Disclaimer:I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.
Chapter Thirty-Six
"Be Stubborn as a Wildflower"
"Sin from thy lips?O trespass sweetly urged!Give me my sin again!"
-W. Shakespeare
This night was important.
In fact, it was too crucial that Hermione couldn't help but shudder a little; quaking in apprehension, excitement, anticipation, expectancy… There were just too much to be mentioned.
Snape had told her that she couldn't blow this chance and she had promised she wouldn't.
For the first time in months, Draco was finally taking her out. She couldn't believe it that she even cried when he told her about it.
They were attending a certain gathering prepared by Montague in his estate. A thanksgiving festivity intended for their pack's lead, Draco Malfoy. As to the reason of the sudden thanksgiving, Hermione didn't know, but she was just too ecstatic that, finally, she was going to see a different setting other than the Malfoy Manor.
Snape had also told her that this act of Draco finally allowing her to get out of the manor was one of the biggest steps he'd ever had in a long while. It was a good sign; an impending doom for his vulnerability. Not to mention the fact that she was finally going to listen in larger conversations.
It was a social merriment, Snape explained; one of those in which the Death-eaters considered as a respite from all their brutal invectives. Drinks and gaiety could make an impact to a keen observer; every word that could slip from the guests could make a huge amendment to their plans. She needed to fill her mind with all the information she could gather, but at the same time, she needed to distract her husband from knowing her real intentions as well.
Snape told her that the gathering would be so much like the pureblood parties she had attended before; only this one would revolve mainly with the illicit part of younger males, or those old pedophiles who thought of themselves worthy to be called young sirs. She would be meeting their ladies as well, but she had to be very careful in choosing whom to have a chat with. She could extract about twenty percent of useful facts from them; the rest would be pure, brutal tittle-tattles. And if she wasn't careful, these deadly gossips might be aimed at her.
The males would be very much into cards, dice, board games and skittles; gambling unimaginable estates, sometimes an unambiguous pay of large estates per annum, sometimes even gambling off their own ladies. Hermione was shocked in the mention of the latter, but Snape assured her that it was just the plain truth. It was a normal occurrence in the middle of the war where pureblood supremacy overtakes everyone and everything, where those with lower status, such as their mistresses who were mostly half-bloods and mudbloods were considered nothing more than possessions.
Snape assured her that she needed not to worry though, because she was officially a wife, so she was exempted to become a bidding price. Pureblood males loved taking with them their mistresses in such parties, but if they did ever brought a wife, the lady was meant to be respected above all. It was one of the reasons why Draco allowed her to come with these kinds of party at the first place. Snape explained she was not in danger to become a fortuitous bet any longer because she has the ring. Gambling in this kind of setting wasn't very safe, and Draco was already too well-informed to know all the danger zones before taking her with him.
To be brief, she didn't just need to play a loving, well-behaved wife, but also needed to mingle with some of the mistresses and a few pureblooded wives, if she was lucky, while maintaining a very keen disposition in every word that each of the participant in the residence was speaking. She needed to act as if she was one of them to accomplish her mission.
There were just too many things to get done!
She was in bated breath as she played with the luxurious soft, silky fabric of her red evening gown. She was seated in front of the huge vanity as she let her maidservants comb her hair. Normally, they'd style her hair in braids, or in lavish Grecian updos… but today, her tresses were completely left to flow temptingly with her gown's vibrant shade. They very much complimented her red gown as her loose curls waved naturally along her bare shoulders and back. It gave her a dominant, sexy look with her décolletage temptingly displayed in the front. It was quite a revealing outfit but the sophistication was still there as the gown flowed beautifully like waves of velvet on her legs.
Looking at herself in the mirror and towards her maidservants who hadn't uttered a word to her, she suddenly wished she was still at home, and it was her sweet Nanny Demelza who was combing her tresses.
She loved the tickly feel of Nanny Demelza's bobby pins on her hair. She missed her Nanny Demelza's hairbrush. She missed its soft bristles softly grinding her scalp, massaging her, easing her from any worries. She missed how her hair could be as stubborn as hell and how Nanny Demelza would stay and patiently fix them to make it all better.
She was her comfort. She was her home.
She missed the pull of her Nanny Demelza's hands to braid her hair, or the soft caresses in disentangling her knotted locks.
Nanny Demelza always said she was as stubborn as her hair. When she asked what it meant, the older lady just smiled, lifted her chin and tucked some of her loose curls behind her little ears.
She said she was as stubborn as a wild flower. But like a wild flower, she was delicate and beautiful.
She was not one of those garden flowers that were calculatedly seeded or planted, being tended along the most special soil of the garden, with their bred preserved to be the most beautiful from the start because they came from the best soil, the best patch, the best breed…
Nevertheless, when the harsh wind came and the painful thick droplets of rain had fallen, the beautiful petals of the well-tended flowers broke apart, as soft and as fragile as their kind were, they never survived the storm.
