Chapter 31 – Halcyon
Hermione -almost- regretted her decision to tell Draco about her birthday. He had been acting incredibly suspicious since she had informed him. As they moved through the week leading up to her birthday and Mabon, he had been subtly attempting to extract information from her the entire time such as what was her favorite color and what was her favorite meal. She had been endeared by his effort and obliged to his probing questions.
The morning of her birthday, she woke to bright sunshine and an empty bedside. Chuckling at the vacant cot, she stretched slowly, relishing in the fog that still riddled her brain. She gave the ceiling a sleepy smile and idly wondered what Draco was up to. He had been disappearing on and off throughout the week, shooting her a glance as if to say "you know full well what I am up to" every time she asked Draco where he was heading off to. She assumed it was some grand affair as he had cast several Disillusionment and Notice-Me-Not Charms by the gazebo. She had tried twice to walk towards the structure only to turn back, recalling some menial task to pull her away. On her third attempt, her memory kicked in and she had been avoiding the area ever since.
In the meantime, she helped Draco preserve the final selections of their harvest, set the herbs for drying, researched for the Mabon ritual, and drifted lazily in their small pond before the weather turned too cool. She had noticed the occasionally cool breeze or glimpsed a yellow-tipped leaf, indicating autumn would come soon. With one final stretch, she shifted to the edge of the bed and dressed in a diabolically silky amethyst-colored skirt with a matching tunic. The ensemble came with a matching corset-like girdle that had taken her an agonizingly long time to decipher, but the final effect was quite alluring. It all felt very high-society Romanesque to her, but to Hermione's chagrin and shock, she had grown quite preferential to Narcissa Malfoy's styling preference. The sleeves draped softly and open, attached at the bodice. The entire ensemble had small pearl beads, shimmering softly in the morning light. She had chosen to forego the sandals, opting to enjoy the feel of the Earth beneath her.
She floated down to the kitchen and smiled broadly at the tray Draco had set out for her. He had arranged a lovely little breakfast: freshly cut strawberries, a couple strips of dried wild game, a handful of vine-ripened sliced tomatoes, and a steaming mug of lemon balm tea. She inhaled deeply, the aroma comforting and enticing. She grabbed the breakfast tray and headed to the garden. As she reached the door, a chill crept up her spine and she stumbled. The tray rattled in her grip as the room began to spin. Quickly dropping the platter on a side table, she rushed over to the couch and collapsed. Moaning softly, she clutched her head, willing the room to stop its circular movement. Since she had woken from her magical coma, she had begun to experience severe dizzy spells, which left her exhausted, that were occurring more frequently as the week progressed. Taking several deeps breaths, the room finally began to slow down while her stomach gave a grumble of discomfort.
Looking down at the tray, she recalled the lemon balm tea and hoped it might quell the rising tide of nausea. Half a cup later, the rumbles smoothed out and she felt steady enough to stand. This particular episode had been very unpleasant and to say she was alarmed was an understatement. She didn't know enough about magical maladies to pinpoint the reasoning behind these disorienting attacks. Sighing, she picked up the tray and carefully walked outside. Draco was waiting for her under the shade of the gazebo. Brow furrowed in confusion, she called out to him.
"I haven't been able to see the gazebo all week and it look completely the same!" she cried out, "I've been wanting to sit in the swing you keep going on about, but I see you get to use it without me."
"It's charmed not to reveal until after sundown." He snickered, patting the seat beside him with a bemused expression as she stepped inside, "Sit with me and finish your breakfast. I've got some marvelous things planned for today."
Hermione felt her heart stutter with his words. He had continued to endear himself to her and she was struggling to bury the feelings she felt for him with each passing day. Sometimes he left her breathless with just a single glance, each laden with unspoken words. Every night when he laid down next to, but separate, she wondered if one day they'd share it permanently. Taking a seat beside him, she balanced the tray in her lap and began eating.
As she nibbled on a juicy strawberry, she let her mind wander. It was her birthday after all, why not let loose a little?
Warm sunlight filtered into the kitchen as smells of freshly baked bread filled the cottage. She untied the cotton apron that wrapped over a large belly and wandered over to the stairwell.
"Lyra!" she called up, "Breakfast is ready. Come down and eat before Mummy heads to the village!"
"Coming Mum!" came a lilting voice, "Just finishing up this last chapter!"
Hermione smiled up at the voice, her daughter had taken after her in their shared love of books. She devoured them, almost quicker than her mother. Hermione headed to the door, wrapping her hand around the large brass knob. Yanking it open, she was met with glaring sunshine. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes, she sought out her companion. She found him, standing in the middle of the enlarged garden patch, with a frustrated expression on his face.
