Warning: Abortion is discussed in this chapter! If this topic offends/distresses you in any way, please do not read.
Hermione's inhibitions about the previous night were thrown out of the window as she rushed back to the flat. She could hear the shower running, and banged on the door to get Draco's attention.
"What the bloody hell do you want?" He asked, appearing from the bathroom wearing only a towel. "If you hadn't noticed, I was just in the shower."
"But it's important!" She hurriedly explained what Ginny had found and grinned at him, waiting for a positive reaction.
"That's great…" He mumbled, straining a smile. Hermione wondered why he wasn't as pleased as he should have been, but didn't push the subject. "An owl came for you, and I took the liberty of reading it; it's from Zachary."
"What did he say?" She asked, shrugging off her coat.
"He wanted to speak about the court case, asked us if we wanted to stop over for lunch."
"Excellent. I'll just send a note telling him to expect us."
Melanie had produced a great lunch for them; a plateful of cucumber sandwiches, pork pies, sausage rolls and a large selection of homemade cakes. Draco was hardly listening to Zachary speak as he piled his plate high, until Hermione directed an elbow into his rib. She had told Zachary everything that Ginny had found, and her boss was practically quivering with happiness.
"Fantastic! Your friend can have a job with us if she likes, after she's popped."
"Unfortunately her heart belongs to Quidditch." Hermione replied, smiling. "She plays for the Holyhead Harpies." Zachary viciously bit into a sandwich and sighed.
"Figures; the best ones always have other things to do. Except you, of course." Hermione inclined her head as a coy means of saying thank you,
"So do you have a date for our trial yet?" Draco asked perkily.
"I do, as a matter of fact: 3rd February, 9:30am. It'll be in front of the whole Wizengamot, as you're making some pretty serious accusations." Hermione looked a little bit queasy, and she was wringing her hands anxiously.
"They're really harsh, aren't they? Harry told me how it was at his court case; they're biased and unjust…"
"They were. You have to remember that the ministry was under Fudge and Umbridge at the time. The Chief Warlock is Colin Creevey; he's as fair as they come." Hermione, and everyone else who remembered Colin, was surprised when he became the Chief Warlock. He had paved his way through the ministry after leaving school and was fully deserving of the position. However, he was still a shameless fan of Harry.
"Do you have any tips for how we should act? In the courtroom, I mean?" Draco asked.
"Well…stick to your story, keep on the right track. Don't say one thing and then contradict yourself, otherwise they won't believe a thing you say! That's all there is to it really…oh, and don't be threatened by your father." Draco seemed to pale at the mention of Lucius, but he didn't linger on the thought as Melanie returned and invited them into the sitting room.
After a couple of hours of jokes, anecdotes and copious amounts of tea and cake, Draco and Hermione left the house. As they said goodbye on the porch, Hermione gave Zachary a warm hug.
"I know that wasn't exactly appropriate, but I just want to say thank you. You've been a great help."
"It's nothing." Zachary replied somewhat sheepishly. "You're a friend."
"Do you think we'll have a good chance of winning? Will the Wizengamot be sympathetic?"
"I bloody well think so! With the evidence you've got, they'd be stupid not to be! It wouldn't surprise me if you got, at least, 1 million galleons."
"But that's 5 million pounds!" Hermione gasped.
"Yes, and you deserve it for what that git has put you through. You head home safely now, alright? I'll see you at work next week; bright and early as usual, please!" Draco and Hermione headed off down the street; it was dark outside now and the street lamps cast an orange hue across the road.
"We should go out and celebrate!" Draco announced, kicking a stray stone. "Let's go and have a few drinks."
"I don't think that's such a good idea." Hermione confessed. "I wanted to do some tidying, and…"
"Don't be ridiculous! We're going to get a million galleons between us, and we'll be divorced! If that isn't something to celebrate, I don't know what is." Hermione couldn't help but crack a grin.
"Oh alright then, I suppose one or two couldn't hurt." Draco looked crestfallen.
"Only one or two? I was thinking more six or seven…"
Draco's estimate was closer than Hermione's. After three glasses of white wine, one of red, two Cheeky Vimtos and a Sex on the Beach; Hermione was feeling rather sick. She absentmindedly swirled a cherry around the empty glass, as Draco ordered yet another pint.
"I think we've had enough after this…" Hermione shouted over the thumping bass. "We should go home."
"Hermione! Live a little!" Draco's words were decidedly slurred, and Hermione began to titter. She wasn't certain why it amused her.
"You have to move out of the flat." She said, leaning towards him to whisper in his ear. "Tomorrow. Pack your things and go somewhere else, I don't want you in my flat."
"Why?" He asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "I thought we were getting on well." She leaned closer and smiled, batting her eyelashes.
"We're getting on toowell I think." Suddenly, she slipped from her stool. Draco reached a hand down and tried to pull her up, but she remained sprawled on the floor.
"I think you were right about having too much to drink. Come on, we'll go home."
Neither of them was able to apparate, and so they caught a taxi back to Hermione's flat. They stumbled into the house laughing loudly and Hermione fell onto the sofa with an "Oomph!" Draco hovered in the middle of the room, swaying slightly, and Hermione noticed he looked a little peaky.
"I'm going to be sick." He dashed into the bathroom, as Hermione watched with a little giggle. Moments later, she padded in after him and found his arms cradling the toilet bowl.
