Disclaimer: I in no way shape or form own Harry Potter or anything related.
Authors Note: First of all, a huge, giant, enormous thank you to everyone who reads my stories. You keep me writing. Second of all I'm sorry to keep you guys waiting, but my computer is once again gone, and I'm getting a new one for Christmas. Trust me though, I've been trying to get this chapter done as fast as possible.
The king of the castle sat comfortably in the den with Marcus after breakfast that morning. Neither one said a word to each other, but both had the guest upstairs on their mind. It was the first outsider to be told about what exactly they were keeping inside the manor.
Marcus stirred uncomfortably in his chair and turned to the blonde, "Why are you doing this? You remember how they were, and yet you let him come back into her life."
Draco shrugged but didn't answer. He couldn't answer, because he was asking himself that very same question. After the argument with her he asked himself questions every chance he could. He wondered what he could do, and every time he came up with the same answer – nothing.
Hermione couldn't catch her breath. She didn't step forward or take her hand off the bedpost, she just stared. Her thoughts and her actions weren't working together. She didn't have to stand there any longer though; he approached her cautiously and then reached out to touch her cheek.
A smile formed on his lips as he felt her, "They all think you're dead. I thought you were dead."
His accent had faded, that was the first thing she noticed about him. But not word left her mouth.
"Hermione, don't you remember who I am?"
She nodded, "I- I just don't believe it."
They didn't know what to say to each other. Too many feelings were rushing back. All Hermione thought about was her fourth year and how much better he made it, and all he could think about was seeing her after the months of grieving.
"Viktor how did you know I was here? And how exactly did you get to the manor?"
"How else? Draco."
She shook her head and went to sit down. The room was spinning, her thoughts were rushing around in her brain a million miles a minute and she couldn't breathe. Forcing the words out, she placed her head in her hands, "Draco? Viktor, you're a deatheater?"
He quickly rushed over to the couch and got on his knees in front of her. He reached out to hold her hand but she pulled away.
"Hermione, I am not a deatheater, I promise you. I was just as shocked when this happened as the rest of the world was. Draco sent me a letter the other day saying he wanted me here for a banquet of some sort, but there was nothing about the wedding or you. It was only when I got here that he told me. That's all I know, and you know I wouldn't lie to you."
In her whole time at the manor that was the most sincere thing she heard. She took her head out of her hands to look at him, "Does the ministry know Draco was behind it?"
"Yes. But they can't do anything about it."
The two of them just sat there for a long while; as if they ran out of words to say to each other. Then something occurred to her.
"You were invited."
Viktor tilted his head slightly and shook his head, "No I wasn't. I never got an invitation."
"Yes you were!" Hermione stood up and paced in front of him, "Viktor I know I'm not going crazy. I personally mailed you're invitation. I remember."
"I never got it Hermione. I swear it, because if I did, I would've come."
She turned her head sharply, "If you would've come then –"She stopped dead in her tracks, "He must've got it somehow. Draco must've known, and he got it, that's why you didn't get it, because he didn't want you there."
Viktor slowly stood up and clasped her arms in his hands. He stared deeply into her once warm brown eyes and sighed, "Hermione, please. I can't bare this. Everything's happening to quickly."
"Too quickly? Viktor I watched everyone get murdered at my wedding and woke up the next morning here without anything left in this world. I'm the last person to explain the definition of quickly to."
Hermione tore away from him and retreated to the window. She loathed how the sky was blue, the grass was green, and how the leaves were turning colors. It was all beautiful; but it shouldn't have been, it should've been repulsive. All of it.
Standing right behind her was Viktor Krum, someone she hadn't talked to since she was a teenager, but she wasn't happy to see him.
This was all because of one man and his evil heart.
With angry tears once again welling up in her eyes she turned to Viktor, "Take me with you. Please Viktor, I can't be here anymore. I can't."
As much as he wanted to make her wish come true he couldn't. He rushed to her to keep her from falling to her knees. As he moved stray strands of hair out of her face the look in his eyes changed. Hermione was quite startled to see fear in his eyes.
"Viktor?"
He kept his feelings from her and took her hand, "Lets meet him down in the gardens for lunch."
They were just in time. As Draco heard their footsteps he sat up in his chair and stared in their direction. He watched as Viktor sat her in her seat, the way her eyes were puffy, but the thing that got him the most is that she wouldn't even look in his direction. He clenched his fork as he took the first bite of his salad.
There was an awkward moment of silence between the three. Only silverware hitting the plates, and glasses touching the table were heard. At one point Draco ushered one of the houseelves to bring more wine.
Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. Throwing her spoon down she didn't glance at Draco or Viktor before storming off into the gardens.
Viktor was the only one to take notice. As he started to get up Draco glared at him.
"Don't go after her," he hissed.
"Well I can't let her be out there alone!"
"She's done it more than once, Viktor."
Viktor knocked over a few glasses out of pure anger. Slamming his fist down on the table he sneered, "Don't you see her? Draco has she smiled since that day? The day she witnessed you murdered her loved ones? You claim to love her?! This is not love; keeping her locked up like an animal. Are you really th—"
Draco shot up and furiously marched over to Viktor, "And you love her? You abandoned her for a Quidditch career."
"That's nothing compared to what you've done, Draco. You've fucked up her entire life. She'll never love anyone again! She can't have the children she wants –"
Draco smirked before cutting him off, "She didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"She's already pregnant."
Viktor's mouthed dropped.
"So shocking? We all knew her and Potter were fucking around way before they got married. It was a matter of time."
Viktor looked at the man in front of him with disgust, "And you still keep her here even though she's having a child? What kind of person would do that? Draco I know there's shred of humanity left in you."
"Well you thought wrong."
Running a shaky hand through his hair, Viktor stared into those cold eyes he knew too well, "Tell her that I will see her again. But Draco you know this will end badly, it's inevitable."
Draco knew he wouldn't utter a word to anyone about her. He couldn't, because if he did then he would be linked with the dark lord, and that would mean goodbye to everything he had as well. He shook his head and started on his way to the gardens to find her.
It was a big mess. Everything was, and Draco for the first time was feeling guilty. He knew that it was sick, but there was nothing he could do to reverse it. And even if there was something to reverse everything – he wouldn't. He loved having her with him; Even if she despised it.
It was a matter of time before he found her. There she sat, under an elm tree by the pond. She looked prettier than a painting. Her skirt neatly tucked under her, her arms folded in her lap, her caramel tresses cascading down her shoulders. It was hard to ruin the peace.
He took a seat beside her and stared out at the horizon, "Viktor said that he would be back to see you."
"You wouldn't let him back," she answered without an emotion visible.
"Why not?
"Because you're selfish, Draco."
At the same time they turned to look at one another, and at that moment they both understood what the other felt. The lion was the first to make the move. She cupped his cheek in her hand and pressed her lips to his. He gently caressed his lips with hers, and soon the gentleness became fierce. He groped every part of her body and eventually was on top of her. And through all this she accepted it, even dared to match it. As her hand rested at the hem of his pants, her other hand ran through his hair. Every feeling of hate was surging through them and into the other. Draco kept his lips glued to hers but grabbed her wrist and pinned them to the ground. His tongue invaded the sticky-sweet environment of her mouth, and explored each area.
"You don't hate him…"
As the two went on, a couple of spectators stared at them through the window.
Lavender turned away from talking to Marcus and sneered.
"We're going to be late. He said be here sharply at five, and he's out there."
As calm as she sounded, inside she was enraged. She couldn't stand the sight she was witnessing.
More notes: I hope you guys liked that chapter. So far it's my favorite. Hopefully I can get the sixth one up soon.