Chapter Two
The moment they stepped foot out of the fireplace and into the living room Hermione shrugged Draco's hand off of her back. She immediately turned on him and pointed a finger in his direction. Her eyes blazed with the flame of anger. Draco loved it when she got riled up. She was the only witch that would be able to keep up with his jabs. The only one fully equipped for a mental sparring match against him, she was after all, the brightest witch of their time.
"Don't touch me," she hissed at him, "just because we are now bound together does not mean you get to touch me!"
Draco put his hands up in mock surrender, his lips twisted in an amused smirk. "Your wish is my command, my dear, but I don't think that I will be able to keep that promise for very long, not if the Ministry has anything to say about it This is the second time in the last twenty four hours that she had cried uncontrollably," he added with a wink, "I am positive the Ministry wishes us to do more than touching."
Her face flamed, a crimson color dusting her cheeks. "You! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach! We will never do that."
"Do what Granger?" He asked with feigned innocence. He started slowly moving towards her with a glint of amusement in his eye.
"You know what, THAT!" She spit out at him angrily. She slowly started backing up, trying to stay as far away from Draco as she could. Her back hit a cold wall that she leaned against while watching Draco cautiously.
"The know-it-all Granger can't even talk about sex," he said mockingly as he stopped in front of her. His hands went to either side of her head, trapping her against the wall. Draco slowly leaned in towards her, keeping eye contact with her, daring her to try and stop him from being near her. He could feel her breath quickening as it caressed his face. He could sense how uncomfortable she was, but he didn't care. This was their future, it affected him as much as her, he would get his magic taken away too if they did not follow the Ministry's orders. Of course, Granger wouldn't see past her own morals, her own sense of what was right, to see that.
Hermione tried to stay as still as possible, uncomfortable with being this close to a boy who used to tease her mercilessly. If she moved her head forward in the slightest their lips would touch and she knew he was trying to make her feel uncomfortable. She refused to let him know that he affected her in any way. Her hands were beginning to feel clammy so she buried them in the side of her robes and started balling them into a fist, worrying the black fabric at her sides. Her heart was beating at an erratic speed and she tried to focus on breathing to calm it down to a normal pace. She had a headache from the meeting and the pounding in her ears was only clouding her thoughts even more. She needed to think of a way out of this mess. She quickly looked around the room trying to avoid eye contact and make an escape plan but Draco had other ideas. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "Oh Granger," he said, "you know we are going to be doing more than talking about sex, don't you?" He drawled out the last few words, portraying his meaning. He laughed when he saw the anger flash back into her eyes. He dropped his hands and turned away from her. He was walking out of the room, effectively ending their conversation.
She stared at him in fury 'how dare he!' She thought. She immediately spit out a retort, "I hate you, you are a vile creature, nothing but a-a-a heathen!" Draco calmly turned back to Hermione. His eyebrow shot up, he had the look of indifferent amusement on his face, but he could feel the ticking of his jaw muscle betraying his angry annoyance.
"Yes, Granger, I am nothing but an animal, a heathen, a monster, a death eater," He hissed at her coldly. His silver eyes turning dark, "You will do to remember that I am not a person to be messed with. I am a powerful wizard, Granger, and I will not let my magic, my birthright, be taken away from me. I have done terrible things in the name of self-perseverance and I have no doubt in my mind that I will do them again to protect myself and my family. I do not care if I have to tie you down to perform the tasks deemed necessary by the Ministry. Both of our lives are at stake, Granger, remember that!"
With that he stormed out of the room. He didn't know where he was going in his new house, he didn't know where anything was, he just knew he had to get away from that infuriating witch. How did she not understand what was at stake? He didn't expect love and happiness, but he did expect acceptance. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He knew this wasn't going to be easy for either one of them, neither of them even liked each other. Granger, was at the very bottom of his acceptable witches to marry list, but he accepted this as his fate. You didn't see him throwing a fit about it. He tried to calm down. He knew this was hard for her, merlin, it was hard for him too, but she had been in a relationship with the weasel. She had probably pictured marrying him and having a lifetime filled with love and happiness. Draco never had that luxury, he had always known he would have an arranged marriage. The most he could hope for in a marriage was a quiet life, living peacefully together, just coexisting. Now he could no longer hope for even that, he already knew he was going to have to fight Granger on everything. His marriage was going to be anything but quiet, his marriage was going to be explosive. Well there was nothing he could do about it, he was bound to this maddening witch.
