Author's Note: All disclaimers apply. I do not own the characters contained in this story. They belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Bros. Inc. Also thanks for all of the reviews. They are very inspirational and appreciated! Edited to add credit to Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and her plot from Shanna. This entire disclaimer applies to her work as well.
Chapter 6
A Simple Warning
Punctual as ever Percy arrived the next morning well before Hermione had started breakfast upstairs and gotten dressed for the day. Her encounter with her supposedly dead husband the night before making her on edge she jumped overturning her thankfully empty teacup in the process at the first sounds of Percy's persistent rapping on the door below. Checking the time she realized she had overslept a bit having a significant amount of trouble falling asleep. Wrapping her robe about her for modesty sake she carefully unbolted her apartment door and peeking around to make certain Malfoy wasn't hovering nearby, quietly crept below.
To her dismay he was already up and about making no move to open the door to Percy, and not even bothering to busy himself with any work whatsoever. "Did your last few months in prison make you deaf?" she grumbled throwing him a quelling glare.
"I'm afraid I'm not sure as to what my duties entail. If I'm supposed to open the doors for everyone who happens by you should say so. You didn't make yourself very clear on the matter yesterday," he answered noncommittally not looking at her at first. Instead he was frowning at how boring she had settled into her life becoming. Second hand books, wands, and other nonsense, she most definitely was going to be at an advantage having married him.
"It's not a duty it's common courtesy," she snapped back fumbling in the drawer behind the counter for the keys.
"You're asking me to show the Jr. Minister courtesy?" he turned to smirk at her but his face lost any trace of amusement. "Do you always greet customers in your nightgown and robe or is the Ministry Weasel an exception?"
"If you'd opened the door in the first place I would've had time to dress, but since you're lazy, arrogant, and without manners I'm just going to have to let him myself." She was already at the door turning the key in the lock not even trying to guess why he was suddenly so surly. More than likely he was not a morning person, just another delight to add to the many she would undoubtedly regret by agreeing to keep him here and letting him intimidate her into silence.
"Good morning Percy," she smiled her past annoyance cast from her features.
"Hermione, I'm sorry did I catch you at a bad time," Percy asked assessing her attire. Her legs were peeking through the slit at her knees and she had only worn a thigh length gown the night before. "Forgive me, but I was only checking in to see that the arrangement was still satisfactory. Is Mr. Malfoy proving himself to be as interested in his rehabilitation as he should be?"
Hermione paused for a moment wanting desperately to tell Percy the truth, beg him to take Malfoy away, but instead she smiled wider. "He's proving to be a decent help really. Nothing to worry about in the least," she lied hoping Percy was not as perceptive as she knew him to be.
"Truly, how surprising. I was certain you'd be ready to ship him off this morning." Percy glanced over Hermione's shoulder to evaluate the man in question finding him reading and standing about as though he didn't have a care in the world. That was what galled him the most about the bastard he decided, his cavalier attitude toward his sentence and his chance at a more pleasant environment in which to pay his debt to society.
"Did you receive the money I sent yesterday?" she asked changing the subject of Malfoy's performance hastily.
"Yes, and again I thank you for your contribution and I'm certain Mr. Malfoy appreciates the effort as well," Percy nodded in the other man's direction but still garnered no outward response.
"The terms of this agreement Percy are for seven years, is that correct? Also, what should I do if for some reason after awhile I wouldn't need his help anymore? Would it be possible to free him or would I have to relinquish him back to the Ministry or someone else so that he could fulfill the remainder of his sentence?" She knew that Malfoy was hanging on her every word daring her to defy him and tell Percy to take him away. However, she was curious as to the options she had should she find a way to extricate herself from the muddle she'd made of her life.
"Actually, the same terms as hundreds of years ago apply," Percy stated with a shrug. "Not that I agree but should Malfoy ever find the funds to reimburse you for your payment to the Ministry, or Gods forbid he married you he would be free."
