All characters belong to JKR
22, April 1813, (Later, the same day):
"I do not wish to hear any platitudes from you, Lord Malfoy," she said.
His face was dangerously close to hers and he said, "Call me husband."
"Lord Malfoy," she repeated.
His hand grabbed hers, as it rested on the outside of the covers, and he brought it to his lips. Before he placed a kiss there, he said, "Husband." He kissed her fingertips.
"Lord Malfoy," she said again, defiantly.
He smiled, ignored her again, and said, "And I shall intimately call you wife. My wife. You are my wife now, Hermione, and as much as you might wish it to be otherwise, I am your husband. I did not force you to marry me you know, Wife."
She shook her head slightly and said, "Please leave me."
"Hermione, I will tell you what I have wanted to tell you for so long, and then if you still wish for me to leave you alone, I shall." He was weary of fighting her. She kept her face toward the opened window. The sun streaked with shadows across her features. He sat next to her hip, and sheathed her one hand in both of his. "That day, during the war, when I found you in the forest, all alone, I was shocked. You were harmlessly gathering firewood. You were not even aware of the dangers nearby. There was a group of snatchers only a short distance away, and a group of Death Eaters was with them. I was with the latter. I was sent to scan the woods. I could hardly believe I found you so easily. I watched you for close to an hour. When I did not see either Weasley or Potter, I knew you were alone. I could not see your encampment, so I figured it was concealed, but you stayed out in the open. You gathered more wood, and then you went to a small stream for water."
She looked out the opened window and said, "And that was when you revealed yourself to me, and my entire life changed."
Chapter 8: 30, June 1812, Hours After the Gallery Incident, at a Garden Party:
Hermione sat alone on a bench in the middle of a grove of blossoming trees, with a glass plate resting on her knee. She was picking at her food. She heard footsteps behind her and prayed it was not Draco. "Hello, Lass."
She turned her head. It was Oliver Wood. "Mr. Wood?" she greeted.
"Now tell me why the prettiest flower in this whole grand garden is sitting alone, amongst a grove of trees, looking so sad and downtrodden," he expressed with a smile.
"Thank you for the compliment, and to answer your question, I prefer my own company," she said quietly.
"But people do not come to these things to be alone," he remarked. "They come to be seen, and heard. You took great care to pick out a pretty dress, trimmed in ivory ribbons, the same ribbons in your hair, which looks very fetching today, so you must want to be seen. Likewise, you are one of the best conversationalists I have ever had the pleasure to meet, so you must want to be heard," he concluded. "No, you are alone out here for another reason. Shall I try to discover that reason?"
She shook her head slowly, and looked down at her lap.
"Did some rake offend you?" he asked.
Before she could answer, Draco approached and raised his hand and said, "That would be an affirmative. The evil rake was me it shames me to say. I offended the lady."
Oliver laughed and said, "As you frequently do, Malfoy."
Hermione placed her plate on the bench and said, "Excuse me, gentlemen." She started walking toward a path that led to the woods, leaving the two men behind.
Oliver raised his brows and said, "What are you going to do about that, Malfoy?"
Draco raised his own brows, and followed her.
There was something about large and boisterous crowds, which drew Hermione to the opposite direction. The garden party was grand, and everyone who was anyone in both the Muggle world and the Magical World attended, though one side was not aware of the difference of the other. The garden was laden with beautiful flowers of every hue, and it was a magnificent and astounding view, but still, something about the crowded event drew Hermione farther and farther away from the mob. She preferred the natural beauty of the outdoors. She preferred to be alone. She preferred time to think and reflect.
She found what appeared to be an abandoned glade near a small stream, and surrounding this glade was a canopy of tall trees, which helped to fight off the heat of the noonday sun. She sat down in the middle of the grass, and was grateful for the chance to be unsocial. In a bit of daring, she lay back on the ground, and looked up at the leafy canopy, making out small patches of sun, which wove through the limbs and leaves.
She heard another rustling in the woods and she knew in her heart that this time it was he. Why did he have to continue to confuse her? She turned her head, already discovered. He was handsome. He had on an elegant long green coat and ivory pantaloons, and shiny brown boots up to his knees. She recalled that time she saw him in the forest, during the war, under different circumstances, and how afraid she was of him that day. She no longer felt fear.
Seeing Malfoy again made her feel remorse for what might have been, and what would never be again. It made her feel a kindling of something else, something different, something she could not understand or comprehend. Was it love? Could it be? Was she capable of love, and was he capable of returning it? She might never know the answers to any of those questions.
Her bonnet was still in his hand. He said, "No young lady should be out without her hat, and indeed, lying upon the cold ground."
"Please go away," she said. Her hand came over her eyes to block a nasty piece of sun that decided to break free from the shade of the canopy. He dropped down to his knees beside her. He handed her bonnet to her.
She stayed on the ground and said once more, "Please, just go."
He wanted to say so much. He wanted to do so much. He reached over, as she lay on her back, and he stroked the fringe of hair near her forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment. He had so much he needed to tell her, but instead, he stood up and said, "I merely wanted to return your hat." He brushed off his pants. "I apologize for earlier. I honestly do. You may not find it in your heart to forgive me at this moment, but someday you shall. I shall make you forgive me, if it takes a lifetime." In his mind he thought, 'I shall make you love me, if it takes a lifetime.'