But there, just behind them, the wild flower bended to the wind, as if befriending it, as if kissing its glory and dominance.
When the wind stopped, the garden was nowhere to be found. All that remained was the little wildflower, shining brightly as the sun hit its features, filled with dewdrops shining like crystals.
The wildflower was even more beautiful than it was before
The dew drops signified its polished state, and her stubbornness saved her.
A small creak on the door took Hermione out from her musings. It was her husband, looking regal and grand, wearing his dinner suit in the most aristocratic manner. His dominance filled the room as Hermione's maidservants stopped whatever they were doing and bowed down at the lord of the manor, exiting the room in reverence of his presence.
Hermione looked up as her husband gently took the abandoned hairbrush on the vanity table before kissing her temple. Looking appreciatively at his wife's reflection in the mirror, he started to comb her hair.
Draco had always loved combing her hair. He loved doing it. Maybe he had this unending fetish of her long curly mane. He loved caressing them with his palms, letting the strands to gently glide along the space of his fingers.
When she caught his eyes through the reflection in the mirror, she smiled a bit. He gave a rare smile back. That was enough for her heart to skip a beat.
It was such a tender moment. Hermione only had to close her eyes to remember all over again the very first time it had started…
It started out as a feeling…
Little Draco was watching at the corner, pursing his lips and tapping his costly shoe in impatient frustration. "How long is that really going to be?" His little voice squeaked in exasperation, looking more boorish than ever. Hermione could even trace his frown in interesting shapes, she had to giggle in amusement.
"Just a minute more, young Malfoy, and then, you can go play with Hermione, okay?" Nanny Demelza smiled at the little boy standing near the window, obviously looking very impatient and annoyed of the fact that Hermione's nursemaid was taking all his playing time with Hermione away from him. What's taking her so long with braiding her hair, anyway? It appeared like a boring job, even. Surely she could do that later?
"Mother said my hair should always be well-groomed. She said I look like a fury kneazle if I don't let Nanny Demelza fix it," Hermione giggled, twirling two little pink ribbons with her little fingers, ready to give them to her Nanny once the older lady would finish braiding.
"You don't look like a kneazle, my angel. Your mother just wants to tell you just how much it's very important for a pretty girl like you to have a well-groomed hair," Nanny Demelza smiled as Hermione giggled and handed one of the pink ribbons she was holding so her nursemaid could tie her left braided pigtail.
"But I love kneazles. They are fluffy and cute," Hermione beamed. "I want to have one someday when I go to school. Draco wants to have a dragon but I think it's scary and will scare off all our future teachers so I told him we can both have kneazles together so they can go play together and the teachers won't get angry because they all look cute anyway, like me and Draco, so they'll allow us to play with them without getting angry," little Hermione said this too fast that she had to take a really long breath once she was done; still chuckling and swaying her little feet by the chair she was sitting on. Her toe shoes were embellished with white laces and light cherry-coloured trimmings.
"Oh, isn't that so?" Nanny Demelza smiled fondly at the little girl, like she was just listening to the most interesting topic in the world. Draco just rolled his eyes and pursed his lips even more, making them look like a straight line now while crossing his arms together, telling the nursemaid, loud and clear that he was becoming very impatient. Hermione's right pigtail wasn't braided yet. He wanted to play with her now!
The nursemaid just smiled in amusement at the boy's resilience. "Do you want to try?"
Draco was shocked.
How dare she?
He was a boy!
Boys never braid hairs. What did the old lady thought of him? Wait till his father hears about this.
This was just unforgivable. Grownups were really silly.
But Hermione's hair looked so… curly and wild and soft and just… soft.
He was suddenly very curious.
"Come on, dear. I'll teach you. It's pretty easy. By that, you can help me braid Hermione's hair so you two can play earlier next time. What do you say?" The nursemaid smiled fondly at the boy's suddenly blushing state.
It was an acceptable offer. Plus, he got to feel Hermione's soft tresses as well.
"Come on, honey. Hold this," Nanny Demelza beamed while gently holding Hermione's right pigtail that wasn't braided yet.
Draco frowned but tentatively reached out for her long tresses. When he finally held them, however, he found himself smiling. They were as soft as they looked.
"Just divide them in three different sections and tie them together. Here, let me show you," the nursemaid smiled while guiding little Draco's hands to cross the sections to make a gentle plait. The boy was very quiet and focused; Nanny Demelza couldn't help but be amused. When they only had an inch of unbraided hair, Hermione handed the pink ribbon and Nanny Demelza taught him how to tie it properly.
Hermione's right braid wasn't as perfect as her left, but little Draco was too proud with it as he gently touched and caressed her hair. He didn't say a word, still too proud to do so, Hermione supposed. But she would always treasure that moment… the day that Draco Malfoy first did her hair. It was still quite funny until now, but more often than not, it was still and will always be very sweet.