"Did Delia get in the vegetable patch again?" she called out, guessing her husband's pained expression.
"She did!" he responded with a bewildered tone in his voice as he threw up his hands in surrender, "I don't know how that bloody goat does it. She's no magical being but she's managed to outsmart every charm I've laid. Darling, has any of your studies ever suggested a goat being impervious to magic?"
She snickered as he pushed back platinum strands with a dirty hand.
"Not that I am aware of." She replied, attempting to stifle her laughter, "Now time to come inside before Lyra eats all of my bread."
He gave a wave of acknowledgment as he cast another charm in an attempt to confuse their ridiculously clever farm animal who had a personal penchant for carrots. Hermione returned to the warmth of their kitchen. A young girl sat perched at the heavy wooden table, carelessly flicking daffodils around in the air.
"No magic at the table." Hermione chided, collecting the floating flowers, and re-arranging them back into the cracked eggshell-colored vase.
"Mum! I'd hardly call that magic!" she protested, her blond curls shaking with her disagreement as her brown eyes rolled, "You use magic all the time!"
"Listen to your Mum, Lyra." A deep voice interrupted as the sound of heavy boots knocked onto the floor, "Her kitchen, her rules."
Hermione smiled conspiratorially. Very rarely did her husband side with her against their clever and doe-eyed child. Despite his constant denial, he was wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born.
"Why thank you my dear husband," she murmured as his arms wrapped around her, laying protectively across her swollen stomach.
"Anything for you, my goddess." He whispered against her cheek, facial hair softly scratching.
She turned around in his arms and lifted up on her toes, their spacing slightly awkward between his height and her eight-month pregnant bump.
"My Draco." She breathed, as their lips met.
"What was that?" a strangely familiar voice cut thru.
"Huh?" she blinked, thrown back to the present and reality.
"You said my name." came a confused response, "Did you need something?"
Hermione shot up, awkwardly grabbing at her finished breakfast tray to keep it from crashing to the ground as a deep flush crept up her throat. A flush she knew was quite visible on her chest as well. Whirling around to hide it, she gave a dismissive wave of her arm followed by a shaky laugh.
"Oh nothing, just getting another cup of that delicious tea." She called over her shoulder as she bolted towards the cottage, leaving a bewildered wizard in her wake.
Draco watched as she desperately clutched the tray and darted away, hair swaying heavily with her movement. He shook his head with a wry smile and returned to his book. However, his thoughts kept drifting to the dreamy smile that had taken over her face as she silently ate the breakfast he had prepared for her earlier that morning. He wandered what daydreams brought her so much happiness and, even more, if those daydreams included him. He shook the thoughts from his mind as she re-emerged from the cottage, holding two steaming mugs. He smiled softly at her thoughtfulness. He hoped his intricate plan for the evening went smoothly.
After finishing the second cup, he stood and held out his hand towards her. She gave him a scrutinizing look and gingerly slid her hand into his. She remained quiet as he led her through the woods towards their swimming hole. However, he had made a small addition to the scene. Using a recently felled tree, he had fashioned a small deck that reached out into the center of the pond. This would allow them to attempt fishing and have fresh fish, protein lacking in their diet. The second piece had been fashioned into a simple wooden swing that rocked gently from a thick branch. She turned towards him with a gasp, a wide smile plastered across her face.
"It's perfect!" she shrieked, skipping towards the wooden seat and seating herself, "Push me Draco!"
He gave an amused chuckle and happily obliged, walking over to gently press against her back. Soon, she was swinging alone, the diaphanous material of her dress flowing with each enthusiastic kick. Her hair wild as her laughter rang out across the pond.
"I think its safe to say this was a gift well-received?" he teased, losing himself in how beautiful she looked, so unburdened and carefree.
"I adore it!" she giggled, her legs pumping back and forth.
He shook his head in amusement and went to the dock and pulled out his transfigured fishing pole. The contraption had been confusing to adjust to wizarding use, but after some research in the many books located in their mini library, he had been able to make an acceptable substitution. The line was charmed to look like bait the moment it was submerged in water and automatically encased any snagged fish in an inescapable bubble to prevent escape. He had been quite delighted to configure that bit of magic. He threw the line into the water and began waiting. Soon, he heard the wooden deck creak as she came to his side.
"I must say, this might be a better present than the swing," she tittered, her hands clasped behind her back in a seemingly innocent stance, "I think the image of Draco Malfoy fishing in a Muggle manner takes the cake."
