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A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's been a while. Things got a little hectic for a while.
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This chapter takes off where last chapter ended, but in Hermione's POV. Feel free to read the last chapter just as a recap if you like.
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Hermione's POV
"Why did you do that?!" I hissed, my eyes flashing. I was completely pissed off, almost irrationally angry. How dare Malfoy raise my daughter's hopes like that? Her heart is only going to end up breaking, how dare he hurt her like that?!
"Do what exactly?" He replied, sounding exasperated. How dare he?!
"Tell her I'm just sick? That's giving her hope and she doesn't need that!"
"Then what does she need, Hermione?" I didn't know how to reply to that. Standing up, he sauntered slowly towards me. "Did you listen to that entire conversation? Because Cassie just informed me- in a very childishly subtle way- that she doesn't think you love her. And who can blame her? You remember her Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron and Auntie Ginny- basically every Weasley's aunt and uncle, even her cousin, but you don't remember her. And she's your daughter." I wanted to reply to this accusation, but I couldn't think properly, too confused and angry to do so. "What I am trying to do is give your daughter some hope that someday, you might love her back. Even if it's not true." And with that, he shoved past me into the hallway. Shocked, hurt and angry, I followed him.
"I can't believe you would throw that in my face, you slimy little ferret! Of course I love my daughter!" Spinning on his heel, he faced me again, just opposite the front door.
"Oh really? Because I know that face, Hermione. I know what's going on in that idiotic, know-it-all head of yours and I know you're thinking 'This is not real, this is a dream, this can't be true'. And that is why your daughter feels this way, because you keep fighting it!" I hated how much he knew me, how close to the truth those statements were.
"Well what do you expect?! I wake up one day and realise I've married my enemy! I've had a kid with him! Can you not imagine how that would be unfathomable to me?!" There was a split second of silence before he opened the front door and gestured grandly to it.
"So leave." My mouth dropped open in shock.
"What?" I demanded, totally nonplussed.
"Leave. The thought of having a kid with me, your worst enemy, is clearly disturbing to you. Disgusting to you. Unfathomable to you. So leave." I hated that I felt like crying at the hurt in his voice, hardly covered up by feigned disinterest.
"I- I- I- I-" I stuttered, unsure what to say.
He left the door open for a few more seconds before slamming it closed and walking towards me, looking into my eyes. And my body started betraying me again. My breathing picked up pace, as did my heart. My brain was fuzzy still, but not because of anger. Instead, my head started analysing how close he was, how he looked, even how he smelt. And none of it disgusted me. Instead, my body wanted him closer. I watched him closely as he took measured steps towards me until he was so close he could touch me.
"See, you can't." He told me, walking closer still, till I had to tip my head back to look him in the eye. "Because deep down, under all that overanalysing and irritating thinking, you know- you know- you love our daughter- you know you love me." I couldn't understand what he was saying.
"I- I- I-" He crept closer towards me and wrapped an arm around my waist. I should have shaken it off, but I liked it there. It felt natural. Normal. I liked him holding me.
"You know you love me." He told me. I wanted to deny him, but something stopped me.
"I- I-" I kept stuttering as he laid his other hand tenderly over my cheek. It felt warm and comfortable.
"You know you love me." He whispered again, leaning towards me.
"I-"
"You know you love me." Draco breathed one more time before his lips found mine.
It should have been terrifying. It should have been disgusting. I should have pushed him away and screamed the whole house down.
But instead, my whole body relaxed, all the tension leaving me until I was blissfully calm. My eyes shut of their own accord, my mouth letting out a soft sigh. And then, I was kissing him back, moving my lips with his like I knew what I was doing, despite the fact that this was the first kiss that I remembered.
My head should have been chaotic, but it was calm. My body should have been shivering in disgust, but it was steady. My lips should have been as solid and unrelenting as marble, but they moved with his with easy grace.
I had read stories about kissing people, about how their bodies ignited in fire. But this wasn't like that. It was like coming home, sitting in front of a heater, wrapping up in a blanket with a warm cup of tea. It was warm, yes, but it was also comfortable, familiar, almost cosy.
And for some inexplicable reason, I wanted more. I liked what was happening to me, how Draco was holding me, how his hands felt in my hair and on the small of my back. I liked how my lips were tingling and how my breaths were quickening and my heart was beating stronger than before.
I liked how alive this made me feel.
The kiss lasted for I don't know how long before slowly- oh so slowly- Draco pulled away, planting a delicate, tender kiss on my forehead as he straightened up. And then we were silent, and his hand in my hair pressed my forehead against his chest, my ear against his heart which was beating steady and strong. He ran his other hand along my back, smoothing my hair. And it was comforting. It was nice. It lifted a weight off my shoulders, one I didn't know I was holding there.
"I'm still mad at you." I finally said, unable to stop the grin as it formed on my face.
"And I'm still mad at you." Draco replied, and I could hear his answering grin in his voice.
"What did I do?" I demanded indignantly.
"You called me a slimy ferret. I believe that is called 'bullying'." I scowled into his chest and then surprised myself by squeezing my arms around his waist. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Mrs Malfoy."
I didn't tense at the name- but realising that I didn't tense made me freeze and instantly, Draco loosened his hold on me, pulling me away and holding my face in his hands. His face was creased in concern, his eyes looked wary.
"You okay, 'Mione?" I frowned and thought about my answer before I replied.
"Yeah," I said, chuckling. "Surprisingly enough, I'm actually okay. This is weird."
"You're telling me, love." Draco agreed.
