History lesson
I briefly mentioned timekeeping in the Roman era before, but I'll go over it again. Basically daylight time was divided in twelve equal parts (horae or hours), with the first hour of the day starting at sunrise and the twelfth hour of the day ending at sunset. This meant that summer hours lasted for longer and the day started earlier compared to winter. Night was divided into four 'watches' or vigiliae, each consisting of three horae. So again, in summer these nighttime hours would be shorter than the daytime hours.
Vocab recap
Lecticula = sedan chair
Atrium = central area of the house
Cubiculum = bedroom
Tablinium = office
Tunica = a sort of shift dress. Women's would be ankel length, men's about knee length
Stola = usually colourful dress women wore over the tunica
Asinus = donkey (used as insult)
Deodamnatus = God be damned (Latin curse words, be honest, you know you wanted to learn this)
Decurio = military rank, leader of a turma or cavalry unit
Centurio = leader of a military unit, also in navy: leader of the naval unit/Captain (of sorts)
Optio = military rank, just under Centurio
This chapter is dedicated to DelicateScholar for her never-ending support and JEPierre for putting up with my moods. I know I've been a pain, I'm sorry.
Draco remained in the lecticula long after his slaves had deposited it at the entrance of his home. He'd sent them away, wanting to be alone. In the growing darkness of the night, he wondered why he couldn't move. The faint scent of lavender, of her, still hung about the pillows and curtains. He couldn't forget that last desperate cry. She'd never used his name before. If refusing her advances had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, leaving her at Theodosius' house was the most painful. He almost - almost - regretted not giving in, now. Now that he knew how soft her lips were against his, now that he knew the curves of her body, now he almost regretted hanging on to his own principles. His hands fisted the soft fabric of the cushion she'd sat on and he let his breath escape in a harsh sigh. He'd made his decision. It was the right decision. He knew it was the only decision. He couldn't keep her. But he wanted to keep her safe. Theodosius' household was safe for her. So why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he go to bed, sleep, prepare for the long journey to Roma tomorrow?
A slight cough caught his attention and he looked up to find Tertius holding open one of the side curtains. He looked apologetic and uncomfortable.
"I don't want to interrupt, Master," he began, his eyes downcast.
Draco made an impatient gesture with his hand. "What is it, Tertius?"
The scribe shifted from one foot to the other, looked over his shoulder and then back at Draco. "I'm afraid the young master woke up while you were gone. We couldn't find Hermione…"
The name, so casually mentioned, made shivers run down Draco's back, but he tried to suppress them. "She's gone," he said, his voice harsh and cold. "I sold her."
Tertius looked surprised, then regained his composure. "The young master is very upset, Master. He's been crying and calling for her."
Draco closed his eyes for just a moment. Of course this had to be the night that Scorpius woke up. Of course he'd have to deal with this now, not tomorrow morning. It seemed the Gods were punishing him for his sacrifice and he very nearly cursed them for it. "I'll talk to him," Draco said, with a resigned sigh.
The house was in turmoil. Slaves ran to and fro, packing up the last of the furniture, clothes and other personal belongings Draco had brought to Narbo. Soldiers made a show of standing guard over the Proconsul's luggage, marching across the yard and yelling orders. But even over all that noise, Draco could hear the wails echoing from his son's cubiculum. Several slaves winced at a particularly loud shriek, but the sight of their master stopped them from reacting any further. Draco decided enough was enough.
He marched through the atrium, ignoring the glances his slaves exchanged as they scurried out of his way. He entered his son's room and motioned for the harassed slave inside to leave. A torch lit up the room, which was in shambles. Scorpius had broken half his toys and ripped his clothes; splinters and shards littered the floor and the decorations on the wall were damaged from the impact of the toys that had been thrown against them. Draco folded his arms and glared at his son in stony silence.
Scorpius, unimpressed, threw himself into his tantrum with even more energy. His face had turned dark red, both from the effort of screeching garbled words at the top of his lungs and the tears that stained his face and clothes.