"Are you excited?" He gently asked her.
She nodded her accord and he was pleased by it.
He was gentle this time, so far from his alter ego last night. He'd always been so passionate of everything, especially when it comes to dominating her.
But last night, he was just too upset… too dangerous. Sometimes, she couldn't help but think that the Draco she had known before was a different person from her husband now.
He was too disconcerted that he had yelled and reprimanded her like a wayward child, shaking her like he was trying to dig up some sense in her, alternating from kissing and embracing her.
Hermione didn't know what to do. Normally, when he was upset, he would try to distance himself from her and do anything to calm down, usually break some expensive vases here and there. But that time, he had hauled her by the shoulders and dragged her towards the bathroom like it was the most vital thing to do in the world.
She hadn't even registered what was happening as he desperately tore his own bathrobe off of his body. His eyes were glistening with lust as he turned on the shower and harshly yanked her towel off, throwing it to the waterlogged tiled floor, leaving her completely naked under the deluge of hot water. In a blink second, the glass door of the shower was shut and steam had covered their drenched bodies, slightly obscuring their visions.
Hermione didn't know what to do that moment. He was rough as he kissed, sucked, bit, and nibbled her skin, pressing her body on the tiled walls with his own, grasping and squeezing her hips and breasts to the point of bruising them. She couldn't do anything but let him do what he wanted of her as she limped against the wall, screaming and whimpering, as if begging him for something she didn't even know.
Her throat stung with too much screaming. The sensations were too much, being added by the hot water and steam blurring her sight. Pain and pleasure… the sensations had overwhelmed her that she couldn't focus on one feeling to another. It had all came like a tempest, an uproar fogging her mind. She was backed against the wall as he pushed his length into her in a heady pace.
Her hair was sticking on her skin, soaked with water and sweat. She was gripping his shoulders, her nails scraping on his almost scalding skin as he continued to thrust into her, harder than he'd ever been. Their grunts and screams had unashamedly filled the shower room, competing against the spray of hot water. She could even swear their moans could be heard outside the room, but she was just too caught up of everything to even care. He took her too many times that night, quenching his insatiable need, even backing her against the shower wall, on the bathroom floor, on the wall…
They were completely exhausted when it was all over, lying naked on the wet bathroom floor, the glass door was tainted with moisture due to the condensation by increase heat transfer of the hot spray. They lay there, desperately holding each other, shaking and crying for what was worth as the shower continued to descend on them like heated rain.
"You're all I have now, Hermione. Don't ever go and destroy me."
Hermione had seen him in his most vulnerable state before, but nothing could ever top the tears he shed that night. She didn't know what to do but just hold him, cry with him… like nothing in this world mattered anymore, that she wasn't playing a spy for the Order, and he wasn't a Death eater, that they weren't set to kill each other. He was just her husband, and she his loving, devoted wife.
Never once did she question her decision because she knew she was doing the right thing. But that night… everything suddenly just hazed, like a huge fog had crawled in front of her chosen path. It was like choosing to exist without living or to live without existing. It was like choosing between jumping into the sharks or to stay inside a burning ship. It was like choosing to save your life by killing the one who holds it. Either way, you were doomed. Either way, you'd die.
"You're quiet today," Draco pondered as he ran his fingers on her long tresses, smelling them as he looked intensely back at her through the mirror.
His eyes were beautiful when he would stare at her that way. It was like having a sunny to stormy sky… It was a beautiful phenomenon. He was beautiful.
He had irises that were analogous to the change in the hues of the sky, from a little bit of blue when he was relaxed, to intense electric grey when disturbed or just filled with incomprehensible lust, like the look in his eyes last night.
Hermione blushed deeper than what she expected just by the mere convening of that memory as she stared at his reflection in the mirror, with those soft bangs covering his eyes a little.
She could trace the lines of his face, like tingling ripples of the lake under the midday sun. He was like the tintype of the little boy from long ago, blackened by lacquering, damaged by dusts, rusted by time…
"I'll wait for you at the foyer," he whispered before pressing his lips to her temple.
Hermione closed her eyes by the time the door closed slowly. Her hands were rested on her trembling heart and on the diamond of her necklace.
Secrets...
It was such a harmless word, so easy to pronounce, so lovely to whisper but too dangerous to act upon.
She had a lot of secrets before, like the time she had spilled her mother's imported jasmine essential oils, those ones that were freshly and specially gathered at night by the expert perfume makers of Egypt and Morocco as the odour of jasmine was more powerful after dark. Everything smelled of glorious jasmine blossoms as she danced across the empty room, sliding her little bare feet along the slippery floor and streaking some to her hair so that when she went to bed, her pillows smelled of them.
