CHAPTER 32
October 14th 2001
Hermione Granger had never felt more weak in her life than when she had tried to put jeans on for the first time in two weeks. Her arms ached as she struggled to pull the denim material over her legs, only to throw the trousers across the room and groan in frustration.
Malfoy snickered at her irritation over by the closet.
"Shut up." She hissed at him. "You have never worn a pair of jeans in your life, it is a lot harder than it looks."
"Oh, I am sure it is."
He turned and pulled a long pale blue dress from the back of the closet. Hermione frowned at the item, forgetting that she had even packed it. Malfoy walked over and laid it down on the mattress beside her.
"You should wear this." He suggested, grabbing a coat to match the attire. "You look nice in blue."
"When have you ever seen me wear blue?" She questioned with a grin on her face.
"When you gave me my birthday present. You wore that exact dress."
Hermione couldn't help but blush at his memory. That was the day that they were attacked at his house, and ended in cleaning his wounds.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
"Turn around." She twirled her finger as he twisted to face the wall.
Lifting her shirt up over her shoulders, she slowly stood up off the bed. Over the past few days, her and Malfoy had been focusing on her physical therapy. Even replacing television time for going on walks. Her balance had improved quickly, and was now able to stand up on her own.
Funny how fast you can recover when a dark curse is stripped from your body.
As Hermione slipped the dress on, she watched Malfoy patiently wait for her word to turn back around. His figure had gotten slimmer over their stay at the cottage, with shoulders being less toned than they used to be. She guessed that was the price to pay for sitting around for days on end, waiting on your friend hand and foot.
"Okay, I am done."
He turned around and gave a small smile to her new appearance. A change from her usual boxer shorts and oversized t-shirts.
"I-uh-I need your help with the buttons." She mumbled.
Malfoy did not hesitate to saunder over to where she was standing and lift her long curls off her shoulders. His freshly minted breath tickled Hermione's neck as his fingertips tenderly tightened the buttons along her back.
It was clear that she had lost weight too from how loose the material was against her frame. The realistion made her think of a wedding dress that was being crafted in a distant French boutique that Ginny had insisted on utilising.
"I think I may have to get my wedding gown altered." Hermione spoke quietly as he continued playing with the material behind her.
"Because of the weight you've lost?" His raspy voice close to her ear.
"Because of my skin." She bent her head in shame. "I doubt anyone would like to see a bride with such prominent scars. It would be quite a daunting display."
The last button clipped but Malfoy remained standing as her shadow.
Hermione swallowed. She was unsure of what he was going to say next, afraid he would agree with her self insulting comment.
"People will watch you in awe, Granger. No matter the number of scars on your skin."
Swiveling on her feet, she faced him, careful not to put too much weight on one leg and crumble. She did not realise how close he was standing, until her brown orbs met his silver. Hints of vanilla and cinnamon floating around them.
"I wish you were going to be there." Her eyes drawn to his lips and back up again. "I do not know if I will be able to get through it all without you."
"You will be having too much fun to notice my absence, Granger."
Fun was not necessarily the word she would have chosen to describe the atmosphere of her wedding day. Daily Prophet feeding frenzy seemed more appropriate. Malfoy noticed the dread in her stance and rubbed her arms to compensate for the days where he would not be there in December.
A small gesture to appease the uneasy witch.
Not half an hour later the two were steadily walking along the country road into town. Both having opted for ginger hair as their disguises today. A laugh that brought them both to tears.
Hermione clutched onto Malfoy's arm for support.
"I can see why you enjoy walking here everyday." She praised while looking out onto the green pastures. "A pity you cannot escape my company anymore, though."
"It is a shame." He shook his head. "I so loved not hearing your voice for an hour a day."
A scrunch of her nose triggered him to let out a small laugh.
"No, I am just joking. Your company has elevated to be rather enjoyable, Granger."
"It is okay, Malfoy. Soon we will find your father, and you no longer have to make me a cup of tea every morning. Or cook me dinner, or help me shower, or even watch muggle television."
Her mouth opened in a wide sarcastic smile, he gently pushed her face away, scoffing at the teasing ways.
Stepping into town, a crowd of young children ran past the pair. Their youthful giggles were a darling sound as they chased one another down the pebble streets.
Hanging at the back of the group of friends, was a curly haired boy with a book practically pressed to his face. It was clear, he was too enveloped by the novel to notice the other children playing games.
Hermione smiled as the boy finally looked up from his page and scurried to catch up with the others.
"Like looking in a mirror, eh?" Malfoy nudged.
"He will go far in life." She said sternly, confident in the influence of books on a child's life.
The two wandered around town for an hour with their Weasley-like disguises keeping them from the attention of the wizarding world.
Malfoy showed Hermione all the stores that he usually goes to for their daily need in food or medicine, as well as guiding her back to the stalls she visited on their first day here. It was a nice outing but eventually the witch's legs got too tired and she started to fade.
A hot cup of tea, sat by the fireplace was called upon as a peaceful substitute for the dreary afternoon.
