Hello!
I wanted to thank everyone who has followed, favoured or reviewed on the story. I'm very excited to be sharing my sad tale with you and to see your support.
This chapter is Hermione- centred and I hope you enjoy it because no matter how sad this story made me while writing it, it's still my baby and my very first Dramione multichapter and I love it.
A reminder before you start; I'm not a native english speaker and do not yet have a beta so all mistakes are my own.
There was a man in her dreams that night.
He was there every single night since her arrest but she had learnt to live with her dreams and her fantasies. Besides, it was better to live in them than allow reality to sink in.
In the long months she had spent in that cell she had touched the edges of insanity so many times that it was impossible to say right from wrong, good from bad, real from unreal anymore.
What was one fantasy more? What was one dream more?
Soft lips, pillowy and tender like petals kissed her own lips and she shivered from head to toe. Tangled in a bed that wasn't her own, that wasn't his own, but was theirs, she melted in a puddle of liquid love. She knew that if she had to describe love, its essence, its smell, its form, it would have his eyes and his tender touch and his masculine natural perfume.
She was more than content, being in his arms.
She was so immensely happy that all her scars, all the pain of her past and his mistakes, of her stubbornness and his pride, of her naivety and his jealousy, were healing with each caress.
"I love you. I love you. I love you." His voice was a dark baritone timbre of lust and adoration as he punctuated each "I love you," with a kiss, with a caress.
"I love you. I love you. I love you." Her voice was a whisper of tenderness and affection, as her lips followed a trail across his shoulder to his neck, behind his ear, towards his cheek, then his jaw and finally, his lips.
Long fingers and strong arms embraced her and she melted in that simple embrace for she was a woman loved and a woman possessed with loving a man.
Then, one strong hand, reached her abdomen and a warm palm rested upon her slightly rounded belly. The palm, possessively resting above the life they had created, sent fire to the insides of her soul. Scorched her with need. And something else.
Fire…
The smell of fire replaced the intoxicating essence that was his presence and suddenly, she was engulfed in flames. Her whole body, still tangled in the silky sheets of their shared bed, was surrounded by orange and red and yellow flames that ate at the silk and roared at the drapes of the canopy.
Smoke filled her lungs but she neither coughed or screamed or panicked. She remained still, wrapped up in his calming embrace, for He was still in her arms, his lips still at the hollow of her neck and his palm still upon her abdomen.
As the flames spread upon their bed and licked her skin, she didn't even flinch. She didn't dare move or try to escape as she wanted this fire to feast upon her.
Because she knew that if she burned, Draco would burn with her.
She felt his presence long before seeing his face behind the bars of her prison. A whole year had passed since that fateful day she had first met him in the gardens of his Manor on top of his horse.
It had always been like that. She could sense him long before he appeared in front of her. At the beginning, she had sensed him only mere seconds before he made his presence known. As the days passed though, and their acquaintance became something more, she could feel him approaching her whole minutes before he appeared in her line of vision.
She could never give a logical explanation as to why this was happening. It was her darkest secret, along with the excitement that their secret meetings always caused her.
Now it was too late to right her wrongs. The shame she felt over what she had allowed him to do to her, was pointless. His lordship had interpreted her reactions however he saw fit and had done to her whatever the hell he wanted. In the end, the moment she had decided to deny him, he had shown his true colors and thus she found herself in that predicament. In prison, in hell and a day, or so, before her anticipated death.
In their second to last meeting, he had openly asked her to be his mistress, to betray her vows to her fiancé, to persuade her family to accept a heavy pack full of golden coins, to pay for their silence and her virtue. And she had refused. How could she have accepted?
Her fiancé, Ronald, had been her whole life once upon a time. She had known him since she was a little girl. They had grown up together and they were best friends since the age of eleven.
The webs of their fate were intertwined and their life was supposed to follow a common path.