Hermione suddenly felt lightheaded and turned away slightly so Percy could not gauge her reaction. Simply put should Malfoy ever wish for his freedom, which he would most definitely seek, all he needed to do was reveal their secret. It would be the perfect revenge destroying her friendships with Ron and Harry for her deceit, ruining Neville's future in the Ministry, and walking away from it all a free man in return.
"Oh well, I won't keep you any longer as I appear to have inconvenienced you too early this morning," Percy interrupted her troubled thoughts just then. "Remember if there is anything you ever need don't hesitate to ask," he reminded her kindly. Then he took her hand in his and patted it reassuringly. "Good day," he said and turned to leave.
Just before stepping from the shop he stopped short and leaned down to retrieve a neatly wrapped package sitting on the front step. "Well it looks as though you have some well wishers Hermione," he smiled back her as he handed her the package.
Grimacing in confusion Hermione took the gift wondering suddenly if it was from Percy and he was trying to be coy. There was a card on the top and it was simply congratulating her on her new shop. "Thank you," she murmured wondering who could have sent the gift knowing that her friends had already expressed their happiness for her. Maybe it was one of the elves she had helped.
As Percy shut the door behind him Hermione ripped into the wrapping to discover what was obviously a box of chocolates. They were of the variety Fred and George sold down the street so she grinned to herself thinking they had been thoughtful enough to express their confidence in her again. Pulling the top off of the box she walked over to the counter and sat them down about to take one of the round chocolates from a wrapper.
"Perhaps if Weasley knew you were a married woman he wouldn't be so encouraged." Malfoy's annoyed tone caused her to sigh and drop the sweet before enjoying it.
"I don't know what you're talking about and further more I don't care. Percy's a good man, hard, and sometimes over zealous, but deep down he means well." For a second she had forgotten about Malfoy's presence he'd been so uncharacteristically quiet.
"Are these from another admirer or did Weasley just want you to believe he was being romantic by giving you a secret gift. The man's too obvious." Malfoy slammed shut the book he had been pretending to read while watching Percy with his wife. Of all the aggravations he'd thought to face regarding Potter and the younger Weasel he hadn't thought to encounter Percy as any viable threat as far as Hermione was concerned.
"He's being nice," she reiterated shaking her head with disbelief. Malfoy was being unreasonable and she didn't have the time to try and figure out what had flared his temper this time. "You are a ruthless criminal and he's seeing that I'm safe and nothing bad has happened to me. Besides, Percy along with the rest of the world knows I'm a widow."
"Except, you know otherwise," Malfoy reminded her stalking closer and deciding that she wasn't as timid in the light of day so he wouldn't have to tread so lightly.
"Do I?" she challenged picking up the piece of chocolate again and strolling over to straighten a rack on the wall she just noticed was hanging ever so slightly to the left.
"I thought we had discussed this last night. Weren't you listening?" While her back was turned he decided to read the card for himself. Just something about congratulations not anything too threatening so nothing at the moment to worry over he realized before absently picking out one of the chocolates himself.
"I listened that doesn't mean I agree. Now don't you have something to do? Sweeping the floors or maybe cleaning some windows?" She wasn't in the mood to deal with him yet and hadn't developed a sound plan in finding a way to dissolve their marriage. An annulment was out of the question, as that would invalidate her claim to the inheritance. She had quite effectively gone through the last of it when she decided to offer the Ministry help with the rehabilitation of a prisoner. Divorce was the only other option and for some reason she was getting the distinct feeling he would make that very difficult for her to obtain.
He wasn't paying any attention to her having turned his interest to the chocolates. There was something familiar about the scent of them, almost too sweet. Studying the candy closer he nearly tasted it suddenly thinking better of the idea. Only half hearing her mumbling to herself about annulments and money slowly the memory of when he'd first smelled something that sugary and acrid at the same time took shape in his mind. When he was a child his father had worked tirelessly for days and nights on end perfecting poison potions and this had a similar aroma to one such concoction. It was used to trick the intended victim into thinking they were eating a sweet pastry or candy when ultimately one bite brought on certain death with generally no anecdote.
