"Are you sure that you're okay?" Ron asked for the millionth time that morning. He had absolutely no idea just how prepared she was to hex his mouth shut.
"Yes, Ron. You can stop asking me," Hermione groaned, but the statement wasn't heeded. He was sitting in front of her desk in her office, his eyes wide like a puppy's, words tumbling out like the frantic apology of a cheater.
"But the wards," he continued. "They were everywhere. And your fireplace? Blocked! You never do that. Harry nearly sent Aurors to break them all down!"
Hermione had the decency to look a bit guilty at that. She could feel Harry's worried gaze on her from across the room as he leaned against the wall beside her door. Yes, there had been wards over her house for the past twenty-four hours, and yes, her fireplace had prevented anyone from visiting her. Unbeknownst to her until late last night, that had been Draco's doing. While he didn't give two shits about Harry and Ron (or any of Hermione's friends, really), he hadn't felt like being harassed by anyone should they had come over unannounced and found him leaning his fiancée over her couch and taking her from behind. In hindsight, Hermione was quite grateful for that.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "As I'm sure Harry told you, I had a rather traumatic experience the day before. I just wanted to be alone, that's all."
"As long as you're okay," Harry said with a soft smile. "We were worried, you know?"
"And that's much appreciated, thank you," Hermione replied to him. Although still concerned, Ron smiled too, and tension finally drained from the room. It would have stayed that way had a letter not materialized onto her desk.
She recognized the handwriting as that of her future mother-in-law and opened it immediately. As expected, it was about wedding plans. Narcissa had been writing to her since the conclusion of breakfast yesterday morning. The woman was tickled pink at the prospect of planning the "wedding of the century," —something of which the brunette was quite happy about. Weddings, while beautiful and lovely ceremonies, always left her questioning their extravagance. Was it really necessary to have flowers hanging from the ceiling? Crystal chandeliers? It just screamed of financial debt. However, curse aside, Hermione had lucked out in the marriage draw and landed a wealthy suitor. She would let Narcissa propose what she thought best without complaining, choose what complimented her tastes, run it by Draco, and then send off the final decisions to his mother. This letter in particular was asking about centerpieces for the guest tables.
"What does she want?" Ron questioned with the deepest level of disgust he could produce. Clearly, he had seen Narcissa's signature at the end of the letter.
"There's no need to sound so offended," Hermione huffed as she replied to Narcissa's note. "It's about the wedding. She's helping me to plan it."
"I beg your pardon?" Ron sputtered.
With her quill still scribbling away, Hermione briefly looked up from her writing to find what she had expected: a mixed expression of horror and confusion. She dared a glance at Harry, still in his corner, and found only confusion.
"You heard what I said, Ron. I am getting married, remember?"
"Yeah, but against your will. Why are you having a wedding?"
"Maybe because it's my only chance to have one?" she exasperatedly replied. "The circumstances surrounding this whole endeavor are frustrating at best. The least that I can do is try to make it work."
"And you need Malfoy's mum's help for that? Why would she even care?"
"Oh, I don't know, Ron, perhaps because I'm marrying her son? Merlin, am I going to expect this kind of behavior from you right up until the wedding?" Hermione grumbled as she roughly folded her response to Narcissa, sealed it in the original envelope and tucked it away to send later. Ron opened his mouth to speak once she was finished, but closed it at the feel of Harry's hand on his shoulder.
"I think he's just surprised," Harry intervened. "Last we were aware, the Malfoys weren't exactly fond of you, heritage aside."
Hermione snorted and cracked a small smile. "As if they are now? They're making the best of this situation. There's really no point in fighting it."
Hermione missed the looks that Harry and Ron shared due to the knock on her office door. In fact, she had set her eyes on it before the knock was even placed. It was just like the night the curse had taken effect, minus the insatiable pull. A prick in her heart had told her when Draco's thoughts had drifted over to her. That he wanted to see her. Her heart fluttered with anticipation the closer he came, and now that he was here, she ignored Harry and Ron completely to unlock the charms on her door and rise to her feet.
Draco stepped into Hermione's office with an air of superiority that only a Malfoy could embody. His eyes roamed over Harry first with a frown fully set, and then repeated the process with Ron, albeit his mouth morphing into a hideous sneer.
"Figures," Draco huffed before turning a soft gaze to Hermione. "Are you alright?"
"Of course she's alright," Ron scoffed. "She's with us."
"I wasn't talking to you, you little shit."
"Draco," Hermione sternly hissed. "If I have to tolerate your parents, the least you can do is the same with my friends."
