13. Chocolate Cakes and Wedding Bells

Hermione stared at the door, long after the potions master had taken his exit. Millions of thoughts zipped through her mind in agonizing haste. It was impossible for her to form any coherent thought. Her mind kept drifting back to the scene in the astronomy tower, wondering what on earth it was all about. She would have to ask Malfoy, hoping he would answer her. Maybe, if she'd turn on her charm a bit it would help. Draco was stubborn, she knew. Forcing the answer out of him was a thing of impossibility.

With her mind set on her next task, she got up from the chair. Severus' gaunt face and the tear on his cheek had made Hermione realize how much she still didn't know about her old professor. Indeed, the Slytherin lair as a whole was becoming more and more of a mystery to her. A snarky potions professor who showed emotions…if Hermione hadn't seen it, she wouldn't have believed it possible. And why would Draco keep fake thoughts of a non-existent rendezvous in his pensieve? Ginny's words suddenly rang in Hermione's mind. Perhaps the little redhead was right? Maybe, just maybe Ginny was on to something.

Hermione shook her head and walked to the door. She had work to do and had to get to the study room. On her way up the stairs another thought struck her. Zabini! She still had to figure out how to bring this child molester to justice. Her head began to ache as she reached the end of the staircase. She turned right and headed for Marcel's study room.

Hermione's morning went by pretty quickly, and to her good fortune, Marcel's funny antics and his curious mind, kept all of her other worries at bay. He was a highly intelligent child, and it was amazing to watch his progress and quick uptake on everything she taught him.

The only difficulty she faced with Marcel was his stubbornness and his lack of attention to rules. His behavior was completely out of control. He never had a firm hand to teach him right from wrong. But with time Hermione knew she could calm his temper and change his mannerism.

"Ok, Marcel, we are finished studying for the morning. Perhaps you would like me to read a book to you?" She asked, beaming down at the little boy.

A brought grin appeared on his face and he skipped to the bookshelf, pulling out the large volume of Grimm's stories.

Hermione nodded and padded the chair next to her.

He ran back to her, but instead of the chair, he jumped on her lap. Hermione was a little taken aback and almost fell off her own seat from the sudden impact, but quickly righted herself and began reading.

Three stories they finished together, before a hall clock struck twelve, telling her that it was lunch time.

She lifted Marcel off her lap and closed the book.

"Minee?"

"Yes Marcel," Hermione answered looking down at the child.

"Where is my mummy?"

Hermione looked shocked for a moment and swallowed. She didn't know how to respond to this, nor was she prepared for such a question. What should she tell him?

"Your mummy is…. well … you see it's like this …. ." She was at a loss for words. Should she tell him that he didn't have a mother? But it wasn't true. He had to have a mother. Someone had given birth to Marcel, this was clear. But who? Draco had never answered her question as to who it was. Was it Pansy? But then surely he would have told her. After all, they were married for a short period of time, before she ran off with another man.

"Who?" Marcel asked again, this time more persistent.

"I'm not sure Marcel. Perhaps you should ask you Daddy who it is?" she answered truthfully.

"He should ask me … what?"

Hermione spun around and saw Malfoy standing in the door. His trademark sneer on his face and his eyes as cold an arctic lake.

Hermione instantly stepped back a bit.

"Oh, … he was just asking … who his mummy is."

Hermione's voice sounded shaky. She composed herself and looked Draco straight into his eyes.

"Why haven't you told him, yet?" She asked a bit more forceful than she had hoped.

Draco walked over to Marcel and picked him up, before turning back to her, glaring at her.

"It's none of your business, Granger," he snapped and turned toward the door.

"But it is … he needs to know …. Aren't you going to tell him?"

"Yes Daddy," Marcel piped up, looking expectantly at Malfoy.

Draco averted his eyes from Hermione and looked lovingly at his son.

"I will tell you, Marcel, but right now is not the right time. Lunch is ready. Aren't you hungry?"

"I want to know, NOW!" yelled Marcel and wiggled around in his father's arms.

"We are having chocolate cake, Marcel," Draco bribed him.

"Chocate?" Marcel repeated, his face instantly relaxing.

"Yes, chocolate cake, for dessert," and turning to Hermione, he said, "I expect you can find your own way to the dining hall … Ms. Granger?" making a point to emphasize her surname, before he left into the hallway. He could have called her mudblood with all the coldness he had addressed her with.