Dropping the piece with disgust into the box he glanced up to see Hermione poised to pop the candy in her mouth. "Hermione, don't," he shouted rushing forward to grab the candy from her hand.
"Gods, what?" she gasped when he violently ripped the sweet from her grasp. "Now really you're being ridiculous."
"It's poison," he stated impatiently as though she should have known better. With revulsion he threw the piece in the fireplace in an adjacent wall then retrieved the rest of the box and disposed of it in the same manner.
"This is juvenile even for you. Simply because someone was thoughtful enough to…"
"If you don't believe me see for yourself. Start a fire and if the smoke turns green the candy was poisonous if not then for the first time in written history I'm wrong."
She glanced sideways at him wondering if he was speaking truthfully and if he were how would he know the candy was poisoned. "Very well." Having no wand at hand she shuffled through the drawer behind the counter finding matches. "I don't know what makes you think they're poison."
As the fire came to life slowly white puffs of smoke wafted up to the chimney. Then quite abruptly there was a loud pop and the smoke billowed upward in huge clouds of green, sweet and pungent smelling all at once. A bit shaken that she had nearly eaten one of the poison pieces she also did not like admitting that he had been right in assuming it was deadly to consume. "How did you know?"
"That doesn't matter what you should be wondering is who sent it and why." It was almost unbelievable to him that she was more concerned with being proven wrong than having her life threatened.
"Probably one of the families forced to pay reparations to an abused house elf," she answered with a shrug as though it was an everyday occurrence. "Usually I get a note or something first though." She quickly put out the fire and turned to go back upstairs and dress.
Before she could get by him Malfoy caught her arm to propel her back to face him again. "What do you mean you usually get notes and what about house elves? Tell me you really didn't start that dreary society of yours. It was a nice boring little hobby for you in school, but surely you put that well earned inheritance to better use."
Jerking herself free she straightened her robe again and drew her chin upward insulted whenever anyone did not feel as though her work to save the less fortunate elves was worthwhile. "That is exactly why I wanted the inheritance in the first place and I've been pretty successful. As for the notes, there are a few families that are not as impressed by my society and make empty threats from time to time."
"Today wasn't an empty threat," he noted harshly amazed that she took a near death experience so calmly. "Also, can you blame the families you're forcing to pay these elves of yours? Everyone lost something in the war and then what little they have left the courts are more than happy to take away."
"I didn't eat the candy, there was probably an anecdote, now let's just drop this subject," she said impatient to get the day underway. She couldn't very well keep standing down there arguing with him for no reason when there was work to be done.
He let her go this time waiting until she was out of sight to inspect the box the candies had arrived in earlier. There wasn't anything outwardly wrong in the least and nothing that would suggest who had sent the box in the first place. Well, whether she agreed or not sooner than later she was going to give up this organization for elvish welfare or whatever the bloody hell she called it. Trying to better society was a sickeningly noble venture if it didn't endanger your life in the process.
Upstairs she hurriedly dressed and went over a list of things she could busy Malfoy with so she wouldn't have to have him underfoot. There was the business of organizing the storeroom, which would need a thorough cleaning before he could begin stacking boxes in any semblance of order. That would keep him busy for the better part of the day and give her time to jot down some more incantations.
She heard voices already when she came back down and paused briefly to judge who might have happened by so soon after Percy's departure. She recognized Neville instantly and rushed forward before he could engage Malfoy in any type of argument. The slightest provocation might cause the malevolent prisoner to eagerly seek to destroy his Ministry career. "Neville, good morning," she said as cheerfully as possible.
Her friend was frowning harshly at Malfoy who was smirking at him with a gleam of victory present in his gaze. "Hermione, I don't know how this happened. I was told personally by one of the Aurors who witnessed his execution that it had taken place. Perhaps they were mistaken, but I am sorry."
"Neville, he's got the other certificate," she warned him coming to stand closer. "Even if you destroy the one at the Ministry he has the proof he needs I'm afraid to verify his claims."