"That's right, Malfoy," Ron laughed. "You'd better be good before I-"
"You do one thing to him and I'll slit you in two," Hermione harshly interrupted. She hadn't meant to sound so vicious, truly, but it had been automatic. The mere thought that someone would hurt Draco, friend or not, had sent her into protective mode.
Ron gulped, once again looking to Harry as though to comprehend what has just happened. Hermione cleared her throat and resettled her attention on her fiancé. He was the only one who appeared to be unperturbed by her outburst. If she dare say it, he seemed both proud and and aroused by it.
"To answer your question, yes. In fact, Harry and Ron were just leaving."
"But Hermione,—" Harry started, but Hermione cut him off with a raise of her hand.
"Please? There's enough testosterone in this room, and one of you is bound to draw a wand at some point. We'll talk later."
Deflated, Harry solemnly nodded and urged Ron with a nudge of his head to follow him. Ron got up with a low grunt and made for the exit, not taking his eyes off of Draco for a moment. An awful mistake, he realized, for the blond seemed happy as ever to make him feel uneasy. Ron and Harry were out in the hall now, Hermione's door closing, but not fast enough to miss Draco take Hermione in his arms, whisper in her ear, and see her smile before he kissed her.
"What the hell?" Ron exclaimed as the door finally closed. He turned to Harry who's mouth had flopped open just the same. "You saw that, right?"
"I wish I hadn't," Harry gulped. "Just last week she was fussing about an arranged marriage, and now she's happily planning a wedding and—"
"—kissing Malfoy…"
Both men shuddered at that last fact, an uncomfortable silence trickling between them the longer they stood outside the door.
"Think he cursed her?" Ron tossed out the idea. Harry frowned and shrugged.
"Normally, I'd say that you're exaggerating, but I don't know. The most we can do right now is just watch her."
In less than a week Hermione was in Malfoy company aside from her fiancé, but unlike at breakfast two days ago, the brunette was alone. Draco and his father had "business" to attend to which left Hermione to keep Narcissa's company. It was perfect, or so Narcissa said, because then they could get a proper handling on the wedding rather than going through letters.
"And you're sure that you don't want to have the wedding here?"
"Can you ensure that the Manor doesn't have any ancient boobytraps made to attack muggles and muggleborns?" Hermione questioned with an arched brow. Narcissa was poised to speak, but she kept anything that she might have said to herself and acquiesced with a tilt of her head.
"I shall look for a venue then. Something with an abundance of flowers, I think."
"And maybe something scenic? A backdrop of a lake or a cliffside?"
"A cliffside castle," Narcissa smiled brightly as she took down a note on some parchment. "The wedding would have to take place at sunset to take advantage of the view."
Hermione found herself grinning. A sunset wedding did sound lovely. She could see it now with her in a modest gown, Draco before her with the sun bathing his skin in a luscious light. She wanted nothing more than to marry him. It didn't matter if just a few days ago she would have preferred to pitch herself from a tower than to be forced to marry. What she knew was pointless. All that mattered was what she felt, —something of which she would be the first to admit was entirely contradictory to her nature. Feelings were important yes, as was following one's heart, but logic needed to reside there too. As it stood, logic was quite secondary these days.
"Narcissa, can I ask you a question? Something not wedding related?"
Narcissa looked up from her parchment and presented a soft, knowing smile to her. "Curse related, I imagine?"
Hermione nodded. "I just… Do you ever feel out of control? I lashed out at one of my friends yesterday when he made a comment about Draco. It was so instantaneous and harsh. I couldn't help it."
"That, I'm afraid, will always be an automatic action. Draco's the love of your life now. You would do anything to protect him, and he would do the same for you. If anyone threatens that, then Merlin help them. Oh, the times that either Lucius or myself have acted on pure impulse," Narcissa added with a happy hum and a far-off expression as she drifted into her memories. "It has led to messy cleanups, I assure you."
"How you've yet to land in Azkaban astounds me," Hermione scoffed. Narcissa merely gave a half-smirk and the most ladylike shrug she could manage before calling upon a house elf for tea.
"Friends in high places, cunning, and luck," she replied. "When a kill is planned, however, we are much more strategic. We prey on the homeless. The muggle homeless. It's quite easy to disguise a magical death that way, not to mention keep suspicion away from you."
"Of course," the brunette said with a nod. "The Killing Curse is most often diagnosed as a heart attack in a muggle. But I wonder, if I don't kill anymore, will I still go mad?"
"Yes. The madness is insidious. A whisper here and there and feelings of dread. The longer you go without, those whispers turn into screams and you start to see things. In the end, you feel like you're dying."