He finally started taking in his surroundings. He was in a hallway, lit by ornate candelabras hanging from the wall. He noticed with a grimace that the walls were a maroon color. A deep red with wood crown molding creating patterns on the walls. He reached out and traced his hands over the wood. It reminded him of the walls of the manor, but less cold, less harsh then the ones at home. It seemed the Ministry had spared no expense for their puppets. They would spare no expense to make their home seem happy, even if their marriage was anything but. Draco had the sudden urge to explore this fake home. If the walls were this ornate, he wondered what other falsehoods the rest of this house held. He looked down the hallway and was almost surprised there weren't fake pictures of them on the wall. Smiling and laughing at each other, things he imagined would be staples in a real home. There were pictures on the walls, none of the happy couple, but one picture caught his eye. He drew in a sharp breath as he realized what it was. It was a picture from the gardens at the Malfoy Manor. It was beautiful. It was nighttime in the picture, the moon shining down on a white gazebo by the lake. Exotic flowers surrounded the gazebo and the lake was shimmering in the background, almost as dark as the night sky. The sky was lit up with stars. It looked serene, peaceful.
His mother took great pride in her garden. She always joked with him when he was growing up that her garden was the one place that she could nurture as much as she wanted and it would never tell her to stop. Draco was hit with the memory of the first time she had said that to him, he was a young boy, about five. He had asked her why she spent so much time playing in the dirt when he wasn't allowed to play in it. She had laughed at him and had kissed his cheek before explaining that with all her nurturing and love her garden was going to grow to be beautiful, just like him. He now understood what his mother was telling him, that her garden would always need him, but he wouldn't. He leaned against the wall with his head down and eyes closed. He saw his childhood play over in his head, saw how he cherished his mother and followed her around everywhere until eventually he didn't. He saw himself spend less time at home and more time with friends. When the Dark Lord lived with them he barely acknowledged her existence, hoping the Dark Lord wouldn't see his mother as his weakness. He blinked back tears, suddenly overcome with home sickness. He would be a better son he promised himself. His mother was the one person that always saw the good in him, that always saw his potential. His mother always believing in him. His father was the opposite, he had to prove to his father that he belonged in the Malfoy line, that he could do great things. While his mother always trusted in him.
He mused at how different his parents were. His mother had her cold front she put on for the public, but at home she was a loving and caring mother. His father was demanding and calculating. Draco knew that Lucius loved him, he just didn't know how to show it. He was cold, with few words of praise aimed at Draco, and even fewer signs of affection. Draco could count the number of times Lucius had shown him affection. Nine. Nine times his father had shown him outward signs of love and not in the form of a hug. It was usually a quick clap on the back accompanied by a word of praise. His father gave love sparingly, while his mother tried to drown him in her love. They were complete opposites, but they had a happy marriage. They loved each other fiercely. Maybe there was hope for his marriage? He shook his head of his thoughts. Let's just hope that Granger accepts this marriage and then he could start to hope for a peaceful married life.
He looked down the hallway again, lined with doors on either side. He thought about exploring the house again but was drawn to the door in front of him, next to the painting of his childhood garden. The door was a deep mahogany wood, and was carved intricately with snakes that surrounded a giant dragon in the middle of the door. The dragon looked to be guarding something, but Draco did not know what. The dragon seemed to be beckoning to him. He stepped closer to the door and traced his fingers along the dragons face, marveling at the skill that it must have taken to carve something so intricately, before moving to the golden door handle. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped instead. A giant grin lighting his face as he took in the contents of what this room held.
Hermione did not move after Draco left the room. His words left her shaken at the core. Of course he was right, although she would never admit it, this did affect him too. She had to learn to accept this for both of their sakes. She had worked too hard to become a successful witch to let something like this stop her. She could not give up her magic, it meant too much to her. She had nothing left for her if they took her magic and returned her into the muggle world. Her parents wouldn't recognize her and she had lost contact with her muggle friends during the war. She would have nowhere to go, she would have no one, and she would have nothing to show for her life. She couldn't leave her friends. They were her family now, and they needed her as much as she needed them. She would have to accept this fate, but that did not mean that she would accept it right now. Right now she would mourn the loss of her future. She sat down on the plush red couch and cried into her hands.
She had lost her relationship with Ronald and her future plans in one day. She had expected to marry Ronald in a few years. She thought he would have asked her soon and she would have told him no that she wasn't ready and to ask again later. He would have asked every year, until finally one year, when she felt confident in her career and he held a good position with the Auror, she would say yes. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she tried to wash away her fantasies with her tears. She cried until she had no more tears to shed. This was not her future anymore. She allowed herself one more sniffle as she straightened up. She could not mourn forever and she could not cry anymore if she wanted to. It was time for her to get in control of herself. It was time for her to accept her new fate. She wiped away the wetness on her cheeks and wiped her nose on the arm of her robe. She bit her lip and stood, slowly taking in her surroundings.
