Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
"Dawn Could Never Be Dusk"
A famous person once said, "The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane."
That famous person turned out to be a Roman Emperor.
Hermione wished she could have the power be one, to influence the fates, to dictate the laws… to escape, to choose.
Right then, however, as she walked around the place she didn't belong, the desire to flee and run wildly into the unknown was becoming unbearable, whilst she knew even a single drop of possibility was unseen.
She looked up at her husband with awe as they walked around the room. He was confidently talking with some of his colleagues while holding a glass of whiskey, his other hand never leaving her waist. He had such fine grace and amicability. It was amazing. But above all, his dominance was foreboding, as if every word from his lips was law. She realised it was necessary as every soul in the room pictured him as an important someone who was a member of their lord's inner circle.
The social gathering was beyond what she had expected. The sophistication was there, but it was a bit loud as well, mostly designed for young pureblood men's enjoyment. It was a mixture of class to strategically designed propositions and to just pure revelry. She had recognised a lot of faces, mostly from the Slytherin house. There were some scantily dressed girls who were serving the guests with wine, cheese and crackers. Spiced meats and a feast of fruits and bread were also presented on larger tables by the sides to cater the needs of the guests.
Different card games were provided on the gambling area, in which most of the men were very much into. They had their mistresses serving them, Hermione noticed. The girls in that area seemed to be sweeter and more flirtatious to their lovers, probably too afraid of the fact that they were great candidates to be gambled away.
Hermione realised that this wasn't just a party for those who wanted to have fun. It was also a business transaction. Mingling and enjoyment were present, but they weren't the priority of everyone. Each one had something each wanted. Each one wanted to gain something from someone. Each one was playing an enigmatic game to benefit. Just like her.
She was, indeed, in the ranks of the insane.
Her husband was now talking to Miles Bletchley, whom she remembered to be Adrian's classmate and who seemed to be too keen on staring at her décolletage every time Draco would look the other way and be diverted by his other colleagues. The man was giving her the creeps, honestly, especially that Adrian once told her to stay away from him and that on one occasion the bloke had even stolen her picture.
When she looked away, however, she was met by the resentful stares of none other than Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davies and Daphne Greengrass; her ex-classmates slash ex-best friends.
Pansy Parkinson was sipping on her wine, grimacing in disgust when she looked at Hermione who was then tightly tucked around Draco's protective arm. The girl was looking at her as if she was the dirtiest of all the shit in this world. Her eyes were oozing with implausible jealousy as they landed on Hermione's wedding ring. Hermione could swear she had literally looked green, or maybe it was just the light of the party, she couldn't tell with that entire scowl anymore.
Daphne Greengrass seemed to join her with the staring game, as if they were throwing invisible poisoned daggers to Hermione in order to slowly kill her. Blaise wasn't there and there were rumours floating around the room that he'd been hurt pretty badly which was why he needed to stay at his manor house at Italy to be healed by expert healers.
It was said that they even needed to hire curse breakers to alleviate the mental pain of the cruciatus curse that had been aimed at him. Apparently, his girlfriend knew that Hermione was the reason of it all. And apparently, Daphne blamed her to an impossible height. Hermione could swear that if given the chance, the blonde could really kill her right then and there. Blaise must have probably told her everything, Hermione knew she needed to be more cautious and to thread softly in that area now.
Tracey Davies was the calmer one among the three. She'd always been the least bitchy among the group, though that didn't mean she wasn't a bitch as well. Hermione could never forget the look of irresoluteness on her face during the time they pushed Ginny inside an abandoned shack in that one rebellious all girls night out. Tracey had always acted like her charlatan friends, doing anything just to be considered one of them, but during that night that she said she was sorry before running away, and the day Hermione had seen her mother in that transfigured boggart in which Draco and his friends illegally used to punish them, it was obvious that Tracey really wasn't all that she was showing. She was, somehow, cut out to be in the same page that Hermione was.
Ginny was long gone. But truly, when everything was said and done, maybe you just had to look back and think about everything all over again.
"Ah, Malfoy… How do you find the party tonight?"
