Author's Note:
Look y'all! Not a three month hiatus again!
Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming back to this story. It means the world to me. Each kudos or comment makes me smile and gives me the motivation to keep writing this story, so truly, thank you.
Another huge thank you to LightofEvolution, my queen through all this!
Hope you enjoy this next chapter, though 'enjoy' may not be the right word...
This wasn't what Draco had in mind when he had requested they spend one final night together, but after the mess his pride had gotten them into, who was Draco to deny Hermione of what she wanted?
The marriage contract drifted mid-space for both her and him to review. For nearly an hour, they had been dissecting every sentence, analysing each word, unpacking all aspects of the document. He would have rather been doing literally anything else, but he also understood that Hermione's analytical brain wouldn't have been able to enjoy their last few hours together until she had properly studied its contents.
Problem was, neither of them was feeling any better. The clean, precise wording was meticulously fashioned, leaving no room for interpretation. And to make matters even worse, the voice that boomed in Draco's mind as he read those definitive words was the antagonistic sneer of his father.
"This is bad, Draco," Hermione lowly whispered beside him.
"I am fully aware."
"Your father seemed to consider everything when crafting this."
Draco grimaced. "I refuse to believe that."
"I do as well," she returned with a sigh. "But the wording here is very clear. 'All parties shall withhold to the terms of this agreement directly upon signing, and the terms will remain in effect until the passing of one member of the union.' That doesn't leave much room for a loophole."
A brief, semi-sincere smile cracked Draco's lips. "Ah, see, that's where you're wrong. That exactly is our loophole."
Hermione shot him a sidelong glare. "We're not killing her, Draco."
"Yet."
"Draco!"
"I'm just saying, come day fifty-nine…"
"Draco."
She canted her head all the more disapprovingly, and Draco threw his hands up in mock defence, a few chuckles involuntarily escaping in the process.
"Only kidding."
"It's not funny," she remarked, yet the faint upper curl of her lip indicated otherwise. "Next thing I know, you'll tell me we should Romeo and Juliet it."
"Romeo and who?"
Hermione's feeble snicker did little to break the heaviness that still loomed overhead.
"This is precisely why you can't get married to someone else," she said, eyes glossing over despite her attempt to sound lighthearted. "There's still so much Muggle literature I have to introduce you to."
They tried to hold each other's gaze, but Hermione didn't last long. She tore herself away, eyes clamping closed, and turned her back to Draco, sucking in a lung-filling breath. Within seconds, the choked sounds of her tears filled the small space of Andromeda's guest bedroom.
Draco wasted no time rushing to wrap her in his comforting embrace. The dampness of her tears soaked into his shirt as Hermione pressed herself into him as deeply as she could manage. He longed to lift her chin and press a reassuring kiss to her lips, the promise that he was and always would be there for her, but as the contract so kindly stipulated, that wasn't an option.
Glum agony plucked away at Draco's heartstrings. He had done this to them. His naive, unfounded trust in his father after weeks of inaction despite the obvious warning signs. And soon he wouldn't even be able to hold her when sorrow inevitably threatened to overtake her.
"Please forgive me." His words were a soft, strangled plea. "I should have done something weeks ago. And I'll live every day regretting that until we get this resolved."
Blotches of redness scattered across Hermione's cheeks as she lifted her head and swiped away the moisture beneath her bloodshot eyes.
"I know you were hoping to find something tonight, but it's time to put the contract away," Draco said, brushing his thumb over her cheek to catch one of the lingering tears that she had missed. "We've had more than enough for one night."
Nodding her acceptance, Hermione sniffed back the last few traces of remorse and followed Draco into the bed where they curled into one another. Draco pressed a soft kiss into her hair before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tighter towards his chest. It wasn't much, but it was about the most they could do.
Draco's eyelids drifted closed, trying to focus on the simple things. On Hermione's slow and steady breathing. The floral scent of her hair. The small dip of her waist as he trailed his fingertips over the fabric of her robes.
