Hermione's POV
When the whimper escaped her mouth, she didn't expect anything to change, but it did. The flow of emotion into the bond shrank and he stilled under her, tension creeping into his form. She hadn't noticed the relaxed muscles beneath her hand on his chest or face but as they firmed under her touch, it was clear.
Allowing her eyes to open, she watched his closed ones. A tiny furrow between his dark brows. His hand didn't release her hair though, and when his dark blue eyes finally opened, she saw the desire he wasn't sending down the bond and then it changed. A moment later she thought it through and decided it was resolve.
"Is it my hair?" She didn't take the question back, but did blush at her audacity. That hand was still there and she didn't think it was tangled. He blinked and then opened the bond a little bit and she closed her eyes. Oh yes it was her hair. He liked it. Her eyes opened and she flushed at the smile on his face. It was predatory and intent.
"You like it. It doesn't scare you?" Her eyes must have reflected her question. He continued. "That I want you, physically." His clarification made a shadow of pink cross his cheeks, and she admired his direct way of saying it. She thought about that. It didn't, she hadn't considered that angle either. His face looked expectant after she shook her head so words would be needed.
"No. It's surprising. You are gorgeous." He smiled lopsidedly at her slightly whiny tone. She pouted for a second then decided to carry on. This would be important between them and his face told her how important it was to him.
"No. The bond. I just don't feel like you would really want anything I wasn't ready for." She had spent a lot of time thinking about this. Parsing Sirius' words and replaying past months, the bond and what she thought was it versus her or him. His response to her reactions and the way he had gone about it.
"You understand then." He sounded relieved and his body relaxed under her hands. She hadn't wanted to move them, not willing to have it end like that. Her smile was easy and his grin was reward for her words.
"Will it be like this? Having to talk about it?" Hermione was so curious, and he seemed to know more than she did. Had known for far longer than her.
"I don't think so. We will see, I wasn't sure a week ago or even a couple of days ago. Now though, I hope we will experience it together." His words were sincere and hope didn't begin to cover the feelings he let through the bond. Overwhelmed, she let herself press her face into his shoulder and just be as open as she could. Already the bond felt different. Less a third party and more a conduit.
"Would you explain why you didn't tell me? It's not so important now, but I want to know more about how you think." It was easier to speak like this, not distracted by looking at him. Feeling his heartbeat against her cheek.
"I've been thinking about this. The differences in how we were raised. It was my father. I don't know what he will say, didn't feel I could offer anything substantial without knowing what exactly I could offer. My inheritances are varied but the family approval, it is important in our circles." She tried not to stiffen at his words. It sounded like he knew she wouldn't like it and she made herself remain still and silent. She was here so he had changed his mind about it.
"My mother, she said it wasn't the same. I hadn't thought about it that way. That you might not care about the things. It is always part of marriages I've seen, even ones based on love." She couldn't tell from his voice now what he thought, but she could feel the bond fluctuate. It seemed that he was trying to keep it open against the instinct to display less of his emotions. Hers was probably doing the same.
"Your relationship with your father is important to you and I don't want to be an obstacle. I'm sorry for that, not for being who I am, but that it isn't what he wants for you. The money though or what you can offer, please don't phrase it like that again. Don't ever think of yourself as a commodity." She did let her emotions show now, the indignation she felt at his estimation of her value of such things. The chuckle was low and she felt it more than heard it.
"That's something we have to talk about." He meant his father and she nodded.
"With your mum?" She asked and closed her eyes. Not wanting to move.
"It will be easier. If that's okay?" Hermione nodded her agreement and burrowed into him a bit.
"Can we see each other at school?" His voice sounded even but she felt his unsettled emotions.
"Yes. How though I don't know. I want to tell Harry, I don't know if I should though. The other things, I keep thinking of fifty things that one thing could effect." Tension eased from her shoulders as his hand began rubbing gently up and down her back.
"We could write." He offered and she thought about that. It was better than nothing but then they would have to do it circumspectly.