Draco waited, still silent. He knew this tactic of his son's, having used it plenty of times himself as a child. He'd always managed to get away with it, but he wasn't going to let his son do the same. It occurred to Draco, quite suddenly, that Scorpius hadn't really been this upset since Hermione had started taking care of him. Even while she was imprisoned and Scorpius had cried for her every day, his tantrums hadn't been this dramatic. Draco had to shake himself to push the thought away, and when he noticed his son glancing up at him with the calculating eyes of one checking if his antics were achieving his goal, he merely raised his eyebrows and returned the glance.
Scorpius sniffled loudly, wiped his nose on his tunica and started kicking his legs out over the edge of his bed. His whole body was shaking from the effort to suppress his sobs, and his breath came in shallow pants.
Draco waited.
"Where's Hermione?" Scorpius' quivering voice broke the strained atmosphere in the room.
Draco's shoulders tensed in anticipation of his son's reaction as he carefully uttered the words he'd not wanted to say until they were far off the coast. "She's no longer with our household." His voice was clipped, his words precise, and Scorpius, though he opened his mouth to take a deep breath in preparation for another wail, seemed to know there was something more to be said still. He closed his mouth with a sharp snap of his teeth and looked up at his father, anger and confusion in his eyes. "Why?"
Draco unfolded his arms and took a few steps closer to his son's bed. He kneeled in front of Scorpius, so their eyes were at the same level. "Do you remember, Scorpius, that we talked about how we, as a family of Roman citizens, have a duty to take care of our slaves and must make sure they do not get hurt?"
Scorpius' eyes danced over Draco's face searchingly, and his lips pursed together with the effort of trying to remember. He nodded once, sharply.
"Not everyone who owns slaves believes they should take care of them, Scorpius. Some people think they can hurt their slaves very badly if they wish to do so, and a slave can't tell his master to stop hurting him, because that's the law."
"But that's not right!" Scorpius exclaimed, one hand furiously wiping at his wet cheeks. "You told me, we have to take good care of our slaves. We have to! The Gods tell us so!"
"But some people don't believe that. And in Roma, I can't tell other people how they should treat their slaves." He'd decided not to name his father as his main cause for concern, not to a four-year-old who could not be depended on to keep it to himself. "So to keep Hermione safe, she's staying here, in Narbo. You wouldn't want Hermione to get hurt, would you?"
Scorpius shook his head with all the determination a four-year-old could muster. "She was hurt before. I don't want her to be hurt ever again, father."
Draco's eyes clouded over with anger at the reminder of his failure to protect her. "That's why she's staying here while we go back to Roma. I'll find you a tutor there, someone to teach you more writing and numbers, and the laws of the City and everything else you need to know. And Hermione will be here, safe, away from those who might hurt her."
Scorpius reached out for his father, a sorrowful frown on his face. "I wish she could come with us," he whispered, a sob escaping unbidden. "I will miss her, father."
Draco wrapped Scorpius in his arms and pulled him in a tight hug. "Me, too, Scorpius. Me, too."
Theodosius looked at the woman at his feet in growing discomfort. Her cries had attracted the curiosity of his other slaves, but he'd waved them away impatiently. He couldn't have refused Draco when he came up with this idea, not really. Adria had been the reason he'd become a medicus, and Draco was, and always would be, his best friend. But as he listened to Hermione's heart-wrenching sobs, he suddenly wondered if this solution would make anyone happy. He didn't want the woman in his household. He had Kleon, his personal slave, and a cook to see to his needs. Scorpius would miss her. Draco would miss her. And it seemed even Hermione herself was utterly heartbroken over the sudden separation.
He uttered an annoyed sigh and bent down to help Hermione to her feet. "Come, Hermione, let me get you out of the atrium. There's no point in staying here." She clung to him desperately, as if begging for support, her sobs and laboured breaths rendering her incapable of any intelligible speech. "Calm down, girl," Theodosius aid, with a little more authority, as he led her into an empty cubiculum. He made her sit on the bed and tried to get her to take deep breaths, had some wine brought over for her to drink, then some bread from the kitchen. Eating and drinking forced her to regain control of her breathing, but her eyes still shone with tears that she seemed incapable of stopping.
When she finally spoke, it almost came as a surprise.
"He didn't even let me say goodbye."
The words were mumbled but Theodosius could not mistake their meaning. It cut straight through his heart. She looked up at him, a curiously blank expression on her face. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe I was wrong the whole time." Something in her eyes seemed to flicker and die. She curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and hiding her face in her tunica.