When she had presented as a muggleborn witch at the age of eleven, she had been forced by the magical community to cut down all ties to her muggle family and live amongst witches and wizards. Muggles weren't allowed to know about magic, for it was dangerous to reveal such a gift. One mishap, one wrong word and she would have been prey to the witch hunting tactics of the church.
Thus, they had taken her away from her home and her parents and brother, erasing all memory of her existence from their minds.
At first, she had been excited at the prospect of magic and her newly discovered gifts, until she realized that she would never see her muggle parents again and that in this new world, as a muggleborn, she was the lowest kind of witch and would never be able to aspire to be something better than a common servant. House elves had more rights than her.
It had been a shock, for in her life as a muggle she had been the respected daughter of the village doctor and had had enough luxuries to not be considered rich but at least live comfortably. She would have had good prospects in finding a good husband and building a home, had she not been thrown in the wizarding world and their reclusive community.
Most muggleborns lived in poverty and starvation. Female muggleborns in particular, engaged themselves in acts no proper for respectable women, doing everything in their power for a few coins and a scrap of food.
The only way to rise socially was to marry a Pureblood but very few lowered themselves to such an abominable act as to marry beneath them. Those matches were mostly between purebloods that were poor. Half-bloods were a rarity and were mostly bastards.
Luckily, some muggleborns had it better than others. The luckiest of the sort were those who found themselves in the care of a wizarding family, bereft to their kindness.
And that is how she had met Ronald.
It was his family, a poor but kind family, that had taken an eleven-year-old Hermione under their roof and wing and had introduced her to the magical community. She would live a servant's life but at least the family taking care of her was extremely kind and welcoming.
Even though the Weasleys had seven children of their own to fend for, they had gladly received her in their family and had loved her as their own.
Since the age of fifteen, she had known that she would one day get married to Ronald, the youngest of the six sons in the Weasley family. They had bonded immediately as children and has grown even closer as the years passed. He was also the closest brother of the six in her age and though his older brothers were wonderful, Ronald held a special place in her heart.
Even his mother, sweet and gentle Mrs. Weasley, had taken her aside once she had turned sixteen and had told her that it was the logical and right thing to happen. It would also make the poor old woman immensely happy to have Hermione as official family for the rest of their lives.
By the time she turned seventeen, Hermione was certain that she didn't love Ronald like a lover does a lover or a wife does her husband but she loved him as a sister loved her brother. And in her mind and the wizarding community that she lived in, that was enough. She would have a wonderful life with Ronald because they cared about each other too much, loved each other too much.
Ronald had been her best friend from the start. He had been her supporter through all their struggles and he was a man who adored her with all his heart. It was true that Ronald loved her completely and truly and according to him they were destined to be.
She had believed him but had not returned the sentiment. Her fate had already been written and marrying him had been the right thing to do, the rational thing, her duty. His love for her would have to be enough for the both them and Hermione had been certain that in time she would come to love him as something more than a brother.
It would have been easy to love him like that. If only she had allowed her heart to synchronize with his...
But love had been a concept that scared her. For some reason, unknown to her, she hadn't allowed herself to fall in love with Ronald. She wasn't in love with him but she respected and loved him deeply in her own way. She would never betray him and her vows to him and his family. And she didn't want to hurt him.
Hermione had never felt or seen a love as pure as Ronald's for her. Actually, she hadn't expected anyone to ever love her because of her lower and rare status as a muggleborn.
Yes, she was beautiful and elegant, for a servant girl, but she was the lowest kind of witch in wizarding society and her kind was shunned and treated like scum on earth.
However, Ronald and his family cared not for her blood status. Though pureblooded, they were poor and humble and would not allow themselves to shun a person for something they had no control over.
Since the Weasleys were poor and she had nothing to offer them, both she and Ronald had to work hard if they wanted to get married. Ronald had already been working at the fields many hours a day but she had wanted to help him.
As a woman and as a muggleborn, she didn't have many professional choices.
It was either hard work at the fields or work as a maiden, a servant girl, in the looming Manor of the lord that owned the lands they lived in.
She chose the latter and for the first time in her life the education she had been given by her muggle parents before she had been taken away from them - reading, writing, calculating- came in handy. Everything seemed to be running smoothly in her life and she had even started warming up a bit more to Ronald's affection.
And then she met him...
One cold February early evening he entered her life.
Lord Draco Malfoy
The man who thought he could own her just like he owned his other precious possessions.
She was in the gardens that day, taking care of the winter blue roses of the Lady Narcissa, her mistress, when she suddenly saw him on his horse, handsome as he was and powerful, and Hermione's heart had stopped beating.
He noticed her staring at him with her dark eyes and the air of defiance she emitted and he was impressed that she didn't look intimidated by his status. Her eyes were challenging and intelligent and she was daring him to approach her without even realizing it. She was the image of pure virgin innocence but had the eyes of a temptress.
That servant girl behind the blue roses had dared to lock eyes with him, the prince of Pureblood wizarding society, but he didn't feel any anger. Just curiosity and then awe and he realized that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon, shaming the ladies that graced the halls of his towers.
He got off his horse and approached her with a confident swagger, his eyes never leaving hers. She didn't even flinch as he stood before her and towered her petite form. Up close, he realized, she was exceptional.
He was completely overwhelmed by her.
From that day on, he met her daily, every evening when she cared for his mother's roses. He distracted her from her work and he asked her to accompany him on long strolls in the gardens. A couple of times he had walked her to her small house and hadn't even thought of or cared of the angry looks her fiancé sent his way. He didn't feel threatened by a peasant boy, a pathetic poor Weasley who had dared to promise himself to the flower that was called Hermione as if he had the right.
Besides, it was Hermione herself that never denied him her company and always accepted his offer for a stroll in the gardens. Both out of curiosity and fear. In her nineteen years of age, she thought that it was the right thing to do. She had been taught by Mrs. Weasley herself that she always had to be respectful of her superiors.
Hermione was extremely stubborn and defensive and she had never quite accepted that she had been dragged from her comfortable life in the muggle world with her mama and her papa to be a servant for the rest of her life. But Mrs. Weasley had warned her that such rebellious attitude would only hurt her and for that reason she always had to be very careful if her path collided with one of the pureblood echelons.
And Draco Malfoy was the prince of their wizarding clan.
"Don't you dare disobey his orders even if they are completely irrational," Molly had warned her one day when Hermione had admitted that the Lord of the Manor had taken an interest in her.
"My dear he has the power to kick us out of his land and our home. He has the power to destroy the life we've built. And then where will we go? This is our home and we do not have the means to start over elsewhere!"
And so, Hermione obliged to her Lord's demands for innocent strolls in the gardens and the vast fields of his land.
She would brace her heart and sent an apologetic glance towards Ronald. Then she would bite her lower lip nervously and would follow Lord Malfoy in long walks in the gardens.
At first, he was very kind and charming and extremely respectful. He talked to her about everything. About his hopes and dreams- the dreams he had abandoned for his duties as a Lord upon his father's death.
He talked about his wife of a few months, Lady Astoria of the House of Greengrass, that was a very sickly woman that spend most of her days in bed, about the properties his family owned, about how much he wanted a son. He had confessed to her that he didn't love Astoria and that he probably never would even though he was still very young- only three years her senior. Sometimes she could see his silver eyes darkening as he looked at her with something she couldn't identify. This dark look though made her blush furiously and feel embarrassment flushing her cheeks.
He never failed to show her how much he enjoyed her company. He indulged her in stimulating conversations, enjoying her brilliant mind and encouraging her opinions. The brief education of her childhood intrigued him and he seemed very interesting in her muggle inheritance. Not once had he mentioned her blood status and she felt very special in his presence.
A few months before she found herself imprisoned, everything changed in her relationship with Ronald. They fought constantly due to her daily strolls with Lord Malfoy and they started drifting apart.
And Hermione found herself feeling things she had never felt before.
