Chapter Nine
Draco had slipped up. Telling her that he loved her was a huge mistake but it wasn't as if he could just leave her hanging. He was pacing the floor in his hotel room and scolding himself for what he'd done. His timing was awful. He knew he should have waited before giving her that necklace. Had he known that it would have prompted her to spill out the "L" word then he would have saved it for another day. He was in too deep now and his only choice was to administer the Amortentia as soon as it was finished. He had three or four days and then his business in Paris would be conplete.
When she'd said it to him his first instinct was to say it back. But that didn't mean anything, did it? It was probably just the fact that he had been in character with her for so long and he was getting too used to it. There was no way on earth that he was in love with her, he simply couldn't be. What was to love about her, really? He didn't love her smile, or the glimmer in her eyes when she looked at him, or the sweet sound of her voice when she spoke while they were alone. He didn't love any of that. It was just a very strong admiration. Her beauty was so offsetting that it caused him to do something that he ordinarily wouldn't have.
Her gift to him was propped up in the corner of his room and he would look at it every couple of minutes not knowing how to feel. He had taken it with him when he'd left her office but now he wished he'd left it somewhere where it wouldn't make him feel like an arse. She had taken her time to create something that wonderful for him and he was trampling all over her in return. They had only known each other for a little over a month so how could she love him? And how could he love her back?
Draco forced himself to believe that he'd said it so as to not ruin the mission. If he didn't say it back then there was no way she'd let him have Stream, let alone get in bed with him. Yes, that was it. He'd done it to get the painting and that was it. Despite the strange tingle left on his lips after he'd said it, he knew with every fiber in his being that that was the sole reason. Well, he tried to know that that was the only reason but he was having a very hard time. The only people he had said those words to were his mother and Astoria while they were still at Hogwarts so that she would get together with him. He hadn't ever said it to her again though. He supposed that when the time came he would have to wipe a few traces of her memory so that she wouldn't come chasing after him after he returned to England. The whole thing was a bit of a mess and there was little he could do to fix it.
Of course there was a good side. Since she already loved him there was little need to use the brewing Amortentia. He would still use a little for good measure and the liquid luck as well, but he was happy knowing that his odds of success had now doubled.
His plan was to invite her over to his room at the hotel and slip a little of the love potion in her red wine before asking her for the painting. It would be quick and much easier to do it in a setting that he could control. If they went out then there were too many variables and he wanted more than anything to get it done before he did something else to fuck it all up.
"Have you heard nothing that I have said to you?" Stefan scolded. He was sick of having to explain this to her. She was being reckless, hanging out with the foreigner and telling him that she loved him. It was all complete madness and he would not stand for it any longer. "You do realize what it is you have done, n'est-ce pas? He will use your affections for him against you and you will end up alone after he takes your innocence and abandons you. He is not going to stick around to see the damage that he will inevitably cause!"
He had been shouting at her bilingually for the past hour, trying once again to convince her that she was blind as to what kind of man her Draco really was. Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table still loving the vibrant blue rose that he'd sent her. His romantic gestures alone were enough to sweep her off of her feet, forget about how charming he was or how much of a gentleman he was. "None of that matters, Stefan. Even if Draco leaves tomorrow without a word I know it's because he loves me too much to say goodbye. You're wrong about him in every way possible. He hasn't tried to bed me once, even when I was coming on to him. I mean something special to him, I just know it." She took a nice long whiff of the rose and exhaled slowly. The magic was keeping it alive and their love for each other was what made it so beautiful. Everyday the blossom grew and more buds grew while she slept. Eventually she would have to put it in the ground but for now it would stay on the table where she could enjoy its strange powers of allure while she ate. "I don't understand why you are so worried. So what if I get heartbroken because I'll never see him again? That's fine; it was a lovely summer romance, and honestly he's not that far away. I could take a portkey or even apparate to London."
"Tu n'es comprends pas! It is not the fact that you will never see him again, but it is the fact that he intends to hurt you. I believe that he is after you for something. His eyes, they are very shady."
"You think he's using me?" she snorted. "What does he want that I have? Draco has more money than I do and probably more than half of France. I have nothing to offer him but my heart and he's already taken that."
"It is irresponsible, the way you are acting. I thought you weren't interested in rich men because of how greedy and boastful they are." The woman before him was not his sister. He felt as though he didn't even know her anymore. The old Hermione was cautious and wary and she wouldn't let the devil ever tempt her. "I feel as though you are letting your guards down too soon. What do you really know about him anyway?"
"Oh la vache! Not this again, please. Stefan, I am a grown woman perfectly capable of choosing a suitor. You cannot prove that he is not trustworthy and I know a lot about him. I know I haven't known him long but that doesn't mean I don't know him well." She pulled the emerald pendant out of her shirt and showed it to him. "He bought this for me. Yes, he's rich but he does not boast about his riches and Draco is the furthest thing from greedy, I'll have you know. Maybe I am letting my guards down but isn't that what love is all about? Have you never been in love, Stefan?"
Stefan sighed and relaxed his shoulders. "I get a bad vibe from him. I cannot explain it and all I know is that I wish for you not to get hurt. There are safer guys right here is Paris that would love to have your hand. Why not give one of them a chance?"
"Because you've scared them all away, Stefan! No one here will have me because they think I'm the freak whose older brother will hex them to pieces if they try to talk to me! Even the muggles know not to bother with me!"
Their argument was interrupted by three loud knocks on their front door. It was just as well, Hermione was tired of having the conversation. Stefan's obvious jealousy of her happiness was putting her down but not enough to make her give up what she had with Draco.
She got out of her chair and pulled the door open swiftly. The French Minister for Magic was on the other side of the arch and he was adjusting his hat with worry.
His robes were their usual dark grey with a black stripe of fabric hanging over his shoulders. The Minister's somber tone spilled out as he lifted his hat and put it in his hands. "Hermione, Stefan... I believe that we now know the cause," he said sadly. "May I enter your home unannounced once more?"