"He's trying to protect you," Theodosius said, but she no longer reacted, not to his words, not when he reached out to touch her shoulder. He sighed and left the room. The wine had been laced with valerian, and he suspected she'd fall asleep soon. He'd leave her here for the night.
The morning didn't look any better. Theodosius found Hermione awake and lying in her bed, but she was still unresponsive. He knew it wasn't the valerian, that had been only a small dose, to help her fall asleep, in the hopes that she would not feel so bad the next morning after a good night's rest. It didn't seem to have worked, though. He shook his head, ordered his slaves to bring some food and drink in her room and left her alone.
He was more convinced than ever that something needed to be done.
A few hours later, one of his slaves returned from an errand and sought his attention.
"What is it, Kleon?"
Kleon bowed respectfully and took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I met Tertius on the way back, Master. I thought you might like to know how your friends are faring." Kleon's eyes darted towards the cubiculum where Hermione was still lying on the bed. Theodosius nodded at Kleon to continue. "It seems his young Master was very upset when he woke up and his ancilla was no longer there. Master Malfidus has been in a bad temper all day and the boy won't stop crying. Tertius mentioned they might put off their departure until late this evening, when the young Master will be asleep, just to avoid more arguments. If you should like to see them before they go, they will leave the Palace before the start of the twelfth hour."
Theodosius mulled over that information in silence. Again the thought came to him that this solution, though keeping Hermione safe, was, in fact, not making anyone happy. "Did you find the blacksmith?"
Kleon nodded. "He will pass by before the eighth hour, Master."
"And the other things I asked you to look for?"
"They will be delivered shortly, Master." Kleon's eyes darted to Hermione's cubiculum again. "But the girl…"
Theodosius interrupted him sharply. "I will take care her."
Kleon bowed, accepting the reprimand with unwilling submission. "Of course, Master."
Theodosius reached out a hand and cupped Kleon's cheek. "You have nothing to worry about, Kleon," he murmured, just loud enough for the slave to hear. "Now see if you are needed in the kitchen. I have work to do."
Hermione heard the activities of the household and city around her. The footsteps of slaves crossing the atrium, the shouts of merchants out on the streets, she heard it all but it didn't seem to make any impression. It was as if the sounds escaped before she quite understood what they were. She'd woken up while it was still dark, and had slowly seen the light turn from deep black to soft grey. The room had no window and a curtain kept the light from the atrium out. She'd noticed Theodosius come into the room and try to talk to her, but she couldn't bring herself to respond. She couldn't bring herself to move. He was her new master and the thought left her breathless with nausea.
Again and again she saw Draco freeze in the doorway, then leave without once looking back. Again and again she imagined Scorpius waking up without her and crying out her name. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She was vaguely aware of thirst and hunger, but it seemed like her body was no longer connected to her mind, as if it was someone else's stomach clamouring for food and drink.
She hadn't even noticed that Theodosius had returned to the room until she became aware he was shaking her shoulder and holding a bowl of something to her lips. She opened her mouth obediently and swallowed the warm broth. Slowly her ears registered that he was speaking, though it didn't seem aimed at her.
"Asinus. Deodamnatus, how stubborn he is. And l will just pick up the pieces, shall I?"
Hermione pushed the bowl away. She wanted to turn away from Theodosius, but he held her in place, tilting her chin up to force her to look at him.
"I've been patient with you, but this is it. Time to get up, Hermione. Your new life begins today."
A cry of pure agony escaped her lips, but at her new master's stern face she pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle the sound and got up on shaky legs. A moment later a man entered the room, accompanied by a slave she vaguely recognised as Theodosius' assistant, who was carrying a torch. The sudden bright light in the room hurt her eyes but she refused to shut them.
The strange man began to take out tools she didn't recognise, but she couldn't mistake the slave tag, new, gleaming in the torch light, that was laid out on the bed. She pressed her hands to her mouth even harder to stop herself from screaming. She didn't want to lose the collar Malfidus had put around her neck. It was the last thing that bound her to him, to Scorpius, and she didn't know how she could live without it.
