Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust.
Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart.
As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember.
Last time:
[Draco]
But Draco screwed it up, tainting the memory. Just like everything else in his life, it was tainted, and went bad. By no fault of his own. She could believe what it appeared to be, if it made her feel better. But it wasn't his fault. Never.
It had hurt Draco that she accused him with the things she did a week after it all went down. He was so hurt, and angry, that he let her think that. His only reaction was to walk away.
Problem was, it wasn't just a nightmare…it had been reality.
Draco slapped his own cheek forcefully. It was in the past. Done with. Over—forever. No use pining away at worthless things.
Let Hermione Granger have her moment.
[Hermione]
She broke into a run, and panted breathlessly when she met with the mahogany door. Hermione whispered the password-like spell, and stepped back, waiting for it to open.
She stepped inside, wringing her hair on the floor. She looked up, smiling. There was one of her pride and joys, Gretchen, her dog. "Hewwo, Gwetchen, baby," Hermione cooed, in a baby-like way.
Stroking the small dog, she walked up the steps to her room.
Hermione grinned even wider at the sight before her.
Chapter One: Secrets Revealed
Draco fell into the luxurious satin chair, with the fireplace roaring before him. He propped up his feet casually.
He pulled his silk black robe, tying it tightly. Was everything he owned silk or satin? Looking around, Draco concluded that this was correct.
Nothing but the best for the Malfoys, he thought slightly sourly.
It was nearing nine, the time of the party. It was still pouring outside, and Draco wished the party could be cancelled.
He wasn't anywhere near in the mood to party, on a night so dreary…much like the day that Hermione confronted him in Seventh Year. After he had let her secret slip.
He imagined bitterly, her kissing that stupid git, Kyle Thompson. Wearing his stupid ring.
Shaking his head, Draco steered his thoughts away from Hermione. There was a party to attend tonight. Many wizards and their friends would be apparating to his manor. Witches would most likely be there, too.
He scowled; figuring Pansy would probably be in his house tonight. After Hermione, Draco was forced back to Pansy…into her filthy, disgusting bed.
Needless to say, Pansy was ecstatic when he snuck into her room that night, and kissed her on the lips. She had giggled endlessly when he held her hand, guiding her to his dorm, which she had seen only once.
Draco snarled, remembering the promise he made to her at the beginning of the year. The one that had haunted him from the night he took Pansy back, to now. The promise that went along the lines of 'The day I come crawling to your bed is the day I fall in love with the Mudblood'.
He sighed, remembering the details of the night as though it were yesterday.
Hermione had been great, truly. Draco never meant that in a pig-like way. He was utterly serious, and knew that it would help his case, and she'd take it offensively.
Draco bit his lip, remembering exactly what had caused him to betray her on the night of her life.
Always—always—someone interrupted every single one of his decisions. Someone he hated dearly.
Lucius.
"DRACO!" a voice boomed, causing a mirror to rattle.
Speak of the devil, there he was!
"Yes, father?" Draco called back, rising to his feet swiftly. "Is it time already? Has anyone arrived?" he asked, strolling towards where Lucius was.
Seeing Lucius, and the back of the person he was with, Draco fell silent.
"Yes, son, someone has arrived. What's your name, sweetheart?" Lucius asked in a fake sugary voice, very obviously sizing the woman up. Draco knew his father had a new target to get into his bed.
The woman turned around, smiling forcefully. It was the witch from Hogsmeade. Picking her words carefully, she said in a dainty voice, "My name is Hope Woods."
Draco nodded, picking up her hand. Smirking at his father, he lifted up her hand to his lips, and kissed it. "Draco Malfoy, as I'm sure you already know."
The witch nodded. She was very obviously faking the pleasant act. "Of course. Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," he replied. "Er, if you don't mind me asking…who are you supposed to be here with?"
"Kyle Thompson," she answered swiftly, smiling kindly. "I assume you know of him? Judging, of course, only by the way you clench your jaw and fists," Hope added, eyeing his body with a smirk.
Draco nodded tersely. "Yes. I went to school with Thompson," he gritted out.
Fabulous. He was going to spend the entire night knowing that Kyle Thompson would be in his house. Bloody brilliant.
The one wizard who—as far as Draco knew, anyway—had come even remotely close to a meaningful relationship with Hermione.
Hope smiled again. A smile that was quite suspicious to Draco, but he merely brushed it off. He planned on making the best of little time he had with the beautiful mystery woman.
He led her away from Lucius, and turned to her in the empty room. "You were at Hogsmeade today, weren't you?" Draco asked, crossing his arms.
"Mm, brighter than you seem," the witch quipped. "Yes, I was."
Draco sneered, not quite enjoying her attitude towards him. "What have you got against me, Hope?"