"That's a start. Something quicker would be better though. Like two way note paper." She was thinking aloud and his hum was a thoughtful sound.
"Do you like magic? I mean is there something you like best or a career you want?" Hermione just wanted to know something about him.
"I know what you mean. I like charms and astronomy best in school. I've always wanted to take over the family business. Cliche maybe, but father always takes me along when I'm home and I grew up there." She listened to the emotion in his voice and felt anxious all of a sudden.
"Your father." She spoke, not knowing what to say and he huffed in response. Frustrated and anxious himself.
"Maybe..." She began, knowing that she couldn't be the reason he didn't have the life he wanted. That was not something she could accept.
"No." His voice was firm. "I don't think my father will disown me or anything. I'm his only son, and he loves me." She relaxed slightly at the certainty in his voice. "The situation though, it's not normal. Not what I expected before. He would have been resistant and probably not happy about having muggle inlaws, or having to explain to his friends. But the bond, he will understand. Now though. This is not that set of circumstances." He sounded resigned and she just sent as much of her own uncertainty as she thought would be honest but not too depressing. Part of her thought it comforting, that he too found this all more than he had anticipated or even understood.
"Should we go talk to your mom then?" She asked. Unsure how many minutes had passed. Her body felt boneless with him holding her up and both had slowly been letting the bond be free. Feeling each other lessen their holds until Hermione wasn't paying it much attention at all.
"I don't want to move." She didn't laugh but did smile at the slight whine in his voice.
"We could do this again. I've never been so me, with someone else." His rush of emotions was surprising but not alarming. She closed her eyes again and let it flow around her.
"Will you kiss me again? Before we go in, or wherever." She didn't acknowledge the embarrassment at her request and neither did he. She felt his fingers find her chin and then tilt her head up. She only had a moment to look into his eyes before his lips covered hers and he kissed her. His hand held her head still and his lips and tongue explored her mouth. It felt like that, that he was trying to learn her. Remember. Having tensed in her uncertainty, she relaxed and as she did his posture changed. The bond hummed and he broke away, resting his forehead against hers.
"It liked that." His voice was rough and she nodded slightly, then met his dark blue eyes. Hermione felt her cheeks heat but didn't care. Everything in his eyes, the way his hands felt on her hips, and the magic between them said clearly that this was right, and it was just the beginning.
Adrian's POV
Hermione had wanted to walk to the house, and they only had two hours left before she had to go home, so they had reluctantly stirred from their idle. It had been unexpected and wonderful, their stillness together and what it allowed to show. With the bond open and them both calm, it had been eye opening. Most of the pressure was gone and the frantic feelings he had been experiencing for months now had faded too. This was just them, the bond wasn't pulling and it felt so good.
"Will you tell Marcus? Or does he know?" She looked up at him and he let himself have a small moment of wonder at them walking through his family estate, her small hand in his and the interest on her face. Her curiosity was strong and he smiled at her expectant expression.
"He doesn't know. I've never said anything but he probably does suspect." She nodded and then looked down.
"I've been thinking over the past months and even years. He's paid attention to me. Showed up a few times and loomed over someone or just up behind me. It was strange and he never said anything, I didn't even think about it until the past couple days." She was musing and thinking aloud. Sharing what came into her mind and he tried not to let pulses of his feelings travel too strongly, not wanting her to stop.
"He's like that. Doesn't like too many people, or have more than a casual interest in anything besides me and quidditch." He let the truth of that show in his words and she laughed. The approval in the bond told him that she was happy he had a real friend.
"Potter?" She shook her head and he looked towards the path they were on before back to her.
"Harry has blinders on about anyone not directly involved in his life and that is three people mostly. He noticed something going on with me, I've felt badly about adding to his worries. The tournament is enough for anyone." The rush of her feelings about that wasn't unexpected but it was unpleasant. His reaction surprised her though and she stopped. Looking to him for an explanation of his anger.
"I don't like it." He forced the words out. Knowing she deserved to know. "The situations you are put in. I know you love him and can admire the friendship you guys have. That doesn't make your proximity to him more palatable to me." A flare of defensiveness and then what he thought was something like consideration. When she started walking, he did too. The way it felt to just be here with her. Talking and feeling her close to him. No competition for her attention or anyone for her to moderate her behavior for. Sometimes his thoughts were as selfish as someone like Malfoy's.
"That's understandable, if I try and think about it from an outside perspective." He could tell that she was making her position clear. Potter was nonnegotiable and he would have been upset if he hadn't known that to be the case. He decided to ask the question that had been on his mind for months now.
"Do you still think about leaving?" He didn't look at her and knew from the flare of surprise, then uncertainty, that this hadn't been something she was considering.
His shoulders relaxed before she responded and it's brevity told him that she had felt his response to her emotions and considered that answer enough.
"Not for me." He understood that she meant her parents and frowned. Certain that he didn't understand her family at all, how they interacted or what they knew.
"Your parents." He started and she caught his eye. The slight air of resignation told him that this wasn't something she enjoyed, nor was it a new consideration. The way she bit her lip and looked down told him that she didn't have an answer either. Observing her for years was less creepy now and worth it.
"Might as well wait for your mother." He nodded and thought about what they would talk about. It seemed like nothing would be clear or simple even if a decision was possible.
Cynthia's POV
As she watched her son and the witch approach the house through the windows in her private salon, she let her thoughts run free for a time. What she had was a list of questions and the certainty that any way they turned would open them up to different vulnerabilities. Perhaps it was self centered, but her husband had been the foremost consideration in the past weeks.
It all seemed to hinge on him, for her personally. His reactions and decisions would decide how she went about whatever might happen in the coming years.
Nathan Pucey had been the second young man she considered for a husband and her firm choice. In her way she had then set out to capture his interest and then keep it. Knowing what kind of marriage she wanted, having had her parents to observe, his devotion to her was a goal. The reciprocation her offering to him. One that he had been sceptical of and then relished with the same ferocity he did his other interests. He was a complex man and she enjoyed that, usually. Now though, the pressures and uncertainties meant that he was less predictable than she would like.
This concerned their son, their Adrian. The only child they had conceived for all their years of trying and treatments. A miracle and the centre of their existence since the spell had glowed gold after nearly four years of trying. In that time, she had become closer with two witches of different years in school but with brains and cunning. It was the part of her life that fed her magical side. The witch and most of her Slytherin traits too. Narcissa Malfoy and Felicity Greengrass were true friends, they had supported each other in their trials and triumphs, both small and large.
Cynthia hadn't gone to them about this though. Each of them having differing views and perhaps eventual allegiances. The scope of the problem was overwhelming, and she couldn't make anything straight enough in her mind to make decisions. So she thought over again what she did know. Her goals. Adrian's survival and happiness, this now included keeping Hermione Granger alive and at least somewhat available to her son. Her own and her husband's survival was next and though it was troubling, she had less control over this. If he returned. She could barely contain her panic and she had been meditating each day since Adrian had first told her what Hermione had said. The meditation helped, but it was still almost impossible to think further than his return to their midst without nausea and fear overwhelming her. Pinny had not been pleased when she vomited on her rug. The elf had been watching her carefully for the same amount of time and knew that all was not right in their home.
With rapt attention, she watched the witch stop and look up at her son. Without thought she cast a magnifying spell and then turned the image. They weren't speaking but were certainly communicating. Their hands had been linked but now, as she watched, her son dropped the witch's small hand and brushed a curl from her cheek before cradling her face in both of his. Not wanting to cry before seeing them, she held herself outwardly composed. The witch dropped her eyes for a moment and she could see that something made her lift them again. She could barely believe the change in the girls face. Then her sons. Determination and a softness that was private. Personal. The bond. They were communicating with emotions. Unable to help it now, she let herself cry a few silent tears of joy and fear. Then she felt the door open through her wards and took a deep breath. The same spell that she had used on Hermione earlier removed the signs of her emotions and she sat down on her favourite settee and waited for her son and the witch that would be her daughter, one day.