Theodosius was the one who forced her hands down to her sides and carefully lifted her hair out of the way. She wondered if he did that with all his slaves, but then realised that she'd only ever seen him with male slaves and they didn't usually have long hair. The snap that broke the collar echoed in the room and a moment later, the weight was lifted from her collarbone. It felt as if a part of her soul was torn away from her, the pain piercing her body with unexpected ferocity. She couldn't help a sob escaping from her mouth. She caught Theodosius' eye and looked away. It seemed indecent to let him see the pain in her eyes. It was humiliating to think she was so desperate to hold on to the symbol of her servitude.
"Minerva Sapiens, give me the strength," she heard her new master mutter. She couldn't help retching at the thought. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the touch of cold metal, of the new collar being placed around her neck. But to her surprise, it didn't come.
"You may go now," Theodosius said.
Hermione's eyes flew open. The blacksmith looked a little surprised, but didn't question the order. He packed up his belongings and left, the slave carrying the torch following him closely. She searched Theodosius' face but the man was watching the others leave with such deliberation she could feel he didn't want to hear whatever question she had to ask. When their footsteps had faded away, he turned towards her and sighed.
"You had better not make me regret this, Hermione of the Eburones." And with that cryptic message, he tossed her a parcel wrapped in oiled cloth. Hermione opened it curiously and found a beautifully embroidered stola in the colour of the sea, and a white cotton tunica.
"What… what is this?" Her voice croaked and she coughed, embarrassed.
Theodosius sat down on the bed, his head bowed and his hands clasped together. He didn't answer right away and Hermione wasn't sure if he even was going to answer, but eventually he looked up and said, in a clear voice, "Liberata, liberata, liberata es. You're free, Hermione. I'm not keeping you and I'm not selling you on. I'm giving you new clothes so you can walk the streets of this city without fear. My neighbour will send in her ancilla to help you get dressed."
Hermione clasped the parcel to her chest, her breath catching in her throat, her mouth going dry as sand. Her hand went to her collarbone, where the indents of the slave collar she'd worn for almost a year were still visible. A collar she would, apparently, not wear again. "Why?"
Theodosius let out a scathing laugh. "I don't know, Hermione. Maybe I just don't want to be party to this strange scheme of Draco's. Maybe I'm just mad. Maybe you should just take what you are offered and run with it." He rose and walked towards the doorway. He paused before leaving the room and said over his shoulder, "You are free to stay here as my guest for as long as you want. You are free to leave, to travel elsewhere. If you need an escort to take you anywhere, I will provide you with one. You don't have to leave, but you don't have to stay either. You're free. Free to go to him, or not. It's your decision, Hermione. It's your life." And with that, he was gone.
A young girl came into the room and hastily began to undress and redress Hermione in the soft cotton and light woolen clothes Theodosius had provided her with, dressing her hair in an elaborate updo that felt wholly foreign but strangely comfortable. When she was finished, the girl bowed and left, and it was only then that Hermione realised she didn't even know the slave's name and couldn't thank her.
She walked out into the atrium. Theodosius was in the tablinum, his head bent over a scroll of papyrus. He looked up when she approached him, stared for a moment, then blinked, at her as if he didn't quite recognise her. Then he stood up and smiled.
"You look quite the lady, Hermione."
Hermione smiled back at him, still not quite comfortable in her new clothes, without the weight of a collar around her neck. Her hand touched the dip in her collarbone and she blushed when she noticed he had seen the gesture.
"You said I was free to stay or go," Hermione said, hesitatingly. Theodosius nodded at her. "But where can I go? I have no money, no friends. I'm not really free, am I? I have to stay here, with you, if I want to eat, if I want to have a roof over my head, if -"
Theodosius reached behind his desk, then tossed a small pouch her way. "I'm not keeping you here if you don't want to stay, Hermione. That's yours to do with as you please. You are free. The choice is yours."
Hermione caught the pouch and almost dropped it, surprised at how heavy it was. She swallowed with difficulty. She really was free. Free to go. Free to return home, free to travel to another city and start a new life. Free to… The image of Draco and Scorpius rose in her mind, unbidden. She sucked in a breath sharply as the full implication of Theodosius' words became clear. She could go to the harbour, board the same ship as Draco and Scorpius and travel with them, not as a slave, but as a free woman. She swayed back on her heels, her mouth opening and closing with words she couldn't find.
