all characters belong to JKR
Chapter 35: The Truth, the Whole Truth:
The truth can set you free.
Hermione once heard a man say that truth was a heavy burden to bear; therefore, very few people ever carried it. No truer statement could be said about the truth. Ralph Waldo Emerson said that truth was beautiful without doubt. Hermione had been carrying doubts and lies around her neck for so long that they had become a heavy burden for her to bear, and the doubts and the lies were intertwined, and she struggled everyday just to open her eyes, breathe in and out, and muddle through. She had forgotten what the truth was. She no longer recognized it. That was why she had to finally take a step back, distinguish the lies from the truth, and when she finally did she was finally free.
In the movie "A Few Good Men," Jack Nicholson says to Tom Cruise, "You can't handle the truth!" Well, Hermione would have bet even money that never in a million years would Draco Malfoy have been able to handle the truth. Yet, she told him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and he handled it with flying colours.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle also had a wonderful quote about truth. He once said that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Winston Churchill said it even better. He said, "Truth is incontrovertible, malice may attack it and ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is."
That was how it was for Hermione and Draco. She told him the truth, and the world didn't end, the sky didn't fall, he didn't tell her he hated her, and more importantly, he didn't leave her. Though the first two were unlikely to have happened, the last two were the things she feared the most. Her fears were unfounded.
Hermione had just told everyone in the bar the whole truth about her romance, or at least her spin on it, and though it was a new spin on an old story, no one judged her for it. They listened with sympathetic ears, gave her encouraging words, and made her see that she had the courage to tell Draco the truth. When someone in the bar mentioned that they saw Draco in the other room shooting billiards with some girl, Hermione hopped off her bar stool, and with the encouragement of her new 'bar' friends, she went to the doorway that led to the other room.
The lighting was bad, her eyesight was slightly blurred due to tears cried and three pints of ale, and smoke hung so heavy in the air that Hermione was sure that the second hand smoke would give her early emphysema. However, as she stood in the doorway and she saw a blonde man leaning over a woman, teaching her to shoot a billiard cue, something snapped.
She stomped her foot and said, "You fucking coward! Stop playing billiards with that woman immediately and look at me! You have to forgive me! I am so sorry! I love you and I will do anything to make it up to you. I will even marry you if that is what you truly want, even though that's not what I want, because, damn it Draco, love is not selfish! It's not envious, boastful, or proud! It's for the other person! I will do whatever you want, just leave that woman alone and come over here and tell me that I'm forgiven! You owe me one forgiveness! You promised, you bastard!"
The man playing billiards looked up. Hermione was embarrassment personified. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. Draco said, "I don't know about the bloke playing billiards, but I know that I forgive you, Hermione."
She stared at him. She glanced back at the man with the woman at the billiard table, said, "Sorry, carry on, Sir. And Miss, you seem like a very nice lady." She took several deep breaths, turned back to Draco and asked, "Are you telling me the truth?"
"At last, yes, I am," he admitted. "I was over in the corner of the bar the whole time and I heard everything you said to the crowd. I applaud your courage for finally telling the truth. You did what I would never be able to do, and I love you for it. You did what I could never do, even though it's the exact thing that I have wanted to do the whole time, and even though I was afraid to admit the truth to even myself."
She leaned forward, unaware of all the inquiring eyes upon them, and placed her hands on his chest. She said, "You really forgive me?"
"I promised you one forgiveness, didn't I?" he asked. "Do you think I would go back on my word? However, I have to warn you, the next time you screw up, forgiveness won't be so easy to come by. I have to ask for forgiveness, too."
"What have you done?" she asked.
"I ignored the truth which I knew for so long," he said, finally placing his arms around her. "I knew how you felt. I knew you had doubts and qualms, and I knew deep inside it was a reflection of my own feelings, but out of my desperation not to lose you, I chose to ignore it."
She smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like a truthful gesture.
"Kiss her!" one man yelled.
"Goodness man, give me a moment," Draco said toward the crowd. He placed his hand on her cheek and said, "Just answer me this. What do you feel when I place my hand on your cheek?"
A woman leaned toward another patron and said, "He's trying the old cheek touching test again, like he did before." They had all heard about this from Hermione's story.