The fireplace that she flooed into had a very large wood mantle. Each corner of the mantle held a large, carved Dragons head. It's head facing the center with its mouth open. It looked to be breathing flames towards the center of the fireplace. The flames eventually turning into swirling flowers. It was beautiful.
On top of the mantle were pictures of them with their friends. Hermione studied the pictures of Draco. He looked so much younger in all of them. He was tall, and very skinny. He almost looked lanky, very different from what he looked like now. Hermione grabbed a picture of Draco to inspect further. His face was etched with a lazy, carefree smile, and his hair blew in the wind. He held his one arm around Blaise, who threw his head back in the picture and laughed, his other arm was wound around Theo, whose smile just grew wider in the picture's enchantment. They all looked so happy, how could one go from being this happy to going down such a dark path? Hermione did not understand it. She let out a small sigh and placed his picture back down on the mantle, before looking over at the rest. There were some pictures of Draco with his friends and some with his family. In every picture he looked like a proud wizard, a man who knew who and what he was, except for one. In this picture Draco was by himself. It must have been recent, for a man, not a boy looked back at Hermione. His skinniness was replaced with strong muscles. His soft childhood face had been replaced with sharp lines and a shadow of a beard traced his jaw. He was holding himself tall, one hand was in his pocket and the other hand was bent and tucked into the front of his robes. He looked confident and tall, but his eyes seemed sad. When was this picture taken? Hermione set down the picture. She felt as though she has just learned some big secret about Draco, but what it was she didn't know and she didn't have the mental capacity to figure it out tonight.
She looked over at the pictures of herself. She looked happy in all of them, surrounded by friends and her heart ached. She wished she could go to them now, but the Minister had told them they weren't allowed to see them tonight. She wished she could talk to Harry, he always knew what to say to make things better. She needed his comfort right now. She wanted to go to Ginny, to see how her friend was holding up. To give her the support and comfort of a friend, of someone who understood what she was going through. Most of all, she wanted to go to Ronald, to have him wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be okay.
She wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from the fireplace. The room held two large maroon couches with plush silver pillows. There were two chairs tucked in opposite corners and the walls were a deep grey with wood trim. The artwork on the walls were all in silver frames. Hermione frowned and looked around. The only colors she could see were maroon and grey, their house colors. They blended beautifully. She turned towards the pictures on the mantle and noticed how they were all integrated. Her pictures all had silver frames and his were all in gold ones. They were intermingled perfectly. She sighed and turned back around. She could only imagine that the rest of the house held this color theme. It looked beautiful, but she wish she could have decorated it herself. It was just a reminder of the two very different lives the Ministry was trying to intermix.
Hermione decided she would explore the house, after all this was going to be her home. She walked out of the living room and across the hall was an immaculate green study. It held two large wooden desks and a large bookcase filled with books. Hermione had wanted to go in there and see what books the room held but stopped herself. There were many places to explore in this house and she would have time to read the books later. She walked pass the double glass doors that enclosed the study. There were stairs that led to the second level of the home but Hermione continued further down the hall and came across the next room. It was a large kitchen. The cabinets were painted grey but the counters were a beautiful white and grey marble. There was a large island with hanging lights. Across from the island there was a beautiful long wooden table, she presumed for when they had guests over, as it was much too big for only two people. Next to the table was a large patio door. Hermione quickly made her way towards it and opened it. She stepped outside into the night looking at her new backyard. She took a deep breath of the sweet spring air and finally felt herself relax. She had stepped out onto a large deck that overlooked a beautiful flower garden. There was a wooded area to the left and further down she could see a lake. The moon shimmered across the surface making it look magical. Hermione closed her eyes and took in a few more deep breaths before she turned around and headed back inside. She already felt happier seeing all the greenery her new backyard held.
She walked back into the open concept dining room and saw another living room adjoining the dining room. She walked through it saw that it mirrored the other living room, except it did not feel as formal. She figured the other living room must really be a formal sitting room and this area of the house was now more of their living area. This area seemed more homely and comfortable. The walls were not lined with portraits or paintings but had giant windows instead. There were sheer maroon curtains that covered them but still allowed the moonlight to play across the floor. The fireplace in the center of the room had the same intricate carvings as the one in the sitting room.
