Author's Note: Thank you for reading my fic and for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read this fic. I was very scared to post this but so far everyone has been very polite about this dead dove fic. If this fic isn't your cup of tea I completely understand. I have another eventual HEA WIP you can check out or feel free to come back in the future. I promise I have HEA and fluffy fics I plan to write in the future.
Couple of things: This is non-HEA. It's a dead dove, not happy Dramione/Theomione fic. I literally tagged it on AO3 as 'Cannot stress this is non-HEA and you will most likely hate almost everyone by the end' to emphasize the dead dove this fic is.
Trigger Warnings for this chapter: swearing, infidelity, sexually explicit content (graphic sex scenes), alcohol abuse, emotional abuse and PTSD are featured in this chapter. Age suggestion is 18 and over so reader discretion is advised.
Anyway, thank you for taking your time to read this and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Three
With the elegance of being a well practiced lady of standing Lady Hermione pushed her shoulders back whilst keeping her chin level, managing to pass by the guests without much notice or so much as a scowl thrown her way. It'd been quite the arduous task being trained by her mother-in-law to become the slightest bit tolerated amongst the pureblood families in attendance as agreed upon with her father-in-law.
She'd worked tirelessly to make herself appear amiable and accomplished in all the silly things society ladies were expected to be in. Ridiculous things like planning this damn ball, learning all the ever changing nuanced social etiquettes that were not written down anywhere, and turning a deaf ear to the whispered comments about her title spoken privately behind her back, the Malfoy Mudblood.
It took her several minutes to sweep past these self righteous social mongers toward a corner she could hopefully blend into whilst still being present as required. She never made it that far as the feeling of someone purposefully coming nearer her stilled her steps.
"You couldn't look any less out of place, my Lady."
Hermione's gaze was drawn to the tall man who'd appeared beside her from seemingly nowhere. He had kind hazel eyes with meticulously styled brunette curls that kept him looking boyish, in a way. A soft smile with all the traits of polite society traced his mouth as he looked down at her.
"Lord Theodore Nott." She recalled instantly.
His lips spread into a pleased grin.
"Indeed I am, my lady. It's been a spell since I've seen you."
He slipped his hand beneath hers to bring it to his mouth for a kiss. A social protocol that her waning body found intimately nourishing by its heated response.
"How do you find yourself this evening, Lord Nott?" She inquired cordially after she pulled her hand free of his grasp.
"Bored to tears, as a matter of fact. However, it seems my fortunes have turned to more favorable tides in the past minute."
She was internally startled by his statement. Was he speaking of her? Surely not.
"Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening, Lord Nott. If you'll please excuse me."
She went to move past him toward her destination of solitude but his broad frame shifted into her path.
"May I have the honor of your next dance slot, my Lady?"
Dance? With her? Why?
Hermione's mouth was slightly parted in shock before she remembered herself. With practiced grace she nodded regally and allowed Nott to take her hand gentlemanly and lead her toward the dance floor. It would've been seen as impolite to refuse one of her husband's acquaintances this social decorum. Naturally, he must only be acting courteous to offer to dance with her after being seen speaking alone publically with her. One of the many silly unspoken rules in this society.
Once they'd taken their place amongst the other dancers she gathered her expensive blue green silk skirt at her wrist, placing her hand that'd gathered the fabric within his, and her other hand slid across to settle on the curve of his shoulder. Nott's hand held hers tentatively as the other at her waist moved to splay his fingers across her back. The pull to bring her closer was subtle but enough to make her heart skip at the more intimate nearness to a man, a feeling that she lacked in her life.
The music began then and Nott had her twirling around the room gracefully.
"It seems you still have the ability to capture the entire room's attention with your dancing skills as you did dancing with that quidditch player during the Yule ball." He teased after they completed their first circle around the room.
She knew this, has had her husband remark viciously about it on a number of occasions, and assumed tonight would be no different. She didn't care. She's obviously more accomplished than he'd given her credit for and it bothered him to no end. It was one of the few pleasures Hermione had in this life of mundaneness.
"Thank you, Lord Nott. It's always a welcome delight to receive a compliment about a skill one has worked so diligently to master." She replied modestly, hating the false words as they left her mouth.
Nott seemed to know this and raised his brow.
"You don't like to dance." He concluded.
She bit the inside of her cheek, wondering if she should deny his assertion. What good would that do if he could read it so easily on her face?
"I'm not one for parties." She confessed quietly, glancing around and hoping no one else had heard her.
Nott chuckled a little which drew her eyes back up into his kind gaze.
"Not to worry, your secret's safe with me." He whispered colusivelly and it made her candidly smile.
Hermione noticed he had stepped a half step closer to her, making their bodies brush more often against each other as they spun in the practiced steps. The feeling sent such a thrill through her.
"I believe you've just returned from France, have you not?" She inquired conversationally to dispel the charged quiet between them.
"I have. I found myself in need of escape. What better place to reestablish one's sense of self after their family lost in a war than in their childhood summer home?"