"What's stopping you Malfoy?" Neville asked raising a disdainful brow. "Go ahead, talk all you want. Go to Percy himself and see how far it gets you."
Nervously Hermione wrung her hands at Neville's taunting. "Neville, you don't want that. Percy would see to it that you're terminated at the Ministry."
"Listen to the clever witch Longbottom," Malfoy advised wondering where the little prat was getting is sudden courage from.
"Percy isn't likely to believe anything unkind you say about Hermione is all," Neville explained matter-of-factly. "He's taken it in his mind that she's very hard-working, law abiding, and valuable to the Ministry for her help with the elves and by taking you in of all people. No, I doubt you'd be able to prove her a liar in Percy's eyes at all."
Surely Neville was bluffing she thought to herself, but hoped he wouldn't continue. Percy would as soon lock her away for something similar to treason if he ever discovered what she and Neville had secretly done. "Now really Neville you're making too much of this. Malfoy I'm sure is willing to discuss the possibility of a secret divorce."
"No, Malfoy is not and just why do you think Hermione is so above reproach as far as the Ministry Weasel's concerned," Malfoy said in clipped tones. All traces of lazy amusement were gone and he wasn't smirking but glaring fiercely waiting for Neville's response.
"It's no secret at the Ministry Mione' that Percy is taking an interest in a friendship with you. You are a highly respected witch for the most part, except to those families whose elves you've freed. As for you Malfoy, a secret divorce is the only option open here I think. It will be more difficult than the wedding, but advantageous to you both." Neville sighed with great effort. This bargain of Hermione and Malfoy's was growing to ghastly proportions and he had every fear that no good could come of it.
Hermione wasn't thinking about convincing Malfoy of a divorce, but wondering why Percy was suddenly so attentive where she was concerned. She'd never given him any indications that she thought of him as anything more than a passing acquaintance and now Neville was going so far as to think he'd let a sedition charge go unnoticed in favor of keeping her out of Azkaban?
"Is Weasley in the habit of pursuing married women then?" Malfoy drawled narrowing his eyes at Hermione who was deep in thought. She wasn't actually flattered that the red haired oaf was thinking of approaching her in a possibly romantic fashion?
"I'm a widow," Hermione snapped back. "We've exhausted that topic haven't we? Neville, see if you can get the papers quietly and as soon as they're ready bring them to the shop. Malfoy and I will sign them and get this over and done with."
"Don't waste your time Longbottom. I'm not signing anything. You've made your choice Hermione you'll have to live with it," he said frankly watching to see her reaction. He wasn't disappointed when her dark eyes sparked to life with anger and she placed her hands on her hips falling into a definitely furious stance.
"You're trying to exact some sort of revenge aren't you? Well, you will sign the papers and Neville will make sure this insane bargain never took place!" Gods, but Malfoy was being stubborn. She didn't recognize his ploy as he was surely suffering knowing he was married to someone he considered beneath him and not worthy of his attention.
"We played by your rules before and see where we ended up?" Malfoy stated trying to maintain an aloof air. "You can rant all you want, but I won't sign anything. Longbottom, you can be on your way if there's no other purpose for your visit."
He strode closer to Hermione and grabbed her arm when she made to retreat. "There's nothing further to discuss. We can work through this all on our own I'm certain." Then insolently he caught her chin firmly between his fingers and bent down to kiss her.
Eyes wide Hermione's muffled cry of outrage did nothing to dissuade him. When she struggled he bit her bottom lip warning her he wasn't going to release her until he was quite ready to do so. Talk of Percy and her determination to seek a divorce was irritating him and he wasn't in the mood to be gentle or lenient just now.
"Malfoy I'm warning you…" Neville started forward indignation present in his face.
"To what stay away from my own wife?" Malfoy baited lifting his head somewhat and enjoying the infuriated gasp that issued from Hermione.
"I'm a widow, my husband is dead," she reiterated flatly.