"I…" She felt lost, caught in a storm of thoughts that threatened to drown her, and suddenly she knew exactly where she wanted to go. "Will you tell me how I can get to the Temple of Minerva from here?"
It was as if Luna knew Hermione would be there, because yet again did the young acolita welcome her as soon as she crossed the threshold into the temple courtyard.
"I had a feeling I might see you today, Hermione," Luna said. She seemed unfazed by Hermione's altered appearance. "Will you join me in the camera sacra?"
Hermione had only been in that room twice before, but it was the one place she felt she might find peace when her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. She let Luna guide her there, entering the cave with the strange bluish light with a sigh of relief. The sound of running water, the soothing colours reflected in the pool and the effigy of Minerva gave her an instant sense of homecoming.
Luna kneeled by the side of the pool and Hermione followed her example. She let her fingers skim the surface of the water while Luna sat back on her heels and waited for Hermione to speak.
"When I was here last, I told you I didn't know which would be worse, to be a Malfidus slave and have to serve his father, the man who had ordered the death of my entire family, or to be separated from Draco and Scorpius."
Luna smiled serenely. "But now you know." It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a statement. It was as if Luna simply spoke the words that Hermione had wanted to say.
"The choice was taken from me," she said quietly, the pain of seeing Draco walk out of Theodosius' domus, out of her life, still too raw to linger on it. "Then I knew."
"Then why are you here, Hermione?" Luna's voice had taken on that slightly metallic quality again, echoing off the walls of the chamber. Her eyes gleamed silver in the sparse torchlight.
Hermione cupped some water into her hands and watched it trickle between her fingers. She repeated the motion a few times, trying to get her thoughts in order. Why was she here? Her heart had cried out for this place when she became overwhelmed by her own thoughts, so there must be a reason. "I'm a free woman now. I could go to him, not as a slave but as a woman, as his equal. I have a choice now. Everything is just… different."
Yes, it was different now. Before the choice was between holding on to revenge or letting go in favour of love, but her position in the household, her position as Draco's slave and Scorpius' caretaker had not been in question. Now she was free, and even going to Draco was a choice, her choice. Her responsibility. And the weight of that responsibility lay heavily on her heart. Could she really make that choice now?
"Is it?"
Luna's voice made Hermione look up from the pool of swirling water, but Luna wasn't looking at her. She had turned towards Minerva and held out her hands in supplication. Her focus seemed to be entirely on the statue on the other side of the water.
"Have your feelings for him changed?"
Hermione remembered the desperate kiss in the lecticula, remembered his hands roaming over her body and her heart screaming for more. She shivered.
"Have your feelings for his son changed?"
Her heart clenched painfully at the reminder of Scorpius, Scorpius whom she loved as a son, whom she hadn't been able to say goodbye to. Scorpius, who offered her grapes as an apology, who hugged her tight when he had a bad dream, who laughed so happily when they played together.
"Have your feelings for his father changed?"
Nausea replaced the ache in her chest. She hated that man, even though she'd never met him. But she'd been prepared to leave that hate behind for Draco and Scorpius. Was she still prepared to do that?
"Is it really different now?"
Luna's voice was soft now, almost a whisper, but she might as well have shouted that last question. Hermione held her breath until her lungs burned with need for oxygen.
Theodosius of Nottos paced back and forth on the quay. He'd decided to go to the harbour to see his friend and godson off, since he had no plans to leave Narbo until the next Spring. And of course he wanted to know what Hermione would do. He hadn't seen her since she'd left for Minerva's Temple. It was nearing the twelfth hour. It would be dark soon, but the place was still teeming with activity, traders and slaves yelling across one another, tossing merchandise from ship to shore and back. The trireme Concordia, the military ship that would take Draco and Scorpius back to Roma, was in the final stages of preparations, the sails checked and ready, the remiges taking their places and the ship's centurio and optio awaiting the arrival of the Proconsul in full regalia. But none of this activity could distract Theodosius from his own thoughts.