I chuckled again and pulled away, smiling as I walked back to our room, planning what to write in my diary. As I exited the hallway, I looked back over my shoulder to see Draco smirking triumphantly after me. I rolled my eyes at him.
I sat on my bed hours later looking through one of the books I found in the Malfoy library- yeah; I had my own library- smothered in blankets and surrounded by pillows. Next to me, Draco was hunched over an anthology of papers, muttering to himself about whatever it was he was reading. Every so often, I stole glances at him, my frown creasing deeper every time I did so.
The kiss we shared that day was still fresh in my mind, replaying over and over like a broken record. Every time I tried to figure it out, work out what on earth had been going on in my head, my brain sort of shut down like it was telling me to just go with it. But the truth was, I didn't want to go with it- I wanted to make sense of it.
Yes, Draco Malfoy was my husband- I had accepted that- but why was he my husband? Why had I married him? It didn't seem like something I would do- something so illogical and stupid, so headstrong and totally not like me. It couldn't have been something I would do without a second's thought. I would have thought about it, long and hard, so why was it so difficult for me to understand why now? I wished there was something more than my diary and the photos, something I could grab onto that made a little more sense of my world.
"You're distracting me, Hermione." Draco informed me, starting to grin as he looked down at his papers. "I know I'm extraordinary to look at but stop ogling me." I sputtered in indignation and looked back to my book, taking a sip of my hot chocolate which had been sitting on the bedside table.
"You have an extreme ego problem."
"So you keep telling me." He replied, sounding entirely amused. "I don't listen of course."
"Of course you don't. You wouldn't be Draco Malfoy if you did."
"Oh, you know me so well Hermione."
"Do I?" I asked, my voice almost silent, but he heard it.
"You do." He took my book from my hands and placed it on the nightstand, along with the papers he was reading. "I know that it can be confusing, but if you look hard enough, you know that you know me."
"But I don't!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "All I can remember is how you were at school."
"How do I like my tea?" He asked quietly, gazing at me intensely with those extraordinary flint eyes.
"What?"
"How do I like my tea?"
"But what does that have to-"
"Just trust me. How do I like my tea?"
I don't understand what he means, but even without thinking, I answer. "You don't." I frowned at myself, and then looked up at him. He smiled at me encouragingly and took my hand. "You like hot chocolate- with three sugars and… two marshmallows. And you like hot apple cider during Christmas time."
I didn't know where any of this information is coming from. I looked to him for approval, and his eyes shone with something like pride. I kept going.
"When you were a boy, you always thought it was your mum that made the hot chocolate. She'd bring it up to your bedroom in the morning, on a silver tray with toast and butter and… marmalade?"
"Apricot jam." He corrected with a grin.
"That's right. And then when you were… eight years old, you found out that it was the house-elves that made it, and you threw a tantrum and wouldn't eat breakfast until you left for Hogwarts. That was when you started having coffee in the mornings and hot chocolate in the afternoon."
"Exactly."
"How did I do that?" I demanded, throwing my head into my hands.
"You lost your short-term memory, Hermione, not your long term." He explained, placing a hand gently on the top of my head and stroking my hair. "All of that stuff, everything we've done together- all the fights, all the make-ups, every moment with Cassie- that's all still in there. If you stay for a little while, it starts coming back." I looked up at him, feeling suspiciously like I might cry.
Damn pregnancy hormones.
"I know this sucks- believe me, I am well aware of how sucky it is." He continued. "But you'll get there, Hermione, I know you will. You'll remember everything we've done, just like I do."
"This is so unfair." I moaned pitifully.
"On who?"
"On you and on… I'm ruining Cassie's life!" Draco rolled his eyes at me. "Well I am!"
"You think very highly of yourself, don't you? Cassie loves you. More than anything. More than… well, me, which is a little insulting, but moving on- you are not ruining her life. You're doing the best you can. She knows that."
"But I-"
"Shush." He placed a finger over my lips, silencing me. "How about we go to sleep? You'll feel better in the morning."
"But what if I…?" I trailed off, too ashamed to say the words.
"If that happens, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere, and we can just start again tomorrow." Carefully, he placed a hand on my cheek, smoothing his thumb along my cheekbone. "Do you want me to go sleep somewhere else tonight?"
I didn't answer, confused and overwhelmed. I looked down at my bedsheets, fiddling with the hem of the soft doona covering us. I didn't know what to say now, and as I reached further into my mind, I started coming up with all these facts about my husband.
How he preferred cold showers in the morning and hot showers at night. How he was terrified of hamsters and spider webs- not spiders, just their webs. How he read to Cassie every night- not because she asked but because he loved to read out loud. How he secretly loved sewing and would purposefully buy clothes that didn't quite fit so he could alter them himself.
Finally, I heard Draco sigh and he moved to kiss my forehead. He stood up and started heading towards the door.
"Draco, wait." I requested, my voice only just loud enough for him to hear. He stopped at the threshold to the door, but didn't turn around. "Can you- I mean-"
At my stuttering, Draco turned around, crossing his arms across his chest, but a faint smirk graced his lips and it gave me the courage to finish my sentence.
"Stay with me?"
Draco beamed, his whole face lighting up like Christmas morning. He strode across the room and hopped back into bed, wrapping his arms carefully around me and pulling me close. And once again, I felt that thing- that sense of utter completeness of being in his arms, safe and warm and comforted and cosy.
"Always, Hermione." He whispered in my ear, his warmth and closeness making me smile. "I'll always stay with you."
A/N: So thoughts? It's not great, I know, but was it at least tolerable?
Thanks for sticking with me, and for reading.
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Love Stormy. xoxox