Cover And Alpha-Read By Subdivide, Beta-Read By MasterChaos1
This one-shot is dedicated to my wonderful alpha and best friend, Aani
Thank you so much for everything you've done for me this past year! You're an amazing person who has made my life much better, and I honestly can't imagine it without you. I love you.
Now read on as I butcher the genre you love in my attempt to write you a gift, heavily inspired by Pride and Prejudice.
Happy birthday, you annoying, wonderful person!
"To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love"
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice - Chapter III
Breakfast at the Granger residence never failed to be a lively affair. And how could it not be? Mrs Granger was a high-spirited person whose passion in life seemed to be spreading the gossip throughout the whole town. And there was no better way to start the day than to partake in it.
Her husband, Mr Granger, and her eldest daughter, Hermione, rarely amused her by engaging in her gossip, mostly quietly listening and making the occasional remark to tease her. However, her second daughter, Emily, was always keen on participating in the conversations with her mother, listening intently and sharing her piece of gossip that Mrs Granger hadn't had the privilege of knowing about yet.
Mrs Granger's meaning in life, which seemed to coincidentally line up with her grandest passion, was finding a good husband for her two daughters, much to Hermione's chagrin. Ever since they had been of age, Mrs Granger had, not so subtly in Hermione's humble opinion, encouraged them to find a respectable husband, often pointing out all the handsome officers that they would see around the town. Not only that, but after the regular Winchester balls they attended, she incessantly talked about all the honourable men there and how fine husbands they would make.
Which is why it was no surprise to Hermione that her sister and mother were currently engaged in a conversation about Mr Longbottom.
The Granger sisters had originally met Mr Longbottom around nine months ago when he came from Steventon and started residing in Nott Hall. The Notts were the richest family in Winchester, besides the Malfoys, and had been acquaintances of the Grangers for a couple of years now. However, as Mr Nott and Mr Malfoy started courting Daphne Greengrass and Lavender Brown respectively, who had been intimate friends with the Grangers for years now, the Granger sisters had grown an unexpected friendship with both families.
Once Mr Longbottom had arrived at Winchester, a ball was held in Malfoy Hall in which Emily had met Mr Longbottom. The two of them had become friendly with each other almost instantly and shared a total of three dances throughout the night. They had met in the balls that followed, with Mr Longbottom never failing in asking her if she would give him the honour of sharing the first dance with him. After various balls and unexpected meetings around the town, their courtship began and had been a strong one at that.
"Well, Emily? When will you see him next?"
"Mother, I visited him two days ago in Nott Hall," Emily laughed. "Surely a few more days are needed before our next encounter."
"Why don't you simply take residence with him?" Mr Granger said as he finished with his toast. "Surely, it would do some good to your poor mother's nerves."
Hermione was forced to stifle a laugh as Mrs Granger turned towards her husband.
"Oh, you tease me, Mr Granger, but one of these days, my nerves will be the end of me. Who are you to blame when that happens?"
"Surely yourself," He took a sip of his tea. "I have yet to meet someone with as deadly nerves as yours."
"Only a mother with as much care for her daughters as I do would have nerves like me! I am simply trying to make sure that they have proper husbands that maintain them before you and I are dead, Mr Granger."
Mrs Granger was interrupted when a servant delivered a letter to Emily, the recognizable scrawl of Mr Longbottom clear for all Grangers to see.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" Mrs Granger exclaimed brightly as Emily began reading the letter. "I just knew it, Mr Longbottom must be missing you already! That man will make such a proper husband to you one day, Emily, you'll see."
Hermione and Mr Granger exchanged a knowing glance between them.
"Well, dear, what does it say?"
"A ball?" The delivery was flat, concealing the inner turmoil behind it.
"I did not realise you developed hearing problems in the years since we have seen each other, Potter."
Harry closed his book, slightly louder than he should have, and turned towards his best friend.
"It is you who has hearing problems, Malfoy, I do remember telling you, repeatedly, in the past, that I dislike balls and events as the such."
"Selective hearing for your own good, Potter; not hearing problems."
Almost concealed laughs drew Harry's attention to the other two parties in the room.
"I would be wrong to assume that either of you had a part in this scheme, would I?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Completely," Longbottom grinned.
"A wrong assessment, indeed," Nott smirked.
Harry avoided the urge to massage his temples before turning back towards Malfoy. "As honoured as I am for you to organise a ball in celebration of my arrival here at Winchester, I am afraid I have to decline."
"And I am afraid that is simply not possible," Malfoy drank a sip of his red wine before settling the glass on the table beside him. "Invitations have been sent out since before your arrival earlier today, everyone will be expecting your presence there."
Harry glared at Malfoy's shamelessness.
"It is for your own good, Potter." Malfoy's teasing tone was gone. "I know for a fact that you have yet to properly court a woman ever since Miss Bones!"
"Has my father been giving you lessons? Or was it my mother?"
"Neither," An easy smile spread across his face. "However, since I have agreed to be your host for an indeterminate amount of time, I believe that I should make it my duty that you find a suitable wife as soon as possible so as to free Malfoy Hall from your presence."
"I could return to Steventon, if it pleases you." Harry challenged.
"And return to your parents? We both know that you would turn to an officer before doing so."
Harry once again glared at Malfoy, not that it had any effect on his mirthful expression.
"Now, as your host, it is my duty to inform you that you are to attend every single ball that we take part in," Harry's eyes widened slightly, not that it stopped Malfoy. "If you do not, I am afraid you shall have to find a different place to reside in during your stay here at Winchester."
Harry stared Malfoy down for a couple of moments before he finally relented. He disliked balls, incredibly, it was hard not to after what happened, but he supposed it would not be entirely disagreeable with him to attend them every once in a while.
"As you wish," Harry stood up, book in hand. "But I will not dance."
Harry let out a discontented sigh as he stared at his friends dancing with their companions.
The night had started out pleasantly enough, he was immediately introduced to his friends' respective partners. Miss Brown was an animated creature, greeting him fondly and speaking of the honour it was to finally meet him - apparently, he was already quite famous around Winchester due to his friends. Harry had greeted her cordially and quietly thought how her enthusiastic character was a good foil for Malfoy's usually suave and snarky nature.
Miss Greengrass was the complete opposite of Miss Brown. She seemed to be a reserved person, not speaking often and when she did, doing so deliberately. However, there was an intensity in her eyes that showed her true character behind them, and her connection with Theo was loud for everyone to hear, even when they were the most silent out of the three couples.
Finally, he met Miss Emily Granger. While not as enthusiastic and exuberant as Miss Brown, she was a conversationalist to be sure, and very clearly as smitten with Longbottom as he was with her. However, the creature that caught his attention was her sister, Miss Hermione Granger, who was, in his opinion, the most bewitching woman in the room. While tremendously like her sister in appearance, it was her eyes that made a complete difference for him, there was such vigour, passion, and cleverness in them unlike any he'd ever seen. There was a true unique beauty behind those chocolate eyes that lit up the room.
He was getting acquainted with the small group, watching in silence as they revealed their dynamics and spoke of their character as they discussed indifferent matters until the three couples set out to dance, leaving him alone with Miss Granger. She had glanced at him slightly, expectation behind those striking eyes, however, he did not rise up to them. Instead, there was an extended silence that left him wondering when the room had got so warm.
The silence was broken when a man, who Harry learnt was called Mr Corner, strode up to Miss Granger, immediately asking her if she would give him the honour of being his first dance of the evening, to which she gracefully accepted.
Not having the privilege of being acquainted with anyone else in the room, Harry could do nothing more than make his way around the room, observing everyone else as they laughed and danced. Time seemed to go by at a deliberately unhurried pace, almost mockingly, as Harry waited for the ball to end and for him to go back to Malfoy Hall.
"Where is the lovely Miss Granger?" Malfoy teased as he and the others walked towards him, breaking him out of his stupor.
The only sign of his glower was in his eyes, much to the amusement of his friend.
"I believe she is currently making her acquaintances with Mr Corner's friend," he answered flatly, looking anywhere but in her direction.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at that.
"Come, Potter, that's enough of you standing stupidly about yourself. You must dance. There are plenty of pleasant and lovely girls around here who would love to make your acquaintance."
"None of them handsome enough to tempt me," He said with a tight smile, hoping Malfoy would stop his insistence.
He did not.
"What about one dance with the lovely Miss Brown? I am in need of rest, and I am sure she would like to share a dance with you."
Miss Brown smiled at him eagerly and Harry wondered why he ever left Steventon in the first place.
"Of course," Was the only acceptable answer he could give.
Soon after that, the dance had started, but not before Harry noticed Miss Granger's eyes intently on him. As soon as the dance had begun, Miss Brown had started talking vivaciously, to which Harry acknowledged with short replies and silence.
"Have you been to many balls, Mr Potter?"
"Not recently."
"You are a very good dancer for someone who hasn't been to balls recently."
Silence.
"Do you often dance?"
"Not particularly."
"So you don't like it?"
"I do."
The dance carried on, and he could tell how she was getting increasingly annoyed with him - not that he could get himself to care much. As soon as the dance was over, they went back to the others, though Miss Granger was still with Mr Corner and his acquaintances, and continued their meaningless conversations.
Miss Brown didn't look at him again for the rest of the night.
"Did you see him all night? He looked aggrieved! Just stood there in a temper barely uttering a word!" Her sister cried out.
Hermione and her sister had gone to the Brown residence the afternoon after the ball for their regular tea. Hermione and Daphne watched in silence as Emily and Lavender gossiped about last night's event.
"I have absolutely no idea how Mr Malfoy is even friends with him! Or Mr Longbottom and Mr Nott for that matter! He might just be the most disagreeable man I have ever met."
"I most certainly agree, he may be handsome, but you would be pressed to find a person with fewer manners than himself. Did he even dance last night?"
"He danced with Lavender," Hermione pointed out, hating the indignant tone she had.
"Indeed he did, and he was certainly the worst dance partner I have had the displeasure of sharing a dance with! I would rather never dance again if it meant I would not have to share another dance with him."
"Was it really that horrible?" Hermione asked despite herself.
"He is a good dancer, I shall give him that, however, he has the most maddening character I have ever come across! It can not be described any other way than terribly rude. Him not asking you to dance was the greatest favour he could have granted you."
News of Winchester's newest resident had spread throughout the town before night had even fallen. Everyone knew about Mr Potter's bad-tempered character and lack of manners, how he thought himself above everyone else by not being willing to dance with the many women that attended the balls. Soon enough, no woman in the whole town thought of him as a suitable husband.
However, that didn't seem to deter Mr Potter at all, as he continued assisting every single ball, and always going through his same procedure. He would start the evening with his friends, Mr Malfoy, Mr Longbottom, and Mr Nott, before the three men started dancing and he would roam around the room with an ill-tempered look on his face, and occasionally joining his friends once more.
He never spoke. He never danced. He never laughed. He just stood quietly all night with the same look of disdain on his face. He never even tried making acquaintances with other people, and while Mr Malfoy had told them that Mr Potter was a completely different person behind closed doors and the best men he ever knew, Hermione couldn't bring herself to believe it, for his character spoke otherwise.
At every ball, she could not help but pay close attention to him, her eyes always seeking him. He was handsome, she had to grudgingly admit it even when she had tried to convince herself otherwise before, much more attractive than any of the other three men. His square face defined by a firm jawline under the stubble beard drew the eyes of many ladies in the room. His messily combed hair as dark as a starless night, contrasted by his bright green eyes under those round, silver-rimmed glasses, which were only accentuated by the slight tinge of green on his black coat. Those eyes were undoubtedly his most attractive feature in Hermione's opinion, for she had never seen such alluring emeralds in all her life.
She couldn't stand how she couldn't stop getting drawn to them.
As time went on and months had passed since Mr Potter had moved into Malfoy Hall, the two of them had spent quite some time together just the two of them - and the stretched silence that was always present. It always happened when the other couples started dancing, and she wondered when he would show even the simplest of manners and ask her for a dance, but it never came.
Mr Corner was always the one that broke this silence with his offers of dancing, to which Hermione always easily accepted, silently enjoying the way Potter's eyes lingered on her as she walked away with Mr Corner, vexation clear in his expression. Mr Corner and his friends, Mr Boot and Mr Goldstein along with Miss Davis and Miss Abbott, were nice enough company for the night and she certainly had a good time speaking with them, however, she was not sure if she would have spent all the time she did with them if she had not seen the obvious effect it had on Potter.
It wasn't until almost two months since the first ball where she had met him that she finally spoke to him.
"You are a quiet man, aren't you, Mr Potter?" She asked just a few moments after her friends left.
"One can learn a lot when he listens to others rather than focusing on his own thoughts."
"You must be very wise by now."
"Not as much as I would wish to be," He retorted and she turned towards him.
"And pray tell, whatever have you learnt in these past few months?"
"Nothing I did not know before," He answered without turning towards her, which only served to annoy her more - something she was sure he knew by the slight smile that threatened to cross his features.
"You don't like balls much, do you, Mr Potter?"
"Finally realised that, have you?" She did not know what it was about his tone that made her want to tear her hair out.
"As a matter of fact, I realised it ever since I met you. It was not exactly hard, you don't hide it very well. However, I am having some trouble figuring out why, surely it can not be because of the dancing, seeing as you seem to like watching people dance."
Hermione repressed a victorious smirk as Mr Potter turned and took a step closer towards her.
"I happen to really like dancing, Miss Granger. In fact, dancing, apart from literature, might just be one of the few things I love. I've done so ever since I can remember and the more I do it, the more I love it."
Hermione walked one step towards him and lifted her chin, gazing at those eyes that were all but shining now.
"Forgive me if I don't believe anything you're saying, Mr Potter. How can you love dancing when you have only danced once in your entire stay here at Winchester!"
Mr Potter took the final step and looked down at her, his face only a few inches away from hers.
"The fact that I don't dance at every chance I can does not mean I do not love it, in fact, I dare say it shows I do! Dancing is one of the most intimate and rewarding activities you can do! To share it with anyone you meet, people who you aren't even well acquainted with, will make it lose the exact thing that gives it value!"
"Well, you could at least try and acquaint yourself with other people you meet," She said passionately, straightening her back and not daring to look away. "However do you plan on making relationships with people by just standing angrily all night!"
Time seemed to have stopped as the two of them did nothing but stare at each other. But before Potter could answer, someone cleared their throat beside them. It was only then that she realised how close she was to him and took a few steps back, ignoring the blush on her face as she looked at Mr Corner who was giving her a soft smile.
"Miss Granger, would you do me the honour of being your first dance this evening?"
"Yes," Her voice sounded foreign in her ears. "Of course, Mr Corner."
With a final glance at Potter, she took the offered hand and walked away with Mr Corner, not needing to look back to know that Potter's eyes were following her.
She grinned, pleased with herself.
"A hit, acknowledged!"
Harry grinned at the fencing instructor's declaration.
"I dare say you have become rather slow, Malfoy."
"Fencing has never been an entertainment of mine, Potter, as I am sure you are aware."
"Enough, Sir?" The fencing instructor asked and Harry nodded towards him.
"I believe Mr Malfoy has earned a well-deserved rest."
"How generous," Malfoy drawled as the two men grabbed their refreshments. "Was last night's ball to your enjoyment?"
Harry faltered but for a moment. "As dull as all the rest, I'm afraid."
"Indeed, though I am sure Miss Granger aided in making it a more lively event."
Harry turned towards his best friend, amusement clear on his expression.
"I have absolutely no idea what you're trying to imply."
"You like her."
"I do not."
"She attracts you."
"She does not." Harry stated firmly, and Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him.
"Would you care to explain then why your eyes constantly search her when she isn't aware?" Malfoy continued before Harry could make any sort of response. "Or why you appear outright galled every time she dances with Mr Corner, or Mr Boot, or Mr Goldstein, or Mr Entwistle or Mr Macmillan-"
"Malfoy," Harry warned.
"You can deceive her, you can deceive yourself, but you can't deceive me, Potter," Malfoy turned around and started to walk out of the room. "Miss Granger will be accompanying Miss Brown here for dinner, I suggest you take a bath."
Dinner had been a pleasant yet subdued affair.
Harry had been quiet all throughout as Malfoy led the conversation with Miss Brown and Miss Granger actively participating all throughout. When dinner was over, they retired to the sitting room where Malfoy, Miss Granger, and Miss Brown sat on the couches while Harry settled himself on the table at the edge of the room. The three of them talked unperturbed and just as Harry had begun to think they had forgotten about him, Malfoy called out.
"Come, Potter, we are to play cards."
"I'm afraid I must decline, but please, don't stop on my account." Harry replied, moving a piece on the board.
Malfoy didn't appear to like his answer but didn't press, Miss Granger on the other hand stood and walked towards him.
"I didn't realise that sitting alone for the entire evening while staring at a board was more agreeable with you than joining the rest of us in cards, Sir." She said archly.
"I thought you wise enough to recognise that I am playing chess."
"And I thought you wise enough to know that chess is a game played by two people."
"That does not mean there's nothing to gain by playing alone. To be able to see multiple perspectives and try to emulate their thinking you must put yourself in their place. If you can't do this, you will never be able to win a match against a skilled player who practises this."
"It's a shame there was no one else in the room for you to play with."
"It was not my intent to interrupt your conversation and ask if anyone would have liked to join."
Miss Granger looked at him intently, before settling herself down on the chair in front of him. Harry arched an eyebrow before resetting the pieces on the board. They began playing, Miss Granger remarking on various things about the room, the hall, and the town as she played exceedingly well in Harry's opinion. He answered back with brief replies until Miss Granger remarked on it.
"Do you make a rule out of talking at any given moment, Miss Granger?"
"No," She smiled sweetly at him. "I would rather always be unsociable, silent, and incandescent, that makes life so much more enjoyable."
"There's no remark you have told me tonight that I haven't noticed before you, what would be the point of losing concentration in the game by amusing your remarks as we make idle conversation about nothing important? I am more than happy to oblige and have a conversation, as long as it has meaning."
"If that is the case then why don't we talk about you, Mr Potter, how does a person such as yourself end up becoming friends with Mr Malfoy."
"I have known him longer than I care to remember, along with Mr Longbottom and Mr Nott, he was my closest friend in my childhood. I hadn't seen him in a few years before coming here to Winchester, but thankfully, he agreed to host me."
"And why did you come here? Surely, you must have friends in Steventon that miss you."
"Why do you ask such a question?" He asked coldly.
"I'm merely amusing your request and having a pertinent conversation. Friendships are important, you must miss your old friendships from Steventon."
"What about your friendships, Miss Granger? Tell me, how does Mr Corner do?"
"Very well," Miss Granger grinned, a spark in her eyes. "I have yet to have the fortune to be acquainted with a more pleasant man in my life. He's so very agreeable, a nice man who's incredibly sociable too, and you'd be pressed to find a better dancer than him."
Harry couldn't hold back his contemptuous snort. "Well, my congratulations on you settling for such a… pleasant man, Miss Granger. Do invite me to the wedding, it shall be a lovely day indeed."
Miss Granger faltered for a moment before regaining her composure. "And what is your interest in my courtships, Mr Potter? You have yet to speak to Mr Corner, and we are barely even acquainted."
"I have no interest in your courtships, Miss Granger. I'm merely amusing your request and trying to carry a conversation while playing. Or would you rather we continued playing in silence?"
"There's no need for that." She said, moving her rook before standing and walking towards Malfoy and Miss Brown, who were engrossed in their game of cards.
Harry had thought he had driven her away with his comments, only to look back at the board and realise she had checkmated him.
Hermione had the good fortune of not seeing Mr Potter for almost a fortnight until they met again on the ball at Nott Hall.
The evening had started out as habitual, with a delightful conversation about music and literature led by Mr Nott. However, just as her friends were about to make their way to begin dancing, Mr Malfoy turned towards her and Mr Potter, clearly amused about something.
"My dear Miss Granger, why are you not dancing? Mr Potter, surely you must take her for a dance, she is a most pleasant partner, I assure you." He said, taking her hand and motioning at Mr Potter, who clearly didn't share the amusement of Mr Malfoy, to take it.
After a moment of hesitation, he turned towards her.
"Miss Granger," The words sounded heavy in his mouth. "Would you do me the honour of allowing me the first dance of the night?"
She stared at him, the unwillingness clear in his eyes that almost made her scowl, and just as he was about to reach for her hand, she drew it back. "No."
Mr Potter blinked, for a moment looking completely unlike himself. "I beg your pardon?"
"Indeed, Mr Potter, I have no intention of giving you the honour of my first dance. Such an act so intimate should be reserved for friends and courtships, we are but mere acquaintances. Surely you can grasp such a concept, for I will not waste my first dance, or any dance for that matter, of the evening with a clearly unwilling partner, it would lose the thing that gives it value."
"If you are concerned about me not being agreeable to share a dance with you, I can assure you that I can make myself agreeable."
Hermione smiled. "Do not worry, Mr Potter, that was the last thing on my mind. I am simply not one to beg for a dance partner when there are so many agreeable men in this room."
For a moment, the two stared at each other in silence, and Hermione could see something unreadable in Potter's eye. However, she didn't get to think much of it as Mr Corner arrived and, as customary, offered to be her first dance of the night. Hermione's smile broadened as she accepted the offer, not taking her eyes off of Potter's until Mr Corner grabbed her hand.
"Shall we?" She asked her friends, whom she had forgotten were still witnessing her conversation until that very moment.
As Hermione danced with Mr Corner and her friends, she couldn't help but feel a sense of thrill from deep within her, knowing that Mr Potter's eyes were on her, and only on her, with his usual aggravated expression. After all the times he had indirectly and directly declined to dance with her, the amount of satisfaction she felt at doing the same to him, and have him actually look conflicted, was unlike anything else she had felt before.
For she would not beg for him to be her dance partner. If Mr Potter wished to continue with his attitude and keep playing this little game of theirs, she would be more than happy to oblige.
"I must offer my congratulations to you, Potter," Malfoy said later that night, once they were both back at Malfoy Hall.
"And what is it I have done to earn such a favour from you?"
"You have finally done it, you have squandered any opportunity of a courtship with Miss Granger, who is not only a beautiful young woman that you happen to like, but also the only girl in the town who you have even bothered to get acquainted with. Well done indeed, Sir."
"It is of no consequence, I assure you. I do not like her, she does not attract me, and I certainly do not love her. So forgive me for considering this loss as nothing more than an inconvenience."
"I wonder if you even believe in what you're preaching, Potter," Malfoy said with disappointment before pouring a glass of wine for himself. "I am also curious as to what your plan for the future is. I know for certain that you will not return to Steventon, you are as intimate with your parents as I was and after everything you have told me happened with Miss Bones, I doubt you would even entertain the idea of going back there."
"You would be correct." Harry said stiffly.
Malfoy stared at him before taking a drink out of his glass. "When you told me that you wished to leave Steventon and come to Winchester, you mentioned you wanted a new beginning, free of all the pain and heartache that you had lived in your home. It was an idea I was entirely agreeable to, I opened my doors and provided you with everything you would need for a new beginning in this town. But instead of accepting my gifts and using them to build the life you claimed to have desired, you have wasted them by acting irritable, prideful, and unsociable, acting as ill-mannered as possible with every person you have even bothered to become acquainted with. It seems that instead of leaving it behind, you have brought all the hurt and anger from Steventon and allowed it to guide your actions, making you seem like the most unpleasant individual in the whole town."
Malfoy took another sip of his drink before walking towards him, slapping Harry's arm and gripping it tightly.
"You have been my most intimate friend in all my life, in many ways more family than either of my parents. But the path you are travelling on is not one I can encourage any longer. You are still a welcome guest at my home for as long as you please, and if you so wish, I shall no longer force you to attend any social gatherings or outings to the town that we may go on. If it is your desire to stay inside the hall for the rest of your life on your own, I shall not do anything to challenge it. But when the time comes when you start regretting all of these decisions you are currently making, the only favour I will give you is making sure of not reminding you of this very conversation."
Draco sighed.
"I can't even imagine how hurt you must have felt after how gravely Miss Bones slighted you, and I realise how dancing with someone may serve as a constant reminder to it. But you need to move on, my friend, because if you don't, you shall grow into an old, bitter man, just like your father. I do not wish that of you any more than you do."
Before Harry had any chance to make a response, Malfoy walked past him. The sound of the door shutting rather forcefully echoing inside the empty room.
His conversation with Malfoy repeated itself inside his head for the next month.
No longer being forced to attend to any of the balls, he had not gone outside for the whole time, his only acquaintances over that time being the servants, Malfoy, and Nott and Longbottom whenever they visited. Without that expectation for him to accompany Malfoy on his outings, Harry had finally found the time to enjoy his time by himself. He enveloped himself in his literature, spent afternoons fencing, listened to new music, and when Mr Malfoy was not around, he continued playing chess by himself.
Anything to ignore the conversation from that fateful night, the conversation that had not left his thoughts ever since.
Not for a second did he doubt the veracity of Malfoy's observations, for he knew it was true. He was forced to admit that the bitter nature that had overtaken his public character was entirely intentional from his part. He had never been skilled with communicating with other people, not unless he was well acquainted with them, and being stipulated into attending every ball alongside his friends did not aid at soothing his irascible temper.
He felt no remorse, however, at his temper, feeling that his displeased mood was more than earned. But weeks of silence and relative isolation are good for the mind as they allow much thinking. The benefit of hindsight, he considered, was the cruelest irony that everyone experiences many times during their lifetime, as they reveal just how many opportunities were missed and mistakes were made by lacking foresight.
So while he felt not the least bit of contrition for his feelings, he was conflicted about his actions ever since he arrived at Winchester, as they did not grant him any favours. He had made extremely few acquaintances, with the few he had made being either confrontational or nonexistent. If he would settle down in Winchester, which was still something he desired to do, his attitude had been detrimental to his goals.
And that was without even considering his stubborn affections for Miss Granger. Try as he might, he was not able to deny it to himself anymore, for she had taken residence in his mind and seemed to not be planning on taking her leave. There had not been a day during his isolation in which he hadn't thought of her, whenever Malfoy left for a ball, the image of Miss Granger dancing with Mr Corner, or any other men that were not him poisoned his thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything other than her.
He could practically see her, always in those dresses she always wore to the balls, with her defined collar bones and slim neck, her brown curls tied up in a complex and appealing bun, her lovely smile as she laughed, and her tantalizing brown eyes all but glowed as she talked passionately on literature, art, and poetry.
As much as he wished he could deny the attraction, it had become impossible, and dealing with his interest in her conflicted with the way she constantly got on his nerves and their various arguments and disagreements. It was infuriating and complicated and he wished it didn't take up most of his daily thoughts.
He needed to do much thinking, and thankfully, he had all the time and quiet he needed for it.
With as much haste as she could muster, Hermione entered Malfoy Hall.
A week ago, Lavender had gone to a dinner at Malfoy Hall, one that Hermione had offered to join her but she had declined. Two days later, she had received a letter from her friend detailing that she had fallen ill and Mr Malfoy didn't want her leaving the Hall until she felt better. Hermione had withheld the desire to join her friend in Malfoy Hall until her recovery, that was until this morning when she had received a letter from Mr Malfoy detailing that she had been diagnosed with a violent case of smallpox.
After a brief argument with her mother, she had departed her house and rode towards Malfoy Hall. A servant had allowed her inside and directed her towards the room Lavender had been occupying ever since she had fallen ill. Just as she reached the room and was about to open the door, it opened by itself and a familiar figure stepped out.
"Mr Potter?" She hadn't seen him since that ball over a month ago and knew nothing of the man as Mr Malfoy had been reluctant to answer her inquiries on his presence.
However, as she looked at the man closely, she realised that it wasn't Mr Potter as she noticed wrinkles on his face and the grey hue his hair had.
"I don't believe I have had the pleasure," The man said charmingly, taking hold of her hand and kissing it. "Miss…"
"Granger," She answered, curtsying. "And you are?"
"Mr Potter, though not the one you are acquainted with, I presume."
"No, Sir." She laughed lightly.
"Have you come to visit your friend?" At her nod, he continued. "I'm afraid she is not doing so well at the moment. Not to worry, however, I shall take good care of her and provide all the draughts necessary for her. I shall do everything in my power to make sure she recovers, I give you my word."
"Sir, I must offer you my considerable gratitude. Miss Brown is an intimate friend of mine, your aid to her recovery is a godsend indeed. I do not dare imagine what would be of her if it wasn't for your presence."
"Do not fret on it, Miss Granger. I am always willing to aid any friend of my son's. You are more than welcome to join her inside the room, if you so wish, however, it's best to keep your distance from her, it would be a shame for you to suffer upon the same infliction as she."
"Of course, Sir. Thank you very much."
"You have nothing to thank me for, Miss Granger." Mr Potter gave her a kind smile. "Speaking of my son, you haven't happened to come upon him today, have you? I have not had the pleasure of meeting him since my arrival."
"I have had a busy morning, father." A cold voice said from below them before Hermione could make any response.
Both of them turned to find Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter standing at the foot of the stairs, with the latter glaring at his father with the most disdainful expression she had ever seen on his face. After interacting with his father, Hermione could not understand what had gone wrong with Mr Potter, his father seemed everything he was not; charming, sociable, kind, a good man, which only made her opinion of him drop even further.
A tense silence fell upon them as Mr Potter glowered at his father, who seemed completely unaffected by it, which was only interrupted when Mr Malfoy cleared his throat loudly.
"Mr Potter, how is Miss Brown?"
"I've just given her the draughts she needs, however it shall take more time and rest before she is cured of this dreadful illness. You and Miss Granger may join Miss Brown, she is currently awake, if you don't mind, I would like to get reacquainted with my son."
Mr Malfoy looked at his friend, and Hermione could tell a slight hesitancy in his features before he ascended the stairs and offered her his hand. She took it and the two of them went into the room, leaving the two Potters alone.
Closing the door behind them, both of them greeted Lavender kindly and asked how she was feeling. After a small conversation and reassurement that she was feeling slightly better, she went to sleep, leaving Hermione and Mr Malfoy alone in the room.
"I wish to thank you, Mr Malfoy, not only for allowing me to visit Lavender and be a guest in your home until she recuperates, but for calling on Mr Potter to make sure she is as well treated as possible."
"There is no need, Miss Granger," Malfoy waved her off. "You are always more than welcome in Malfoy Hall. As for calling on Mr Potter, I'm afraid I can not take credit for such an act, as it was, in fact, his son who sent for him without my knowledge."
Hermione blinked. "Pardon."
Malfoy laughed. "Indeed that was my response when Mr Potter arrived earlier this morning."
"Surely you must be exaggerating! With how ill-mannered Mr Potter was with his father, it is not possible that he was the one who approached him into aiding Lavender."
"I am not trying to deceive you, Miss Granger, I assure you, for it was Mr Potter who reached out to his father. Despite his loathing of him, he notified him about Miss Brown's condition and asked him for his aid - without my asking, for that matter. I had assumed that his resentment towards his family would have put Mr Potter in a compromising position, which is why I did not ask - for I know just how much he detests his own father."
"If that is the case, then how come Mr Potter approached his father rather than any other physician?"
Mr Malfoy looked at her intently before smiling softly. "Because, Miss Granger, Mr Potter knew that his father is the most eminent physician not just in Steventon, but in the near area. Because Mr Potter put Miss Brown's health over his pride and anger. And most of all, because Mr Potter is a good man, even if he has tried to convince the world otherwise."
Hermione's conflict over Mr Potter's character was still prevalent in her mind throughout her stay in Malfoy Hall, for she did not believe in Mr Malfoy's claims that it was he who called his father. It seemed highly unlikely given everything she had come to know about his character over the months since he had moved into Winchester, and his discourteous manners with his father. Apart from her, the person Mr Potter seemed to avoid most was his father, and on the extremely few occasions where the two of them were in the same room, a straining tension would fall upon the whole estate. Hermione had even walked in on them having a rather loud disagreement
While Potter, who looked more infuriated and irritable than ever before, avoided her, Hermione managed to spend most of her time with his father and Mr Malfoy. The more she talked to the senior Potter, the more she wondered what had befallen his son that had turned him into who he was, for Mr Potter epitome of what a perfect gentleman should be. She had tried inquiring about his relationship with his son, to which he responded vaguely but assured that he missed him and wished for him to return to Steventon.
A sentiment that Hermione was sure was shared by everyone in Winchester.
As for the younger Mr Potter, she had not spent a lot of time with him, which she considered a blessing. He seemed much engrossed in his indignation and desire to avoid everyone in the Hall that he had not even cared for what used to be their habitual verbal sparring, which was not for lack of trying on her part as she had attempted to commence them only to be ignored, which only vexed her more.
It wasn't until almost ten days after her arrival that she managed to have a conversation with him.
She was walking the grounds on her own, admiring the beautiful sight the state provided before she came upon him. He was outside the stables, bathing one of the horses, and, to her surprise, talking to it. She couldn't make out the words but his voice was soft and kind, and completely unlike him. As she made her way towards him, she saw the horse vigorously shake his head and hit Mr Potter with a stream of water.
She couldn't help but giggle only to stop when she realised that Mr Potter had started laughing as well, and quite loudly. She had never heard him laugh before, or even seen him portray a genuine smile. The man she was witnessing was completely unlike the man she had known.
"You seem to be in need of a towel, sir." She called out to him as she reached him.
Hermione saw as Mr Potter stiffened and suddenly, the man she had become acquainted with seemed to have taken his place.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. Is there anything you wish for me to assist you with?" He asked without turning to look at her.
"Some company would be welcome."
"As you wish," He said curtly before returning to bathe the horse.
The intolerable silence lasted but for a minute.
"Miss Brown is doing so much better now, in fact, your father claims that she should be free to return home by the morrow."
"I am relieved to hear that, do send my blessings to Miss Brown before she leaves."
"You could give her your blessing in person, Mr Potter, as Mr Malfoy claims it was you who approached your father. Surely that means you care for her health enough to assist her in her departure."
Mr Potter froze for a second before continuing bathing the horse without giving her a response, and it was at this moment where Hermione believed that Mr Malfoy's claims may not have been entirely baseless.
"Your father, Sir" She continued. "Seems to be such an agreeable gentleman. Do send him my regards and my gratitude."
Mr Potter scoffed bitterly. "You seem to spend more time with him than I do, I'm sure you can inform him of this yourself."
"And why is that, Mr Potter? I believe you prideful enough to think yourself above everyone in Winchester, but to think yourself above your own father. What is it about you that makes you disagreeable to every person in your life?"
"Miss Granger, if you desire for me to attempt at changing your views on my father, you are going to be disappointed. You are entitled to your own admiring opinion of the man just as I am entitled to my feelings of him. While I am extremely thankful that he came and aided Miss Brown, nothing you can say to me about him shall change my opinion of him just like nothing I can say to you may change your opinion of him. I have no interest in fruitless arguments."
"I am more than capable at forming my own opinions of the people I become acquainted with, Mr Potter, I do not need you to aid me in forming them. I am merely curious as to how someone as unpleasant and incandescent as you can have such an audacity to treat your own father, a person who should always be respected, in such a way."
Mr Potter violently turned to her, a raging inferno radiating off of his eyes as he gazed at her.
"My father deserves a great many things from me, however, respect is not one of them."
Hermione tried to say anything but she felt unable to do anything but stare at the shining eyes that were only inches away from her. His larger figure was crowding her, making her unable to breathe or move, only witness Mr Potter's speech.
"You might not believe when I tell you that before moving to Malfoy Hall, I was engaged to who I thought to be the love of my life. When she had agreed to wed me I was certain I was the most fortunate and happiest man alive, for I had found the perfect wife, a kind, handsome, and supporting partner who happened to come from an equally wealthy family but more importantly, someone I had loved deeply and completely. I had thought myself blessed with the perfect marriage."
Mr Potter swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing.
"Three days before our wedding I found out that my wife to be was pregnant, a curious fact since we had yet to consummate our relationship. She had been unfaithful, you see, and it wasn't until that day that I discovered just how much she had deceived me throughout our courtship and road to marriage. As soon as I learnt of this I went to my father and informed him I would be calling off my marriage. He was not agreeable to this and desired to force me into a marriage with the person who betrayed me so profoundly just to make sure I had managed to acquire myself an advantageous match who would help in continuing our family."
"I rejected this, much to my father and mother's displeasure, and they threatened to leave me penniless if I did not go forward with my marriage to Miss Bones. At facing destitution and a loveless marriage, I chose destitution. However, as I have no siblings, no cousins, no uncles, no family besides my parents, who can't conceive any more, they could not enforce their threat, lest they destroy any future to our name and our family. If it had not been for that, my parents would have happily seen me starving and homeless, as nothing more than a beggar on the street."
Mr Potter knelt down, grabbing the bucket before once again irately gazing at her, his hot breath sending goosebumps throughout her body.
"You are entitled to having your adoring opinion of my father and your detestable opinion of myself. But do not for a second presume to know anything about me."
She had not stopped thinking about Mr Potter's revelations during her whole stay in Malfoy Hall, but it wasn't until the night before her departure that she managed to get a moment alone with him again.
As she was making her way to Lavender's room, she passed the sitting room only to find Mr Potter in it. The lonely candle on the desk he was sitting at dissipated the darkness of the silent room as the man stared irritably at the letter in his hand. Tentatively, Hermione approached the room.
"Mr Potter-"
The man in question abruptly turned towards her, the surprise in his features quickly masked.
"Good evening, Miss Granger, how is Miss Brown?" He asked in a strained voice.
"Y-your father told me that she's all but recovered, we should be able to leave in the morrow."
"Good," He forced a smile on his face, crumpling the letter in his hand. "I'm glad for her recovery."
"Indeed, it was most fortunate that she received treatment when she did. I do not desire to imagine what would have happened if…"
"Indeed…"
"Sir… Mr Potter, I would like to give my sincerest apologies for our conversation earlier in the week. My words were unfounded and hurtful, and I'm afraid I may have judged you too soon. What you experienced - no man or woman should have to. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have felt…"
"Do not dwell on it, Miss Granger, I have to acknowledge that I have not been the most… well-mannered person since my arrival at Winchester. I must also bear the fault for my own actions and strive to better myself. I am not exactly… proficient at engaging with people I am not acquainted with - a fact which Mr Malfoy often reminds me of."
Hermione laughed lightly and Mr Potter smiled. "I'm afraid that Mr Malfoy might have a point. However… I have found that the finest way at improving is through practice. There's a ball in a few days, perhaps it would be beneficial for you to attend."
She's surprised at her words, not knowing why she has said them.
"Perhaps… I shall deliberate on it."
Hermione smiled, moving on the balls of her feet as Mr Potter stared at her, as if staring at her very soul, before she cleared her throat. "Well… I must really be going."
"Of course," Mr Potter said, looking back at the crumpled letter on his desk. "Of course."
Hermione curtsied and he bowed back, but just as she was about to leave the room he called out to her.
"Yes, Mr Potter?" She asked, turning to face him.
He gazed at her once more before slowly standing from his chair. Hermione could only watch as he made his way across the room towards her until he was standing right in front of her. His eyes examining every feature of her face as his hot breath gently clashed against her skin before his eyes finally settled on hers. Ever so slightly he tilted his head towards her and she instinctively did the same until their noses were nearly touching.
A gnawing expression coloured his handsome features as his breaths became more shallow. They stared at each other for what might have been hours before his hand steadily arose, and Hermione closed her eyes without deliberation. Fully expecting his hand to cup her cheek, she was surprised when instead it focused on a strand of her hair on her face. Tenderly, she felt as Mr Potter tucked it behind her ear just before she opened her eyes, gazing at him through her eyelashes.
"Good night," He breathed out. "Miss Granger."
She let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding.
"Good night, Mr Potter."
The next day she barely saw Mr Potter, however, he did surprise her by seeing her and Miss Brown to their carriage. Not a word was exchanged between the two of them, nothing but a gentle touch when he helped her to her carriage, sending a jolt throughout her body as he did. But before she could deliver much thought towards it, he was gone, walking back to the manor.
During the whole ride, neither Mr Potter nor their moment from the previous night left her for even a second. The memory enveloped her every thought as her conflicted mind tried to deal with the exceedingly puzzling and illogical feelings towards Mr Potter's character. She needed to arrange her mind before she saw him again, it would do her no favours to see him before she did.
When the carriage arrived at the Brown residence, Lavender had invited her for breakfast with her family, to which she had accepted. Mr and Mrs Brown and Lavender's two siblings had greeted the blond enthusiastically, not having had the privilege of seeing her for close to two fortnights. It wasn't until after breakfast when Hermione accompanied Lavender to the sitting room, away from all the family, that Lavender brought the topic of Mr Potter again.
"What of him?"
"He likes you."
"He most certainly does not!" Lavender raised an eyebrow at her. "And even if he did, it is no concern of mine what that man thinks of me."
"You like him too," She grinned.
"I…" Hermione stopped and Lavender gained a triumphant look. "Mr Potter is the most arrogant, unpleasant, and conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to meet!" The words came out of habit rather than out of any sincerity they may hold in her mind.
Lavender gazed at her carefully. "Did you know that Mr Potter spent almost all of his time in my room when I first fell ill? He ate there on the chair beside me, had a servant sleep in the room who woke him up if there were any emergencies, only really left me on my own whenever he was in need of bathing or relieving himself. He tended to me for the first week until his father arrived at the Hall."
Hermione stared back, words suddenly a foreign concept in her mind, before Lavender continued.
"Tell me, Hermione, do you like Mr Corner?"
"Yes, I am fond of him."
"Do you love him?"
Hermione tried to assure Lavender, quite heatedly, that she did. But she was unable to.
"You have always been a romantic, Hermione, we both know you would rather become impoverished than to be a part of a morose marriage. For the past six months you have been hesitant to move forward with your courtship with Mr Corner, and I believe that is because you have known since then that you do not love him. Or have I made an incorrect assumption?"
Hermione's silence was the loudest sound in the entire house.
Three nights later, Hermione could not hide her surprise when she noticed Mr Potter joining Mr Malfoy, Mr Nott, and Mr Longbottom in the ball at Abbott Hall. However, that was not to be her only surprise of the evening as Mr Potter acted entirely different than the norm. He was no longer silent and antagonistic, he seemed more at ease, and made an effort to speak more, in an almost shy manner. The effect on the group was evident for all of them to see, as Mr Potter became much more agreeable in the ladies eyes, and the gentlemen seemed more content than ever by their friend's behavioural change.
The time came, once again, when people began dancing. The three couples went ahead, Hermione noticing Mr Malfoy giving a minuscule nod to Mr Potter before taking Lavender's hand, leaving only the two of them.
"You look particularly beautiful tonight, Miss Granger," He told her the moment they were alone.
Hermione felt her cheeks flush. "Thank you, Mr Potter." She curtsied.
"You were correct." He spoke abruptly.
"Pardon?"
"What you told me at Malfoy Hall during your last night." Her confusion must have been written on her face. "Practice!"
"Oh," She laughed softly. "Indeed, practice is often known as the best way of improving in anything you may desire to."
"I was wondering… if you could aid me in practising something else?"
"And what may that be?" She asked, more shakily than she would be willing to admit.
"Dancing," He offered her his hand. "It has been months since my last dance, I'm sure my aptitude for it is in great need of practice."
Hermione's gaze drifted away from his hand, to which had previously beckoned for her attention, and looked at Mr Potter. To any person, he would seem to be the epitome of calm and confidence, especially because of the handsome smile on his features. However, Hermione knew that not to be the case as trepidation and insecurity shone through his eyes so brightly and so encompassing, that it made Hermione wonder how she could have missed any other instances like this, for it was not possible for her to notice anything else at the moment.
In that second that she looked into his eyes, she began questioning everything she had thought she knew about Mr Potter. For she had to have been mistaken, the man in front of her now, the man she had come to truly know over the past fortnight through his tragic tale, his selfless actions, Lavender's account of him during her period in Malfoy Hall, was nothing like the man she thought she knew.
And so, it was because of this that she ignored how she could see Mr Corner approach her from her peripheral vision and took his hand with a shy smile. "I might be able to assist you with that, Mr Potter."
Appearing much more relieved, Mr Potter walked them towards where the other couples were currently dancing. He twirled her before pulling her close to him, his right hand settling on her waist as hers settled on his shoulder. Hermione was sure that, even if she had attempted to, she would not have been able to ignore the strong yet gentle way he was holding her, how she could feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin in her neck and collarbone, how he brought her slightly closer than all of her previous partners ever had.
"I hope I can still make for a pleasant dancing partner," His words brought her attention back to him.
His eyes were lit brighter than the blinding smile on his face, and she could not help but grin as well.
"I am sure I am more than congenial enough for the both of us Mr Potter."
Ha laughed, a bewitching sound in it of itself, and held her slightly firmer as they waltzed around the room. It was then, as she gazed at him, his laugh echoing in her ears as he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the room, that Hermione realised that no other dance partner would ever compare to him.
A fact that he made clear in their many dances throughout the rest of the evening.
"Stop it!" Hermione cried out with as much seriousness as she could muster, though it was in vain as the other three girls giggled harder.
The next morning after the ball, the four girls were in the middle of a walk around the town, currently tormenting Hermione by mimicking her previous remarks on Mr Potter, which they seem to find incredibly amusing after last night's events.
"He is honestly the most dreadful, appalling coward I have ever had the misfortune of meeting," Her sister spoke mischievously.
"Absolutely, there is no bigger disgrace to a fine gentleman than Mr Potter," Lavender's eyes sparkled with glee.
"I so pity the girl who ends up marrying such a fowl, loathsome man, I would not even be tempted for all the riches in the world." The seriousness in Daphne's tome masked the amusement of the girl.
"Need I remind you that I was certainly not the only one of us who made comments like that of Mr Potter, I remember several remarks from each of you."
"Indeed we did, sister, however, neither of us, but you fell in love with the man."
"But you have come to find him agreeable as well!"
"And yet, we did not spend all our night stealing glances at him."
"Or talking about him at every given moment after the ball."
"Or dancing multiple times with him, neglecting Mr Corner in the process."
"I did not ignore him, I danced with him the one time and spent a couple of minutes with his party."
"And how many dances did you share with Mr Potter, dear sister?"
"That is of no importance, Emily."
"I am honestly still shocked that our Hermione even allowed Mr Potter the honour of dancing with her, let alone the first dance, as it was only a month ago how she was cursing his name and vowing to hate him for all eternity."
"I believe I was quite wrong about Mr Potter, for it is clear now that you three are the most disagreeable people I have ever met in my life, not him."
As the three girls continued laughing, Hermione decided it would be them who she would loathe for all eternity. The ribbing continued in a similar fashion until it was stopped abruptly when they happened upon Mr Malfoy, who had a grave look on his face. After the introductory curtsies, his gaze landed on her.
"Mr Malfoy?" She queried.
"Miss Granger, I'm afraid I have something for you." Reaching into his suit, he pulled out a sealed letter and handed it to her. "From our dear Mr Potter."
There was something in his look that told her she needed to read the letter now rather than waiting until she was home. And so, ignoring the incivility of her actions she opened the letter, her stomach dropping further and further as she made her way through the neatly jotted words of Mr Potter, that conveyed his regret of having to leave Winchester for an indeterminate amount of time, while reassuring her that this was in no way connected to the events of last night, promising her a dance when, the if unspoken, he returned.
"He can't be," She looked up towards Mr Malfoy. "He's not gone."
"I'm afraid he is," There was a small pause in which Hermione started feeling light-headed before he continued. "If it's any consolation, I do not think it was his choice to leave as he didn't seem particularly pleased when he told me this morning."
Hermione's eyes widened. "You don't think-"
"Unfortunately, I do. Reaching out to him was a mistake, for I knew that there would be a price to be paid for it, which is why I never asked Potter to do it."
"But surely there must be something we can do! We can't just sit around and wait for this to resolve itself!"
"Alas, that is the only thing we can do, Miss Granger."
After a day of travelling via horse, Harry had officially made it to Potter Hall. The servants had greeted him with just enough politeness to be courteous. However, the lack of the sense of familiarity that they previously had when he lived in the manor made it clear to him that he was no longer welcome in his old home.
He had always considered the manor to be a sullen and dispiriting place, and his latest visit only enforced that. The creaks on the floor caused by his footsteps echoed loudly along the halls, the portraits on the hollow walls barely visible due to the poor lighting of the manor. There has always been an eeriness in the climate of the manor, for even though it looked and sounded as if it was completely devoid of any presence but yours, you never truly felt alone.
He needed to finish his business here with as much haste and return to Winchester, though a part of him knew it wouldn't be so uncomplicated.
As he reached the Master study, he delivered a firm knock which was answered by a command to come inside, for it was truly delivered like a command, and he had no option but to comply. He stepped inside and took a seat in front of his father, as he slowly finished the letter in front of him.
"You're late." He called out coldly.
"And you seem to have occupied yourself fairly well in my absence."
His father placed the quill down on the table harshly before gazing at him disdainfully.
"It's good to know that your time in Winchester has not made your word invalid, I was beginning to think you would not show."
"I had a prior commitment I needed to attend to."
"Well, I hope you are done with your commitments in Winchester for you are not to return there, you will be staying here at Potter Hall and finally find yourself a proper wife."
"I believe we have talked about this many times, father," He spat the word as if it was dirt in his mouth. "Perhaps you are becoming deaf in your old age."
"Indeed, we have, and during all our conversations on the matter, I have not changed my mind. I will not have my son squander his time in the balls of Winchester, hanging about lowborn women like your Miss Granger with whom you seem terribly enamoured with, rather than fulfil your family duty by staying here in Steventon, maintaining our family reputation and finding a fine wife who will give you an heir to continue our family."
"And if I refuse?" He scoffed.
His father gave him a poisonous grin as he reached into the drawer beside him, pulling out a stack of paper and dropping it in front of him. After a puzzled look, Harry grabbed the papers and began reading them as his father continued talking.
"It's time for you to grow up and accept your responsibilities. I will no longer entertain your foolish fantasies or allow you to continue as you have ever since you cancelled your wedding to Miss Bones. Your mother and I have already picked out a suitable wife for you, Miss Parkinson, and you are to marry her within the next month otherwise, I will make sure the Potter name dies with me rather than allow you to sully it before it ultimately dies with your descendants, that is if you ever have them." He finished snidely.
Harry looked up from the papers, appalled. "You would give our fortune to the Smiths all to prove a point?"
"They have managed our estate for generations now and have done a marvelous job at that. They are more worthy of receiving our fortune than you will ever be, and they will unless you do as you're told. Your mother and I are not fooling around anymore, boy, this is your time to decide whether you will obey us or be cast out of our house, into a poverty so great that becoming an officer would be a blessing."
Harry's eyes burned as he glanced towards his father with an expression so cold it lowered the climate of the room.
"Make your choice, son, and do so with haste, because if you do not agree to it before dawn I will see you thrown out of this manor myself."
The wind hit her face as she rode on her horse through the fields near her home.
It had been five days since Mr Potter had left for Steventon, a fact she knew incredibly well as it hadn't left her alone ever since she found out. If she was honest with herself, Hermione honestly did not comprehend why Mr Potter's absence had affected her the way it had, the mere notion of him not returning to Winchester upset her, something that she knew her friends had realised, but graciously had not said a word of it.
She had desired to ask her father for the horse so that she could head towards Potter Hall, however, she had refrained since Mr Malfoy was right, there was nothing more to do but wait. The uncertainty of not seeing Mr Potter again ate at her more than she realised it would, to the point where she began having trouble sleeping, which is how she found herself out of the house and riding her horse at the break of dawn.
It was when she was just about to return home that she spotted him, a man walking towards her from the distance. It was not until he continued walking that she managed to identify him as Mr Potter! Getting off her horse, she noted how truly chaotic his hair was, the dishevelled state that his clothes were in, with his shirt exposing his chest and his coat hanging on loosely. But most of all, she noted how fatigued he looked as he gradually made his way towards her.
Her mind was incredibly conflicted as a part of her desired to laugh in relief at managing to see him again, to rush towards him and make sure that he was alright (for he most certainly did not look that way!), to ask him a million questions and try to decipher what in the world was going on. However, she could do none of it as she was rooted on the spot, incapable of doing more than waiting for him.
When he arrived, standing only a couple of feet away from her, the two did nothing but stare at each other. Hermione drank in his appearance, his beard was more grown out since their last meeting, his face seemed much rougher overall, his black mess of hair sticking out in every possible direction, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed how exhausted he truly was.
"I couldn't sleep," She whispered, not really knowing why those were the words that left her mouth.
"I noticed," He gave her a small smile.
Hermione blinked. "Did you walk all the way from Malfoy Hall to here?" It was over five miles away!
"No," He laughed lightly. "From Steventon, actually."
"From… you… what!? What about your horse?"
"In Potter Hall, though I can't claim to call it my horse any longer."
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "He didn't!"
"I'm afraid he did," He said resignedly. "After aiding in Miss Brown's recovery, he expected a favour from me, something I knew would happen when I reached out to him, however, I can't say I expected this course of action. He had picked a bride for me, you see, and was dead set on me to marry her if I wanted to retain my status as his heir." A proud grin crossed his handsome features. "You should have seen the surprise on his face when I rejected his offer without hesitation."
"Why?" She cried out heatedly, stepping towards him. "If you knew he would ask for a favour for you after you ended on bad terms with him, why did you call him to attend to Lavender? Why not accept his offer after he threatened to take everything from you?"
"Because I could not, in good conscience, marry someone else when my heart already belongs to another."
He turned towards her, gazing directly into her eyes with a smouldering intensity that lit his up like never before, startling Hermione in the process.
"Ever since I met you that night at the ball, I have tried everything I could to disregard the feelings I've had for you, feelings that have only grown stronger with every passing day. But I was a fool thinking that I could ever ignore such feelings and move on with my life, for I can not stop from feeling the way I do even if I wanted to - as it would be much easier to stop breathing than to ignore them any longer. For you have a hold on my heart unlike any other has ever or will ever have. My heart is yours to do with as you so please, it would be ignorant of me to claim otherwise, because I love you. I am unequivocally, hopelessly, and utterly in love with you, and I doubt these feelings shall ever leave me."
Hermione opened her mouth shakily, but was unable to say anything as Mr Potter continued.
"If you feel the same way about me as I do about you, I would be honoured if you agree to accept my hand in marriage. I'm aware that I don't have much to offer at the moment, but I would give you my word that I would move heaven and earth so that I can grant you with the life you deserve and make you the-"
"Yes." Her low whisper immediately stopped him.
"Pardon?"
Hermione could not stop the laugh that escaped her as a massive grin appeared on her face. Reaching to his hands, she grabbed them and brought them up to her mouth before delivering two gentle kisses to each of them.
"I will marry you, Sir."
His large smile beamed at her as he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful thing to have ever graced this world. He slowly inclined his head towards hers until their foreheads touched, an ecstatic chuckle coming from deep within him as he gazed into her eyes made her start laughing again.
For she knew that Harry Potter would make her the happiest woman in the world.
"You owe me a dance, Mr Potter," Hermione called out cheerfully to her husband as she left their room and headed towards their kitchen.
Convincing her parents of allowing her to marry a newly destitute man with no income at the moment was challenging, however, she managed to do so after a long discussion between them. They had married a couple of months later, a large celebration in Malfoy Hall in which Mr Malfoy financed the whole event. However, it wasn't just the wedding that Mr Malfoy gifted to them for their union, as he also bought the home where they currently lived in.
Mr Potter had kept his promise to her, becoming Mr Malfoy's estate manager and handling most of the business and financial aspect of their friend's life, earning a fine living from it and managing to climb back to relative privilege. Mr Malfoy had originally intended to not let Mr Potter work for him, offering to help him financially for as long as he wished as his fortune was large enough. However, Mr Potter rejected this gift and refused to accept any financial help unless he worked for it.
Now, one year after their wedding, Mr Malfoy had offered to host a ball in honour of their anniversary in his home. That is how she found her husband, as handsome as ever with his neatly trimmed beard, messily combed hair, wearing his usual black and green coat over his white shirt as he waited for her to take the carriage to Malfoy Hall.
"I believe I promised a dance for the ball, not before it, Mrs Potter." He retorted amusedly even as he twirled her before bringing her close to him.
Hermione had long since learnt that she could happily spend the rest of her life in her husband's arms. She couldn't help but fall for him all over again when he held her in his arms in the way he always did. It never failed to make her feel like the most beautiful, most precious thing he had ever beheld. She could not imagine a day going by without feeling like this, for Mr Potter seemed to have made his mission to spoil her silly for the rest of her life.
"We both know you can never say no to me, husband of mine." She grinned.
"Unfortunately, I can not." He said, sounding anything but sorry.
They continued dancing in silence, holding each other and swaying gently around the room before he spoke up.
"Are you ready for tonight?"
"I am not the one who still isn't entirely fond of balls, dear."
"I was referring to our announcement. Your sister is finally back from her honeymoon with Neville, this is the perfect time to tell your family."
"Mother will be thrilled," She laughed, unconsciously placing a hand on her middle. "She's been asking when we would give her grandchildren since the moment we made our vows."
"That she has," He stated fondly before adopting a more serious expression. "What about you?"
Hermione stopped moving and looked intently into those beautiful green eyes that had enchanted her since the day she met him. "Since the day you proposed to me, Mr Potter, you have made me the happiest woman who ever lived. I never believed it possible to be as happy as I am with you, you may claim that I am the one who has a hold on your heart, but you have a hold on my soul that is even stronger. I could not have come upon a better husband with whom I would wish to build a family."
Her husband beamed at her as he blinked rapidly before he slowly leaned in, kissing her lips softly. Hermione kissed him back gently, her arms around his neck bringing him closer to her as his settled on her lower back. She let him dip her slightly without breaking the kiss, savouring the exhilarating way his lips felt on hers before he pulled back, staring into her eyes with so much love and affection that it took her breath away.
"I love you, Mrs Potter."
"And I love you, Mr Potter."
This was meant to be 2,000 words, I have no idea what happened.