She shrugged. "A lot of things that I'd rather not go into right now," Hope replied smugly, turning his smirk against him. "After all, this is going to be a party, is it not?"
"Yes, it should be," Draco responded, turning to the bar. "Would you care for a drink?" he asked, pouring himself some random wizard alcohol.
Hope shrugged. "Why not? I'll have the same as you," she added. "What a lovely home…"
"What, Thompson doesn't have an enormous manor?" Draco scoffed, putting the cap on the bottle. "How surprising."
"Of course he does," Hope snapped, looking irate. "Look, just give me the bloody glass."
Although in normal cases, Hope's behavior would be off-putting, Draco had to admit there was some appeal to a woman with attitude. He didn't tell her this, of course, and continued to pretend she annoyed him as well.
"So where is Thompson, anyway? With a witch as pretty as you are, I'd think he'd be eager to be here on time. Married?" Draco asked, eyeing her fingers carefully.
His suspicions were confirmed when he saw no telltale ring. Unless, of course, she accidentally left it at her lovely home.
"Not quite," Hope answered, gripping her glass lightly. "You do realize, of course, that his name is Kyle?"
He waved her off. "Yeah, yeah. He's Thompson, I'm Malfoy. I'm surprised you didn't know that."
He leaned against the bar, raising the glass to his lips slowly. He had one hand gripping the counter for balance, the holding the glass, obviously.
"Don't be full of yourself, Draco. Kyle has better things to talk about than you," Hope snipped, smiling innocently.
"We'd hope, wouldn't we?" Draco retorted, unfazed. "I would most certainly be a tad disturbed if that wasn't the case."
"Are you always this charming?" Hope asked, raising an eyebrow.
Detecting sarcasm, he scowled. "No, I'm lowering my standards just for you. Wouldn't want you falling in love with me when you're tied down to another wizard, after all," Draco added slyly.
"No, Merlin forbid," she murmured softly, finishing off her glass. Rising, she placed down her drink. "Kyle will be here any minute, I'm afraid. I'd love to stay and chat…but we can't have you falling in love with an unavailable witch, can we now?"
Touché, Draco thought, smiling inwardly. He loved her attitude.
~*~
Hope Woods stood alone outside, wringing her hands nervously.
"Where in the bloody hell is he?" she whispered to the dark night sky. Gazing up at the stars twinkling brilliantly in the sky, she added, "I'm dying here!"
Hope grinned when she felt arms wrap around her waist. "Not now," she scolded. "I know I told you to make this—"
But she cut herself off when she turned and saw a shock of platinum blonde hair. "Draco!" she hissed.
Draco smiled alluringly. "Expecting anyone else?"
She sighed, frustrated. "Kyle should be here any second, I'd suspect!" she whispered loudly, panic creeping into her voice.
Mistake #1. Never let a Malfoy know he's gotten to you. Never give him that little inch of power.
Shouldn't she have learned that by now?
Hope scolded herself for letting herself do that. "Sod off, I'm waiting for my date!"
Draco let go, holding his hands up in surrender. "Whatever you want," he mumbled, turning to go back to his manor.
Blast it all, he has to use that stupid puppy look, Hope thought, biting her lip. Indecision had wrapped around her, engulfing her mind.
No, don't call him back. You need to talk to Kyle alone, her mind reminded her. Get it together.
Hope stood rooted to the ground, stone-faced.
"Hey!…Er, Hope," a voice said haltingly from behind her.
She turned around, finally able to smile. She threw her arms around Kyle, embracing him. "Finally," she sighed, resting her head on his strong shoulder.
"Everything alright?" he asked, concerned. "Did Malfoy do anything? Did he figure—"
Hope held up her hand, causing Kyle to halt mid-sentence. "No, thank Merlin, he hasn't figured anything out. It's just…well…It's still painful," she finished, looking down at the manicured lawn.
Kyle patted her back. "It'll be ok."
"Right." Hope nodded, self-reassuringly, and looked up at Kyle. "Now, remember…when we go into the party, we're a couple. On the verge of marriage," she added, chewing on her lip. "Yeah. Deeply in love, nothing can separate us."
Kyle nodded, too. "Got it. Especially in front of Malfoy, right?" he asked, holding back disdain.
"Definitely. Him, especially," Hope agreed fervently.
"I still have no idea why we're doing all of this for him…Hope."
"Because, Kyle, I want to show him I'm not missing anything," she explained again, picking at a nail.
He grabbed her hand to stop the action. "But he doesn't know who you are. And you are missing stuff. He's all you think about now, and you know it!" Kyle reminded her.
"Well…Bugger, just let me have my moment, Kyle!" Hope hissed, looking upset.
"Ok," Kyle relinquished. "Fine, I'll still do it."
~*~
Draco sat broodingly on his favorite chair, refusing to socialize. To hell with Lucius, and his family ideals. To hell with them all.