Hermione's attention directly went into the possessor of the manor house, Graham Montague. She hadn't seen much of him, but had heard of his particular loyalty to Draco. She had heard from Snape that he was trying to take Blaise Zabini's position as Draco's best mate, and as regards to what happened to Blaise, the fates were very much starting to cooperate with him.
"Montague," Draco regarded him. "It's not bad. Well done," he continued while absentmindedly kissing Hermione's hair, squeezing his wife next to him like a precious cuddly toy.
Montague seemed to do the same with the diffident girl he was with. She had the same brown curls as Hermione did. It amused her. She guessed the girl was Montague's mistress, and a little too young to be one too. She could be his little sister, honestly, though that wouldn't appear right the way he was ogling at her.
Hermione tried to smile at the younger girl. When she smiled back shyly, Hermione couldn't help but remember Ginny, the little sister she never had. She suddenly felt very protective of the younger girl, and very angry towards Montague for taking advantage of her innocence, even parading her around with that skimpy dress.
"Higgs is putting up his villa at Tuscany," Montague mentioned as they moved towards the gambling table, dragging the timid girl with him.
Draco didn't say a thing but just sat down to watch the newly formed reckless gambling among his associates, stirring Hermione so she could sit on his lap. It was quite awkward, being watched by the public as she sat there with Draco's hands obviously touching every inch they could reach. But then again, everyone was doing it. Maybe it was an unvoiced touch-your-girls-to-look-trendy code.
She could see Miles Bletchley's covetous eyes focusing on the trails of Draco's slender, mischievous hands on her body. It was disturbing, but Draco didn't seem to mind. He seemed proud, even. Most of the time, her husband was just a jerk.
"I'm placing up my rural château in Amboise," Bletchley announced smugly, still staring at Hermione. "Before I take on Higgs, however, I want another lady in my collection."
It was so obvious on how that statement was ludicrously aimed at Draco, who didn't say a thing but just played with Hermione's hand, particularly stroking her expensive, diamond ring. This act seemed to displease Bletchley, who then suddenly hissed in annoyance, being reminded of something he had shamefully forgotten. Hermione was unavailable, obviously, due to her status as a wife of a pureblood. He cursed a little, which resulted to a small, conceited smirk from a bored Draco Malfoy.
"I'll take you on for your mudblood, Montague," Bletchley finally offered instead, looking a bit pissed.
Montague's girl stiffened, looking very much panicked as she waited for her master's decision.
Hermione wanted to help her out of this situation, but she couldn't do anything other than to witness the show. Draco seemed unmindful of what was going on. He was twirling his wife's hair as if it was his only entertainment. Hermione wanted to slap his hand away and demand him to save the poor girl, but she knew very well that Draco would never accept that act. He might lock her up in their room forever if she did so. This was a very rare opportunity. She needed to be in her best behaviour.
So instead, she waited in bated breath, looking at her husband as if pleading him to do something, anything, but he didn't.
Her little Ginny... Hermione wanted to cry for her. Hermione wanted to—
"No," Montague answered. Hermione was damn sure everyone heard her sigh in relief.
"Come again?" Bletchley asked, almost laughing. Surely, he had heard wrong. How did mudbloods suddenly become as costly as this?
"I'll put up my lake house at Chiddingfold. My mudblood is a new possession and she's not for sale… for now," Montague replied calmly. They were talking as if her race was not even considered to be in the human category. Hermione wanted to curse the bastard's balls off.
She stared at Draco, but he only seemed amused. His other hand was now possessively squeezing her knee. He was kissing her shoulder and rubbing her waist as he waited for the two to settle everything.
Fortunately, the game started without a curse or two as they hesitantly settled everything in a civil manner. Draco eventually joined while gambling away some of his estates. He was good at this or was just incredibly lucky, Hermione could tell, as he had won several possessions, not that he needed them, really. It was just all about pride and cordiality. Funny how some people could win and get something they never really needed.
A lot of girls had been gambled away, but fortunately, Montague stuck with his word and kept his girl. Hermione was just too relieved. The girl looked horrifyingly young, really. She looked like she was only fourteen or fifteen. She should be studying in Hogwarts now, worrying about an Arithmancy homework rather than the possibility of becoming a bidding price.