What he'd now give to go back and listen to Hermione the first time she told him to move out — even before anything deeper had truly developed between them. Or at least done something more drastic when his father had threatened to sign the contract without his consent. Draco knew then how much he cared for Hermione. It had been pure vanity in wanting to have a dramatic departure that had caused this for her. For them.
Disappointment with himself settled deeper in his bones as he thought back to their conversation with Andromeda. If only he had come to her earlier instead of insisting on doing everything himself. Though, even if he had, he wasn't sure what more she could have done to help. After all, she had ended up disowned, the same as him. The only way she had avoided having her heart signed away had been by running off with Ted before her parents had the chance.
A sinking question now consumed him.
His vocal cords felt like ash as he tried to assemble the words that laid heavy on his tongue. But he needed to know.
"Would you have done it?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. Yet the rest of the question died before he could push it past his lips.
Hermione's eyebrows were scrunched as she peered over her shoulder to look up at him. "Would I have done what?"
Draco thickly swallowed, nervous to know her answer. But he had to know if that would have even been an option for them.
"Would you have eloped with me?"
A cloud of suffocating silence filled the bedroom. In his arms, Hermione didn't move.
"If… if we knew that was our only option, of course," Draco added when she still hadn't answered.
It was several more excruciating moments before Hermione finally spoke up. "We only kissed a week ago."
"I know," Draco croaked, relieved he didn't have to see her face as something seemed to shatter inside of him. "But knowing what we know now…"
His heart thundered, and Draco had to remind himself to breathe while he awaited her response. Finally, it came.
"I would have had to think about it."
The answer stung more than it should have. Not that Draco could blame her. Feelings aside, it would have been asking too much. After all, he was the one with significantly more to lose in this situation. But the more he considered the question, the more confident Draco became of his own answer.
He would have.
His hand shifted until it found the familiar lacing between her fingers, like two pieces that instinctively fell into place. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"I assume you know I expect you to owl every day," Draco said, moving past the mild disappointment that lingered in his chest. "And no excuses about being busy at work. Something has to make your day brighter if I'm not physically there to drag you to lunch."
Hermione weakly chuckled. "I promise. Every single da—"
The rest of the thought trailed away as a massive yawn interrupted her. It was late. And while it felt impossible to believe that their evening at the Manor had only been the day prior, Draco also knew she hadn't gotten much sleep that night either.
He settled another kiss atop her curls. "Go to sleep. You're tired."
"I don't want to."
"Me neither."
Draco fought slumber as long as possible, relishing every last breath he had with her within his arms, until sleep finally won and he drifted off into the mindless night.
...
Saying goodbye would have been impossible.
The mere notion of having to assemble a coherent thought while stinging emptiness weighed on Hermione was utterly unfathomable. Words so rarely failed her, but today was one of the exceptions.
What more could they say that hadn't already been expressed? How many more tears must be shed before their souls had suffered enough?
It was better to leave before he awoke. Let his last waking memory with her be them falling asleep in each other's arms, not another instance of them succumbing to heartache.
Hermione faintly smiled to herself as she peered down at Draco still fast asleep. He looked so peaceful. Eyelids rested shut. Pale hair splayed across the pillow. Subtle grin quirking up his lips, even in his state of unconsciousness.
In the contented stillness, Hermione could almost make herself believe that they were a normal couple, waking up beside the person they cared about. But they seemed fated to never have anything so easy. What even were she and Draco? Could they call themselves a couple now that the contract was in effect?
She had told Draco that he could consider himself her boyfriend once he had informed his parents that he wanted no part of their marriage contract business, and he had upheld that part of the agreement. Yet how could she call him that when she couldn't even kiss him goodbye?
Hermione brushed her fingers through a few low hanging strands of blond hair, heart seizing at the simple movement. Merlin, how much she didn't want to leave him. But she had to. She had obligations outside of them that were equally important to her. For the betterment of future generations of witches and wizards.
With one final look over, Hermione memorised every last inch of the man she so desperately didn't want to lose. She pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek before heading downstairs for Andromeda to lower the wards for her to Disapparate. It may still be the weekend, but it was time for her to get to work.
Andromeda had fortunately been able to provide her with the location. The close-knittedness of the pureblood community had some advantages. She didn't know the wizard well — in fact, her conversation with him the other weekend was probably the only time she had ever actually spoken with him — but if Draco trusted him, she trusted him. Which was how Hermione had ended up in front of a new set of gilded gates that impeded her from entering yet another unnecessarily large manor.
With forcibly pressed together lips, she reserved comment about the house-elf that led her inside. That was a battle for another day. Today she needed help, not more enemies.
"Master has a guest!" the little house elf announced, but when the dark-haired wizard hurried into the entry, his expression immediately sunk.
"Where's Draco?"
Hermione sucked in a sharp inhale. "We have a problem."
Theo Nott closed the remaining space between them, a hard frown pulling down his features. "I surmised as much when he didn't show up here last night. And the owl I tried to send this morning just returned this."
Reaching into his pocket, Theo retrieved a scroll of parchment and handed it to Hermione. It was a note. For Draco.
"It came back undelivered," Theo further explained, traces of similar worriment that had pained Hermione the night before now weighing on him. "Is he… Do you know what happened?"
Hermione harshly swallowed before scarcely nodding her head. "He came to me right after speaking with his parents."
Mild relief seemed to relax Theo's rigid composure. "So he made it out of there alive at least," he said, the remark only half-heartedly kidding. "I assume this means he held up his promise and finally told them he won't sign a contract?"
She once more nodded, but the gloominess in Hermione's heart made it difficult to feel much joy in the fact that Draco had finally taken such an important step towards his independence. Especially when it was so short-lived.
"Then what happened? Why are you here instead of him?"
Hermione briefly closed her eyes, the reality of the situation still sore. But the time for being sad was over. What was done was done. There were no time turners here to correct the past; their only option was to move forward. And to do that, Theo had to know.
"His father signed a contract first."
Stunned silence rippled through Theo before he snapped out of it and dove into a dozen subsequent questions. Apparently, Draco hadn't mentioned anything to him about Lucius' intention to use his power as patriarch to control his son like a choiceless puppet. All Draco had said was that he needed a place to stay once he had broken the news to his parents and moved out of Malfoy Manor. But once the initial shock had begun to dissipate and the gravity of Draco's forced commitment to someone else sunk in, Theo was ready to spring into action.
"Alright, Brightest Witch of Our Age. So where do we start?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at his taunting use of the nickname she truly abhorred. She supposed she would just have to grow accustomed to his jokes if they were going to be working together on this.
"Show me your family library," she said, already feeling more like herself now that a plan was setting into motion. "We need to learn everything we can about pureblood marriage contracts."
Dozens of tomes laid spread out across a table in the middle of Nott Manor's library. The Right and Proper Way by Farilus Flint. Promises and Pacts by Rylen Avery. Lifelong Bonds by Silo Selwyn. All of them were written by members of pureblood families and all pertained to pureblood marriages or magical oaths, and yet not a single one mentioned anything about the magic behind marriage contracts.
Hermione slammed shut another unhelpful book. "How is it that there is nothing useful in a single one of these?" she lamented. "It's not like the magic came from nowhere!"
"I can't say I'm surprised. Purebloods have always had a tendency of keeping the details of their sacred traditions on the quiet side," Theo explained, voicing a similar sentiment about pureblood secrecy as Draco had the night before. "Anything put in writing could be potential ammunition against pureblood traditions if the Ministry ever decided to actually do something about it."
Theo leaned back in his chair as he continued, "For generations, the Ministry has turned a blind eye to a lot of things pureblood families have done that may be considered antiquated or even unjust. It's not as though resentment towards Muggle-borns suddenly started when Voldemort showed up. It's been present for centuries. But with so many pureblood families using their money and power to influence Ministry officials, they've gotten away with things they otherwise wouldn't have."
"It shouldn't work like that," Hermione said with a huff. "Ministry officials are supposed to represent the entire Wizarding population. Not just the ones with money."
"I'm not disagreeing," Theo quickly defended. "I'm just telling you how it's been. How do you think people like Lucius Malfoy and my father avoided Azkaban the first time around? People knew they were Death Eaters. But bribes and connections to the right people can go a long way. So they remained free men."
"At least your father's locked in there now," Hermione grumbled below her breath.
"Trust me, I whole-heartedly agree," Theo returned. "And for Draco's sake, I wish his father had been sentenced to the same fate. But the Malfoys were always one of the most powerful pureblood families, and it certainly helped their case that Narcissa's lie ended up saving the war. So Lucius Malfoy gets to continue his life as though he did nothing wrong."
It made Hermione sick. Lucius Malfoy had done many terrible things, even outside his Death Eater alliances. He was the one responsible for the Chamber of Secrets being re-opened, not to mention his terrible treatment of Dobby and countless other house elves. His demeaning treatment of Draco was merely the most recent cruel act in a long string of ill-intended actions. And yet he had paid minimal consequences for most of them.
"There has to be a way for us to learn something about these contracts," Hermione insisted. "These patriarchs are still enacting the magic, so the answers are out there somewhere."
"I know," Theo said, "but I must warn you that even if we do discover something, it won't necessarily work for Draco's situation."
"Why not?"
"Each pureblood family has slightly different rituals, so what works for a Nott family contract won't necessarily work for a Malfoy family one."
"Different rituals?" Hermione asked. "What other kinds of rituals are there?"
"Whole bunch," Theo answered. "The most ancient families have maintained some of the spells their family created from before the establishment of Hogwarts. Or some are just embedded in the magic of their homes." He now smiled. "Like the Queen of the Night flower."
Hermione tilted her head in curiosity, and Theo easily kept talking.
"In the Nott Manor gardens is a rare patch of Queen of the Night flowers that only bloom for a single night each year. Family lore says that if the Nott male clips one at full bloom and presents it to a witch and she accepts, it creates a magical bond between them that's everlasting."
"And you believe that?"
Theo shrugged, a grin creeping up his cheeks. "Guess I won't know for sure until I try it for myself. The flowers aren't supposed to bloom until some time between July and October, so I still have time to decide."
Hermione quickly pieced together whom he was considering offering the flower to. "Astoria?"
Theo's grin widened. "Draco told you about us?"
"He mentioned it," she said, remembering Draco's remark about them the other evening. "He said you two chose each other all on your own."
Pride seemed to swell in Theo as he said, "That we did."
At his comment, the sullenness in Hermione's heart promptly returned. Draco had also made his choice all on his own. Only his choice had been ignored.
Theo appeared to catch on to her change in mood.
"You and Draco will figure it out," he tried to assure her. "Between your brains and his stubbornness, there's no way you won't find a way out of this thing."
Hermione forced a smile. "I know we will."
...
Her feet poorly landed on the front stoop of her office building before Hermione rushed inside and ran up the steps. In her determination to end the day finding at least one thing helpful, Hermione had stayed up halfway through the night reading the books Theo had let her take home. Yet once again, she had found nothing but vague ramblings and insufficient details — a disappointment made all the worse now that her fruitless research had made her late for work.
"Morning!" Hermione hurriedly greeted Gretchen as she hastened past her assistant and into her office. Half-past nine and she was already behind schedule!
She blew her more-untamed-than-usual curls out from her eyes and plopped her bag beside her desk before straightening out the askew skirt underneath her robes. Her mind was a cluttered mess as she tried to push aside the drama of the weekend and sift through what she needed to tend to now that she was back in the workplace.
Work. Her job. Yes, it was time to focus on that.
Footsteps entered through the doorway, but they stopped several paces away. Hermione glanced up from the stack of parchments she had been refamiliarising herself with, thankful to see Gretchen waiting with the schedule for the day tucked beneath her arm and a cup of hot coffee in her hands.
"You are a godsend," she said to the woman as she manoeuvred around her desk and accepted the still-steaming drink.
For a few brief seconds, her mind shut off as she took several long sips, in dire need of something to help get her morning back on track. She imagined this would be far from her only cup of the day.
Setting down the drink, Hermione returned to her chair and swiped the visible tiredness from her eyes.
"Alright, then," she said to Gretchen, mentally preparing herself to take on the day. "What's on my schedule?"
But when Hermione looked up to address Gretchen properly, she realised that the parchment lodged beneath her limb was much too thick to be just her daily schedule. It was several parchments all together, creased at the bottom from where they were folded in half.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" Gretchen tentatively asked, ignoring the fact that Hermione had asked a question first.
"I'm fine," she asserted, perhaps too forcibly. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night."
But Gretchen didn't raise her typical disbelieving eyebrow nor was there a single trace of taunting scepticism. And somehow, that was even more disconcerting.
"Is there something you'd like to add?" Hermione pressed, but her attention was promptly pulled elsewhere when she caught sight of a familiar face below a header of blocked black letters and a single golden 'P.'
Gretchen failed to keep a tight enough hold to prevent the copy of the Daily Prophet from wriggling free and responding to Hermione's Summoning Charm. A few seconds was all it took for the newspaper to land on her desk and flatten itself out. And only a few more seconds after that for Hermione's entire morning to crumble into greater ruin.
For there, on the front page, was a photo of Draco, alongside a separate photo of a beautiful witch Hermione didn't need to read the caption to know who it was.
Her heart sunk even deeper when she read the headline.
DRACO MALFOY UP FOR GRABS NO MORE!
Hermione couldn't bring herself to read the article. No doubt this was his parents' doing. Draco's consent or not, they clearly intended to proceed with the impending nuptials as planned. Why wait to announce the promise of their son to a respected pureblood when they could start benefiting from the publicity now?
Yet seeing it plastered for the entire Wizarding world hurt more than Hermione could have anticipated, made all the worst by seeing how pretty Aimée was. With long golden hair and dazzling eyes, she was precisely the type of witch who would look good on his arm at all the proper pureblood functions.
Gretchen stood frozen on the opposite side of Hermione's desk.
"I… I know you don't like my prying, ma'am, but I thought… you and Mr Malfoy…"
Hermione swallowed the thickness lumping in her throat, a numbing haze seeming to wash over her as she forced out the words she didn't want to say. "I told you he wasn't my boyfriend."
But Hermione knew there was no fooling Gretchen. The woman had figured out her and Draco when they had still been fooling themselves.
"Ma'am—"
Her words were soft, but Hermione was in no mood for sympathy, pity, or whatever else Gretchen intended to offer.
"I really ought to get to work," Hermione interrupted before anything more on the subject could be said. "If you'll just leave my schedule for the day, I'll review it myself, and—"
"Ma'am…"
"Please."
The crack in her voice expressed everything her words did not.
Eyes soft, Gretchen gently dropped Hermione's schedule on the desk before backing away. "Whatever you need."
When the door clicked closed, Hermione blinked back the forming tears and resumed shuffling through her paperwork. But it seemed that the powers that be were determined to prevent that from happening.
In a corner laid the series of lessons that Draco had drafted Friday evening — the ones he had promised he'd come to finish before they had lunch together today.
Taking them into her hands, Hermione brushed her fingertips over his script handwriting, a faint smile twitching up her lips at the memory of how hard he had worked on them. She set the parchments down and scanned the rest of her office. The lessons were just one of the many reminders of him in the space. The stack of books they had picked up at the Muggle library. The peacock feather quill. The bouquet of white roses. Traces of him were everywhere.
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy could do their best, but they couldn't take those things away from her. And they wouldn't take away her and Draco either.
With the casting of an Everlasting Charm, the white roses sprung back to their original brilliance. The sharp sting in her heart remained, but the vision of the renewed flowers made the sorrow start to fade. It was like a piece of Draco was right there with her.
Yet the most significant piece laid carefully tucked beneath her robes, hidden from everyone else's knowledge but her own. Pulling out the silver chain she had strung it on, Hermione clamped her hand around the Malfoy crest ring he had given her as one of his final acts of defiance towards his familial expectations — the reminder of his devotion to her, and now, her devotion to him.
Loosening her grip, Hermione returned the ring to its new home just above her heart, her mind never too far from thinking about him as she set to work.