"That is getting annoying, the constant screeching about your widow status," he commented shaking his head and grimacing.
Thoroughly enraged she wrenched back and put as much distance between herself and Malfoy as possible glaring hatefully. "You will sign the papers."
"I think not," he rejoined coolly his features taking on a sharpness to them again.
"Malfoy, now this is not amusing anymore. Let me obtain the divorce papers and we'll settle this…" Neville began again feeling the tension suddenly increase rapidly.
"This no longer concerns you Longbottom and I suggest you mind your own business from now on." Malfoy wasn't going to take his gaze from Hermione determined to make her understand she could not control the situation at hand. From here on out they were going to abide by his terms with no exceptions.
"Neville get the papers," Hermione gritted out slowly finding Malfoy's glare unnerving. With a drawn out sigh she marched over to the front door. "We're keeping you too long and Percy might get suspicious. If I need anything I'll owl you I promise."
Casting Malfoy one last vicious glance Neville took the none too subtle hint that he should leave. It probably was for the best. He could secure the papers as quickly as possible and it would keep Malfoy from goading him and angering him further. "Don't hesitate if there is anything you need."
Hermione nodded and hugged Neville quickly before he stepped from the shop. "Take care and don't do anything that would make anyone suspicious of you. If I have to I can find a way out of this myself."
With Neville gone Hermione locked the front door again thinking absently that it was only two days more and she could start her business. Turning around Malfoy was still glaring at her and she decided it was in the best interest for the remainder of the day if to ignored the previous topic altogether. "I'm going upstairs to get some breakfast, I will bring you something as well if you like."
He didn't answer her but shoved his body away from the table he had been leaning against and pretended to busy himself picking through odds and ends that she hadn't properly displayed yet. Realizing she wasn't going to get a response she went on her way returning sometime later with breakfast for two. Pulling an empty table aside she also found a simple stool and sat down to eat quietly.
A few minutes passed before he sat across from her obviously not impressed with what she had provided for him to eat. She waited patiently for him to complain already prepared for any slurs he might hurl at her amateur cooking skills. When he said nothing and they had nearly finished she finally looked up inexplicably angry that he wasn't living up to her expectations by trying to insult her or make a fuss about something or another.
"Why are you doing this?" she finally said desperately dropping her fork onto her plate with a startling clatter.
"What? Eating? Well, one needs to keep up one's strength." He never met her gaze just continued picking at one of the sausages that she knew she had burned. Perhaps using magic for cooking was something she should really consider doing more often. Still the Muggle habit of preparing food on her own was hard to break.
"No, not shouting, insulting me, making it known how miserable you are about this arrangement," she cried hating how unconcerned he seemed about it all.
"First you carry on about me being unreasonable now you're fuming because I'm trying to be civil. Please, do explain." Giving up on the rest of his breakfast he pushed the plate away and folded his arms on the table giving her his full attention.
"This isn't like you. The Malfoy I remember would hate the very thought of having to exert himself in any way, let alone be expected to do manual labor." He was appearing to be so casual and composed while she was in constant turmoil every moment she was in his presence. It was likely to drive her mad.
"If you know how difficult it is for me to lower myself to such standards all you need to do is admit to the truth," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.
"See there you are again acting as though it's only your living arrangements and prisoner status that matter to you? I'm not bloody stupid. I know it's aggravating you to put it mildly that you've married a Muggle-born mediocrity of society."
"You've positioned yourself in that role all on your own," he asserted absently rubbing his wrists. Percy was very precise in making certain the damned manacles were practically seared into his skin.
"What do you mean?" This would be interesting she thought halfheartedly hating herself for still after all of these years caring what he thought of her.
"Take a look around you. A second hand shop compared to actually putting that inheritance toward a decent life. You could have had a splendid townhouse or something of the sort along with beautiful clothes, jewels, the kinds of things females dream of buying and lavishing themselves with," he replied scowling when he realized the skin underneath the lead bands was rubbed raw once more.