She nodded understandingly. Nott was most certainly not the only person with family ties to the death eaters that had fled the persecution after the end of the Second Wizarding War. It'd been a cruel thing to watch innocent relations to truly heinous people take the fall for their poor choices.
"So, what has the lovely war heroine Hermione Granger done since bringing peace to our world?"
She glared sharply at Nott's glittering eyes.
"It's Lady Hermione Malfoy, as you well know. You also know what a lady of society is supposed to do."
He tutted.
"Yes, but none are you. You're wasted talent if you're only allowed to play hostess and plan galas."
She blushed furiously at this, unused to compliments as such.
"Well, I'm currently transcribing books into the modern English language for the national museum. I believe you were in my ancient runes class and you know how difficult that's been in the past for other scholars."
Nott nodded appreciatively at her.
"I was and I do know how tedious such an undertaking is. Nothing less than I'd expect from the brightest witch of our age."
Her heart fluttered at the compliment. A true compliment about a real talent she had. When was the last time she'd heard one?
"If you'd like, I could show you my current works another time, when you're available." She offered, secretly hoping to find some companionship in something she enjoyed immensely.
His hand that held hers seemed to tighten its hold at her invitation.
"I'd be honored to."
Nott's eyes had a strange light to them but it's dazzling to her. He was looking at her like...like a woman and not as the others did, which was as if she were merely a decorative piece of furniture. It soothed a need in her like a medicinal balm to a burn. A need to feel appreciated for herself, not whom she was by title or whom she was married to. It's then the music slowed and the dance finished. With great reluctance she stepped back from Nott who bowed deeply to her demure curtsey.
"Granger, until we meet again." He said in a heated low voice before he gave her a small wink and vanished into the crowd.
Hermione's cheeks flushed and she was sure her chest was too. She should cool off before someone noticed the state she was in. She managed to find her way onto the balcony and she stood in solitude beneath the ebony night sky, wishing on any hidden falling star above that she could find love or at the very least friendship in this very isolated life of hers.
Weeks later found her husband glaring at her over his cup of tea at the brunch table. Hermione ignored him because he cannot spoil her mood this morning. Nott was coming to call on her today to look at the progress she'd made on translating an ancient ruins book about the history of the third century centaur wars. Luckily, her husband rarely sought her out during the day so it meant she would be free to have her guest in her private study where she housed most of her current works. If she were careful she could avoid scandal by taking Nott into her personal rooms through the back stairwell.
"You're looking cheerful this morning." Malfoy commented unkindly.
She finished her bite of porridge, not looking up to see his stormy eyes on her. His temper of late had become rather unbearable. Perhaps he needed to take Astoria on holiday again to the continent to get reprieve from her since he seemed to verbally strike at Hermione any time he was within feet of her.
"It was a lovely evening last night and I'm well rested." She commented offhandedly, daring him to find fault in her words.
This was Malfoy though, so of course he would find something failing that she'd supposedly done.
"I'm sure it was, seeing as you humiliated yourself and your husband at dinner with my parents in that risque dress you saw fit to wear." He replied peevishly.
She didn't even feel phased, having become numb to his cruel, untrue remarks he'd say simply to be spiteful. With practiced grace she set aside her spoon and napkin, rising to her feet.
"I hope you have a lovely rest of your day, husband." She left him to his own bitterness, hopeful his mistress would come to call on him and help ease his foul temper.
Some time later found her standing awkwardly by the family floo fireplace, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for Nott's scheduled arrival. She fidgeted a little in her pastel daffodil yellow dress robe, the weightless material selected because it was her most comfortable outfit and made her feel pretty as it cascaded around her flowingly. Her gaze glanced around the room, looking again for nosy house elves who may run and tattle on her. Most of them adored her and would never say a thing. However Barnaby, Malfoy's personal house elf, had a certain loathing for his mudblood mistress. She avoided him at all costs.
At last the fireplace flared to life with a green flash of heat as Theodore Nott appeared within. His eyes shined upon seeing her when he stepped out.
"Granger." He greeted, again lifting her hand to his mouth to kiss attentively as he had the last time they met.
She couldn't stop herself from blushing.
"It's Lady Malfoy still, Nott." She corrected but even she could hear the weakness in her voice.
He chuckled affably as she beckoned for him to follow her down the hall. With another quick look around she led him to the back stairwell which he noted with a raised eyebrow.
"The house elves may take it upon themselves to cause a stir if I'm seen with a gentleman in my private rooms." She explained.
He said nothing further as he stepped through the door that she closed quietly behind them. They made their way without speaking up the stairwell lest some unwelcome ears heard them. After opening another door and leading him through a short hallway they at last made it to her sanctuary. She held the door open for him.
"Please come in." She offered, smiling delightfully as he walked past her, taking in the aesthetic of her personal parlor.
"I've not been to these rooms before in my previous house calls with Malfoy." He admitted.
Hermione closed the door behind her to give them privacy, ensuring it was warded but not locked from entry.
"No, you wouldn't, seeing as these are a set of the lady of the manor's rooms. Normally only the lord of the manor may enter but seeing as I'm not yet the official lady of the manor I'm allowed to invite whomever I please in here."
