Recap:
"I know. But, then again, it's all part of being married. For better or for worse, right?"
"Yeah," Hermione laughed bitterly. "But I was under the impression that 'or' meant the opposites were interchangeable."
Chapter 4: Pins and Needles
The house was hauntingly quiet without Kamal. Galen and Sitara hardly left the sanctuary of their bedroom or the backroom directly across from it, leaving Hermione and the others to their own devices. Weeks went by without incident, but, cruelly, that only caused them more worry. They needed information to keep sane. Not knowing was just as bad as knowing the worst. And that was definitely what they expected. Even the papers were dry of detail and talked little of Voldemort and the like.
Hermione and Draco had made up, but his attitude seemed icier than usual. He was rigid with her to the point of being offensive. When she brought up this fact, or others, he would brush her off and change the subject. Or not talk at all. She confided in Melantha, having long talks into the night, but they only served to ease the worry slightly. And when she saw Draco again it all came back.
But what had she expected? That they would get married and live happily ever after? She could never expect pure happiness from Draco, and yet she found herself disappointed, as though she had expected such outlandish things from him. As if he was capable of them. She knew it would be difficult, a down right pain. But the situation at hand just didn't seem right. He was far more closed off than he should have been.
And she wasn't going to stand for it anymore. She had enough of playing nice.
"Why did you marry me?" Hermione asked coldly, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrow and icy.
Draco remained collected, though inside he was wondering how he could possibly come out of this with all his limbs intact.
"What—"
"Don't give me a fucking bullshit answer, Draco!" she snapped before he would form his words. Yes. He would definitely lose something. "I'm serious! You've been as much of a husband as petrified wood these past few weeks! I didn't marry you to fight this battle everyday. I was under the impression that we were past all that childishness. But," she sighed, her breathing a little labored but her voice considerably lower, "apparently I'm the only one who matured."
"Maybe you haven't noticed," Draco started slowly, "but I just happen to have a hell of a lot on my mind! And bending to your every whim isn't on the list!"
"I don't want you to 'bend to my every whim'! I want you to be my husband!"
They seethed at each other for several minutes, their eyes a lightening storm between them.
"I love you Draco," she whispered, almost sadly, her head bowing just slightly. "But we can't continue on like this. I know a lot is going on, but while we wait we're getting further apart. I can't stand the thought…the thought…of losing you."
Draco's shoulders relaxed and he pulled her to him almost roughly, her body falling into him like a missing puzzle piece. There was a deep, calm silence and an unspoken understanding. They would always be a couple that fought, relentlessly even, but in the end they still loved each other and nothing could change that. Neither doubted they would be having this same fight a hundred times over for years to come.
He kissed her forehead and the space between her eyes. Her big, soft chocolate eyes. Then finally, washing over him like a gentle breeze, she softened against him completely, and all fears and arguments vanished, if only for a moment.
"Don't be cold to me," she whispered, though it could have easily been mistaken as a whimper. And it was at that moment that Draco realized that, as strong and resilient as she was, she could also be fragile and broken-down. She was two months pregnant and here he was feeding her spoonfuls of stress with her tea. This was not how a husband should act!
"I won't," he whispered back, his emotions flooding him. But he fought the urge to push her away and leave the room in search of solitude, his neutral switch. No. She needed him right now and—no matter how strong the feeling was—he would stay with her. Because as much as he was uncomfortable expressing his deeper emotions, he was still in love with his wife.
"Draco…" Her entire body gave a great sigh. "I hardly know you…"
He wanted to say, "No. Of course you know me. I'm your husband!" But the instant the words entered his head he knew they weren't true. There were parts of him, carefully hidden and guarded on all fronts, that no one would ever know. Hermione was the first to have but a glimpse of those parts, but they were so shrouded with darkness that they were mere shadows, echoes of something that could have been normal.
He felt dead inside all of a sudden. Unworthy to be holding a woman so warm and full of life that her light was actually able to penetrate him.
"I'm sorry…"
She looked up, her face hiding nothing, and held his eyes. He didn't flinch; his mind screamed to run, but his feet were like cement. She had so much power over him.
"I know," she said, then smiled and rested her head on his chest. "That's why it's ok."
"You mean I get to see Hermione?" Ron asked, aghast. No. He had to be dreaming. In a moment he would wake up, disappointed, in his own bed.
"That's precisely what I mean," laughed Dumbledore, his fingers pointed in a steeple. "But we must leave at once if we are to arrive by nightfall. Voldemort knows that you have caught wind of his plans and must be on the move as we speak."