She got up on her elbows and said, "Once again, if you are guiltless, there is nothing to forgive."
He meant the deception of being the masked man. He smiled and said, "Of course. Then I too shall recant my apology, until later that is, when you are more receptive." He walked off.
She found this small glade in the forest, by a fallen tree, a comfort and a haven. She got up from the ground and she went over to the fallen tree and sat down. This pretty, little spot truly did reminded her of the area in the woods when she first met Malfoy again, during the hunt for Horcruxes. She wished she had not met him that day. She wished she had not met him again. She bowed her head, in almost a prayer, and in silent contemplation, she closed her eyes.
Two years prior, near the end of the war:
Hermione was alone at the encampment, collecting firewood, when she thought she heard a sound in the forest. She dropped the kindling, raised her wand, and looked through the trees, though she saw nothing. She took a ragged breath and wished that Harry and Ron would soon return. It was not so much that she was afraid for herself, but she worried for them when they were gone. They were searching for clues to find another Horcrux. It was important that they found them all, so they could win the war against the Dark Lord.
Hermione picked up her kindling and started back to their tent, which was cloaked with a concealment charm. She also has numerous wards set up around their encampment, but she knew that she had traveled slightly beyond her wards, and she had to get back quickly.
She heard another noise. She turned around, scanned the woods again, but still she saw nothing. She left the kindling on the ground and went back to sit beside the water. Soon, she was on her back, staring up at the barren trees, empty of leaves in the dead of winter. She closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer, and then she definitely heard another sound. She tried to stand, but faltered. Behind her was a person she had not seen since school. She had not seen him since the death of their Headmaster, almost a year prior. Draco Malfoy.
She drew out her wand, but he was quicker.
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She heard the sound of a broken twig on the path beyond the glade. She turned her head, and felt her stomach drop. She looked at the man who approached fully in the eye. Then she looked all around, to make sure they were alone. It was her highwayman. She remained on the fallen tree, not certain as to what she should do.
Moreover, she had been crying, and was not even aware.
He handed her a handkerchief. She took it and dabbed at her eyes. "You should not be here. There are perhaps one hundred people about the estate just beyond these woods. You will be discovered," she warned.
"And you do not want that to happen?" he asked softly. "I am touched." He walked closer, and reached out a bare hand to her cheek. "Why the tears?"
"It is nothing." She tried to hand him his handkerchief, but he shook his head no. She put it in her reticule. She would keep it as a memento.
"I came to meet you, hoping you would be here, and hoping to find you happy and well, and yet I find you alone, crying, and sad. That will not do, my lady." He pointed toward the small stream. He took her elbow, helped her to stand, and then with his hand still on her arm to guide her way, he steered her to the stream, where they both sat down, next to one another, on the embankment.
"Now, tell me, why are you sad?" he implored.
"Someone whom I once cared about, is working very hard to make sure that I dislike him, I'm afraid," she said. "Furthermore, I am equally fearful that he is succeeding, and I fear that he no longer cares for me, in any case."
"I have a rival for your affections?" he asked lightly, though his heart was breaking. She still cared for him, but he was killing her affection with his anger, and that was never his intent.
She gave him a weak smile and said, "You have no rival, nor are you a contender."
"Oh," he said, clutching his hands to his heart. "Your words wound me." He rubbed his hand over his mask and said, "But is this not all very tedious, all this discussion of broken affections? I am here for secret number three, unless your confession of having a secret love is your confession."
"I have no secret love, so I have no secret confession," she said solemnly. Her real secret was that she hated the way her heartbeat quickened when this man was close to her, especially since she was contemplating her feelings for Lord Malfoy. How could she possibly sit here and entertain thoughts about this highwayman, when only moments before, she was engaging the same thoughts about Malfoy. She was beyond confused. One thing was certain; this man was a tad bit nicer than Malfoy.
She turned her head and sighed. "Have I done something to offend you?" he asked.
She laughed and said, "You stole from me, and burned my brother-in-law's carriage. You stole a very valuable book from my friend," she stood and pointed toward him, "and do not try to pretend that you did not. You stole from Harry Potter, which means that you lied, too."
He stood and said, "Lied?"
"You claimed you were not at Grimmauld Place to steal, yet you did," she concluded.
He smiled and said, "Ah, so your prickly demeanor is hurt pride. I told you I was merely there for your affection, and when it turned out I was there for additional reasons, your pride was hurt. I see how it is. Well, today, we are in the forest, and there are only rocks, leaves and trees to pilfer, so perhaps I am only here for you today."
"There is a vast estate down below, and I am sure you are not above stealing something of value from there," she accused. "I have my wand, and I will send for help if you do not leave now." She pulled her wand from her skirt, although her words lacked conviction.
Draco reached down, took her wrist, and said, "Do not make false claims and do not take out your anger at someone else on me. It is not becoming of a lady."