He had just glanced at a calendar and had realized what tonight was. It was the five-year anniversary of the night that had changed the entire course of his life.
Draco remembered with great detail how he had come around to leaving Hermione in the dust that night.
~*~ Flashback ~*~
Draco was shaken awake by a harsh force.
"Get the hell up," a malicious voice sneered, whacking his head.
He sat up, undraping his arm tenderly from around Hermione. Draco's eyes widened with terror and fear when he realized just who was jolting him awake.
"Father," he acknowledged in a shaky voice.
Lucius Malfoy tossed him his Slytherin robe, scowling. "Put this on, and get the hell out of here. Follow me, we must speak."
Draco slipped on the robe, and followed with quaking feet. He was being led back to his room.
Lucius said the password to Draco's room, but Draco didn't question how his father knew it.
Lucius promptly slapped his cheek forcefully, shoving him down on the bed. "Is this how you think a Malfoy goes about?" he hissed.
Draco stared blankly, his cheek stinging. "What are you talking about, sir?"
"The mudblood!" Lucius barked, slamming his fist down on the nightstand. He watched triumphantly—like Draco had earlier in the year—when the picture of Draco and Narcissa went tumbling to the floor with a crash once more.
Only this time, Narcissa was fearful, and clamped a hand over little photo Draco's mouth.
"Sir, it was only…just a…" he trailed off, unable to find a good excuse. "Just for pleasure, father," he finished lamely, wincing.
"Yes, well, if you just wanted 'pleasure', Pansy Parkinson is more than fitting," Lucius growled, gripping Draco's wrist forcefully.
"But, father, Pansy is nothing but a stupid sl—"
He was cut off before he could finish saying 'slut'.
"Slytherin pureblood," Lucius finished, instead. "A rather talented one, if the rumors I hear are true," he added, smirking.
Draco shuddered, not wanting to know what his father was thinking about Pansy. Probably the same dirty things Draco had when he was younger.
"Now," his father began harshly, "you will wake up this Parkinson girl, and you will apologize for leaving her. Then, you will do to her what you did to that mudblood tonight, and you will enjoy it. Forget about Granger, son. She's nothing but trouble, and will only taint our name."
"Y-yes, father," Draco stuttered, clambering out of bed. "Of course."
With that, he left, trembling in fear, to bring back Pansy.
~*~ End Flashback ~*~
Draco let a low guttural growl escape his throat. He had been so weak then. But no more.
~*~
Hermione plopped onto her bed, exhausted. Then night had been long and trying for her.
Smiling, she turned to the right, tilting her head lovingly.
There was Carrie, her means for life. Carrie, her first daughter.
Yes, that's right, daughter. Hermione knew Harry and Ron would flip, if they knew she wasn't the innocent young witch they had thought she was.
Yes, it had been rather difficult to hide it, but thank Merlin for witchy products.
Hermione remembered the day she had found out she was carrying a child. It was perhaps the scariest moment of her entire life.
She recalled her every thought, the expression poor Madam Pomphrey had made when she found out the news.
~*~ Flashback ~*~
Hermione sat eagerly on the edge of the bed, waiting to find out what was wrong with her.
She smiled, remembering the concern Harry and Ron had expressed when she showed symptoms of some sort of illness.
"Madam Pomphrey?" she called to the mediwitch, anxiously awaiting the moment when she could get the medicine, and leave.
"J-just a second," Madam Pomphrey yelled back, her voice faltering.
About a minute later, she came bustling into Hermione's line of vision, a frown etched onto her face. "Ahem, Miss Granger…" she began, twisting her hands.
"Yes?"
"Er, have you…goodness, this seems like a mistake…Dearie, have you been sexually active?"
Hermione swallowed. "Excuse me?"
"Hermione. Have you been sexually involved?" Madam Pomphrey repeated, with a nervous chuckle.
Hermione knew why there was disbelief in her voice. The nurse thought there was no way innocent little Hermione would ever do something so rash without thinking it through.
Oh Gods, Hermione thought, a lump forming in her throat. This can't be happening. We were…I made sure…Protection! We used it!
"Y-yes, ma'am," Hermione stuttered, suddenly finding the floor to be the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Oh Merlin, I don't believe it," the nurse murmured, looking with disappointment at Hermione.
It killed her, that an adult would even consider looking at her like that. Like she had done the most horrible thing in the universe.
Hermione licked her lips, miserably anticipating the inevitable.
"Well then…I suppose it isn't a mistake. You're pregnant, Miss Granger."
'You're pregnant, Miss Granger'. Those were the four foulest words in the world. The four words that impacted her life in the biggest way. Aside from 'I slept with Malfoy', of course.
Malfoy.
