THE LOAN

Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy was many things, but he was not a sadist. He had upheld his duty to the Ministry by engaging in sexual intercourse with Hermione, but that was it. He did not enjoy the act, not because he was still holding on to some archaic notion of Muggleborn inferiority, but because he could see, clear as day, just how much it had disgusted her. He hadn't the courage to look her in the eyes as he had settled his body weight over hers. He had almost wished that she would close her eyes so he did not have to answer to her vacant stare – her eyes were fixated on him but he could tell that she had left the room mentally. When he saw a rogue tear escape her left eye, he thought he would implode with the shame and helplessness that had now taken free reign over his body. Wordlessly he had turned his head, and stared at the ornate doorframe in her room. He had concentrated on the door and nothing else, and when it was done, he had gently moved himself off her, and flinched when she had immediately turned his back to him, signaling to him that the faster he leave, the better.

He certainly couldn't get out of there fast enough. Shaking fingers had clumsily zipped trousers and righted clothes, and weary legs had walked him out the door. He let out the breath that it seemed he had held in the entire time, and ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat.

'Missy,' he called, and the little house-elf appeared before him. 'You are not to disturb Ms. Granger today, Missy,' he explained. 'Do not call on her for mealtimes, in fact, do not call on her at all. You are only to interact with her if she calls for you.'

'Understood, Master Malfoy,' Missy croaked.

'Thank you,' he said, and dismissed her. He sighed once she was gone, and went to his room, already dreading having to interact with her ever again. For both their sakes, he wished that whatever they had done in there worked, and that by some miracle it only took one try for her to conceive. He knew it was simply wishful thinking given the number of times he had tried to impregnate Astoria, but to no avail.

'Magic sperm, please do your fucking job this time around,' he muttered, and retired to the comforting emptiness of his room.

-X-X-X-

Hermione came out of her stupor after what seemed like forever, but in reality had only been a few hours. She had drained herself out of tears for the day, and she found herself wanting to forget – in any way possible. However, there was only way she knew how, but she also knew that even a sip of alcohol would lead to her puking her guts out, given what had occurred between her and Malfoy during the day.

So, instead of drowning her tears in alcohol, she called for Missy and a pack of cigarettes.

'To slow death,' she chuckled grimly, before putting a stick between her teeth, and leaving her sanctuary.

She found herself craving some tea, but she wanted to make it the Muggle way. She needed something to do to keep her mind off what had transpired. Cooking – even the simple act of making tea – would do the job, albeit if only for a little while.

When she entered the kitchen she was fascinated by how large it was. It was white marbled and ostentatious, unsurprisingly so (for a Malfoy kitchen), but their wealth still seemed to take her breath away when it caught her by surprise on a few instances.

She shooed the house elves away and they stopped their fretting and "haw-ing" once she sent a withering look their way. Missy, who had been told to stay out of her way, ushered the elves out of the kitchen and to other, safer parts of the Manor. Hermione felt a tinge of regret at the scared, tennis-ball eyes that widened even more so at her glares, but she was too far-gone to give a damn.

As she went to light the stove, she had a strange but sudden urge to bend down, and start breathing in the gas. Before she knew what she was doing, she had given meaning to her urge by sniffing at the burner. When the smell hit her, she seemed to regain sense of what she had almost been about to do, and she sprang away from the stove, eyes wide in horror.

'What the fuck is wrong with me,' she spat out, and lit the stove, bringing some water to boil.

She had never considered herself suicidal. She had never gone so far as to actually attempt to do it – this had been, for lack of a better word, her bravest attempt. She chided herself for letting the dark sorrow that had taken up permanent residence in her brain get the better of her. She had been on a downward spiral since the day that fated letter had reached her, informing her that she was required to loan her womb out to another couple. The drinking had intensified, and the smoking had been taken up, but Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, would be damned if she let them take away her mind along with her body.

No, her mind was hers alone. It was hers alone to torture, to regret, to despair.

She took her cup to the library in the East Wing, determined to direct her stream of thinking towards something with big words and dense paragraphs. The library in the Manor, too, took her by surprise. She should be used to the opulence by now, but she was enchanted by the warm, well-lit room that felt like homecoming to her.

Dark, mahogany wood lined every surface, from the walls to the ceiling, and even the floors - to the extent that she could see, at least. As she stepped into the room she took in the thick, lush carpet that stretched out under her, interrupted by cushions and comfortable, high backed chairs in self-proclaimed reading nooks. And that was before she got a chance to register the books. Each wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, and upon each was book after another, no breathing room. It seemed like this library, too (and the wonder it housed within) had been passed down as heritage in the Malfoy family, each member adding on, doing their bit to make their ancestors proud.

So lost was she, that she did not even realize that she was not alone. In fact, she did not see, that at the furthest, west-end of the room sat Draco - engrossed in a volume with his feet up on the ottoman in front of him. He, too, had not noticed her come in, but upon hearing her gasp at the discovery of a tome she had only ever heard of in legends, he looked up.

'Fuck, really?' he thought to himself, stiffening as he noticed her. 'Did she have to choose this very time to visit the library?'

He paused for a few moments, but saw no use in delaying the inevitable. Besides, he did not wish for her to have a nasty little surprise upon finding out that she was not alone.

He cleared his throat, and was almost amused by how she seemed to jump out of her skin at the sudden distraction. 'Hey,' he said, and winced at how throaty he sounded. He cleared his throat again.

'Malfoy,' she said, acknowledging him. 'Sorry, didn't see you there.'

No one said anything for a beat. The awkwardness seemed to hang in the very air they were breathing.

'Look, I'm just gonna go,' she muttered and started to walk when he interrupted her.

'Wait, Granger,' he said, and instantly regretted it. Why, oh why hadn't he just let her leave? Then he could've gone back to his book, and she could've gone back to doing whatever she had been for the past few hours.

'Yes?' she replied, expectantly, still holding her cup of tea in both hands, almost as a defense against him.

'Uh,' he started, unsure of what to say. 'I just wanted to see if you were alright.'

The Earth seemed to stand still. Was Draco Malfoy, the man she had already deemed devil incarnate in her head, really checking to see if she was doing fine? Then it dawned on her. Her wellbeing directly translated to the wellbeing of his unborn child.

'I'm fine,' she bit out, meeting his stare. 'Is that it?' she continued, almost insolently.

'Look, I know you don't trust me, and it's no secret that I'm not your biggest fan either,' he sighed, looking at his hands. 'But I want us to be cordial - on polite terms. It's the only way we have of making out of this with our sanity intact. I know that this must not be the easiest for you, but it certainly isn't easy for me too. So I just wanted you to know that I don't mean you any harm, nor do I wish you ill. I just wish for this nightmare to be over so that we can go back to our normal lives – or at least some semblance of it.

She was about to interrupt him, but he continued.

'And I am also sorry for what we had to do today,' he said, his voice dropping, so that she had to strain to hear him clearly. 'I can't help it, but I still want you to know that I am.'

He looked up at her then, and she was taken aback at how honest and unflinching his gaze was, at that moment. This was an olive branch she was prepared to accept – she had never expected empathy or understanding from him, but it was a start for him to acknowledge the fact that what had happened today had been hard for her.

She simply nodded - as she was afraid if she said a word her voice would give away how badly she wanted to cry - then turned and walked out of the once inviting room.

It seemed like she did still have some tears left in her for the day.

-X-X-X-

A/N – Thank you to all those who read and review. It means the world to me.

I know how horrible it is of me to abandon this fic for such a long time, and then jump back as if no time has passed at all. In case you do decide to stick around, you have all my love and gratefulness,

If you've taken the time out to read, please do take the time out to leave a review!