Nott nodded thoughtfully as he ambled through the room. She had redecorated the entire space, all six of her personal rooms, when she first struggled with being alone so much. All the wealth bestowed upon her by marriage could never replace the companionship she dearly craved.
Determined to not wallow in the bed she'd made herself, she'd found this purpose to be quite pleasing. Each room was themed around a specific color. Her parlor was tailored to a light powder blue complete with cream and gold accented furniture as well as warm wood finishings and ornate crown molding. After he took a turn about the room to appraise her style he stopped before a painting next to her.
"So, you meant to show me your current works?" Nott questioned, studying the painting by the muggle artist Monet that she favored.
"Yes, I keep them in my study. It's this way." Hermione moved to walk down another hallway to the very last set of double doors which she opened enthusiastically.
This was, by far, her favorite room.
It was an exact replica of the Gryffindor common room. Warm reds, medium brown wood finishings, and plush velvet furniture adorned the room. Shelves upon shelves of her most prized possessions lined the walls that made her sigh contently when she saw them; her books. It was the closest thing to home she had in this self made prison.
Nott looked impressively around the room.
"My Granger, you certainly have an eye for detail. It looks precisely the same as the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts."
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"How would you know what the Gryffindor common room looks like? I don't recall ever seeing you there."
He grinned impishly at her, making her heart quicken at how his smile lifted her usually subdued mood.
"Oh, there are ways, to be sure. A fun pastime for bored Slytherin boys who wished to explore places they ought not."
She laughed, a pealing sound she rarely found reason to use anymore.
"How scandalous, Nott. Sneaking into other common rooms to do who knows what."
"Mostly spy on girls, of course. A certain pretty Gryffindor lioness could always be found in one of the chairs close to the fire, far too busy reading to notice anyone not meant to be there."
She felt her cheeks tint a pink color. Nott was making her feel quite flustered. She's so unused to these interactions with anyone, let alone a man, that it took her until then to realize he might actually be flirting with her. Once she became aware of this fact she felt herself retreating. This was improper, she heard her mother-in-law's voice bark in her head. Perhaps she was mistaken because who would want to flirt with her, a voice that sneered like her husband pointed out.
Who would want to flirt with mudblood Granger, she thought. She was barely tolerated by anyone in their society and couldn't imagine someone like Nott finding anything of true interest in her. It seemed he could read her sudden change in demeanor because his hand reached out to gently pick hers up again, clasping it steadfastly.
"Granger, surely you know that you've always been pretty."
He spoke with such conviction and kindness that it made her carefully crafted social exterior crack for the first time in years. Unable to stop them she felt the welling of tears burn her eyes she fought to not shed.
"You can't say such things that you don't mean, Nott. It's too cruel if you're only offering polite niceties to flatter your hostess."
Nott's eyes flared with such ferocity it took her aback.
"Of course I meant what I said. I wouldn't speak such a falsehood for the sake of niceties. There are plenty of other things I could've praised you about that are more socially acceptable. However, I wanted to speak honestly to you and compliment you on something I've truly felt for a long time."
She was shocked by his frankness and found she didn't know how to reply. He seemed to sense this as his body relaxed and his face softened.
"Come on, Granger. Let's take a look at these works of yours."
Nott came to call on her frequently. It was the highlight of her week whenever he visited. She'd taken to dressing herself in her finer robes, doing her hair with more care, and even adding some natural makeup to her routine on those days.
They would spend hours reading over the texts of her current projects, working through ruins she was unable to translate alone, and researching ambiguous ruins to find the correct translation out of the multitude of options. The ease with which they could converse not only about her work but many other things made their time together all that more satisfying.
He was the lustrous light in her otherwise bleak, lifeless days.
It didn't take long for her eyes to notice the finer physical aspects of Theodore Nott. Of course he was very handsome and she supposed he always had been, even if she'd never noticed it previously. When he smiled he had a single dimple in his left cheek. He often had a sunburn across his nose from playing quidditch and his hazel eyes were more of a forest green with a spattering of brown freckles across his irises.
Nott was taller than Malfoy which she found unfathomable since her husband was more than a full head taller than herself. His height and broad structure were deceiving though when it came to the deference with which he treated her books. His hands were delicate as they handled the aging pages. He had such reverence for her tomes it made her thighs rub together excitedly to see his long slender fingers run searching strokes for answers within them.
Hermione became very aware of how physically starved she'd been when she started to imagine those exquisite fingers running those same light trails along her neck, the feel of them sprawled across her arse as he kneaded and squeezed her flesh, and how firmly they'd wrap around her thighs when he spread them apart with his large frame as he pushed her up against her study's bookshelves. When these thoughts entered her mind she immediately shut them down.
Nott could only be here to help her with her work as her friend, nothing more. She was married even if her husband she was bound to could barely stand the sight of her. It was way outside the boundaries of propriety for her to feel any of these types of things for him let alone allow her imagination to run away with itself.
Which led to her to scold herself mentally that day when an image flashed by her mind of Nott slipping a hand within the neckline of her dress robe as he leaned over her like he was doing right now. She couldn't help but admire how wonderful he smelled, a hint of sandalwood mixed with his masculinity and cleanness. Her throat cleared a little to banish the thought, moving her finger while pointing to the page they were reviewing.
"See, I think this is meant to translate as a question rather than a statement. However, the marking is all wrong to indicate the type of sentence structure it's meant to be."
Nott hovered lower, his cheek practically level with hers as his eyes roamed over the page. His nearness made her pulse quicken and she seemed unable to keep quiet when she sighed privately at his proximity. He hummed as his head nodded in agreement.
"Perhaps it's a misprint because, as you say, the sentence does seem structured to ask a question. Well done."
She saw him turn his attention toward her then and couldn't stop herself from also moving her face to look deep into his entrancing eyes. His gaze searched hers and she swore he looked at her as if he wished to lean in and press his lips to hers.
In fact, he did lean in slightly.
"You look ethereal today, Granger." He murmured as his hand that had been holding the back of her chair suddenly appeared at her cheek, stroking her soft skin with his knuckle.
She audibly sucked in a breath through her teeth. He was much nearer than usual, touching her much more intimately than he had before. She'd forgotten what a rushing thrill it was to be touched affectionately. Her eyes dived back and forth between his, seeking an answer for this sudden change in atmosphere between them. It's then he moved in close, his eyes darting to her lips.
"Hermione…"
When their lips met it was unlike any kiss she'd ever shared with her husband. It was a kiss of want, a kiss of desire, a kiss of unspoken passion. Theo's fingers sank into her expertly trained curls, bidding them free of their pinned constraints so they flowed freely around her face. Her own hands rose with uncertainty to rest against his cheeks, inexperienced as to how one should hold another when their mind was fogged with lustiness.
It did not take her long to figure it out as she found herself standing to be nearer to him. Theo stood over her petite form as his tongue pressed past her lips, seemingly requesting entry. She was shocked at the nonverbal petition but her mouth opened easily as her tongue submitted to his intoxicating ravishing.
Hermione had to cling to him, lest she fell. When her hands found the collar of his robe to hold tightly for support Theo seemed to take this to mean her willingness for reciprocation. His strong arms engulfed her body, pulling her flush to him, all while tilting and slanting his mouth over hers again and again that made her head spin with pleased delirium.
Rationale came to her at last as she pulled her lips back with a breathless gulp.
"Theo, we can't." She whispered, her chest heaving as she glanced wildly between his eyes after dropping her hands from his robe.
He seemed undeterred as he walked her backward toward the door and into her hallway.
"Yes, we can. No one else needs to know, Hermione, only you and I."
Her head shook, trying to find reason even as her body gave in to him steering her toward what she knew was her private suite.
"I made a vow, Theo."
An angry glint sharpened his eyes.
"So did Malfoy and where is he every night? I know he isn't warming your bed nor thinking of his obligation to uphold his end of those same vows."
Her chest tightened at this blatant truth he spoke. The distress on her face gave him pause as he stilled the pair of them outside her suite door, looking genuinely concerned down at her.
"Hermione, you must know how much I enjoy being with you. I find you captivating and cannot help but want to spend as much time with you as I can in any capacity I'm able to. You're so beautiful and it makes me ache to see you not recognize that. Malfoy should feel so lucky he has the ability to worship a goddess in his bed but instead he neglects to because he's a weak-minded fool. I want to pay homage to you, but I would never force you to do anything you don't want to do."
She's at a loss for words as she searched his face for any sign of disingenuousness. Theo's eyes held hers unblinkingly, reaffirming the truth he'd spoken to her. It's in that moment she forgets her vow and doesn't worry about the possible consequences of knowing another man other than her husband. She's so very curious to know what he could possibly mean by his words of adulation.
Before she could change her mind she gave him a short nod.
Like a pilgrim arriving at the shrine he'd long sought out, Theo humbly lowered himself to his knees before her. Hermione watched in awe as his hands found their way beneath her light grey silk gown, sliding the fabric slowly up her body to reveal her naked skin beneath as he watched her reactions with great admiration.
She doesn't know what to think as her widened eyes take in his gaze that lowered to where her intimate skin was clothed in lacy black knickers. Fortunately, he doesn't give her time to decide between self consciousness or wantonness. A deep, stuttering breath rushed through her lips when he pressed in and the wet heat of his tongue stroked against her cloth covered clit. Oh Godric, she thought dizzily as her fingers clenched into fists. She would've fallen weak kneed were his hands not wrapped around her waist as he held up her skirt.
A sigh of rhapsody escaped Hermione's lips toward the ceiling as Theo continued to tease her through her knickers. After minutes of his torturous seduction she couldn't keep her plea to herself any longer.
"Theo please. I want to feel you."
Without further prompting his hands vanished from her waist, letting the fabric of her clothes fall over him and shroud him in secrecy.
Unable to see what he was doing, Hermione became hyper focused on what she felt instead. She could feel his hands run along the sensitive skin of her trembling thighs, barely touching her as they made their way up to meet where his tongue extolled his pleasure at pleasing her. She could feel his low hum of satisfaction vibrate against her swelling clit, sending a sharp pulse of euphoria through her body. When his fingers slid beneath the flimsy fabric to pull it down she was very aware of the feel of the expensive lace scraping down her thighs and calves. As she bent her leg to slide her foot out of the useless cloth a strong hand gripped her around her knee and moved her leg up to rest over his shoulder. At last she felt him lave languidly through her folds up toward her sensitive clit.
Hermione couldn't help but moan then, loudly. Never, never had she felt this way she thought as she banged her head on the door she had to lean against for support. It was a type of intimate bliss she didn't know possible in these moments behind closed doors. She didn't care if anyone heard her as Theo continued to venerate her with his skilled tongue, drawing her clit into his mouth to suck and taste.
It wasn't long before she's rolling her hips against his mouth, the tight cord deep in her abdomen twisted as her body built quickly toward her release. Theo's name came out as a mewl with each stroke of his tongue, her hands holding his head atop of the fabric he was sheathed beneath as he brought her closer to completion.
A sudden shift beneath her skirt was the only warning Hermione had before she felt two of his fingers slide between her slick folds, curling forward to press against the pad of flesh within her that sent her spiraling. With a whimpering cry she flung herself over the edge, coming harder than she can remember as his tongue rolled over her nub frantically while his fingers pushed against her pulsating walls to bury deep inside her. Hermione's leg she stood on gave way as she came down from her intense climax and a sudden pang of discomfort, so subtle she hardly noticed it, clenched her chest before disappearing. Luckily, Theo caught her hips, steadying her so he could lower her other leg to hold herself upright before he slipped out from beneath her gown and rose to his feet.
She kissed him then. Her tongue licked her come off his lips and she couldn't help but enjoy how delicious their combined taste was. Without further hesitation she gripped the front of his dress robe to pull him into her suite, making sure the door slammed closed behind them.
Theo pressed an open mouthed kiss into her naked shoulder, sighing against her skin.
"I could wake up to you like this every day." He muttered, brushing his nose along her shoulder blade.
Her soft giggle made him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her back flush to his front. Their legs wrapped around each other as they lay in her bed, leisurely watching the sunset out her balcony glass doors. She always found the most pleasure in these moments with him after sex. Even six months since the first time they came together, the thrill of simply being in his arms brought the most intense feeling of contentment in her otherwise miserable days.
"So could I. At least we have these afternoon naps to enjoy, even if we never sleep." She teased.
Theo hummed in agreement and she felt his lips on the back of her neck.
"Perhaps someday there'll be a morning we can make this happen."
Hermione stilled at this. It always upset her when he spoke like this. Theo knew better than to speak of impossibilities. It was something they'd agreed upon.
"You're angry with me." He said after her prolonged silence.
Hermione sighed gently, running her hands over his that lay across her abdomen.
"You know how I feel for you Theo and would like nothing more than for that to be our reality...but…"
She didn't speak further because she didn't need to. He knew it to be a fact and to dream of such things would only bring heartache to them.
"I wish I'd found you instead of Malfoy." He whispered achingly into her ear, his arms tightening around her to hold her possessively against him.
Again, dreams and wishes, things Hermione tried to not imagine because reality was too harsh to return to. Yet they were here now, together, in this moment that was their own reality to share secretly together. She slowly sat up then, bringing the sheet of her bedding up against her breasts. Her head turned to look down at him.
"I love you, Theo." She whispered with so much emotion it made her heart swell painfully.
He lay unmoving then. It was the first time she'd said it first to him in all their times together. It was an admission of a feeling she had shut away in her youth that until now felt like it had no place in her current life. When he didn't reply right away she felt her chest constrict. She worried perhaps he had only meant the embellished words before because he was thrusting deep within her or groaned the words as she rode him because it's what he thought she'd want to hear. Why wasn't Theo saying anything?
She felt his fingers slide up her back slowly.
"Hermione, you know I love and adore you."
Her feelings of apprehension eased into elation as he rose to sit up next to her, pressing heated kisses into her neck.
"I'll love you until death takes me from you and even then I'll still love you." He confessed fervently as his lips sought hers.
She's so moved by his words she cannot help but deepen their kiss, find herself turning her body to crawl atop him, open herself to him as his hard cock slid into her again, slowly love him for the man he was with her heart and body until they both cry out each other's names.
She ignored the uneasy pressure that came from her magic. It had been a constant annoyance of late along with a physical ache that followed her around constantly in her chest. She'd thoroughly researched the phenomenons and had turned up nothing to explain what they were. Perhaps she was over reacting to natural changes that came with aging. Her lips unhurriedly pressed afterglow kisses into his, each one affirming her own undying love for this incredible man.
It was another quiet evening at the manor as Hermione returned from a walk through the gardens. She needed this time outside these walls to keep from going stir crazy. Her ambling found her stepping into the sitting room that separated her rooms from her husband's when she halted abruptly.
The man in question was lounging in an overstuffed chair, a leg thrown casually over the arm of his seat, and his eyes stared distantly into a tumbler of what she could only assume was a strong drink. He never came into this room, preferring to spend time in his own rooms or visit Astoria at the flat he'd purchased her. It's then he took notice of her and his face tightened angrily.
"If it isn't my doting wife." Malfoy said contemptuously, swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler.
Hermione's back straightened as her mask of indifference slipped into place.
"Husband, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
He snorted, obviously amused by her flowery language.
"Don't stretch yourself too hard, Granger. We both know you've never been pleased by my company, not even before the day you took my name."
His tone is haughty and petulant as he sets his glass down next to him to refill with liquor from an almost empty decanter. She doesn't deign to answer him. It's obvious he's drunk, again, as he seemed prone to be daily nowadays. He still seemed to be stewing in an even more horrid mood than usual and had been for the better part of a week now.
"I apologize. I can see I've disturbed you and your current occupation of time," she motioned to his drink. "I was merely passing through. I'll take my leave to allow you to imbibe in your solace."
She went to leave him to his drunken shenanigans.
"Aren't you going to show concern for your husband and ask why he's drinking alone in the middle of the day?" He mused in a taunting voice.
A sigh of exasperation slipped silently out of her mouth before she turned to face him again.
"I would assume you're passing the time waiting for Astoria because she's running late again."
Malfoy's eyes flashed up toward her and she's surprised to see pain in them before they clouded over with animosity.
"Astoria's gone." Malfoy muttered bitterly, drinking deeply from his glass.
Hermione felt herself still, completely blindsided by this news. Astoria left? When? Why?
"She's to be married to Baron von Warburg tomorrow in Germany." He whispered, his voice cracked with grief-stricken emotion that she'd never heard before.
Her Gryffindor heart couldn't help but feel some empathy for her husband's plight even if he wouldn't appreciate the feeling. She wouldn't let him know that though.
"I see."
It was the only appropriate response she could think of upon hearing her husband's love of his life had left him.
Malfoy's eyes were full of malice as he sneered at her.
"Yes, I'm sure you see. At long last you no longer have your rival. Now it's only you to soothe my ailments. How fortunate for me."
Hermione bristled at his implication.
"I never once thought of your mistress as my rival, husband." Her emphasis on the title he has in her life made his sneer deepen.
"No, you wouldn't, seeing as there was no competition between you and her. Was there, wife?"
A soft breath sucked deep into her chest. That was cruel, even for him to say. It seemed he'd only told her about his dilemma so he could take his pain and frustration out on her. Well, she would have none of it. With as much grace as was bestowed upon her station she lifted her chin high.
"I'm sorry to hear your mistress is marrying another man, Malfoy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have pages I need to begin to translate."
Hermione turned then, walking with strength and poise toward the door to her rooms.
"Will Nott be joining you today?"
She halted her step. A shiver of anxiety rushed down her back as she slowly pivoted to face him again.
"No, he will not." She supplied cooly, gauging his response.
Malfoy drank once more from his tumbler, finishing the last of the expensive substance off.
"Come to think of it, I haven't seen Nott for almost a month now. What happened? Did he get tired of crawling between your legs, Granger?"
She gasped loudly because of his vulgarity but more importantly he knew.
He knew about Theo.
He glared at her then.
"Did you honestly think my house elf never took notice of his comings and goings? That I never checked the wards? Here I thought my wife was the brightest witch of our age. Apparently, what intelligence you have with your book smarts you lack in common sense. You also never did pick up the skill of occlumency nor did you learn to tell when someone is subtly performing legilimency on you."
Hermione felt sick to her stomach at the violation he was admitting to. He'd gone into her mind, rifled through her memories, and saw her private moments with Theo.
How dare he.
"You had no right, Malfoy!" She hissed venomously.
He smirked brazenly at her.
"You're my wife, so I believe you'll find that I do have every right."
She would hear no more of this drunken man's vitriol. Theo would be back in a few days from his trip which couldn't come soon enough. She needed to speak to him on her husband's revelations about their relationship. For now, she glared wrathfully at the miserable excuse of a man before her.
"You're a caustic, hateful hypocrite, Draco Malfoy. You've no right to judge me and how I find comfort given your sordid past. I've been nothing but kind and respectful to Astoria considering the circumstances with which we've found ourselves in. Then again, you wouldn't know a kind act if it bit you in the arse. It's such a disservice on the part of your parents to have spoiled you for so long that you're incapable of handling disappointment and have to lash out at whomever you please when you don't get your way. I refuse to engage in your maliciousness to soothe your aching heart. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your evening as I found you; alone."
She swept from the room, not looking back when he called after her disparagingly.
Malfoy was in her parlor the following morning, making her stop short at the sight of him. He rarely, if ever, came into her rooms.
"Wife." He said quietly, looking surprisingly calm given their previous altercation the evening before.
She pulled her morning dressing robe tightly around her, as if it could protect her from whatever intent he had for being here.
"Husband, is there something you needed?"
He seemed to contemplate his words as he looked impassively at her.
"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last evening. It was uncalled for and petty of me."
Her eyebrows raised in shock.
Malfoy had never apologized to her.
Ever.
"Alright." She said after an uncomfortable length of time where he looked at her expectantly.
They stood silently as she waited for him to excuse himself. When he didn't she moved to go about her morning, leaving to her dressing room and hoping he'd take the hint to go. After she'd dressed for the day and arranged her hair in an elegant twist she returned to her parlor intent to find jewelry for the day in her locked safe within her suite.
He was still sitting there.
"Is there something we need to discuss husband, or may I move on about my day?" She asked, trying to not sound annoyed at his continued presence.
It's then he rose to his feet, standing with a rigid look about him.
"I'd been waiting for you last evening with the intent to speak on a matter of importance before our disagreement. My father has become rather cross about our lack of progress in producing the next Malfoy heir and our disregard for our binding vow."
Hermione blanched at this. What?
"Why? He hasn't bothered to care for the last almost four years of our marriage." She retorted sharply.
Malfoy's lip thinned.
"Have you not noticed it? Does your body not ache and has your magic not become inexplicably faulty?"
She stilled at this shocking question. How had he known this? It had only been recently she noticed her magic felt a bit off and seemed prone to a lackluster performance. The aching though…that had been going on for ages now. He must be reading her mind because he nodded.
"It started for me shortly after we returned to the manor. At first I thought nothing of the aches. Perhaps it was aftershocks from the cruciatus curses I endured during the war…except it kept getting worse. Eventually it became physically unbearable to even kiss Astoria let alone share a bed with her. That was a year ago and then it started to affect my magic. I've been able to keep it in check but of late it's become unmanageable. I can hardly stand to walk into a room without it becoming unstable and lashing out unless I drink. It's been rather insufferable, particularly these past six months."
Six months. She and Theo had been together for six months now.
She scowled a little.
"What of it? That's not my problem, husband. Perhaps you should've more thoroughly researched this binding as you told me you had."
Malfoy stared ominously at her.
"Perhaps you didn't hear me. I speak of our joint binding, wife. I've finally made contact with that old coot who married and bonded us. It turns out the Divination books we both agreed were nothing but silly nonsense may have had some truth in them. The ancient magic we vowed upon will make us comply. You may not feel the full extent of the physical implications yet but you are no fool. You know you will. Once the physical ramifications are catered to so you no longer can stand to even hold Nott's hand then your magic will be next."
Her heart fell at this revelation. How the devil was a Divination book suddenly a source of real factual knowledge? Her husband continued when she made no remark.
"It seems you've been spared my father's recent lectures or the ones from mother because you still can control your magic and they know nothing of your physical ailments. It's been a constant discussion between them and I of late after they discovered the truth of my outbursts."
"You said you researched this! You assured me that it was a simple fealty to each other and nothing more, Malfoy!"
He glared hatefully at her.
"I did research this carefully to find the best option for us to make our agreement that neither of us could back out of last second. I didn't think it would have such devastating consequences as the actual scientific textbooks made no mention of these extreme measures the vow magic would go to."
Hermione stomped her foot.
"It's old magic, husband! You should've known it would do this because of that very reason."
The look of utter contemptment he had for her now shone bright in his eyes.
"Well, I didn't, and we're both here now. My father is insistent we must fix this before it gets worse and as uncontrollable as my magic is of late, unless I'm completely drowning in liquor, I have to agree. I cannot continue like this. The physical ache of breaking the binding vow is barely tolerable but only being able to use half of my magic, and mostly uncontrollably, is completely unacceptable. Besides that father is most concerned about the legitimacy of the Malfoy legacy, particularly after he was informed about your new acquaintance with Nott."
Her chest tightened with lack of breath as she felt like she'd fallen into an ice bath. Not only did Malfoy know about Theo but so did her devious father-in-law.
"Naturally, he became concerned with the idea of you not taking precautions to ensure a true Malfoy is the rightful successor. Who knows what ramifications that could have on our binding. Between that and the obvious reaction our bodies and magic are having from not complying with our vow he has decided to take it upon himself to fix the issue. Which is why he visited with Byron Greengrass about the situation between Astoria and myself. It's at his insistence she be engaged and married off to a man in another country since...since I couldn't let her go."
She wanted to scream at him or perhaps punch him as she'd done in their youth even as he looked like a rather devastated man admitting his father stole his happiness away. How was she to know her father-in-law had now decided to unleash his patriarchal menace? Mafoy never spoke to her of such things nor did any of her family members even say more than a few forced words to her in any given week either.
"It's imperative we submit to our binding vow. Our magic, mine more so than yours at the moment, will continue to become unstable until we do. Once the magic is completely out of control the only thing left according to the books is my sanity. We will rectify this before it gets to that point and also restart our pursuit of an heir as my father insists." He concluded.
She felt her stomach lurch at that last part. He wanted to start sharing her bed again. The bed she shared with Theo. The one he'd taught her what true love really meant these past six months.
Absolutely not.
As if he could, or most likely was, reading her mind Malfoy moved to stand over her threateningly.
"You already made your choice, Granger. We are bound together. As much as I loathe every single part of this there is nothing to be done except remove the extramarital barriers and submit to its will. You knew what you were agreeing to the night you accepted my assistance and took on my name with all that it entailed, including giving me my legitimate heir. You can't break that vow now because it's inconvenient for you and we both know it."
She stared hard at her husband, knowing he's right and loathing everything about him in that moment. She wished she'd never asked for his help, that she'd been more resourceful to retrieve the cup and fang herself. She wished she had a time turner so she could go back to warn herself of the miserable life she was choosing and save herself from stepping into that binding circle.
But that wasn't the reality of the situation and she knew she'd have no other option but to eventually comply.
His electrictrified magic-laden eyes watched her reactions, staring at her with just as much contempt for several long minutes.
"Well, wife?"
She swallowed a large lump of emotion stuck in her throat.
"I would like more time to prepare."
Malfoy practically snarled at her.
"You've had your time. You cannot stall this any longer to try to find a way out. I will not risk losing my mind to this binding craze to satiate whatever needs you think are more important than my health. My father will not tolerate any dallying as you've heard what lengths he went to for Astoria and I to separate. He's an even less patient man than I am. If you do not submit, it's not me you will need to fear, but him."
He left her then, as he had all those years ago in the tree grove, to fall apart on the hardwood floor under the weight of her choices and try to find a way to accept this reality.
Days later found Hermione nervously pacing her parlor awaiting Theo's return from his French chateau where he'd been called to correct long standing issues with the wards. Now she had to confront him with the truths she'd discovered and discuss what it meant for them.
A crackling roar from within the fireplace and a flare of green fire brightened before dimming to reveal Theo at last. Her breath caught as she saw his brilliant, kind hazel eyes smile along with his broad grin.
"Hello love." He said sweetly, striding quickly to sweep her up tight against him as he bent his head to kiss her soundly.
She swooned at the feel of being in his arms again after all this time. It was heavenly until the throb of her magic practically stabbed her chest and she remembered the devil that was her husband.
She pulled back breathlessly after he snogged her for several minutes.
"Theo, we must talk." She pleaded, trying not to needily whimper as his lips trailed a hot path along her neck toward the swell of her breasts peeking out atop of her peach colored dress robe.
"Can we talk and play? I've thought of nothing but you since I left and how I plan to take my time showing you how much I missed you."
She almost agreed until another sharp ache squeezed in her chest and the severity of the situation came to the forefront of her mind.
"We can't, Theo, this is important."
He sighed in frustration and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. It took him a minute to calm himself before he brought his indulgent gaze back up to hers.
"Alright love. What is it we need to discuss?"
The nervousness she had felt for days to reach this moment almost made her physically ill. She looked down at her hands on his chest, unable to stand to see his reaction as she delivered the news.
"Malfoy knows about us."
She almost looked up when he chuckled darkly.
"I figured as much. He hasn't extended an invitation to me to visit in months. I don't care that he knows. He has his mistress and he can't very well make you stop seeing me while he keeps her."
Her lip drew between her teeth as she built the courage to speak again.
"There's more."
She went into detail about Malfoy's explanation of their straying from their binding vows to each other, the side effects he'd been experiencing in secret until it became too evident to hide any longer, and the drastic consequences to come by not complying. As she spoke he slipped away from her, his face becoming more distraught as his feet carried him at a quick pace back and forth before her.
"Not only that but Lucius is demanding we resume our efforts to produce an heir." She whispered in a teary voice.
She didn't have to see his face to know Theo was devastated by the news. His whole body froze except his arms which dropped to his sides with fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Did you tell Malfoy fuck no?" He asked heatedly.
Hermione looked up at him in surprise.
"Of course not, Theo. He's my husband and I made a vow to have an heir with him. Once I have he's agreed to leave me to my books and my own solace."
Theo stared disbelievingly at her.
"Hermione, you can't be serious."
She frowned deeply at him.
"Theo, I made a vow. I cannot go back on that."
He began to pace the room, his hands running through his curls in panic.
"You can't, Hermione. You cannot tie yourself further to Malfoy. Once you have a child you'll never be rid of him."
Hermione felt a flare of anger at his words.
"What do you mean, Theo? I'm bonded with him for Godric's sake. There's never been a scenario since I became Hermione Malfoy that I would've been able to remove him from his role in my life."
He seemed to find his anger as well as he glared at her.
"So that's it then? You're just giving up on any chance for us to be together?"
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, dumbfounded by his words.
"Theo, why are you doing this? I can't unbind from my vow until I'm dead. You know this."
It seemed he'd forgotten by the glacial stare he gave her.
"I see. Well, Lady Malfoy, I think it best I take my leave."
Hermione felt a wave of fright take hold of her.
"What? Theo, please don't go. We must speak on this."
He swept past her flabbergasted posture back to the fireplace where he grabbed a handful of floo powder atop the mantle before entering the fireplace.
"There's nothing further to speak on, Hermione. Go do your wifely duties as you wish."
Hermione watched as he threw the powder down at his feet, called out Nott Manor, and vanished in a swirl of green. She stood there for hours, staring in disbelief into the fireplace that the love of her life had left her to face this alone.