She had once stolen Adrian's broom to meet Draco on the back porch so they could run into their secret meadow filled with the pesky dandelions she loved and in which her mother hated so much. He would teach her how to fly even if she was a bit scared to do so.
She would secretly wake up too early in the morning during the Triwizard Tournament era at Hogwarts just to meet and kiss him behind the dusty shelves of the library, with the ribbons of light from the windowpane glowing in circles towards them.
He would whisper her some secrets to keep, like a poet of long ago speaking softly of poems into his very own muse.
Hermione had always found secrets to be exciting and delightful, not vindictive and deadly.
And now she was trapped with a secret that could actually cause the ruin of the very man she had first learned to whisper her first secret with.
He was waiting for her as she walked down the sophisticated English Tudor staircase, just like he always did when they were younger, when she would run as fast as she could so she could play with him.
This time however, each step closer towards him felt like a single pierce to her ribcage. Each step made her feel closer to her guilt. Each step was painful, shameful.
But each step was necessary for a stubborn wild flower to survive.
"Hermione, my little angel; remember this always," Nanny Demelza whispered. "A woman's true beauty does not come from her sophisticated gowns, expensive diamonds, pretty hats or lovely shoes. Keep in mind that those are only tokens given to women to commend their beauty. It is necessary to appreciate beauty and grace, after all. True beauty doesn't even come from a woman's knowledge of instruments, music, dance, classic and modern languages or from the piles of books she has read. Those are important, but never truly indispensable. But a woman's true beauty is from the way she speaks for herself, the way she uses not just knowledge but wisdom in every decision she makes.
"It is not always from the place or the root she comes from, not even the place she ends up. What matters is if in that place, she still stands tall and does not end up on the ground to helplessly die and wish she'd chosen a different path.
"Be strong, my angel. Whatever you do, never give up. You're allowed to cry. Tears can be drained but remember that they're also just water. Take a sip on a random fountain and you will have them back. But the light in you, my sweet, that flaming zeal and eager desire that you have, it will take you far. Never give it up. Stand up to your principles. Love the people you want to love. Dream the dreams you dream. Own them if you must. But most importantly, never step on people along the way. Stand up for what you think is right.
"A wild flower survives and endures, as stubborn as it may seem. Be like a wildflower, little Hermione. And you will see, even the wind will bow down at you."
She stopped as she finally reached him, keeping her right hand on the handrail while still standing on the last two steps, making her looked a bit taller than him as she looked down.
She could see a hint of smile in his features as he looked up at her. He was looking up at her like she was an angel, like she was the most beautiful and purest creature to ever live. He was so unaware of everything.
Right in that moment, when she looked down into her husband's eyes, she had contemplated on running away, on telling him everything…
But she knew she couldn't, because she loved him more to ever allow him to continue to be a murderer.
When she finally accepted his hand, she knew there was no turning back anymore.
It was time.
Song for this chapter: "Poison and Wine" by The Civil Wars
Thanks to your fellow reader, Lily, for recommending this song! This goes for both Draco and Hermione as I imagine them both singing this to each other. I love it too much that I just have to post the lyrics here because darrrnnn, it's so short but it just speaks of everything! Thanks Lily!
(The Civil Wars. John Paul White = Draco. Joy Williams = Hermione)
Draco: You only know what I want you to
Hermione: I know everything you don't want me to
Draco: Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine
Hermione: You think your dreams are the same as mine
Draco & Hermione:
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
I always will
Hermione: I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back
Draco: The less I give the more I get back
Hermione: Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
Draco: I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you
Draco and Hermione:
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
Oh I don't love you but I always will
I always will
I always will
I always will
I always will
I always will
A/N
Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the delay! But as you all know, the holidays can pretty much take most of your time! :D Belated Happy Christmas and New Year everyone! I hope you all had a really good time with your friends, family and special someone!
I'm so happy to thank my new beta reader Miss Elizabeth12, who came out of nowhere like an angel and offered me to proofread this story. I didn't have a beta reader just because I was too lazy to find any. Haha! Mistakes had always been a problem of mine, and I'm always too lazy to recheck my spelling and grammar over and over again, hating the fact that no matter how I reread them, I still miss a lot of mistakes. So thank goodness for this lovely soul. :D So far, the first ten chapters are now officially edited. Currently, she's still working to check all of them, from start to finish and she's done with the 15th chapter now.
Also, another lovely reader of mine, xKaishisMoonx, is now my beta reader for my "She's Just Not Into You". I love that story too much and I just know it needs a beta reader as well. I will post a notification once she's done rechecking the chapters and once I officially post them.
These two are seriously like angels who just came out of nowhere to help me out! Thank you! :)
And to all, thank you so much for EVERYTHING! Seriously! I find joy in all your reviews and the views you share for this story. And yes, I do take in mind everything. :D
God bless all! Kisses :)
Sue