Hermione was stunned and put off to say the least. How dare he treat her this way? She was really getting a tad bit tired of the act and swore to herself to have a talk with him as soon as the circumstances would allow it. After all, it wasn't her fault that Marcel asked for his mother. Every child should have a mother or at least know about her.

Huffing in indignation, she stepped out into the hallway and made her way to the dining room.

"If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say you had a run in with a dementor, Draco," Severus commented, after seeing Draco enter the room with his son on his arm and his face as white as a sheet. "Or perhaps, a certain bushy haired know-it-all has taken your appetite away with her incessant questions?" Snape mused, chuckling softly.

"You can say that," replied Draco with clenched teeth, while putting his son on a chair and taking a seat next to him.

"How intriguing," said Snape and poured a glass of wine for Draco and himself.

"I assume she is not joining us for lunch then?"

Draco made a grunting sound and nodded.

Just then, Hermione stepped into the room and cautiously walked toward the table. After all this, she wasn't sure if she was welcome to eat with Mr. Big Arse Extraordinaire.

Draco looked up at her coldly and gave an impatient gesture with his arm.

"Well? Don't just stand there. Come on and sit down already. We won't bite," he exclaimed rudely, making it even harder for Hermione to keep her anger under control. Who did he think he was?

She took a seat on the opposite side of Draco, right next to Severus. After all the cold stares he'd given her, she almost welcomed sitting next to the old dungeon bat, rather than having to engage with a disgruntled Malfoy.

The lunch affair was a silent one for the most part. Only occasionally, Marcel asked a question or commented on something, but even this ceased after the chocolate cake appeared before him.

Hermione watched in shock as Marcel pulled the cake closer to himself and dug into it with both his hands. She was about to say something, when a hand grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her to her feet. She turned around and looked right into Draco's sneering face.

"I think there are a few things we need to discuss?" he hissed, digging his fingers painfully into her upper arm.

She was so shocked at the sudden move that she couldn't even let out a yelp in pain.

"Marcel, you sit tight and eat your cake. After that, Morphy will bring you into your room for a shower. Severus, I hope you don't mind, but I have to speak to my fiancée … in private."

"WHAT? Why do I have to go then?" Hermione yelped, but despite her weight and unwillingness to follow him, he nevertheless managed to pull her along.

They crossed the hallway and entered the office, Draco shutting the door behind him with a swish of his hand.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

'Wandless magic? The git could do wandless magic? And what was that all about him having to have a talk with his fiancée? Was he engaged? Tracy perhaps, the sexy but brainless Slytherin girl? So why did he pull her, Hermione, along; as a mediator perhaps? Well, he had another thing coming. She could care less about him and his fiancée.

Draco shoved a stunned Hermione closer to an armchair and pushed her into it. Then he proceeded to walk back and forth in front of her, like a caged animal.

Hermione didn't know what to do or to say. She just watched him, her eyes wide open and her mouth dry. This went on for a good two minutes, until she couldn't stand his silence any longer. She just didn't know what to say. Should she apologize? But for what? She hadn't done anything that needed an apology.

"Draco, I … I really like your new haircut…" There, she had made the first step. It was high time she had said something to him anyway. She had noticed his short haircut in the club already and it suited him nicely. It was much better than the old fashioned style Lucius had. Besides, she really felt much more at ease with Draco when he wasn't looking like the spit image of his father.

Draco had stopped abruptly and stared at Hermione utterly confused.

"That's all you've got to say?" He asked.

"Well yeah, what else do you want to hear?"

"Well, thanks, I guess, but that's not why I pulled you into my office," he answered, gazing intently at her.

"I figured that, Malfoy, but …. I just wanted to break the ice. Besides you are wearing out the runner," said Hermione, pointing at his feet.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head in disbelief.

"Well, for starters, why didn't you say anything when I mentioned to Severus that I had to speak to my fiancée?"

Hermione rang her hands nervously. She really didn't like the way this conversation was going.

"Why would I care? Whoever you are engaged to is your business, Malfoy. I'm sure that in due time I would find out who the "lucky" girl is?" Hermione let out a nervous snort, before clapping a hand to her mouth. She really didn't want to make fun of him.

"Oh … and who do you think my fiancée is?" Malfoy pressed on, his eyes becoming more intense.

Hermione shook her head.

"I don't know, maybe the brainless goddess I had the misfortune to meet a few days ago?"

She knew he'd get pissed after her last comment, but she just couldn't help it. The nerve of him, asking her who his fiancée was … how the hell would she know?