"Just what would I do with those? Jewels are worthless really if you don't have anyone to wear them for or a place to wear them to. A townhouse? One person rattling around in such a big space with no one for company would be a waste," she said pinching her nose up as though the very idea of it was absurd. "No, I'm a much better person for spending my money wisely."
He just shook his head forgetting that he wasn't talking to an average female who would immediately fall prey to the wiles of sparkling diamonds and expensive clothing. "So you're really satisfied living life in such a dull manner? Quite pitiful really, but anyhow, what mundane task do you have planned to keep me safely tucked out of your way for the day?"
"The storeroom needs organizing," she whispered frowning thoughtfully. During the entirety of breakfast he had been fidgeting with his manacles and it was not as though he was trying to free himself. He could do that well enough. "Is there something wrong with the restraints? You've toyed with them forever now."
"Perhaps you should wear lead restraints for the better part of a year and see how comfortable you are," he snarled back irritably. She was making politeness difficult and she had effectively dashed any hopes of plying her with gifts of a frivolous feminine nature. What little patience he had left was waning considerably.
"You might as well take them off. We both know you're capable of it and I doubt we'll have anyone in for the rest of the day that would see you without them." While she offered her suggestion she looked closer and noticed the deep red welts around his wrists. The skin was certain to not heal as long as the manacles were so tightly bound.
She called her wand to her having remembered to carry it down from upstairs when she brought breakfast and walked over to him instinctively as though he were anyone else in need of assistance. Lifting one of his wrists she caught her wand in her other hand and began examining the inflamed skin. When the manacles stayed in place and he didn't move she looked up at him confused. "Well, are you going to take them off or not? I can't very well make sure you won't get the skin infected if you don't."
Silently the manacles fell to the table and Hermione returned her attention to her task. She remembered healing spells almost as easily as she did her defensive ones. Healing could be considered more of a hobby than anything however and she did keep up her reading on certain incantation. When she was seemingly pleased she carefully let go of his wrist and was surprised when he presented her with his other. Murmuring the same spells a second time she sighed when she was finished wondering why Percy or whoever had secured his restraints had been hell bent on bonding them to his flesh it appeared.
"There," she whispered satisfied that the dark red coloring was fading and the skin was taking on a healthy glow. "Does that feel better?" she asked before she thought better of it. Why did she try and pretend this was anyone other than the very person who had always sought and did still to destroy her in any possible way?
"Somewhat," he amended pulling his sleeves up further to see if she had truly made any improvements. The burning was gone and the redness was disappearing. Actually she had done a rather splendid job but as her attitude toward him was still less than favorable he withheld any praise. "Would it make you more comfortable if I put them back on?" he asked nodding toward the fallen manacles on the table.
She wasn't staring at them; rather she had fixed her gaze on his forearm where the hideous burnt flesh that was Voldemort's Dark Mark was etched. The horror mixed with shock and revulsion that he saw on her soft features angered and haunted him. "You can keep staring at it and it's still going to be there you know? There's nothing that can remove it from my understanding except death so get used to it," he snapped shoving his sleeves down.
"I've never seen it so close before," she whispered as an excuse and the truth. "I just supposed you'd be proud of it is all. You betrayed the Wizarding World and the Ministry to receive it, followed your father's wishes, and now you keep it hidden."
"My father's beliefs and wishes got him killed didn't they?" He wanted to shake her senseless, proud of the fucking scarred marking? "Would you be proud of something that resulted in your losing everything you ever knew or held to be true? Would you be proud of something that only helped you earn a death sentence by guilt from association? I highly doubt it."
Raising a dark eyebrow Hermione impulsively reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, but you have to admit you were determined to see the Dark Lord's work done and…"
"So that is how we are going about the day is it?" he sneered. "Throwing one another's mistakes about? Well then perhaps we should be reminded of the time you arrogantly assumed you could marry for money and expect no further consequences."
Sighing Hermione let her hand fall away and no longer cared if she had insulted him or trod on his feelings in any way. He was such an ill tempered bastard it was useless to try and have a civilized conversation. "There wouldn't have to be consequences if you would just let go of whatever scheme you're plotting to make me suffer and sign divorce papers when Neville produces them."
"Longbottom or anyone else for that matter no longer has any bearing on our agreement is that clear?" If she mentioned divorce once more this day he would forget all about attempting to be pleasant and simply and bluntly inform her where they stood. The only thing that kept him from approaching her as he wished was the vision of her shaking and frightened of him.
"What is it you want?" she asked desperately staring back at him dark eyes immersed in confusion. "Do you want money? When I have the funds I could give them to you and you could buy your freedom. Something else? Are you thinking you can hurt Harry through me? I don't understand Malfoy truly I don't."
"No, mores the pity you wouldn't then again it's also refreshing," he said wryly almost wanting to laugh at his own situation. Any other woman would possibly assume that he wanted to use their body, to have them in his bed, but not Granger. No she picked over every possibility but the truth and it was endearingly innocent and equally exasperating.
"How did you ever manage to get a reprieve?" she interrupted his thoughts abruptly changing the subject.
"I honestly don't know. The night before they were suppose to carry out my sentence I was moved to a different floor of the prison and told that I was receiving a review of my case. A few weeks later a very displeased Auror informed me my sentence had been reduced. I didn't question it and still don't. I'm alive and cheated the Dementor's Kiss as well so for whatever reason luck was on my side I'm not going to analyze it."
"Neville knew nothing of this," she murmured. "I would have thought he would have heard something."
"Would you have cared?" he inquired derisively remembering all of the foolish nights he had dreamed of her wondering about his welfare even possibly waiting for him to be released. It had been an imaginative way to pass the agonizingly wearisome days. Even the most eccentric and dangerous of Death Eaters were assured of someone in the outside world concerned for their well being, waiting to be reunited with them.
"I told you that night I didn't think you deserved to die?" she whispered outraged that he could think her that cruel.
"However you would have preferred I rotted in Azkaban and left you in peace," he spat back at her bitterly.
"I'm not going to stand here and make excuses for your actions. You weren't innocent because you did intend to kill Dumbledore. Snape only finished the task for you and…"
Her eyes widened when he reached out and grabbed her upper shoulders hauling her forward. "You're talking about things you don't know or understand. Potter's version of what happened in the tower and mine are from different view points entirely. Somehow, I doubt you'd believe your husband over the fucking golden prat of our generation."
"Don't deny you were instructed to kill the headmaster," she hissed back struggling to maintain her composure. His eyes were flashing dangerously and there was something beyond his anger that worried her more.
"When you're more of mind to be sensible I'll tell you how and why I came to be in the tower that night, but I think it's best if we leave things from the past alone for now." He took a deep breath and released her then. Where was her damnable Gryffindor bravery now he wondered wrathfully? She was trembling again and staring back at him as though he was close to breaking her in two. He hated that fear in her eyes. It reminded of him of his mother, but he stopped himself. She hadn't thought of him when it mattered most, why should he consider of her.
"I don't think I want to know what evil thoughts are twisting around in your head. Whose to say you won't try and do me some harm to punish Harry for finding you that night?" There was something about him that had changed since school. A wildness ruled him now, something disturbing she couldn't define. Nothing was in place to keep him from attacking her in any way he wished and looking again at his manacles lying haplessly on the table she realized how vulnerable she truly was.
She was so thoughtful and her eyes kept darting about as though she was unconsciously seeking an escape. He shouldn't have, he knew that. Yet what good was power if one didn't use it from time to time? Slowly he concentrated on her thoughts burrowing deep into the recesses of her mind. For a brief moment her defenses were down, he was granted access to her deepest desires and fears. Then she recognized his ploy and instantly he was shoved from her subconscious. It was all the time he needed however. He aspired to be the center of her desire, but instead he was everything she feared.