Oh Gods, what am I going to tell Draco? Hermione thought, panicked. I can't tell Draco this! I won't. He's out of my life; he made that much clear… she concluded, frowning.
It would punish the baby; there was no doubt in her mind. And nothing could kill her more than punishing an innocent, refusing it it's father.
Well, at least that's what Hermione thought would kill her most. Until she heard herself whisper, "Is there a way to…get rid of it?"
The second those words escaped her mouth, she blushed with shame, and clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
"Hermione?" Madam Pomphrey asked incredulously. "Well, yes…if you're sure it's what you want…It's risky, though."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."
"Er, you may go now…I s'pose. Best-best of luck," Pomphrey stammered, a tear filling her eye.
One good student down, Hermione thought for her.
Once out the door, Hermione formed her own tears. She walked through the school in a daze, ignoring everything around her. It wasn't hard, considering how much sounds and figures blurred into nothingness.
She mourned that day. Mourned for chances lost. For a lover gone. Mourned for her young freedom…and for a love ended badly.
Hermione vaguely felt a concerned hand on her shoulder at one point, but she shrugged it off angrily, answering to no one.
It was at the end of her waterworks that she decided firmly that in no way, shape, or form was Draco Malfoy to find out he was the father of her unborn baby. It was then that she decided that no one besides the staff should know she was pregnant. Not Harry, not Ron. No one.
~*~ End Flashback ~*~
Hermione Granger picked up her daughter, trying with all her might to forget the day that she had felt so lost, and indecisive.
She was here now, with her daughter, stronger than ever. And she didn't even need Draco to help her get there.
Liar, her mind argued.
She had used Draco in a way. She used his foul memory to be able to claw her way back up. To prove to him she didn't need him. Hermione had to admit his signature in her yearbook definitely helped her get there.
Draco Malfoy. To this day, his stupid, aristocratic name still left a bitterness in her mouth. Stupid prat.
Leaving her high and dry, with shattered dreams, and an unborn child. With one more secret to guard with her life. Did he have any idea what that did to her? It gave her a total of two secrets that could ruin her friendships with Ron and Harry. Two secrets to possibly destroy any sort of meaningful relationship she may ever have!
Hermione knew if she ever happened to get involved with a wizard and told him—or worse, he found out—that she had not only slept with Draco Malfoy—possibly the cruelest, richest young wizard out there—but had his child as well…the poor man would run away, and never look back.
Which was perhaps why Hermione had turned away every single guy who ever expressed interest in her. She just wasn't ready for a life of secrets.
She remembered with a smile when she found in a library, a catalogue of stuff for pregnant witches. Namely, pregnant witches who didn't want anyone else to know. She owed that company her life.
~*~
Carrie squeaked with delight, clapping her hands at Gretchen. The dog squirmed, unhappy at being discovered.
"Carrie, let go of Gretchen," Hermione ordered warily, brushing her long curly hair.
Carrie pouted, pushing the dog away. "But I wanna play!" she exclaimed in a tiny voice. "I wuv Gwetchen!"
"Sweetie, don't talk like that. You're old enough to pronounce it properly. You aren't a baby, are you?" Hermione scolded, sighing.
"Bwush my hair!"
"Say it correctly."
"Bwush…brush," Carrie said finally, admitting defeat.
Hermione grinned triumphantly at her daughter, and picked up the pink brush Carrie had demanded be bought. "Come here, you!"
Carrie giggled, and waddled over to her, still determined to act childish.
Hermione pulled the brush through her daughter's hair, feeling nostalgia wash through her.
Draco had that hair. Draco had the pale, piercing eyes. Draco had that sharp, refined nose. Draco had the scowl and smirk Carrie loved using so much.
There was a sharp knock on the door, and Hermione froze. "Sweetie…go to your room, and stay there. Please? I'll give you a nice cookie," she bribed her.
Carrie scowled (there it was!), and crossed her arms stubbornly. "No."
"Please, sweetie? I'll buy you something!"
At this, Carrie perked up, but walked to her room, pouting.
Sighing, Hermione noted that Carrie had inherited her stubborn quality from both Hermione and Draco.
She swung open the door, biting her lip. Her eyes widened at the sight of the person in front of her.
Dammit. Busted.
~*~
A/N: So, the first official chapter! How'd you like it so far? Just from the prologue, which hardly divulged anything, I got 20 or so reviews! I was shocked, lol. Shocked…but pleased. That was cool…
So onto you guys. I feel so proud of you! One reviewer, Snapegirl, guessed Hermione's secret, lol. Not surprising, but nevertheless…And some of you delved deeper into the reason behind the name…good job, hehe. One person even ventured a guess as to who the mystery woman is! Lol, but as you can see…she SEEMS harmless…meh.
I lurved the fifth HP book, although a bit disappointed in the death. I liked that person… :-(
So, have fun, read some stuff, and review!