At the beginning, she was just curious as to why Lord Malfoy seeked her company. She had always loved reading, even though her life with the Weasleys had depraved her of her favorite pastime before she had turned eleven. And Lord Draco Malfoy was a book she very much wanted to read. Every walk with him, allowed her a peak in his brilliant mind and she adored it.
She had also opened up to him as she grew so at ease in his presence. She was curious as to why he seemed amazed by her when she was so plain and poor and muggleborn.
She concluded that he just pitied her but that didn't explain all of his actions towards her. He seemed to genuinely like her and it scared her more than Ronald's "true love". Slowly, Hermione found herself enjoying his company more than she should. He was a good talker and a good listener. He was everything.
And just like that Hermione started dreaming about him at night and daydream about him in the morning.
She could sense his presence and it terrified her. She imagined how her life would be if she lived in his Manor with him or what he would think if her slim figure was wrapped in expensive silks and fabrics and not the rugs she was wearing.
She wanted to smell like the roses in his gardens and for her riotous curls to fall like a silky waterfall down her shoulders and back, just so that he could tangle his elegant fingers in them. For the first time in her life, her vanity as a woman was a priority because she wanted to be beautiful for him.
She stopped oppressing her curls in strict braids and let them loose for the very first time. The pride she felt when Lord Malfoy's eyes lingered upon her curl framed face longer than was appropriate, gave her a sense of satisfaction that she couldn't quite comprehend.
She was blind.
She was dreaming, even hallucinating. She was so lost in her dreams that she forgot her vows to Ronald and his family; the family that had taken her under their wing.
And one day, she allowed Lord Malfoy to take her hand in his, to run his fingers through her locks, to caress the soft skin of her neck and finally to kiss her lips in a way no one had and no one would ever again kiss her.
Hermione was in love.
She had found herself falling in love for the first time and it was scary and all consuming.
Lord Malfoy- Draco, as he insisted, she call him when they were alone- was a very handsome man and experienced in his soft touches and even softer kisses. His presence made her innocent, naive heart skip a beat every time she so much as looked at him. It wasn't the fact that he was handsome and rich that enticed her so. She had never been vain. It was rather his brilliant mind, his passion for his pursuits, his dreams and aspirations that made her swoon.
She completely forgot about Ronald and barely talked to him anymore. She lived in her dreams. Because every night she was dreaming about Draco. About his silver eyes and his white blond hair and his soft thin lips that so softly touched her own behind the rose bushes of his garden.
Every morning, while she did her usual work inside the Manor, she hoped to take a glimpse of him even though she knew that he lived in a different wing than the one his mother- Hermione's mistress- resided.
When they were apart, she longed for their shared evenings in the gardens, for the rare sound of his laughter and the casual uplift of his amused lips whenever she became passionate about something. She longed for his soft touch and his deep kisses that made her heart melt and her knees go weak.
Soon the other servants started talking about her and gossiping. She was called horrid names- beside the usual rude remarks about her blood status- but she barely cared anymore. She was in love for the first time in her life and her mind was clouded. Her inferior status, her abandoned fiancé who loved her, his family that had taken care of her, society's expectations, Draco's sickly and absent wife...
Nothing mattered. Only Draco and her...
Even the magic surging through her veins was stronger in his presence. It was as if their souls were made of the same magical cord. So blindly and ardently in love she was.
So, one day, she made a decision. She would accept him in every way a woman accepted a man. She would invade in his world no matter the cost. She would become his, body and soul, and he would love her always and forever. She believed that in time she would be the only woman in his life. His wife would be forgotten and she would become the lady of both his manor and his heart. He had let her believe that. He had made her believe that with his words and sweet nothings.
Because that was what they were in the long run...
Nothings.
Thank you for reading. If you want to chat and tell me what you think, you can always find me on tumblr as katriafaeyero.
And I would greatly appreciate reading your thoughts in the reviews.
Next update will be next week. Until then...