"You will not do that again," she shouted turning on him incensed and bewildered. Blocking a strong willed wizard from treading through the darkest corners of her mind was tiring and quite straining to say the least.
"We have started off badly as usual," he began a calm and tranquil expression gracing his features. "My goal isn't to hurt you. You won't believe that now and I understand, but I'm not going to dance around the subject at hand. I'm not gentle or generally kind, but I'm not a bloody murdering beast either. Our situation is unique but we're both capable of making this arrangement work to our advantage."
Oddly he could look charming when he wasn't frowning or towering over her menacingly. Hermione stared at him even more perplexed than before. It almost seemed in a roundabout way Malfoy was apologizing or at least atoning for his behavior in some fashion. She still wasn't convinced. "You're right I don't believe you. More than likely you're planning numerous ways to end my life or destroy what I have and…"
"Completely wrong on both counts," he assured her holding up his hands in defense. "Lets leave it that I'm in no way shape or form planning your ultimate downfall or demise. As to how we proceed from here, that will remain to be seen, but in my mind no matter how we go about it the end result will be the same."
If she hadn't been so accustomed to his outbursts and childish pranks since they were children she would have believed him in that moment. There was nothing false or haughty about him now and he genuinely offered his word that he did not mean to purposely hurt her. Could she trust him to at least be enough of a gentleman and an adult to peacefully coexist until they could find a common ground for solving the dilemma of their marriage?
"Now, as for the rest of the day," he said lifting his lips in a mysterious smile. "What do you propose we do? Do you really want to mope around stacking shelves and sorting books," he drew closer to her looking down at her with an assessing gleam in his eyes, "or do you want to find a much more delightful way to pass the time?"
She had been wrong. He was as dangerous and depraved as she had always known him to be. "The storeroom Malfoy," she reminded him casting her gaze downward and trying to back up but another table halted her retreat.
"Ah, as boring as your books," he lamented enjoying the pink tinge that was spreading over her cheeks and to the tips of her delicate ears. "It's safer to hide behind those dusty tomes and not let the world in isn't? Amazing really that you've done battle with Death Eaters, stood at Potter's side during numerous skirmishes, and faced down death at the hands of the Dark Lord himself, but you're afraid of emotions that you don't understand. Hmm, if you can't read it in a book then it isn't worth knowing is that your conclusion?"
"The storeroom," she ground out again feeling the heat climbing to her face, the heady warmth settling around her.
"That's right, ignore what you fear the most and maybe it will go away. Just like a child who tries to close their eyes and count in the dark until they can push their fears aside."
"I'm not afraid of anything especially you," she defiantly glared back lifting her chin as arrogantly as she had seen him do himself so many times. "And I'm not a child."
She wasn't going to pay attention to him any more. Whatever he was thinking to do or whatever plans he was making didn't concern her at the moment. Neville would help her she was certain of it and he would have the papers in a matter of weeks. Turning to go to the counter and pull out her journals of the shop layout and inventory she crossed her arms and straightened her back with an overconfident air.
"I'd like to believe that, but we both know you're lying. I guess that's just something we'll have to work on. So, the storeroom today is it?" He watched her pull a chair up behind the counter and studiously look through a mountain of papers. She never raised her eyes to meet his when she answered.
"Yes, unless you want Percy to come back tomorrow and find out how truly inept and lazy you are. Strange, really that he's taken such an interest in me. I bet he'd be inclined to toss you out on your noble Malfoy bum if he thought it would make me happy." She loudly shuffled the pages of one thick journal in particular suddenly feeling triumphant that she could throw Percy's admiration for her in his face.
Appearing engrossed in her activity it was sometime before she raised her head and to her surprise Malfoy was gone. Surprising her even more Malfoy stayed out of her way for the remainder of the day and night actually working on the project she had requested. The storeroom was not finished by any means, but it was improved as he had cleaned and organized somewhat. She almost thanked him when he came stalking out for the night, but thought better of it when he flashed her a dangerous scowl. So instead she kept to her better senses and silently went up to her apartment.