"What about the others?" He glanced out the window to where Harry, Ginny, and Lavender sat on a picnic blanket in the yard. Dumbledore had arrived ten minutes before, pulling Ron hastily from the romantic meal. "What about my fiancée and my sister? What about Harry? Or…or the baby?" All of a sudden leaving seemed cowardly and not the gift it had first appeared. He would love to see Hermione, spend time with her, helping out when she needed in preparation for their new baby. But then what would become of those he left behind? He couldn't possibly leave his future wife, his best friend, his sister, and his future nephew to save himself!
"I assure you that they will be in the best of care."
"I can't do it," Ron said firmly, his eyes narrowing. "I can't leave them. Not to protect myself."
"That's what I'd hoped you'd say," Dumbledore beamed. He patted Ron on the shoulder, giving him a look he had only seen his Headmaster give Harry. He was proud, and nothing could take that away from him. "Because no matter what Voldemort will come after you, whether you are here or not."
"Then we should all leave. Find some place safe."
"Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody have agreed to move you all to a safer location and stay to provide adequate protection. Especially for Miss Weasley."
"So Ginny really is in the most danger?" He bit his lip as he said this, his fears rising in his throat.
"Of those here, yes. The child of Harry Potter would be a very valuable thing to someone like Voldemort. But, as things stand, Miss Granger is what he wants the most. And the reason he is after you—" Ron held his breath. A many weeks ago he had been informed that he was in danger, though no one ever told him why. Members of the Order were placed outside his house, but there was not a murmur of the truth. Now he was going to find out why. "—is because of how highly she regards you."
"But surely Harry—"
"Lord Voldemort can know your deepest secrets even without the use of Legilimens. And it is you, Mr. Weasley, who Hermione treasures most outside of her own family. In all actuality she views you as part of her family."
"I don't understand." He frowned. Not out of sadness, for he was elated, but out of confusion. Did this mean Harry was less important to Hermione than himself?
"No," Dumbledore answered. "She does not see Harry any lesser. But, in all the time she has known him, she has viewed him as a brother. Her love for him is familial. Her love for you is somewhat different."
"She loves Malfoy," he said a little too harshly. Yes he had accepted this fact, but that didn't mean that he had to like it.
"And very much so," Dumbledore said, his smile not fading. "But that does not overshadow the fact that she loved you first. And first loves are never forgotten. I trust you know what I mean."
Ron nodded slowly, his eyes hazy just a little. Hermione still loved him, as he did her. Though he knew it was nothing of the love she had for Malfoy, or the love he had for Lavender. But the thought still sent chills through him, while at the same time making him feel warm all over. It was a softer love, somewhere in between what he felt for Lavender and what he felt for Ginny. Though no lesser.
"Hermione is very important to me," Ron said after a long moment. Then, "Where are we to go?"
"Come along." He placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, turning him slightly away, pointed towards the door. "Let us fill in the others first."
Hermione stood with her hands clenched together before her, teetering on the balls of her feet. She looked around, taking in the abandoned classroom, it's shelves empty save for dust, and dozens of old desks stacked all around—in other words, anywhere but at him
"You weren't so shy a few nights ago," Draco said, his voice low and sensual, as he took deliberately slow steps towards her. She made to move, but he grabbed her wrists, tilting his head to catch her eyes.
"I think this was a mistake," she said; it was the first thing that popped into her head. And she really did believe this. She almost didn't show, but a nagging feeling in her gut told her it would have been wrong to ditch him. And to that gut feeling she had thought, "But what has Malfoy ever done for me?"
"Why?" He was now pressed against her, one arm snaked around her waist. She resisted the urge to kiss him, to feel that burst of pleasure surge through her. Though she had been drunk her first time, she was definitely of sound mind in the Astronomy Tower. Oh the things he did to her…
"I'm really not in the right state of mind right now, Malfoy."
"Draco," he corrected, brushing his lips across her forehead.
"I came here tonight to tell you something." At her tone his back stiffened. "I've decided—" She took a deep breath. "—to get rid of the baby."
"You can't be serious." But he knew she was.
"Draco!" she hissed, shoving him back. "How am I supposed to raise a baby without a father? Without being able to tell everyone—my best friends—who the father is? It's impossible! And I'm only eighteen! I can't have a baby! My parents will kill me..."
"I can't let you do that." He had heard horror stories about abortion. His child would not suffer that fate. "It's my baby too, Granger. And I say it lives."
"I-I can't," she cried, bursting with tears. She collapsed on the floor, her breaths in great heaving sobs. All Draco could do was stand there and watch. He didn't know the first thing about comforting someone. Let alone his enemy for the past seven years who he had subsequently gotten pregnant. "It's too hard! It won't work! I'll break down and tell someone! And then we'll be in danger. I just…I can't have that on my shoulders. This is too much."