Hermione's mouth slowly formed an "O" as Narcissa spoke. It wasn't the matter-of-fact way that she had spoken, but rather the sadness that she heard creeping into the older woman's voice. Hermione cleared her throat and tentatively said, "You've felt this before."
The room fell quiet. It made the apparition of the house elf that much louder as the creature set down a tray with a pot of tea and two cups. Narcissa didn't speak as she made hers, and Hermione remarked how the woman's hands trembled ever so slightly.
"As you're well aware, Draco's father was sent to Azkaban at the end of Draco's Fifth Year. That business at the Ministry was Lucius' chance to kill for us. It had been difficult to do so before then with the Ministry watching us so closely. We had already begun experiencing the negative effects. When he had been arrested, it became worse. I…saw things. Things that put Hogwarts ghosts to shame and worse than any nightmare. Not only was I going mad, but I didn't have Lucius at all. As for him, well, to this day he refuses to discuss what it was like in Azkaban. His sanity worsened by Dementors? I shudder to think…
'I know that you think poorly of me for sending that vagabond after you, but no one should suffer the things that my husband and I have. It's far worse than any death you can inflict on another."
"I suppose I should thank you," Hermione bitterly responded. She didn't mean to sound so dejected, but she didn't apologize for it either. Instead, she asked another pressing question. "How long does it take before the madness starts to creep in?"
"That depends on you and Draco. The effects of a kill last as deep as the love a couple has for one another. My suggestion to you is to kill as soon as the whispers begin. You don't want to completely lose your head and then have to kill. There's nothing worse than a wand at the helm of insanity."
Draco was never particularly fond of going to Gringotts and avoided it whenever possible. Whereas Gringotts on the ground level was bright and welcoming, the vaults were dark and depressing. Carved entirely from an underground cave, it was nothing but jagged edges, never-ending freefalls, and the promise of something wet dripping from above and spoiling the shoulders of your expensive cloak. Thank Merlin for stain-repellent and water-resistant charms.
"Vault 87," the goblin announced as their cart slowed to a halt. Draco mulled over the digits for the Malfoy vault as he and his father got out. It was rare for anyone to have vault number so low. Families with such vault numbers mean that they had had treasures to keep for centuries, therefore the most heavily guarded.
For the Malfoy vault in particular, the price of entry required a bit of pain —and it was red.
"It's your turn," Draco said to his father. Lucius sighed in annoyance, but he took out his wand anyway.
"She's your fiancée," he said as he cut the tip of his finger. With a bubble of blood, he walked over to the entrance of the vault. A giant snake made out of stone sat curled in front of it, its tongue sticking out. It was on the tongue that Lucius placed his bloody finger, and the snake retracted its tongue, the entire stone creature slithering into a newly revealed hole just behind it, and the vault's gates clicking until it opened.
At the risk of sounding pompous, the vault could blind someone if not careful. Everything glittered from galleons to jewels and armour to painting frames. Draco and his father passed all of this to the rear of the vault and to a glass case that held rings in velvet boxes. They were the Malfoy engagement rings. Malfoy men used them to propose to their witches and, through complicated magic, upon the witch's death they ended up right back in their case. Each ring was special. They were imbued with spells to "enhance" the witch and considered a gift from her suitor. His mother's ring was meant for beauty and slowed the aging process due to the jewel (akin to the philosopher's stone) that sat in the middle of the band. Of the rings that were left sat one for protection against harm, another for increased wisdom, and one for never-ending love.
Considering the nature of the Malfoy family curse, no one used the latter unless it was the only ring left. That left the first two for Draco's choosing and an easy choice for the young blond. He reached out for the ring designed for wisdom and stared at it. It was simple in design compared to the others with a silver band and a single diamond in the middle cut into a hexagon. He smiled as he thought of Hermione wearing it. It suited her.
"I would have thought you would choose the one for protection," Lucius said as he watched from the side. "We can't rule out any of our rather unsavory friends to attempt to hurt her."
"While true, I think Hermione can handle herself just fine. Besides," he added as he held up the ring to the light, "she'll appreciate this much more. She does love learning, after all. What better engagement ring than one that emphasizes that?"
"Hmm," Lucius mused as he eyed his son. "How insightful… You know, Draco, despite having courted your mother for nearly a year prior to proposing, I still hadn't a clue as to what her favorite color was. Yet here you are, matching a ring to the personality of a woman you've been at odds with for years."