This war had definitely taken its toll on people; well, to those who belonged to the unaccepted rank, anyway.
The party was in full swing after quite a while and everyone seemed to get a little drunk. Some girls were having a strip tease in the corner. Hoard of laughter could be heard everywhere and glasses were broken here and there. Hermione could swear she'd seen a couple having sex at the corner but she didn't want to look again just to confirm it.
She was finally getting impatient. She was more than discouraged, actually. This didn't turn out to be what she was aiming for. She hadn't talked much with the mistresses. It seemed that they were deeming her to be of higher status than they were because she was legally a wife, thus isolating her from the group.
The pureblood women hated her more. They believed she was too full of herself for even marrying someone like Draco Malfoy, a pureblood supremacist, when she was nothing but just a mudblood.
The distaste from the girls had placed Hermione's hopes to the ground. The only group who wanted to talk to her was the warm-blooded male population, and she damn well knew her husband would just murder one if she ever dare to consider looking back at them.
Draco was busy talking to one of his regiments, but they weren't talking anything about the warfare. They were talking about some of the results of a Quidditch game held at Ireland by the Kenmare Kestrels against Vratsa Vultures, primarily on the amount of galleons lost and gained by each party in their parimutuel betting.
Hermione wasn't surprised of the amount sanctioned in by the negotiators. This was all about pureblood aristocracy. This was all about old money. Somehow, being raised by the Puceys, a very traditional pureblood family, she understood that.
She was actually more surprised of the fact that Quidditch was still alive in this ramshackle, dead world. She guessed it was really the pureblood world now. And mudbloods like her were just part of the commodities, mostly in the sex department. It was too degrading; she couldn't even bring herself to fully accept it.
She looked around and found Montague delicately kissing his young mistress at the sides. It was a very gentle kiss, so far from the activities of endless, brutal snogging in the room. He seemed really taken by her, kissing her the way Draco would kiss Hermione when she was all upset and scared.
The girl whispered something at Montague. He frowned a bit, but later on sighed and kissed her temple before letting her go. Hermione's eyes followed her trail until she disappeared in the second floor. She must have asked him to let her rest for the night, and it was quite amazing how she'd actually managed to make him say yes.
Hermione wanted to talk to her, but when she stepped a bit to follow, she was pulled by Draco's possessive arm. "Where d'ya think you're going?" He asked, slurring a little due to his tipsy state.
"I just want to—," her words were ceased when he suddenly plunged down to kiss her deeply. He smelled of alcohol, smoke and pines. His weight was a bit straining as he leaned in to kiss her more intensely.
"Draco, stop," she complained, trying to dodge his kisses, but he wouldn't have any of it as he attacked her neck with his brutal open-mouthed kisses. He was stroking her curves too sensually, if she wasn't aware of the people watching them, she could have really moaned. She mentally slapped herself for being so weak. "Please, Draco. People are starting to stare."
"You smell so fucking good," he drawled while threading his hands along her thick, wild curls, breathing her scent in the process. "And so sexy…"
"Not here, Draco, please." She could only whine in protest. He was starting to grope her breasts now. He was too drunk to care. For all she knew, he might have even been enjoying the stares from the crowd. But she wouldn't accept this. She wouldn't give up. She couldn't possibly sink lower than what she already was.
"Stop, Draco, please…"
"I just want to fuck you in that fucking wall and—"
"Stop treating me like a whore!" She suddenly shouted at him and this seemed to put him off guard. Even on his tipsy state, he seemed to realise what he'd done as he looked at her with a stunned expression.
"Am I your wife or just your slut?" She spat. She didn't know what has gotten into her but her lips were starting to tremble. There seemed to be a huge tension going on inside her paranasal sinuses and her eyes were starting to water. She felt pathetic but her heart just wouldn't stop hammering in an impossible speed. She was starting to cry and she didn't know why. Maybe insanity was really starting to creep in on her. Or maybe it was because of the realisation that she really was just his whore.
"Am I your wife, Draco?"
"Y-You are…"
"Then stop treating me like a whore."