"Have you finished?" She asked tenderly. "I'll get you into bed."
"Yes please!" He roared happily. "But only if you come with me!" Hermione recoiled with a wrinkled nose.
"No. You stink. I'll sleep on the sofa."
She helped him into the bedroom and he fell onto the bed, instantly drifting off into a snooze. Hermione wondered how she was managing to do this, she was so drunk herself! She quietly made a vow never to touch alcohol again, before unbuttoning Draco's shirt. Once she had tugged it off, he opened his eyes and grinned seductively.
"Are you taking advantage of me?" His voice was a superior drawl; it used to rile her when she was younger, but she now knew that he put it on.
"No, I'm undressing you because the shirt is full of sick." Hermione stood up and made to walk away, but Draco grabbed her wrist.
"I knew you would do me good in some way, at some time: I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you; their expression and smile did not strike delight to my inmost heart so for nothing.Mr Darcy said that you know." Hermione pulled her wrist away, trying to forget the intensity in his eyes.
"He didn't. It was Mr Rochester. Sleep well Draco." He muttered something as she walked out of the room.
"Stupid wench. Should've known that wouldn't get her into bed with me…"
Hermione closed the door behind her and stood with her back pressed against it, her eyes closed. She had a thumping headache, and it wasn't helped with what Draco had just said to her. As he was drunk she suspected it was only a jest, but the sincerity when he said it was making her uncomfortable. Could he possibly share her feelings? She doubted it, but the worry was now raised in her mind. Hermione would have liked to settle down on the sofa, but when she opened her eyes she saw someone who should not have been there. Her worry and drunkenness was replaced by a quick, and sober, fury.
"Narcissa? What the bloody hell are you doing?" The blonde looked at her apprehensively, and Hermione felt the desire to manhandle her out of the door.
"I'm here to pay you an urgent visit Hermione, regarding…"
"If it's about last night, you won't get any sympathy from me." Hermione sneered. "That is what I've had to go through since September, so you have no right to complain." Narcissa looked haughty, but it didn't intimidate Hermione
"It isn't about that, dear, although it was a nasty trick. I am here out of concern for you and Draco. It was clear during your stay with us that you and Draco have grown…closer. I fear that he hasn't been frank with you, and so I must do it for him."
"What do you mean? You can't just come to my flat in the middle of the night and talk in riddles…"
"I am referring to Draco's relationship with Pansy Crabbe. Please, come and sit down."
Hermione walked over to the sofa and sat stiffly next to Draco's mother. As much as she hated it, she was curious about Draco and Pansy, and Narcissa seemed willing to tell her the truth.
"What is it? I know they were engaged and that it ended, but neither of them has told me why."
"That's because it hurt my boy terribly! Pansy was wrong, Lucius was wrong…Draco was heartbroken and I was powerless!"
"Just get on with it, Narcissa."
"I apologise, this is an emotional subject. Draco and Pansy became engaged almost as soon as they left school, they would have got married then too if it was up to Pansy. She was besotted with him, but he Draco was a bit of a bad boy; he preferred drinking and flirting to spending time with Pansy. He especially didn't want to settle down and start a family." Hermione let out a small gasp, as she suddenly realised what had happened. Lucius' jibe suddenly made sense.
"She became pregnant, didn't she?" Narcissa nodded grimly.
"She announced it one evening when at our house for dinner. Draco was thrilled, ecstatic at the idea of being a dad. He promised her that he'd change, gave up drinking and smoking; he was really determined to do good by Pansy and his child. The wedding was brought forward, to avoid any shame for them, and everything looked set to be perfect."
"What happened? Why wasn't everything perfect?" Hermione asked, fascinated with Narcissa's tale.
"Pansy didn't want the child. She was just entering into a modelling contract with Witch Weekly, and they wouldn't have her if she was pregnant. Pansy went behind Draco's back and spoke to Lucius, who arranged for her to abort the baby in Switzerland." Narcissa began to cry gently, and dabbed her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. "When Draco found out he was devastated, but he didn't want to lose Pansy. The engagement remained intact, until a week before the wedding. He couldn't bear it, and called it off."
"I'm so sorry to hear that. It's sad that he couldn't be with Pansy, especially if he loved her that much."
"It was sad indeed. That's partly the reason why we forced you together, to try and encourage him to see someone new. It's been two years."
"Perhaps he doesn't want someone new. Maybe he still loves Pansy." Narcissa looked at her seriously, a wry smile playing about her lips.
"I see that you are both still in denial. He will never forget the child he so desperately wanted, but he has already moved on from Pansy. I will leave now; you are obviously tired, and it would be rude of me to keep you. Good night." Narcissa disapparated.
In the silence of the sitting room, Hermione buried her face in her hands. If she had been confused before, it was nothing to what she felt now. Draco had, obviously, been maddeningly in love with Pansy, he had nearly been a father – it had nearly been perfect. Her heart was divided. She felt sorry for Draco, sorry for the happiness that he had lost, but was also shocked to find that she was relieved. If Pansy had never gone behind his back, they would never have been married. Blaming these crazy thoughts on the drink, she had a large drink of water and settled her head down.
Everything would become clearer in the morning.
The lines that Draco quoted are not, as Hermione corrected him, from Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice. They were in fact from Mr Rochester, who is one of the main protagonists in Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.