Chapter Seven:

"Ron."

Hermione gasped and shot up in her bed, the bedsheets crumpling in her fists, as she looked around the room and returned to reality. She sighed and got out of bed, trudged down the stairs of the Burrow and stepped out into the dawn. It was fairly cold and still quite dark, so she shrugged into her cloak before settling down into the dewy grass.

She'd almost seen how her life could have been. A life with Ron, probably a life full of happiness and love and laughter. Maybe kids? Little redheaded toddlers with freckles splattered across their tiny foreheads, playing mirthfully with their uncles and aunts. A full family. Would she get any of that now? The Weasleys were incredibly nice, but they'd soon have their own lives to worry about. Their own children, perhaps. Their own families. Where would she figure in all of that?

"Hermione, I know you don't want to do this, but get in here, will you? I'm not letting you out there without trying my hand at your hair!" She heard Ginny shriek and hurried inside, putting her thoughts to rest. "I'm coming, hold on. Don't do anything drastic though, alright?"

"You know me. Oh don't fret, Hermione, you're going to rival that blonde beauty after I'm done with you." She snorted.

"Hermione, where are- Oh, there you are," Harry peered in from the doorway. "Look, are you sure about this? I could ask McGonagall to talk to Snape, you know. This is really stupid, I don't see why you need to go along with him to-"

"Harry."

"-the Manor, I mean, what is he thinking. I bet there's-"

"Harry!"

"What?"

"I'll be fine." Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's raised eyebrows. "Seriously. It's alright. I'll have to do this sometime anyway, right?"

"I still think I should come along," he muttered.

"Yes I'm sure you'll make merry company," she joked. "Honestly, will you calm down? It's just for a while, you know. I'll be back before you can list down all the ingredients of the Polyjuice Potion."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"I'm being serious."

"Oh alright, then. Just floo me when you get back, will you? If I'm not at the Headquarters, leave me a message or something. And take care of yourself. We want you back in one piece." He winked and left the room.

"Malfoy."

"Granger," he nodded curtly.

"That's... a nice painting," she said, pointing to a portrait of a young girl watching the sunset, her black hair waving with the wind.

"That is Bellatrix. Probably when she was 12."

"Oh."

Merlin, was it awkward. Why, again, had she agreed to do this? Oh right, because her fiancé... She shuddered. He'd said they were practically family. She mentally scoffed. Malfoy would choke her to death if he could get away with it. Okay, maybe not. But he'd never see her as family, that was a given. She wondered why Mrs Malfoy... Narcissa, she corrected mentally, had wanted to meet her. Sure, she seemed to be almost pleasant during lunch, but her husband… Well, he was another story altogether. What had he said? "Do accept my sincere condolences, you must have been quite shaken by Mr Weasley's demise." Did he have a stick up his arse or what? How dare he? Demise. Like he'd passed away peacefully. Like no one had stabbed a knife into his gut and twisted it till she felt she'd die watching. Like he'd not screamed at her in the middle of the battle, that blood-curdling scream that had frozen her in place. Like-

"Granger?"

She'd been clutching at her wand and had gone rather pale. Great, now how was she to explain that?

"Uh, yes? What is it?"

"That's what I asked you. Twice, in fact. Are you alright?"

Of course she wasn't alright. He didn't need to go about and rub it in her face, that cocky… Wait, was he genuinely asking her?

Gingerly, she replied, "Yes, never been better. Why?"

Looking at anything but her, he said, "No, you just looked..." Looked what? Did she look like she was going to be sick? She'd never soil his beautiful, expensive carpet, if that was what he was worried about.

"...like you weren't alright."

Oh. How was she supposed to respond to that? Yes, Malfoy, I'm not alright. I got tortured somewhere around the very spot I'm standing on right now and to make things worse, your father quite pointedly reminded me of the fact that I'm here, alive, and Ron isn't. No, that very well wouldn't do, would it? In any case, she had to say something.

Blurting out the first thing that came to her mind, she said, "So, are you going to marry Parkinson?"

"What?" He growled.

Oops. Clearly that was delicate ground. "Well, not that I believe anything that that woman spews, but Rita Skeeter was quite vocal about how you'd most probably end up marrying her." At his deepening frown, she added, "You don't have to answer that."