"Your hair has gotten awfully long." Hermione commented, drinking the final quarter of her cup. "We have been here for barely a fortnight and you can already slick it back."
"My deepest apologies, Granger. I am afraid my barber is rather out of reach right now. Feel free to do the job for him if you hate it so much." He barked back in a playful tone.
"You know what?" She slowly rose to her feet. "I will."
Malfoy grabbed her hand. "Sit back down. I was not being serious."
Hermione shoved him off and began her uneasy walk to the kitchen. "I do not care, I want to do it now that you've put the idea in my head."
A few slower than usual minutes later, she came back with a pair of transfigured cutting scissors and a comb.
"Sit on the floor." She puffed out of breath. "I will cut it from the couch."
Malfoy grunted, knowing he would not be able to convince her out of it, and sat on the yellow shag rug in between the witch's legs.
"I hope you have done this before." He spat.
Her fingers through his messy white hair. "When you have been on the run with boys, and happened to be engaged to the lazier of the two, you tend to learn how to cut hair."
Malfoy bent his head down and let her play with his hair, only flinching when she got near his ears.
It was not necessarily the best tidy up that she had ever given, but Hermione found herself more nervous than she had ever been when with Harry or Ron. Her hands had a small shake in them, anxious that they would betray her.
But by the end result, Malfoy looked relatively similar to how he used to look at work. Strikingly good-looking with a hint of ruggedness. His new beard that had grown endorsed the latter half of that description.
Hermione blew the excess trimmings off his neck with pursed lips, and watched as he shivered at her breath against his skin.
Finally, he was the vulnerable one to her touch for once.
"Done." She murmured in a hushed volume.
"Do I look atrocious?" Malfoy asked, turning around and looking up at her.
Hermione smiled down at him, "Never."
Hours later, the blond wizard and his new hairdo were cleaning up the dishes of their roast he had made for them. Hermione was sat outside on the porch swing with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, reading the copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz he had bought for her.
Her stomach ached from how much food she had just inhaled.
Malfoy had gotten rather good at cooking during their stay. It kept his mind alive while staying trapped in the small cottage tending to her every need.
"How does that muggle author know of this Oz wizard?" His low voice startled her as he stepped out onto the porch to join her.
"He doesn't." She patted the seat next to her.
He took his seat with a confused expression. "Care to elaborate?"
"Well," She took a deep breath, "The story follows a young girl named Dorothy who is swept up in a cyclone with her dog, Toto and lands in the magical land of Oz. In order for her to get back she follows this yellow brick road to get to the Emerald city to meet The Wizard. Dorothy meets creatures like a scarecrow, who needs a brain, a lion, who needs courage, a tin man who needs a heart and an evil witch. I won't spoil anything but it's essentially about the idea of home."
Malfoy raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. "That sounds terrible, Granger. Who would read that idiotic storyline?"
"Children." She punched his arm. "You need to read the book in order to understand it."
"I would rather watch a muggle movie."
Hermione's face lit up, a wide toothy grin spreading across her face.
"Oh Merlin," Malfoy pinched his nose. "Do not tell me there is a muggle film about that rubbish."
"Possibly…Do not fret, I will not make you watch it."
"Good."
The witch and wizard sat together on the hanging swing and stared out into the distant stormy night sky. It wasn't until the lightning strikes over the hills disappeared that they decided to call it a night and head in.
Hermione had been able to stand on her own in the shower for the last two days, freeing Malfoy from having to help her clean. He would now sit in his room and waited until she was done to assist her in getting out of the wet tub.
The water was alarmingly warm as it ran down her scarred back. Thanks to the healing paste, the wounds had been able to close and give some of her mobility back. But the boiling rainfall tended to ease the ache that still lingered.
As Hermione reached for the body wash on the edge of the bath, one of her legs gave way and sent her toppling down with a crash.
Heavy footsteps thudded against the wooden floor boards as Malfoy came running into the bathroom. Luckily, a curtain between his vision and her body.
"Granger?! Are you alright?" He yelled over the noise of the shower stream.
Hermione coughed, winded by the impact of her fall. Her wet hair clung to her forehead as she looked around at the position she had gotten herself in.
"Granger?!" Malfoy bellowed again.
A hysterical laugh uncontrollably seeped through her lips. Belly chuckles pouring out of her mouth while trying to stand back up, only to slip again and make her cackle harder.
"I am alright." She spoke through ah-ha's. "I just fell over."
"Do you need help?" He asked, while curling his fingers around the shower curtain.
"No, no. I am okay. I'll get back up."
"Positive?"
"Positive."
Hermione contained her laughter and steadily pushed herself up off the floor of the tub. Completely dismissing the body wash and focusing on the balance of her legs.
She dreaded the day that Ron would have to see her like this. It almost felt like the final straw between them.
After a few minutes of self pity, Hermione turned the taps off and grabbed the towel that Malfoy was already handing her through the curtain.
"You are a disaster, you know that?" He informed her, with assistance out of the shower.
"More than you will ever know." She sighed.
Hermione gripped onto Malfoy's arm as she took staggered steps along the hallway in her fresh pyjamas and wand blown dry hair. The walk earlier today had helped her gain some confidence back, but it had left her feeling exhausted.
"Those children were very sweet today." She spoke, straining her voice to talk and walk at the same time. "I wonder if any of them are undiscovered witches or wizards in the making."
Malfoy snickered, as he guided her to the bedroom. "The boy with curly hair and a book in his hand is no doubt a wizard. A Granger wannabe, if I have ever seen one."
"He has a big storm coming for him if he is."
Hermione sat on the edge of her grandmother's mattress and watched Malfoy strip his shirt and trousers off with ease as he walked to his side of the bed. A normality that was crossing lines they were both aware of.
"Do you ever think about having children?" She asked, slipping under the blankets.
"Not entirely." He echoed her actions. "I suppose it has always been an expectation from my family that I would need to have a son, in order to carry on the Malfoy name. But I would not know how to raise a child out of love, my parents lacked in that area."
"Do you think Astoria will want to have children?"
"Why do you care so much about Astoria so much lately?" He asked, a tinge of aggression on his tongue.
"I do not know." She shrugged. "Just a question."
"We haven't spoken about it."
Silence was heavy after his response, feeling an overwhelming number of thoughts pass her mind of her final argument with Ron, the week after the quidditch match.
"What is really on your mind, Granger?" He asked, knowing her too well.
"Ron…" She swallowed, feeling her throat tighten. "I have not told you this but, I cannot have children. And I think Ron doesn't love me anymore because of it."
Malfoy shifted his head on the pillow to face her. Hermione kept her eyes over his shoulder out the window, listening to his shallow breaths in the daunting silence.
"I am sorry you cannot have children, Granger... But, Weasley loves you, I am sure of it." He whispered with certainty.
Hermione's nose started to ache as she compressed her sorrow. Lips quivered, and teeth clenched, she fought off the tears that welled in her lashes. Hopeful that the dark night concealed his view of the destruction.
"Would you?" She spoke without her own permission. "Would you love me? If I couldn't have children. If I couldn't gift you an heir."
Even in the shadows, Hermione could see out of the corner of her eye Malfoy's sullen face. Like he was disgusted by the idea of a muggle-born being the mother of his children.
He turned his head to face the roof again. Silence and cold sheets swimming between them.
"I would love you." He breathed into the darkness. "Unconditionally."
Hermione let a hot tear roll down her cheek. It dripped at the end of her ear and onto the white pillow beneath. A stain of her desolation.
She wished that only what he spoke was true, and not just a tack to make her feel better. Knowing Malfoy, he just said that to prove that he was better than Ron, even in regards to hypothetically loving his fiance.
They both stared into the empty room, unaware of their burning desire to be closer to one another. Hermione twisted her forgotten engagement ring around her finger, reassuring herself it could still be lifted off if need be.
"After the quidditch match last month, we got into an argument." She sighed with a stabbing chest. "It was built up, but overdue. He said that if he had known we would never be able to have a family, then he might not have proposed."
Malfoy sat up onto his forearms, the sheet dropping low to reveal his pale chest. Hermione lifted her head to face him as he deepened his frown looking down at her in pity. In the moonlight, his lips were such a strong tone of pink, puffed from disbelief.
"Is this what love is supposed to feel like?" She filled the void of his missing voice.
"No." He replied instantly.
Brown orbs looked into silver. Desperate for more.
"Have you ever been in love?"
Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but stopped to look away and clench his jaw. It was like he was fighting to not tell her the truth.
"Yes." He eventually answered, bringing his eyes back to meet hers.
Hermione started to scan through the possibilities of witches that the infamous playboy could have fallen in love with. The only reasonable chances were Pansy Parkinson or Astoria Greengrass. Both manipulative women that had him wrapped around their dainty fingers.
"Did it hurt this bad?" She trembled, afraid of what his answer might be.
"Excruciating."
Malfoy shifted under the sheets to lay down on his side at the centre of the bed. Hermione flipped over to mirror his position. Only a few centimeters keeping them apart.
He brought his hand out from under the blanket and grazed his thumb against her cheek, wiping the dampness under her eyes. A breath escaped before he slowly gripped her jaw, drawing her closer and firmly pressed his lips against her forehead. Her heart skipped a beat at the touch, taking comfort in the consolation.
Malfoy kept his mouth to her brow for a shorter time than she wanted. Her skin felt lonely the moment he pulled away and rested his chin on her top of her head.
Eyelashes fluttered against his neck. It took everything in her to not kiss his throat in return. To take a leap that would only land in rejection.
It was the desire to kiss someone else so badly that caused the floodgates to open. Hermione's chest heaved in cries as she let out a choke and covered her hands on her face. Tears leaked through her fingers and dripped down to her knuckles.
Malfoy pulled himself closer to her body, cautious of not touching her back and holding her under her arms. Hermione hated how much she loved his embrace, how much she wanted to twist their legs together and never let go.