"I don't care," he heard himself say, his anger getting the better of him. He reached down and grabbed her by the shoulders, yanking her to her feet. "You will have that child and I will be a part of their life. I don't care how hard it's going to be for you. Do you have any idea how much danger I am in? If someone caught wind of this I would be cursed within hours!"
"That's all you care about!" Hermione screamed, pushing him back so hard that he nearly fell over. "Yourself! I don't matter! The baby doesn't matter! It's all about you and it always will be! That's just another reason for me to do this!"
"If you so much as think about it I will not hesitate to inform Potter and Weasley of our fun together." His voice was full of vengeance.
"You wouldn't dare," she spat back, leveling his iron gaze. "If they know you're done for."
"You think so?" he laughed. "If I'm found out by the Dark Lord then so are you. Do you honestly believe he'll let it pass that a mudblood like you seduced a pureblood like myself. He's likely to believe you're the reason I refused the Dark Mark and his service. So no, Granger, I don't think they would tell a soul. Besides, they would be too shamed to say a word. Their little rag doll consorting with the enemy? What a scandal!"
"FINE!" The pitch of her voice was so loud Draco found himself covering his ears. The pure rage in her eyes even startled him somewhat. Never had he seen her so angry. "I'll keep the baby! I'll lose my friends! I'll lose my family! My life! And all for someone who could care less whether I lived or died! Someone who I could care less about! Are you happy now!"
Every part of him wanted to say no, that he was miserable, but didn't know why. That when he looked at her he felt this ebbing pain inside that he couldn't explain. Every part, that is, except for his pride and arrogance.
"Yes," he said, puffing up his chest. "I am."
"That'll change when you're in hell."
"I'll see you there."
"That might very well be true," she seethed. "I don't suppose giving birth to the child of a depraved monster is heaven-worthy. Good night, Draco."
Her peaceful slumber was viciously snatched away at the sound of her husband tumbling out of bed. She scrambled over to him, her heart sinking when she saw tears staining his cheeks.
"Draco, what is it?" she whispered, kissing his face.
"I can't take this anymore, Hermione," he breathed painfully. "How can you love me?"
"What are you talking—"
"You know the truth!" And he sounded almost accusatory. "You know how badly I treated you even after you were pregnant! How I forced you to have the baby when you didn't want to. How I forced you to potentially give up everything! And for what? So I could breathe easy! So I didn't have to worry about Voldemort! You have to tell me." He grasped her arm so quickly that she let out an unintentional gasp. "How did you fall in love with someone so cruel?"
"Because," she sighed, a smile gracing her lips. "It wasn't you, not really. Once I cracked your outer shell I found the real you. The man I married. Everything else was fear compounded on stereotypes that you had been fed since you were a baby. For the life you've led, I'm surprised I was ever able to see the real you."
"I still don't understand. How could you look past it all? I tortured you."
She kissed his forehead, tugging on his arm for him to sit on the bed. He obeyed, but only because he wanted the answer.
"You may have tortured me. Called me names, called my friends names. You might have threatened me, and you could have very well meant to follow through with your threats. You were a Slytherin, arrogant and vindictive. You saved me only to use me for sex, and when I told you I was pregnant you told me to I couldn't have the baby. Then I told you I was going to have an abortion, and so you struck back with more threats, using Voldemort even when you were being hunted by him yourself. You—"
"Hermione, please." She saw the agony in his eyes and nodded.
"My point is that, even after you'd done all that, even when I had lost all hope in you, you still loved me."
He looked completely baffled. Clearly this was not the answer he had been expecting.
"But—"
"You had it in you to love another person, and me of all people. When I realized you had a heart, I had nothing holding me back anymore. And I fell too."
"Hermione, I—"
"It's nine o'clock," she interrupted, smiling knowingly. "What do you want for breakfast?"
Ok there. How was that:) A little more flashback, and some insight on what has been going on outside the Blake residence. Now how could I make this even more angst-filled? Muhahahaha!
REVIEW!
P.S. My updates (with both my stories) will have bigger gaps from now on. I will try my hardest, writing a little each day, but I'm not making any promises. This doesn't mean I will abandon my stories—I love them too much to do that :D It just means that I'm going back to college in a week and I have a lot to do before then. And then, when I get there, I'll have schoolwork and such. I'll still post, because I have my own computer and I'll be hooked up to the internet, but it just won't be as often. So hang in there :P