"Obviously I don't, Granger. That's none of your business. Would you tell me how you feel about marrying my godfather, who just so happens to be decades older than you?" She was stunned. "I thought so. In that case, keep your nose out of my business and we both can keep our thoughts to ourselves."

Wiser words he'd never spoken, she had to give him that. A few years ago he'd have thrown her an expletive or two, but he'd apparently grown up. He still had a stick up there like his pompous father, but it didn't seem to be as deep in... Urgh, Hermione, what's got into you? Shaking her head, and acknowledging the fact that she'd kick herself over it later, she timidly said, "I feel terrible."

He raised one blonde eyebrow and she continued, "I feel terrible about marrying your godfather, who not only happens to be decades older than me, but also was my Professor at one point of time. It's safe to say he was to me what Professor McGonagall was to you. And the fact that I have no say in this is the worst part. If Ron were alive, I would've-" She ceased abruptly and berated herself mentally.

"Married him?" he asked. She remained silent, afraid that she'd said too much already. "You don't have to answer that."

Honestly, why had she even said that much? It was ridiculous, this whole thing. Maybe she'd had more wine than she'd thought. Yes, that was it. That explained her... Free... Behaviour. Who'd have thought. Oh well, she'd gotten into this now. She'd have to get out of it too.

"You won't understand, Malfoy."

"Try me, Granger."

Argh, that stubborn little brat. Oh well, he asked for it. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye before she replied.

"I- I loved him. I guess I still do. Not in the romantic storybook way, but as a friend. No, more than a friend. As a companion. A partner. Someone I'd share my life with. Make memories with. It's... complicated."

"And I would not understand that because..."

"Have you ever loved someone so much that you'd rather be selfish and let them mourn your death than watch them die? Have you ever wished you could have that one person outlive you so that you'd never feel the pain of living in their absence? You'll marry too, Malfoy, but do you love her? Do you think you ever can? Is it even possible for you to-"

"I'm not incapable, Granger, if that's what you're implying." He snarled and she took a step away from him. "No, I don't love Pansy the way you Gryffindors do, all flowers and chocolates. That's a rather big turn off for me. What do you know about me or about love? How can you say that giving up your life for someone else is love? And where did all that love leave you anyway? You're marrying someone you don't even want to marry. Atleast I don't feel terrible about marrying Pansy. I'd say my situation is better, wands down."

Indeed, where had her love left her? Half dead? A shadow of her old self? She filed that question away for pondering over later, as she followed his gaze to a moving photograph of himself and... was that... one of the Greengrass sisters?

"I'm not comparing us, you know. I'm just calling a wand a wand. You needn't get so defensive, this isn't Quidditch or the House Cup anymore, Malfoy, this is life. You can't think you're better off by comparing one aspect of it and ignoring the rest. I'm not even saying that I know you, or that you should or shouldn't marry Pansy. I'm just saying that if you're doing it because you're expected to do so, then don't. You're going to spend the rest of your life with her, not your parents or Skeeter or anyone else. Keep that in mind. Especially if there's someone else you'd rather be with." She nodded at the photograph, only to receive a frown in return.

"Oh I will, Granger. And before I forget, you're cordially invited to my wedding next week. Let's see who's laughing then. Shall we?" He asked as he offered his arm and led her out, where Snape was just getting ready to leave.

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you for sending in reviews, they really make my day and charge me up to write more. :)

I hope you liked this chapter. The Malfoy-Hermione scene is personally one of my favourites. It's the first time they're meeting under these circumstances, and it lays the setting for their future interactions (there will be quite a few, because I find him very intriguing, so much so, that I wish I'd made this a DMHG fanfic sometimes). They're going to share this give-some-take-some sort of relationship for a while (which I will explain in upcoming chapters) because they're still wary of each other, so it's the only way they'll divulge something about themselves. If you get what I mean. Even if you don't, not to worry. I'll throw some light over it ahead, so keep reading and keep reviewing.

Also, who do you think/wish Draco ends up with? I know I said I'd stick to the story as much as possible, but I also said I'd stay in character. So if I stick to the story, it'll have to be Astoria, but Draco has been raised to obey his parents, so going against their choice would be OOC. Hah, that's a bummer, isn't it? Leave your thoughts. xxx