"I'm sorry," Draco sounded like cold water had just been poured into him. He was a bit shocked as she was by her tears. "You're my wife… I'm sorry." He pulled her head into his chest and hugged her closely. He was still a bit tipsy and unstable, but he looked truly sorry. This made her cry even more. She was starting to be too emotional, it was really quite unbecoming.
They remained pressed with each other for a while, neither really had something to say. So she closed her eyes and listened to those drumbeats jumping through his dinner suit. It wasn't as loud as the music, but it was the only thing that was familiar to her.
She just wished everything would all go away.
Frankly, she was really tired of this game that no one was winning. It was like 'hide and seek' all over again, but no one was actually finding anyone, because everyone was hiding, cooped up inside the darkness of the little world they've created to make themselves believe that they were safe, even if in truth, there never was anything to hide from in the first place.
It was like sitting down on a pile of sand while staring at the horizon, thinking and believing so much that it was dawn. The weak sunlight was there, giving you that giddy feeling that finally, sunrise was coming. And you wondered why the sun was taking so long. And you wondered why that little weak sunlight was starting to disappear. And you wondered why it was suddenly darker.
Until finally, it would hit you, it was actually dusk, and you've forgotten because you were too busy. You were waiting for darkness instead of the light, but you've forgotten.
The sky looked the same during dawn and dusk, after all, like those sheets of parchments that looked the same, smelled the same. But they were never made to tell the same stories.
"Malfoy." Both looked around and saw Montague, standing rather nervously, pulling his necktie a little to lessen the evident tension in his voice.
"It has been a suitable gathering, Montague. You did well. But I think my wife and I should call it a night," Draco announced while gently pulling his wife's waist for their departure. He appeared to be slurring a bit, but he had the most control when he wanted to.
"Theodore Nott. He's here." This seemed to take Draco off guard as he stared back at his contingent. Hermione was sure her heart had suddenly done a somersault that would have probably hit her ribcage way too hard that she needed to splint it with her trembling hand.
Theo? Theo is here?
"What does he want?" Draco asked. His voice was suddenly filled with cruel disparagement. He was squeezing Hermione's waist harder than what he had intended, making her wince in the slight pain. She was sure it would leave a bruise somehow.
"He wants to talk to you."
"He refused to have anything to do with us before. He just disappeared out of nowhere and now he wants to talk to me?"
"There are rumours that he supported the Order," Montague nodded. "But he refuses it as well… says he's too self-governing to do such a gutless thing."
Draco just snorted in displeasure.
Montague shrugged. "It's Nott. He does anything he wants. Perhaps he's bored of being too silent, looking for some trouble or whatnot. Or maybe…" Montague's voice trailed off as he turned his head slightly to Hermione.
This simple act seemed to grate on Draco's temper. Hermione could swear she had heard a feral grumble on his throat. Everyone knew that Theo and Hermione had somehow been considered as an item ever since he had officially announced his courtship to her on that day he kissed her at the Great Hall.
Draco looked like he could actually kill someone now.
"Stay here," Draco demanded as he pushed her shoulder down to let her sit on a certain barstool.
"Where are you going?"
"Stay here."
"But Draco—"
"Stay."
Hermione knew the argument was over. She watched as her husband stormed off with Montague to eventually be swallowed by the crowd.
Her heart was pounding too much, it was becoming painful. It was too difficult to breathe, even. She felt like she was drowning in murky waters. She felt like she was being swallowed whole.
It was a confusing feeling…
"I'm battle scarred. But you must know I'm healing. You made me understand the things that have temporarily made me stupid and blind from everything. You saved my life, Theo. What made you think I don't want to kiss you? I might not do it now, but you must know that today doesn't constitute on anything in the future," she told him softly, still caressing the scars on his neck, the beautiful taints that she would be forever grateful for.
"Would you give us a chance then? When you come back?" He asked her softly.
"Yes."
Theo…
He's here.
It had been so long since she last saw his face, his scar. But now that she remembered, she couldn't help but feel that distressing guilt again. She couldn't help but think that she actually missed him, but not enough, and that actuality made the guilt even more powerful.