Hermione smiled and said, "I still feel the butterflies. A multitude of butterflies, and I know I will always feel that when you touch me. When you're close to me like this, my heart almost skips a beat."
Draco said, "That is all I needed to know. As long as you always feel the butterflies in your belly when I touch your cheek, I don't need a silly piece of paper to say that we're married. Although, I think that might mean you have to give the ring back." He raised one eyebrow, and gave her his sweetest smirk.
She looked at the ring on her hand as her hand rested on his chest and said, "But it's so pretty."
"I think those are the rules," some woman said from the crowd.
Hermione looked at him closely to see if he was serious or not. She really wasn't sure, so she started to take the ring off her finger, when he stopped her by covering her hand with his.
He leaned forward and whispered, "Look, I captured your hands. Isn't that the thing you like? Keep the ring. I never want to give it to anyone else but you, and it doesn't have to have an occasion associated with it." He looked toward the crowd in the billiard room, then turned his head to the left and looked at the crowd in the bar. He looked back to her and said, "I think we have kept them waiting long enough, don't you? They're patiently waiting for a kiss."
She smiled and said, "Best to commence and give the people what they want."
He dipped his head and placed his lips over hers. He kissed her as if it was the first time. It was fresh and brand new, but familiar and welcoming. It was real, true, and right. He placed his left hand around to her back to press her closer, and he opened her mouth gently under his. This was their commitment. These people were their witnesses. It didn't matter if they had a marriage certificate, because this kiss would bind them together forever, as if it was a holy vow.
He lifted his head and said, "Let's go."
They started toward the door, with Hermione turning back once and saying, "Goodbye everyone! Thanks!"
They started down the dirt road and he asked, "Did you pack up our things."
"Yes, they're still at the encampment, though," she answered.
"Can we go back? To the glade? I want us to have our commitment ceremony," he pleaded. He took his wrinkled tie from his pocket and started to thread it through his collar.
"Are you sure," she asked.
"Yes, though it's late. You're better at charms than I am, so perhaps you could charm the place like you did before, with all the vibrant fall colours, and since it's dark now, make it light and all," he said.
"We don't have to do this," she said.
"I want to, and this time, I mean it," he said. He laced her fingers in his and they walked along. "Let's walk. It's such a nice evening."
He took his jacket off and placed it over her shoulders. They started down the lane when she stopped.
"I need to say something else, first." She hesitated, not knowing where to start. She turned to face him and said, "I've been a terrible person lately. Well, not just lately, for a long time. It was never my intention to lie or hurt people. It's crap, the whole bloody thing, and for so long I didn't know what I could do to rectify everything."
"Hermione," he started only to be silenced by her. She placed her fingertips lightly on his mouth.
"For so long, Draco," she said, "I knew that I probably never wanted to get married, but everyone was doing it. Remember what you said back last winter, about how I probably just wanted to get married because everyone else was and how that wasn't a valid reason? Well, you were right."
"I wanted love and companionship, but that doesn't mean I truly wanted marriage, but likewise, I didn't want to be out in the cold. I don't know if I will ever be ready for marriage." She took his hand again, and placed both their hands on his chest. She craned her head to look up at him.
"It was wrong of me to force you into marriage, and make you feel guilty about not wanting marriage, when down deep those were my feelings as well," she said in hushed tones. "I'm more like you than you realize, because I'm not sure I can articulate why I don't want marriage, either. I just don't. I'm sorry I can't explain it better. I'm sorry if everyone is disappointed in me. I have to be true to myself, though. It's high time."
He pressed his forehead to hers, his downcast eyes staring in her eyes and he said, "I could make every excuse in the book, but I swear, I don't want marriage either, and I couldn't begin to explain it to everyone's satisfaction. Hermione, look, the way I see things, we both feel the same, for real this time. We've admitted as much, and that's all that matters. We don't have to explain anything to anyone. We only have to answer to ourselves. We only have to be true to ourselves. The rest will fall away, or not, but it doesn't matter in the end."
He picked her up and started to carry her. She smiled and asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm making sure you don't ever leave me again," he said.
"When did I leave you?" she asked.
"When you lied about wanting marriage. That wasn't you, not the real you. Now that I finally have the real you, I'm not letting you go. Never."
They finally reached the small clearing near the water's edge. He set her down on her feet, she handed him his jacket, she took out her wand to caste a charm over the trees, and once again, they took on the hues of autumn: gold, orange, red, burgundy, and yellow. She transfigured vines that were crawling up a nearby tree into thousands of fairy lights, casting a soft, luminescent glow over the small area.
She took a deep breath, to clear her mind and steady her nerves, and she turned to him. He took her hand.
He said, "With your permission, I would like to start." She wanted him to, because even though she finally had clarity, she couldn't see clearly the things she wanted to say to him. At least, not yet.
He said, "We were fools to believe that things would turn out right, when we couldn't even be honest with each other. And the one thing I wanted the most, never to cause you pain again, was the only thing that came from our deceit, and that one thought has kept me awake so many sleepless, dark, uninviting nights."
"You were always the one thing to keep me going, Hermione. Without you, I couldn't carry on and function. I couldn't get out of bed each day. I would be lost and confused, and consumed with an unending thirst."
"I don't want you to ever worry your pretty little head again that I will leave you. I won't. We are together, forever. I love you so much that it scares me. Things I used to find boring and mundane, now seem new and exciting, because I get to share them with you."
She reached up for his lips, outlined them slowly with her finger, and then kissed them. She placed her arms around his waist, and with her cheek on his chest, she listened for the beat of his heart, to either confirm or deny his claims. She only found truth.
He continued, as she once again looked up in his face. "You give me courage. You've given my life a beginning, middle, and an end. You've offered me an invitation to join you in life, and it's an offer that is too good to refuse. You're more beautiful than is allowed, I'm sure." At this, she laughed and he said, "Sorry, my thoughts are becoming discombobulated in my head. They sound perfect in my brain, but they're coming out disjointed and confused in real life, so just stick with me. I'm almost done."
She nodded.
"You leave nothing to the imagination. You lay it all before me, I see it clearly, and most importantly, you give me the audacity just to stand here and proclaim my love for you. This is something real, and this is something tangible, this will last forever."
"Because I will love you forever. I will love you for your unbridled beauty, your unending, giving heart, your courage, and finally, for your truthfulness. I will work hard every day of my life to emulate all of those traits, so that I'm worthy enough for you, because after all, if you think I am good enough for you, who am I to dispute those claims?"
She kissed his lips and said, "I like that. Those were good vows. I've always wanted someone to tell me I had unbridled beauty."
He puckered his face for a moment and said, "Are you having a laugh at my expense, Hermione Granger? Do not tell me I laid my soul and heart bear to you, placed them on an altar at your feet, only to have you have a laugh at me. What's next? Are you going to stomp all over them, too?"
"It was only a small laugh, I swear," she said. "Remember, this is truthful Hermione now."
"Let's hear your vows, if you're so great," he said, smirking, his hands now on her shoulders.
She cleared her throat, took his hands from her arms, and held them tightly in her own. Hermione said, "I feel as if I've lived a whole lifetime in this one night. We have wasted so much time with lies and deceit, and now that I see my own mind clearly, and I know you feel the same, I'm almost confused as to how to carry on and continue."
"We've lived so long in the splendor of what was love, without really basking in the true glory of it. Our love was quiet inside us, and we forgot about it, somehow, in the midst of trying to do what we thought we should do, instead of doing what we ought to do."
She stepped back, but kept his hands. She said, "You make me so happy, every time you're near and smile at me. You lift me up when I'm sad, alone, scared, or crying. You fill me with love that I hope will never end. After all, even married people have fears that it will end. Marriage won't make love last. That has to come from within here," she placed one hand on his heart, "and here," then she placed the same hand on her own.
"Everything you do is for me and me alone, and I never knew how wonderful that could be. That's what I wanted all along. That's what I envied about married people. You know what's in my heart before I ask things. I never need a reason to be with you. I want to feel your gentleness and love next to me all of my days."
"Every time you touch me tenderly, it moves me in ways unimaginable in the past. A word, a caress, a touch to the cheek, these actions prove to me that you will always be with me. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that. I love you."
He was filled with a strange emotion. It had to be more than just love, because he had felt love for her almost since New Year's Eve, so many months before. He almost felt slightly nauseated, and he smiled. "I think I feel slightly sick from all the sugary words we've just passed back and forth."
He smiled to show he was slightly joking, and she shook her head and said, "Draco Malfoy, what a nice thing to say."
"Listen, Hermione," he began, "let's just get to the, 'Until death do we part,' part, and then we can have our pseudo honeymoon in the silly little tent, agreed?"
"You have to put the tent up this time," she said.
"Talk about romantic words," he uttered. He leaned down and kissed her. They kissed for a long time. They stayed wrapped in each other's embrace, kissing and holding each other. He finally backed away.
"Where is the bloody tent?" he asked. He turned to the bundle on the ground. He started to unfold it and she stood back and watched. She would let him take care of this. She wanted him to take care of her for the rest of her life.
When the tent was up, he took her hand and they went inside. The whole place was washed in soft light. There were pillows all around. She gave him a crooked smile and said, "Your transfiguration is up to snuff, I see."
"I try," he gloated.
He took her hand and led her to the middle of the tent.
Before she could say another word, and ruin anything, he decided it was time to kiss her. He dipped his head again, as he had so many times before, and he kissed her with a sweet, endearing passion, which needed no spoke words, because it was all action.
She brought her hands up to his hair as his tongue mingled with hers. She felt this kiss all the way to her toes. Now that she was truthful to him, passion took on a new meaning. No longer afraid, or devoid of truthfulness, she now felt his love and passion beyond her mere body, but deep in her soul and it was glorious, to say the least.
Somehow, they undressed. Somehow, they ended up on the mass of pillows. Somehow, he closed his eyes as she let her hands skim his entire body, taking in every inch, and his muscles tightened and his jaw clenched and his resolve melted.
She was his wife in so many ways, and as long as he knew it, that was all that mattered.
He pulled her over to him and savored every part of her body, which he now felt, in some odd way, truly belonged to him as well as her. He wondered if she would mind. He smiled and looked up from her breasts and she said, "What?"
"You're mine," he said with a grin.
"Really?"
"Most certainly," he answered. He placed his cheek back to her breasts, but stopped kissing her long enough to listen to her heartbeat. He lifted his head and she cupped his cheek. "It's the truth, you're mine, and there's nothing you can do about it now. You proclaimed it to me, and I have a long memory."
"Does that mean you belong to me, too?" she asked.
"You will be the judge of that," he said with a small laugh. "You might find that you don't want me."
"I'll always want you," she declared. Hermione reached down between their bodies and grasped his erection in the most intimate way. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes and she said, "I think you belong to me."
He said something unintelligible and then pushed her back to her back, and ran his cheek against her chest, before bringing his face back to her mouth to kiss her again. This kiss was different, this kiss was all fire and molten lava and it set them both on fire. This kiss was their undoing. Though the pressure was no different from any other kiss, the intent was different.
Truthfulness equaled passion, and a tide of desire roared through the small tent, making them both tremble until they found their release. They were perfect for each other in everyway, if only in their constant imperfections.
The fact that she finally admitted to her second thoughts, and allowed him to admit to his, seemed to settle things between them, and with all doubt and lies evaporated, nothing was left but love and passion.
Tongues touching tongues. Mouths flowing over exposed skin. Scents mingling with each other, hers flowery and wanton at the same time, invading each of his five senses. His masculine and ardor embodied, searing itself into her brain.
Hermione was having trouble breathing, and each torturous touch affected her well-being. Soft skin, hard muscles, bones melting, mouths crushing…soon they both dissolved into a puddle in the middle of the tent, lost in the afterglow…and the desire was all that remained.
She finally sighed, her head on his chest. "That was nice."
"Bah," he said. "Nice? It was bloody fab, and you know it, Hermione Granger."
"Well, it's apparent that you've been practicing," she said.
"True, I have been, a bit," he said. He propped himself up on his elbow and shifted so that his arm and one leg was over her body. Something shifted suddenly in their relationship, something more than the truth, and their earlier passion. It was contentment. He was no longer afraid. He no longer had doubts.
He said, "We wasted time for so long. We should have been truthful in the beginning."
"Let's start over," she said. "Let's imagine it's New Year's Eve, and you see me at Lavender and Mike's party. Go."
"Go?" he asked, amused.
"What would you say to me that's different this time?" she asked.
"Would you still have made the marriage comment from before?" he asked.
"No, let's say instead of telling everyone I was going to marry you someday; let's say that I told everyone that I was going to rape you on the floor of a tent someday."
"Rape? That was consensual, my darling," he said. "Fine, let's pretend you told everyone you thought I was the most dashing, handsome man in the world, and you wanted to make me yours."
"Make you mine?" Now she propped up on her elbow. "That doesn't sound like something I would say."
He grimaced and said, "Oh and telling everyone that I was going to be your future husband someday, before we even dated, was so in character for you? That was the most un-Hermione Granger thing I have ever heard."
"Shut up," she said, slapping his arm.
"So, for the sake of our reenactment, you told everyone you thought I was ultra suave, and you wanted to shag me, okay?" he asked.
"Fine," she said, laughing. She said, "What would you have said to me at the New Year's Eve party? What would have been different?"
He really thought for a moment and then said, "You know, I don't really think I would change a thing. I think all roads led us to where we are now, so I really wouldn't change a thing."
"The hot wax incident?" she asked.
"I rather liked that," he said. "It gave me an early peek at your nice little body."
"When I flooded your bathroom?" she asked.
"Needed to be done, in my opinion," he said. "It gave you an early little peek at my nice big body."
She grinned. "Meeting the parents?" she asked.
He got a solemn look on his face and fell back on the pillows. "Damn, Hermione, what are we going to tell our parents?" he asked her back. He placed his arm over his eyes.
She frowned. She hadn't thought that far ahead. She hadn't planned any of this. It was all spur of the moment, just as everything had been since they first started seeing each other. She pulled his shirt over her shoulders and sat up. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them.
"Your parents will be pleased," she said. She turned to look at the side of the tent.
He sat beside her, pulling a pillow over his lap. He pulled her into his arms and said, "We've proven to ourselves how adapt we are at lying, so why not keep it up. We just go back there tonight, and tell everyone that the deeds done. We eloped. In a way, I feel like we did."
"I can't finally find the truth only to cover it back up with lies, Draco Malfoy. I won't do that to our families and friends. I'm sorry enough that I did it to you all those months. Think of something else."
"I'm out of ideas," he said.
"You only thought of one, and you're out of ideas?" she asked with mocked annoyance. Hermione placed her cheek on his shoulder. "We have to tell them the truth, no matter what. No more lies."
"Ever?" he joked. "I will have to retrain my brain." He stroked her hair and said, "It will be okay. They can handle the truth. We'll invite them all to our house in the morning, and tell them together. Get it all over with in one felled swipe."
"My parents won't understand. They're such traditionalist," she said. "They believe in the sanctity of marriage. They won't approve. They also won't believe that the commitment we just made to each other is as strong of a commitment if we had made it in a church in front of everyone." She wanted to cry.
He didn't know what to say to help her. He really didn't. Instead, he pulled her to him, and made love to her again, because after all, it was their life to live, and it was up to them to live it the way they saw fit.
When the morning came, too soon, and too bright, Draco woke up to find his arms empty. He sat up suddenly; slightly afraid that last night was a dream. He found his pants, slipped them on, and climbed out of the tent. He couldn't help the feeling of foreboding that loomed over him. If she weren't outside, he would find her and hex her arse good.
He found her outside, in her rumpled dress, sitting by the water's edge. He was afraid to approach her at first, knowing that she was probably sad and contemplative, worrying about what was facing them.
He walked up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. When she turned to look up at him, instead of seeing the sad, doubtful, pensive, worried Hermione he was used to seeing as of late, he saw a genuine, true smile grace her beautiful face. She stood up quickly, hugged him tightly and said, "Good morning, my love. It's the first day of the rest of our lives."
He smiled, because he liked that sentiment. This wasn't the end. It was the beginning. He held her as he watched the reflection of the sunrise on the rippling water. Yes, he liked that sentiment very much, almost as much as he liked her.
She didn't care what anyone else thought. She was proud of their journey and where they ended it, and she didn't need anyone's approval, and neither did he.
Coming up:
An epilogue and that is all. Thanks.