"It's charmed Granger," he remarked sarcastically, "About as Muggle as a wand."
"Whatever you say Malfoy." She quipped, taking a seat at his side and dipped her feet into the warm water, "Any takers?"
"None if you keep talking." He shushed, giving the rod a shake as if it make a point.
She snorted in reply, leaning back on her hands and closed her eyes into the sun.
"Cast me a Cushioning Charm, will you?" she murmured sleepily, not bothering to wait for his response before she laid down and folded her arms around her midsection.
He silently cast the requested charm and resumed his quiet venture. Nearly an hour passed before he jerked the line out of the water with a scowl of irritation, vowing to adjust the charmed line to be more alluring to these blasted fish. He glanced over to Hermione and her softly snoring form. Smiling, he reached over and moved a curl from her face. The apples of her cheeks were starting to redden. Not wanting her to burn, he trailed a knuckle down the side of her face, speaking softly.
"Wake up Hermione or else you'll burn up like a phoenix." he urged gently, giving her shoulder a nudge.
"Have you ever seen a phoenix burn?" she murmured, squinting in the sun, "Harry says its dreadful to witness."
"Of course, Potter has seen a phoenix burn." He snorted, "Not exactly the most common experience in the world but anything for the Chosen One."
Hermione shot him a withering glare and swatted at his arm.
"You know you two are on the same side right?" she retorted, sitting upright and shielded her eyes from the dipping sun.
"I know, doesn't mean I going to give him preferential treatment." He sniffed, returning her glare with an equally sarcastic sneer.
"Fair enough. Couldn't exactly hope for you two to become close friends." She teased, holding her hands up in mock surrender, "Now was this all you had planned for my birthday? Or is there more?"
"Oh there's much more." He grinned, "Speaking of which, we should be heading back to the cottage. My surprise is charmed to reveal itself at sundown, but I've got one more gift waiting."
She gave him a radiant grin and hopped up from the pond deck. She whirled around and began practically running back to the cottage. Even Draco, on his long legs, had some trouble keeping up with her. He gave a soft chuckle as she called him a "slowpoke" over her shoulder. He may be a slowpoke, he thought to himself, but that meant spending just a little bit more time with her. Time, he feared, would soon be over and she would slip from his grasp.
Hermione bounded into the cottage, her hair wild and grass stains on the hem of her dress. The day had been marvelous so far and she had been positively delighted with the tree swing. The fact that he would create something so simple, yet full of happiness, had made her chest constrict. He seemed to silently understand just what she needed without outright asking. The gift was thoughtful and allowed her a brief escape, a place where she could simply exist. Harry and Ron had always gifted her books. Not that she didn't love receiving books, mind you, but it was a refreshing change of pace.
Draco finally arrived behind her, took one look at her feral state, and gave a delicate snort. She stuck her tongue out in response.
"Wash up Granger and your present will be waiting upstairs afterwards." He instructed with a grin.
She gave a small shriek of excitement and skipped into the bathroom, locking the door with a resounding click. She shed her dusty clothes and took a quick, but scalding shower. After toweling off, she cleared the foggy mirror with a flick of her finger. Staring at her reflection, Hermione was surprised to see the face that gazed back. It felt unfamiliar. Thick, wet ringlets clung to sharp cheekbones while warm, amber eyes scrutinized. Ringed in the darkest of brown lashes, those eyes felt unfamiliar – too ancient for her nineteen years. Rosy spots hung on the apples of her cheeks, likely inflamed from too much sun while thick eyebrows arched sharply. Curved lips murmured softly she catalogued her appearance. It was most certainly Hermione in the mirror, but it appeared a glimmer of Cerridwen's façade had taken claim. Hermione felt like a chimera, an amalgamation of creature rather than witch. The effect was alluring, she had to admit, but rather unsettling to witness nonetheless. Shaking off the disconcerting thoughts, she set to carefully drying her curls. Twisting and braiding, the majority of her curls cascaded down her back. She pulled an upper section into a low twist, held in place with a pale pink ribbon. A couple baby curls escaped, effectively framing her face.
Satisfied with her hair, she gently turned the bathroom door's handle and cringed slightly as the hinges creaked loudly. Peeking around the door jamb, her eyes darted around, searching for Draco. Finding the downstairs empty, she clutched the small towel around her in one hand with her clothes in the other and dashed upstairs. As her wet feet slapped against the wooden stairs, she could barely contain her excitement. Not one, but two presents from him! A swotty voice in her head reminded her that considering his reaction regarding his own birthday, two was hardly an improvement. She scoffed at the voice, internally arguing that his reasoning had been logical despite everything. Reaching the bedroom, she flung the door open and promptly dropped everything.
Hermione stood stark naked, having lost her grip on the towel, at the sight of the stunning gown laid out carefully on the bed. It was dusty blue and was the epitome of simple elegance and romance. It was a frothy concoction of tulle, satin, and embroidery. Below thin straps, the bodice featured a single flounce with a gathered bust and functional sash at the waist. The shirred full sweep skirt with a matching single petaled flounce before flowing airily to the floor. Dark navy floral embroidery glimmered softly in the evening light and Hermione struggled to control the trembling of her lip.
Pushing the door close with a soft push, she walked towards the garment and laid a reverent hand on the remarkable dress. Her breath left in a small woosh as her fingers glided across the delicate fabric. It was exquisite, but not obscene. He had made this lovely thing just for her. Hermione lifted a hand to her breast, the thumping of her heart almost as painful as the massive grin stretched across her face.
Carefully, she slipped the dress on and fixed the thin straps on her shoulder. The hem brushed the ground, but wasn't long enough to make her trip. Tying the sash into a perfect bow at her hip, she padded over to the armoire's interior mirror and admired her reflection. The blue was perfect. It reminded her of the beautiful periwinkle gown she had worn all those years ago. She wondered absentmindedly if he had purposefully chosen that color. She gave a wistful sigh, wishing she had earrings or a delicate necklace to adorn the empty space of the outfit.
Wait! The moonstone brooch!
She clapped in joy and pulled the brooch from it protective box, affixing the lovely thing directly above her heart. She felt the placement might be a little too on the nose, but her heart was full of joy because of him and she knew he'd recognize the subtle meaning behind her action. She gave the dress a final adjustment, took a deep breath, and walked towards the fair-haired wizard who had stolen another piece of her heart.
Draco twirled his wand in an effort to mask the anxiety he felt. He had set out the dress that had taken him nearly the entire week to create. The fabric itself had been relatively easy to manipulate, but the embroidery had proven terribly difficult to meet his expectations. She deserved the best he could offer. He heard a squeak on the staircase causing him to shoot upright in anticipation. As she came into view, Draco felt the air leave his lungs.
He had never seen her look more lovely than the way she looked now. She seemed to glow, wrapped in that beautiful blue he had selected. He had to stifle the urge to bow before her, the distinct feeling of royalty being displayed before him. She quirked a brow at his expression. Quickly recovering, he stepped forward to regard her.
"I think blue might have edged out green as my favorite color." He remarked, giving a mischievous grin.
She blushed and gave a small twirl, the full skirt flaring out around her. A flash caught his eye when she returned to face him. His mother's moonstone brooch. She had worn it. Draco felt his heart crack in intense realization. He wanted to adorn her in all the jewels held deep within the Malfoy vault, but more specifically, he wanted to adorn that single important finger. He knew they had been forced together in this situation and had joked many times regarding their lifetime connection, but in that moment, he knew it was something he truly wanted. He wanted to spend a lifetime with her. He wanted only her.
"You wore the brooch." He croaked out.
"Of course!" she responded brightly, "It works beautifully with the dress. Which is absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much, Draco." Her voice softening as she walked towards him and laid a soft hand on his.
His eyes flew to hers, his mind frozen the moment she touched him. Unspoken words and profound feelings hung between them. He stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her breath hitched and he felt the heat rolling off her body. Reaching up with a slightly trembling hand, his fingers brushed lightly against her cheek as he moved to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. Sighing gently, her eyes drifted shut at his touch. He leaned towards her, the softness and eagerness of her lips beckoning to him. He could feel her breath upon his lips as his fingers threaded deep to cradle the back of her neck, pulling her close.
DING!
Draco jerked away, pulling his hand away as if burnt. She blinked rapidly, obviously confused by the intrusive sound and his sudden movements. Draco cursed himself internally. He had set an alarm to mark the exact moment his final present would reveal itself. He had promised another gift once dusk had fallen and he had been so lost in her that time had slipped from his grip once again. He scowled and gave her an apologetic look.
"What on Earth was that?" she commented, nervously picking at her fingers.
"The reminder of your final gift." He explained, his irritation replaced with a mixture of optimism and dread.
"Another gift?" she exclaimed, "Honestly!"
"Are you saying you don't want it?" he teased, "I can tear it all down. However, that would be such a damn shame."
"Don't be ridiculous!" she objected, playfully slapping his arm, "Of course I want it! I just wasn't expecting this much."