Did he know then? Did he know the extent she had gone to have broken that promise? Would he hate her now? Would it even matter if he did? Wasn't it too late to even think so?
She was too conflicted, it was almost crazy.
She really didn't know why. She was becoming like the Lady of Shalott, foolishly staring at the reflection of the knight in the mirror, wishing he could save her when in fact she'd actually die if he ever did. Theo was her knight. But Draco was her tower, her curse, her life.
Theo could save her, but Draco was her addictive enchantment, a curse she could never break; not even for a kiss.
She was literally shaking as she hugged herself. She was becoming a masochistic madcap. She wanted the rain to make her ill. She wanted the knife so she could bleed. She wanted to cry underwater to cover her cold sadness. She wanted to hate in order to love. She wanted the saddest ballads because they turned out to be the most beautiful. She wanted to feel everything because she was both selfish and selfless.
She loved the way it damaged her, and it was shameful.
She needed his curse, and it was shameful.
She didn't need to be saved, and it was shameful.
In the middle of the crowded room, it seemed unlikely to think that she wasn't alone; just as it was unlikely to think that the dawn was the same as the dusk.
A/N:
I miss Theo! I really do. I don't know why, haha.
Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and please tell me what you think. I have a lot of plans for the next chapters! Yay!
Also, I sketched a little something for my Dramione. I made it because my heart was filled with this story but I just couldn't find enough muses to get it to words, so I started to draw to get it back. I usually draw when my words just fail me. I posted it at my photobucket site.
I'm a little rusty now as I've never really drawn that much for quite a while. But there you go… my simple pencil and pen version of Draco and Hermione.
Here's the link:
(Please remove all underscores before doing so)
http:_/_i1203._photobucket._com_/albums_/_bb381/_BelleOfSummer/_Almost%_20_Perfect_%20_Almost_%20Yours_/_GEDC0039._jpg
Thanks guys for everything! Tell me what you think please?
Have a blessed day!
Love, Sue
Song for this chapter: "Love the Way You Lie" Part 2 by Rihanna ft. Eminem
Thanks to your fellow reader, Amelia Raihan, for suggesting this song. I've always loved the Part One, but Part Two just says everything about my twisted Hermione and Draco! :D
I'll be posting the lyrics again because darnnn, you guys are just too good in finding the right music! And when I come to think about it, this song actually fits the whole story and not just a chapter of it, from the beautiful start to the destructive times. Thank you lovely Amelia!
(Rihanna- Hermione, Draco- Eminem)
HERMIONE:
On the first page of our story
The future seemed so bright
Then this thing turned out so evil
I don't know why I'm still surprised
Even angels have their wicked schemes
And you take that to new extremes
But you'll always be my hero
Even though you've lost your mind
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie
Now there's gravel in our voices
Glass is shattered from the fight
And this tug of war, you'll always win
Even when I'm right
'Cause you feed me fables from your head
With violent words and empty threats
And it's sick that all these battles
Are what keeps me satisfied
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie
So maybe I'm a masochist
I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave
Till the walls are going up
In smoke with all our memories
888
DRACO:
It's morning, you wake, a sunray hits your face
Smeared makeup as we lay in the wake of destruction
Hush baby, speak softly, tell me you're awfully sorry
That you pushed me into the coffee table last night
So I can push you off me
Try and touch me so I can scream at you not to touch me
Run out the room and I'll follow you like a lost puppy
Baby, without you, I'm nothing, I'm so lost, hug me
Then tell me how ugly I am, but that you'll always love me
Then after that, shove me, in the aftermath of the
Destructive path that we're on, two psychopaths but we
Know that no matter how many knives we put in each other's backs
That we'll have each other's backs, 'cause we're that lucky
Together, we move mountains, let's not make mountains out of molehills,
You hit me twice, yeah, but who's countin'?
I may have hit you three times, I'm startin' to lose count
But together, we'll live forever, we found the youth fountain
Our love is crazy, we're nuts, but I refused counsellin'
This house is too huge, if you move out I'll burn all two thousand
Square feet of it to the ground, ain't shit you can do about it
With you I'm in my fuckin' mind, without you, I'm out it
888
HERMIONE:
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie