Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 26-The Wrath of Pansy
By Marmalade Fever
Hermione couldn't find the bathroom. She had been tossing and turning in her enormous new bed for the last few hours, trying to get to sleep. Inevitably, not sleeping meant that her mind focused on other things, like a full bladder. So she had gotten up and left her bedroom, closing her door softly behind her, making sure not to wake Draco, who was asleep in the next bedroom. But now of course she couldn't find the bathroom anywhere! She had brushed her teeth in a sink in her bedroom. Somehow, in the darkness, everything Draco had said while giving her that tour had gone out the window. With the exception of the last few hours, she hadn't been here since Boxing Day, and it was now April... 3rd. Yes, it was April 3rd. It was early morning by now. Hermione wracked her brain trying to find the bathroom in which Draco had gelled her hair all those months before. She was quite certain that it was somewhere on the first floor.
Hermione made her way, almost blind, through the darkness. She had her wand lit but was still having difficulty navigating her way to the staircases. The place was huge! And this was only the baby version of the Malfoy Manor... How had Draco ever made his way around as a child? She had tried countless doors already and hadn't found anything close to resembling a loo. She had been just about ready to resign, find Draco's bedroom, and just ask, when she noticed a glimmer of light coming from underneath a door. Odd, Hermione thought, as she went to investigate.
"What are you doing up?" Hermione asked as she peeked her head into the room to find Draco intensely reading a note. This room, apparently, was an owlery, with a table and chairs to compose letters at.
The look of concentration broke on Draco's face as he smiled at her. "Pansy's threatening you, darling!" he said with a chuckle, he and threw the note at her.
Hermione picked it up and glanced at it. Big, loopy letters in purple ink, very Pansy.
Draco, my love,
I've been paying the utmost attention to your... marital status... and have finally come up with a plan to get you out of your predicament. I know you left Bellover at the altar Sunday. I don't blame you. Intellectual types are sooo last year. And I know that leaves you with just the mudblood, which is doubly, if not quintuply, horrid. So I've come to a decision. I'm going to divorce Bradley! And if he refuses I still know a good poison or two that should do the trick. Well dear, what do you think? Meet me at your south tower at five AM. Okay? And don't tell anyone. If I have to resort to plan B... well, you know.
Love with all my heart,
Pansy (soon to be Malfoy) Bludwurm
P.S. If the mudblood is still bothering you, I have some extra poison!
"Is she for real?" Hermione asked, looking up and giving Draco a sympathetic look.
"Unfortunately, the Parkinsons have a long line of apothecaries in their family, so she probably does have plenty of poison at her expense."
"Quintuply isn't even a word," Hermione said, moaning. She yawned.
"Did I wake you?" Draco asked, realizing abruptly that they were having a conversation in the wee hours of the morning.
"No, I was trying to find the bathroom..." Hermione said. "Er, where is it, exactly?"
"Two doors down and on your left." Draco laughed as Hermione ran for the door. She returned two minutes later, looking more concerned about Pansy's letter and less preoccupied.
"So, how are you going to break the news to her?"
"Well, I was thinking I might send a house elf in my place, but that seemed a bit cruel."
"Oh, come on, she did threaten me with poison!"
"I meant to the elf." They exchanged glances and laughed. After a moment, Draco looked thoughtful. "We could leave her a note. You can help me write it, if you want." He smiled at her. She smiled back.
"Alright, but only if you let me gloat!" They sat down and Draco pulled up his ink well, which had already been sitting open on the table in front of them. Draco began to write first.
Dear Mrs. Pansy Bludwurm,
Thank you for your concern; however, there is no need for you to leave your husband. First off, the Malfoy Marriage Contract does not discriminate between the divorced, married, and widowed, so you would not qualify under any circumstance. Secondly, even if circumstances were different, I would never wish to marry you. I'm unsure of how you remember our brief courtship, but you absolutely disgusted me. We kissed once, and I have vowed never to let that happen again. Third, and probably most importantly, I am currently married to the girl you so quaintly referred to as "the mudblood." Let me assure you, she is a much better kisser than you ever will be. Besides this, she is also intelligent, kind, beautiful, and has won my heart. If you ever threaten her again, do not be surprised if your life suddenly comes to a bitter end.