He was torn. Had he made the right decision? It had felt like the right thing to do. What was he to do with yet another slave? And why would he keep her when the woman could make his friend and godson happy? But would she? Had it been a mistake to give her money and tell her she was free to stay or go as she pleased? His stomach clenched and he took a deep, bracing breath. The salty air was soothing and the sound of the water lapping at the shore grounded him, but the nagging insecurity inside did not abate. What if he had made a wrong judgement? What if she didn't show up in time? What if she didn't show up at all?
He was roused from his thoughts by the arrival of the proconsular escort. He recognised Figulus, the decurio who was responsible for Draco's safety in the Provincia. A moment later, Draco appeared, comfortably seated on a horse, Scorpius in front of him. The boy was looking around, but there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his behaviour. When his eyes fell on Theodosius, he perked up and stretched out his arms.
"Patrinus! You came!"
Theodosius stepped up to Draco's horse and lifted Scorpius into his arms. "I couldn't let you leave without saying a proper goodbye," he said, tossing Scorpius in the air. The boy giggled and demanded more, higher. Theodosius obliged, not once but twice, giving Draco the time to dismount and talk to his troops before addressing his friend. There was a dark anger in his eyes when they finally fixed on Theodosius.
"I hope you didn't bring…"
But Theodosius cut his friend off before he could finish that sentence. "Of course I didn't." It wasn't a lie, exactly. He expected her to show up, in fact, he genuinely hoped she would, but he hadn't brought her with him.
"We want to leave before the Vigilia Prima," Draco said. "So don't keep Scorpius with you for too long. But you can have some time with him while I go and talk to the centurio."
Theodosius nodded and focused his attention on his godson again. Scorpius was talking excitedly, pointing at the various scenes he thought interesting, patting the horse that had carried him on the nose and giggling like mad at something Figulus whispered in his ear. But there was something off about him. His eyes didn't sparkle like they used to. His shoulders sagged when he thought nobody was looking. And for the first time, Theodosius knew he had made the right decision. He just wasn't sure that she would, too.
Draco Malfidus had been shocked to see Theodosius at the harbour, and for an agonizing moment he'd feared that the man would have brought Hermione with him in some strange attempt to reconcile them. But no, he hadn't. And Draco was not disappointed. He wasn't.
He left Scorpius with his friend and found the centurio to discuss the last arrangements for the trip. They talked about the itinerary, the expected weather, the arrangements on board for him and his son. Then one of the officers informed them they were ready to leave. Draco turned around to call Scorpius, and froze.
She stood before him, a vision of turquoise and white, her hair almost, but not quite tamed by silk ribbons that contrasted beautifully with her dark curls.
"Hermione."
Her name fell from his lips before he could stop himself and his hand reached for her, touched her arm as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming. No, she was there, solid, real, smiling a little nervously. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, but they gleamed with an earthly happiness. He drew in a sharp breath and was assaulted by the scent of lavender, of her. He couldn't move his hand away from her arm, almost afraid she would disappear if he let go of her. He'd forgotten all about the people around him, Theodosius and Scorpius, the centurio of the Concordia and his men. There was only her. But she wasn't supposed to be here.
"What are you doing here?" It seemed a silly question, and his tone was harsher than it should have been.
She flinched and took a step back, but then straightened and lifted her chin defiantly. She looked even fiercer, even more herself than he ever remembered her. "I was looking for passage to Roma. I believe this ship is leaving tonight?"
Draco shook his head, disbelievingly. He stepped closer to her and reached out to cup her cheek, still unable to look away from the eyes he never thought he'd see again. "What are you doing, Hermione? Theodosius -"
"Set me free," she interrupted. "Liberata. Hermione Eburoniana once more." She made a comical little courtesy. Then her face grew serious. "I don't want you to leave me behind. I understand I can't come with you as your slave, but I am no longer a slave. I want... You. I want you in my life, and Scorpius too. Don't send me away again, Draco. Take me with you."
It was only then that Draco noticed Scorpius, who had wrapped his arms around Hermione's legs and didn't seem to have any intention of letting go. Theodosius stood a few steps away from them, pretending badly not to listen to their conversation.
"Can she come with us, father, please? Bring her to Roma? Please? I want Hermione to come, too. Father, please?" Scorpius' muffled voice rose from the folds of Hermione's stola.
"I can't… How…" Draco cut himself off. He wanted nothing more than to take Hermione in his arms and never let her go, just like Scorpius. But he couldn't. In Roma, his father would be waiting. He licked his lips, then finally looked away from her face and tried to take Scorpius' hand. "Scorpius, she can't come with us. It's not proper." He ignored the pang in his heart when he saw Hermione's face fall from the corner of his eye. "Come, Scorpius, we must board. Say goodbye now."
But Scorpius tightened his arms around Hermione's legs, almost causing her to stumble and fall, and shook his head vigorously. Hermione had to reach out and clasp his shoulder for support. Her touch set his whole body on fire and he looked up at her, getting caught in her amber gaze again. He remembered the bracelet that he had bought so long ago but never given her. He still had it. Tertius had packed it with his personal belongings. He couldn't look away. The look in her eyes changed from pleading to confident. She opened her mouth to speak, but someone else was quicker.
"Draco Malfidus, you are a fool." Theodosius' voice startled them all. "A stubborn fool. Asinus. Why are you trying to martyr yourself? Just take her as your wife, if she will have you, and be done with it. Scorpius will have the mother he wants, you will have the woman you want, and she will have the family she wants. Why make everyone unhappy? Is it pride? Is it foolishness? What excuse do you have?"
He saw her eyes light up at the idea and knew she wouldn't refuse him if he asked. But…
"I can't take a wife without my father's permission, you know that, Theodosius. And he won't permit me to marry you." He said the last more quietly, just to her, as if they were the only two people in the world.
He expected her to crumble at the statement, to see the light in her eyes flicker and die, but she only seemed to burn brighter in the setting sun. Her lips pursed together and she squeezed his shoulder. "I'm prepared to fight for you, Draco Malfidus."
Theodosius sighed. "You really are an idiot. The Emperor can sanction the match in confarreatio and your father will not defy him. You're on his good side for augmenting the tax income from the Provincia, remember? Go see him straight off the ship and you will be fine." Then he muttered, more to himself than to his friend, "I honestly don't know how you survived in politics for so long. One woman and you lose your knack. You're a sap, Draco."
Draco heard him and shot him an annoyed glance, then looked back at Hermione. He knew this was the precipice. This was the start or the end. This moment in time would decide the course of the rest of his life. He looked at her, taking in every detail, her amber eyes swirling with warmth and sunlight, the light dusting of freckles on her nose, the thin white lines of tiny scars he'd never noticed before, the colour that was slowly rising in her cheeks, her plump, pink lips, the line of her eyebrows and the curls that fell alongside her face.
"I made my choice, Draco," she said softly. "What is yours?"
Draco swallowed. It was madness. It was absolute madness. But how could he resist? Hermione, by his side. Hermione, in his arms. Hermione, laughing and playing with Scorpius. Maybe a child of their own. He took her right hand in his.
"Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius." He said the ceremonial words with some trepidation, but when he saw the smile that lighted up her whole face, he knew it was the right decision.
"Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia," she responded, then kissed him full on the mouth. They didn't notice the cheers that rose up from the onlookers, or the way Theodosius exchanged an exasperated glance with Tertius. Draco did feel Scorpius' arms enclosing his legs and pulling him closer to Hermione. He leaned back and looked at Hermione, his wife, then smiled. "Time to board the ship to our new life, mulier."
"Indeed it is, vir." She made to walk towards the ship, but then stopped and turned back. She stepped up to Theodosius and embraced him. "Thank you," she murmured in his ear.
Draco bent down to pick up his son, then held out an arm for Hermione. They walked on board together, arm in arm, ready to face the world.
Beta love to hobbit penguin. You're a gem. I love you. Any remaining mistakes my own.
This story is now complete.
Yes, this is where it ends. Yes, I'm sure. No, asking for more isn't going to make me write more. IF I write more about what happens to our favourite couple when they arrive in Rome, I promise I'll let you all know.
Thank you to all you lovely readers and reviewers for supporting me and following this story from its first conception through this unexpected journey to a ten-chapter fic.
And now I'm FINALLY off to read Refictionista's Sonus ex Venificia because I've been putting it off for WAAAAAYYYY too long. And if you're not reading that one already and you liked this, you should go find it.