"At odds with, yes, but not blind to," Draco countered. He slipped the ring into a velvet box and stowed it away in a pocket on the inside of his cloak. When he looked up, he found his father staring at him with the most peculiar expression. It prompted the young blond to expel an exaggerated sigh. "Don't give me that look. I went to school with the woman for years. I was bound to pick up something about her that wasn't curse-induced. Shall we go?"
Lucius' lips curled upwards, but he said nothing more. He followed his son out of the vault and it closed itself once they were both gone from it. The goblin who had accompanied them had been waiting, and they took the rather lengthy journey back up to the surface so that they could return to their women. Draco was quite sure that Hermione would be bored out of her mind by now. At least she wasn't stressed by anything. Her discomfort, he could freely admit, was something that ached him. He didn't have to be told that she was upset, he simply knew. It was why Draco had suddenly left his office yesterday and went to hers. That damn Potter and Weasley… It was as instantaneous as the night she killed, and he just had to be there.
"We should go out for dinner," Lucius said once they had left Gringotts and began their journey through the streets back home. "You can present Miss Granger with the ring then. I think it would please your mother to see the young witch's reaction. What do you think, Draco? Draco?"
Lucius paused his walking for a moment to turn to look at his son, but Draco's hand on his upper arm kept his father from stopping completely.
"Just walk," Draco hissed. Lucius' brow twitched, but other than that his face remained still. He did as his son said and kept his pace. Instead of heading towards the Leaky Cauldron, they walked passed it. They made their way towards Knockturn Alley —an action Draco took, not for precaution, but simply to see if their stalker would continue to follow.
He did, and while impressed, Draco was also at his wits end. He caught his father's eye and moved his gaze through the mist to an upcoming alleyway darkened even more than Knockturn Alley itself. Lucius nodded and they disappeared into the silvery fog before slipping into the alley. Their fair features made such an action laughably easy, but red hair was almost impossible to mask without magic or at the very least some kind of hood or hat.
Draco grabbed Ron by the lapels of his cloak and pulled him into the alley. Lucius was waiting for him with his wand at the ready. A simple body bind, but the variation used didn't let him fall to the ground. Ron was a solid statue, frozen in his movements like a poorly crafted piece of artwork.
"Mr. Weasley," Lucius drawled as he tucked his wand away, "what an unpleasant surprise."
Ron's eyes were the only things he could move, and although a heated glare required facial muscles around the eyebrows and cheeks to be fully executed, hate was interestingly easy to discern.
"You're either very brave or very foolish for following us, boy."
"Foolish," Draco deduced and took a moment to set up charms and barriers on the alleyway so that no one could hear or see them. When he was finished, he turned back to the frozen menace and smiled. Hate had dissipated and was slowly being replaced with fear.
A sudden rush flooded Draco and from the corner of his eye he could see that his father had a similar blood lust in his eyes. He wondered, though, if it was because of the curse or simply because they both had a deeply-rooted disdain for the man who was now at their mercy.
"You know, with the spell my father used, I could topple you and you would smash into pieces." Draco stood in front of Ron with one arm behind his back, his wand hanging in his free hand and lightly tapping against his leg. "One good push," he happily sighed, the tip of his wand sticking in Ron's chest, "and you could be swept away by a gust of wind. And do you want to know the irony of that? Doing so would only make Hermione and I get closer."
Ron made a muffled noise, but both Malfoy men laughed at that. Draco lowered his wand, however, and tutted.
"It's a shame that your death would make her upset. I would have loved to kill you."
"You're going to let him go?" Lucius stared at his son quizzically. Draco nodded, a frown slowly forming.
"I don't have a choice. I live to make my witch happy, you know that. You understand what it feels like."
"I do," he replied with a solemn nod. "I must point out, however, that she won't be very pleased with our treatment of him."
"Nor with his stalking behavior," Draco added. "Regardless, precautions shall be set." His wand that had been limp at his side was raised again and aimed at Ron's head. "Obliviate."
Ron's eyes went wide as the spell left Draco's lips, but there was nothing that he could do. Draco didn't erase much, but enough to remove this moment from the alleyway from the redhead's mind. When he was finished, a Stunning Spell rendered him unconscious, yet still within his statue form.
"We've been away from home long enough," Draco said once he was through. "We should go —and yes, I think giving Hermione the ring over dinner would be a lovely gesture."
"Good," Lucius said proudly before giving Ron one last look. "With any luck an unsavory character will find him and finish the job."
"Here's hoping," Draco chuckled as he took off the spells he had placed on the alleyway. When he was through, both he and his father continued on their journey back to Malfoy Manor.
Author's note: Hermione's the only reason Ron isn't dead. Whew! Thanks for reading everyone!
-WP :)