"Granger, you'll find out very quickly that I never act as expected." He bragged, as he offered his forearm for her, "Now I need you to close your eyes or else the surprise will be ruined."
She gave him a look of apprehension before linking her arm around his and shutting her eyes. Draco waved a hand in front of her face to confirm she had truly done as he had asked. Satisfied, he led her outside, reveling in the complete trust and faith she was placing in him. Guiding her to a spot where the entirely of his gift could be appreciated, he let go and took a step back.
"Ok, open them." He urged, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
She gasped at the mesmerizing sight before her. Hermione lifted both hands to cover her gaping mouth as tears sprang immediately in her eyes. It was a bona fide outdoor ballroom that sparkled and dazzled. She felt as if she had been transported into a faerie court of lore. Little shimmering lights blinked softly in the trees, like the glow of fireflies. The gazebo had been transformed into a small-scale version of a conservatory with wrought iron designs and glittering glass panes. Ivy, wisteria, and lilac coiled and draped from every trellis, filling the air with a intoxicating floral scent. She even spotted a couple of marble statues, half-hidden in the dense foliage. She was absolutely thunderstruck by the amount of detail and effort put into the vision of paradise before her.
"You did all this for me?" she, whispered behind her hands, turning slowly towards Draco.
"Yes." He replied simply, as his eyes stormed with an intensity that left her breathless.
"Draco. I don't know what to say. It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen." She breathed, swiping away a tear that escaped.
He stepped forward and brushed away another tear that squeezed from the corner of her eye. Her heart swelled at the tender gesture. His eyes held hers before he spoke.
"Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of a dance?" he requested, holding out his hand.
Without hesitating, she slipped her hand in his with a nod of acquiescence. He led her into the heart of the dream-like gazebo and withdrew the music box she had made for him. Hermione thought her heart might explode out of her chest when he set the box down with the utmost care, gave it a tap with his wand, and turned to stand in front of her. He gave her an unexpected formal bow to which she gave an awkward half-curtsy, suddenly feeling like she was made of several left feet. As the waltz begin to flow out, filling the space around them, he stepped forward and placed a tentative hand on the small of her back. Understanding he was seeking permission, she gave him a nod followed by a wide smile. His eyes brightened at her approval and he tugged her flush against him.
Her breath hitched as her mind went blank at the feel of his body melded against hers. He was so warm and strong, she basked in the way he led for those first guiding steps. At first, she was terrified to lift her head and look directly into his face, the proximity felt too intimate and frightening. He released her for a spin, the embroidery of her dress flaring in the overhead twinkling lights before he expertly pulled her back into his arms. Taking a resolute breath, she looked up and was taken aback by the look in his eyes.
Intense yearning and uninhibited desire. His eyes had darkened to a deep gray, locked on her. The vulnerable depth of his gaze brought a heat to her cheeks and another pang of emotion in her chest. As the crescendo of the waltz rose, he gripped her tighter and they danced with an equally ferocious passion. As the last cymbal crashed and the end of the song echoed around them, he released her hand but did pull away. They stood there as the sounds of evening took over. His hand crept up and cradled her cheek.
"Hermione…" he began, "I know we were forced into this together, but I cannot deny any longer that something true has come from it. I am utterly captured by you and will spend every waking moment of the rest of my life hoping to prove myself worthy of you. Will you accept me?"
"You have been worthy in my eyes for longer than you know, Draco." She replied breathlessly.
His eyes seemed to search hers for some indication that she might take back those words. Finding none, his fingers threaded into her curls and his lips crashed onto hers. Fire seemed to pour from his lips the moment they touched, like the dragon constellation he had been so aptly named from. A blinding light surrounded them, but Hermione was too lost in the demanding strength of his lips. It felt like she was burning with light, electricity, and magic all at once – like she might drown in the weight of it. He crushed her body even closer, fingers digging in. His lips murmured her name over and over, becoming more breathless and tinged with throaty groans. The smoldering sensation suddenly went ablaze as a staggering pulse of magic surged out, blasting them apart. Hermione flew back and all went black.
A high, clear laughed echoed above the two still figures lying in the gazebo. Their bodies glowing with strange symbols. Soon, it whispered. Then all went silent.
Post A/N: I am anticipating the collective "FINALLY!" hear round the world. 31 chapters and y'all got a legitimate-two-bumbling-and-obtuse-dinguses-finally-pulling-their-heads-out-of-the-sand-to-emotionally-connect KISS. Thank you to everyone who has stuck around this far. Don't forget that chapter updates have to shifted to Fridays. Your kind words, comments, reviews, and support have been amazing – you are all wonderful people! - delphicpigeon