Sincerely,
Mr. and Mrs. Draco and Hermione Malfoy
P.S. Hermione wishes to write something as well:
Dear Pansy,
Stop looking so surprised. Oh, and please offer my sincerest apologies to your husband that he will not be leaving you anytime soon.
XOXO,
Hermione Malfoy
Hermione finished writing, and Draco smirked. "I'll take this to the tower, why don't you go to bed?" he asked, looking at his watch. Hermione noticed for the first time that he was fully dressed.
"Were you planning on sleeping at all tonight?" she asked, knitting her brow. Draco thought for a moment as he recapped the inkwell.
"I wasn't tired. I figured I'd catch up on some more of my writing." He gestured to a Brobdingnagian sized roll of parchment that was sitting on the corner of the table.
Hermione's brow knit even tighter. "So when you said that you would get your book published, you actually meant a book!"
"Well, I was hoping to save it as a surprise..." Draco looked sheepish as a bit of pink tinged his cheeks.
"What's it about?" Hermione asked, reaching for it, but Draco stopped her.
"You'll see," he said, smiling gently. "And now, I think it's time for bed!" He rose to his feet and pulled her up as well. He tucked the letter to Pansy in his pocket and threw an owl treat to one of the birds in the room. He took her hand as they walked silently down the hall. Hermione tried her best to make a mental note of the layout of the floor. "Good night, sweetie," he said, enveloping her in a hug and then placing a kiss on her cheek.
"Good night," Hermione replied, yawning widely and slipping into her bedroom and then into her gigantic, plush bed.
Draco walked resolutely to the south tower and put the note to the ex-Parkinson girl under a loose stone. Her little obsession with him was unsettling. He hadn't even known that she was married until his birthday. His birthday party had been the first time he had seen her since graduating from Hogwarts. And the impression he had gotten from Bradley Bludwurm had been very creepy, to say the least. He was so thin! It was disgusting. And the way he had leered at Hermione like that... And those gold eyes of his... He definitely wasn't someone he would want to spend time with.
Those days at Hogwarts seemed so out of place now. It was hard to imagine that those memories actually belonged to him. He had been so mean to Hermione. But why? Because of some stupid prejudices that his father had instilled in him from the time he could open his eyes.
"Daddy," he had asked once, when he was with his parents in muggle London, "what's wrong with those people? Why're they dressed so weird?"
"They're muggles, son," his father had answered. "They don't know about magic. That makes them bad. So stick close to me and your mother."
His mother hadn't done any better. She and her Bridge Club ladies had always gossiped in their loud, mocking tones, talking about how ill-mannered and unfit muggleborns were. It was no wonder Draco had automatically assumed the worst about Hermione. Weasley, being pureblooded, but belonging to a family of muggle fanatics who couldn't afford a decent house-elf, had also gotten the short end of the stick. And then there was Potter. He had actually rather liked Potter when he first met him. He had offered him friendship, hadn't he? But if there was one thing his parents had stressed to him more than anything else, it was that the Dark Lord was to be obeyed, and Potter was most definitely not a believer of that philosophy. And so, Draco had upheld his parents' beliefs because he thought they were wise and would make him powerful. He was a Slytherin, after all.
And now, all these years later, he actually rather wished that he'd been a Hufflepuff. Well, maybe not a Hufflepuff... That was going too far. But Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, that would have set him off right. Imagine if he had spent those long seven years of his life in the same house as the woman he now called his wife! But the past is unchangeable. He couldn't do anything about it now. He was extremely lucky that he finally had seen the light. He loved Hermione with all his heart. He welcomed the thought of someday having half-blooded, bushy haired, extremely smart, very brave children! Was that so strange? For him, it certainly was.
Pansy Parkinson Bludwurm was still stuck in her old beliefs. There would never be anything Draco could do to draw her out of them. If he had to guess, he'd say that the Bludwurm family was probably even more into the dark arts than the Malfoys, and that was saying something.
It was now a quarter to four in the morning and Draco finally made his way back to his bedroom. He took a final peek into the room next to his to watch the rise and fall of his beloved's chest as she slept. He smiled softly and returned to his own bedroom, changed into his new pajamas, and dreamed of bushy-haired Malfoys.
End Notes:
(Marmalade mutters something about embarrassing, fluffy filler.)