"What would a rake know about genteel manners and what is becoming of a lady?" she spat. She removed her wrist from his hand, stood up, and started backwards. He advanced toward her and she raised her hand.
"Go on, strike me," he said steadily. "Show me your propriety and manners. Show me how much better you are than I am. Yes, I fear your anger is toward someone else, yet you direct it at me."
She lowered her hand, his words cutting her acutely. She felt that Malfoy's anger was misdirected as well, unjustly so, and now the highwayman was accusing her of the same thing. She said, "Just leave me alone. I wish for everyone to leave me alone."
She leaned against a tree and hung her head. He walked behind her and said, "I would accept your anger, if I earned it. This time, I have not, have I?" He knew that he had, and he felt even guiltier for claiming that he had not. He placed his hand high above hers on the tree. "Another secret and you get closer to having your book returned to you."
She turned around, and his heart broke, because she once again had tears in her eyes, and he knew that it was his fault. She said, "You already guessed my secret this time. I was once in love, I never told him so, and then I accused him of something that he had not done, and now the harm between us is irreparable. That is my secret."
She placed both hands on his chest and said, "Now, you owe me a secret."
The intimacy between them, her hands on his chest, her face close to his, was almost more than he could bear. His only wish in the world was that he could tell her his biggest secret, but he could not. He reached for her hands, and twined her fingers around his. He said, "My secret is that I too have loved and lost, and I intend to do something about that."
He brought one of her hand to his mouth, and kissed it lightly. He said, "You are closer to having your book return, my dear heart." He let go of her hands, but gave them a squeeze first, and then he disapparated away. She sat back down on the fallen tree. She needed more time to think before she returned to the party.
After an hour of deep thought and meditation, Hermione decided to apparate back to the Inn. She would get a message that she left the garden party to her family later. She wanted to wait for her father and stepmother's arrival. She walked up the lane to the Inn, and she saw that Harry's curricle was beside the Weasley family's carriage, outside of the Inn. When had they all left the party?
Hermione walked slowly to the front of the Inn, when she first saw Gabby, standing outside. Hermione called out to the young girl, to ask her if she knew why everyone was suddenly here, when Bill ran outside the Inn, followed by Harry, and then Ron. Bill approached her first, took her hand, and said, "We have received the most dreadful news."
Fleur came to stand behind her, and placed her arm around her shoulders. She looked toward Gabby, and the young girl was crying. Without any words spoken, Hermione already knew what Bill was afraid to tell her. Her father was dead.
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Two weeks later, Hermione was back at Shell cottage. Her stepmother sent both of the young girls back before her, and told them they had to finish up the season, and she even refused to let Hermione bring mourning clothes back to London with her. She told Hermione that it was more important than ever that she continued with her life, and find a husband, so that her future would be secured.
Her father's title, and land, was entailed to Hermione's Muggle second cousin. Though her father provided well for his wife and offspring, the former Madam DeLacour, nay the Widowed Granger, was soon to move to the only home left to her, a townhouse in London, and given the choice to stay there, or at Shell Cottage, Hermione came back to Shell Cottage. Gabby was to stay with her mother.
She walked around the gardens of Shell Cottage on her first day back, and she felt as if she was an empty armor, devoid of emotions and feelings. She was never terribly close to her father, but she loved him, and he her, and he was a good man. She had no one now. No family. She was utterly, complete, dispassionately, alone. To be alone was her fondest wish but two weeks ago, and now she was. The irony stabbed her in the heart, and left its indelible mark.
There was a ball in two nights at the home of one of their former classmates, Susan Bones, and Fleur announced that both of her sisters, as she often called Hermione, were to come. She told Hermione that this time she would come to the mercantile to pick out ribbons for her hair. She would participate in picking out her gown. Before Hermione left the breakfast table, Fleur said, "You cannot stop living, Hermione, because your father is no longer living. He would not want that for you."
"With all due respect, Fleur," Hermione said, "you have no idea what my father wanted for me." She walked to the back garden, and when the carriage was ready to take them into town, for dress shopping, ribbon buying, and the like, Hermione simply refused to go.
So why was she walking around the mercantile with a piece of blue ribbon in her hand?
She came because Harry walked outside and beseeched her to come. He told her that if she did not come, he would grab her hand, and apparate her to Diagon Alley himself. Therefore, she came, but she was not happy.
She rounded the corner of the mercantile, and she bumped her shoulder into a man. She dropped the long piece of blue silk. The man bent down to pick it up, handed it to her, and as if she did not notice who it was, said, "Thank you," and she started to walk away.
"Miss Granger?" he said.
She turned back around. It was Lord Malfoy. She froze on the spot. He said, "Please, accept my humble apologies on the loss of your father, and for so much more. I am so sorry."
She hardly knew what to say, so she said nothing.
How could he make her see? How could he make her forgive him? How could he give her up, once again? Then as if he had an epiphany, he immediately knew what he had to do. He turned to leave the store, but before he left he said, "I promise that I shall see you very soon, Hermione."
She curtsied, nodded her head, and then she turned to leave the store, walking past him through the doorway. He watched her go, and he already mourned the loss of her. He immediately went to the home of her stepmother. He had a proposition for the woman.