Draco's laugh ripped Hermione out of her reverie. She gave him a deathly glare, while he fell back into an armchair opposite her, holding his stomach in a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny, Malfoy?"

He took a deep breath and wiped a tear from his cheek.

"You are really funny sometimes, Granger. As a matter of fact, I haven't had so much fun since I left Hogwarts."

"Well, I'm glad I'm good for something, Malfoy, not that I can see the humor in this pathetic situation, but I'm ever so glad you do," huffed Hermione indignantly. The faster she could get back to the study room with Marcel the better.

"Let me make one thing clear, Malfoy, if you think that I will play hostess for your wedding to this dimwitted girl then you are sorely mistaken."

"Calm down Granger, she is … well was … just an easy fuck, that's all," he answered, his amused smile fading from his lips and being replaced by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

He scooted closer to her and took her hand.

"I want you to become my fiancée," he whispered, his thumb stroking the top of her hand.

Quickly Hermione pulled her hand away and stood up.

"What?"

"Will you be my fiancée?" Draco answered a bit louder, while looking up at her.

"NO, of course not," replied Hermione. "Why would I want to?"

Draco got up from his chair as well and slowly walked toward her.

She quickly looked around for an escape route, and, spotting the door, inched her way toward it.

What was up with him? He never acted that strange around her before? He hated her, didn't he?

"And why not?" asked Draco, all the while pursuing her like a bird its prey.

"Be … because … why would we? We HATE each other!"

He got closer to her, leading her toward the wall and further away from the door.

"Really? You mean, you hate me?"

"Oh please, Draco, you have hated me since I stepped foot into Hogwarts. So don't give me that!"

Hermione was near the wall now, reaching behind her, she could feel the expensive tapestry. One more step and she would be trapped.

"How would you know, Hermione? Don't act like you know me? You haven't got a clue about my feelings."

Hermione had to think fast, if she wanted to escape this situation. She quickly stepped sideways, but his arm caught her and pushed her against the wall.

"In case you haven't noticed, I've had a crush on you since you hit me in my jaw. I've been pursuing you ever since, and, if it hadn't been for Pisser Potter and his weasel, I would have succeeded."

"Oh, really?" answered Hermione glaring at him.

Draco's face was so close now that Hermione felt his breath on her own. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Her head was spinning and she felt nauseas. Before she could think of her next course of action, his lips crashed down on hers. This was her undoing. She slowly leaned into him while he coaxed her mouth open. Hermione's knees felt weak, while their tongues entwined, fighting for dominance.

It was wrong! It was all wrong! She had to stop this before it was too late. Her body had already begun to betray her, after his hand made its way down her side toward her hips and legs.

'Oh gods, please Merlin help,' Hermione prayed. She had to stop this! NOW! He deepened his kiss, his hand caressing her breast very lightly.

"Draco!"

"Yes?"

"STOP NOW!"

"No!"

With all the power she had in her she brought her hands around to his chest and shoved him away.

He looked at her. Was there hurt in his eyes?

"Don't you love me a bit, Hermione?"

He glanced at her hopeful.

She didn't know how to answer that. Did she love him? What kind of questions was this anyway? She hadn't thought about it. She had never canvassed the idea of liking Draco Malfoy, the boy who had made her life hell during her school years.

But, deep down, hadn't she always liked the attention he had given her? And hadn't she felt a pang of jealously after watching Draco kiss the Slytherin harlot?

Perhaps, but Hermione wasn't about to admit this to anyone, least herself.

She shook her head resolutely.

"No, Draco, I don't love you, I never have and I never will. Now let me go!"

She hissed the last words, knowing it slashed through his self composure like a knife.

Draco held up his arms and stepped back.

"Sure! No problem. Go ahead and go then if you must. You can finish out the week. I will, of course, pay you for your services this week," said Draco, his voice sounding calm but cold.

He stepped further away from her, turned and left the room quickly.

A shudder went through Hermione's body and her knees gave out. She slid down the wall until she sat on the floor, not able to hold back the tears any longer. All the tension that had built up over the last few weeks finally came pouring out of her. Suddenly, she felt alone; utterly alone. What had she done? She remembered the hurt look on Draco's face and instantly felt sick in her stomach. Did she care for him? Why oh why did he continue to make her life hell? Why didn't he just go back to hating her and calling her a mudblood like before? Not that Hermione liked it very much, but at least it was familiar ground and she could deal with it, knew how to deal with it.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall, not seeing the cool grey eyes watching her, before they disappeared behind a closing door.