Hermione could see herself living here, she could see herself sprawled across the couch with a book in hand, reading while the fireplace cackled. She could see herself cooking dinner, while Draco scowled at her from the couch, making a comment about how she was doing something wrong. She almost giggled at the thought, she had to get the idea of a normal marriage out of her mind. That is not how it would be and she knew that. Still, this house gave her a false sense of belonging and normalcy. Their predicament was anything but normal.
She continued down the hall and found a washroom and a closet. There was one more door down this small hallway. As she neared it she saw the same beautiful carvings on the door, but this one was different. In the center of the door was a lion. The head was surrounded by petals, giving the illusion that the flower had bloomed the lions head. There were smaller flowers "falling" around the lion. It was breathtaking, Hermione wished she would be able to meet the person that could create such magnificent work. Hermione had never been artistic, even though she had longed to be. She wasn't very creative, she didn't have the head for it, she had the head for numbers and facts. She slowly opened the door and stopped dead in her tracks taking in her surroundings.
The room was large and painted a deep green, there was a large fireplace in the center of the room, with one large green plush couch and gold pillows scattered across it. There was a lavish grey rug in front of the fireplace. The walls were covered in bookshelves that were overfilled with books. Hermione had only ever seen this many books at the Hogwarts's library. She stepped into the room and instantly ran to the shelves, taking in as many of the book titles as she could. She was excited to start reading, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. She still had to explore the rest of the house and the exhaustion from today's events were still heavy on her shoulders. Even the library could not save her from her weariness tonight. She would sleep and come back here first thing in the morning. She grabbed a book off of the shelf, so she could read before bed she reasoned with herself, and then left the room. Closing the double doors, she wondered if all of the houses were exactly like hers, no theirs, she corrected herself. Ron and Pansy wouldn't appreciate a library she mused. She walked back to the front of the house and made her way up the stairs.
This hallway was maroon now, instead of the grey that adorned most of the walls downstairs. The walls were lined with artwork of landscapes that she had never seen. She moved her way down the hallway and opened the first door to the right. Inside was a bedroom. A guest room, Hermione thought, although who would stay here and visit she didn't know. Across from the bedroom that she just walked out of was another carved door. A dragon stood in the center of the door and she had the urge to go and touch it, but decided not to. She could sense Draco was through that door and was not ready to confront him yet. She would explore that room later. She moved down the hallway opening up occasional doors. She had discovered some closets, some more bedrooms, a washroom, and even a nursery. She rolled her eyes at that one. At least the Ministry was thorough if nothing else. She moved her way to the last door. The door had another large dragon in the center, its wings folded around a lion with a flower mane. The two magical figures were surrounded by snakes and flowers. It was a work of true art. Everything in the carving looked flawless and effortless like it belonged there. The snakes mingling with the flowers, as though they had always belonged together. It was stunning. Hermione already knew what would be behind this door but she held her breath and opened it.
The candelabras along the walls instantly flickered to life, illuminating the immaculate room she had just walked into. There was a large bed in the center of the room, with lush silver blankets and a maroon quilt. The bed was in front of another large fireplace. The walls were maroon with silver and gold curtains adorning the windows. There were three doors on the left side of the wall, she opened one and saw Draco's wardrobe. Dark grey dress robes and green ties greeted her. She closed that door and moved onto the next one. She opened this door and was welcomed with a familiar sight of gold and maroon. Her wardrobe. She smiled and walked in before grabbing a night shirt. Once she found what she needed for bed she exited the wardrobe and made her way to the next door. A large en suite was found behind the last door. Two large marble sinks, a giant soaking bathtub, a standing shower, and another closed off door that she assumed held the toilet. She washed her face in her new large bathroom and got ready for bed. She changed and headed into the adjoining room. She opened her wardrobe and threw her soiled clothes in before making her way to the bed. She threw back the covers and sank into the bed. It felt so good to be in bed, after the crazy day she just had, that she almost moaned. She felt like she was on a cloud surrounded by warmth. The silk grey comforter cocooning her as she sunk further into the mattress. She rolled on to her side and felt like she would be asleep in an instant.
Draco was busy at work in his potions room. He was chopping and cutting ingredients that the Ministry had so generously provided him with. Doing meaningless tasks helped him calm down. He didn't have to think to crush beetle eyes, his hands knew what to do. He could do all of this in his sleep, muscle memory from the numerous times he performed these very tasks. He had always shown an aptitude towards potions and he had loved to make things with his hands. Potions required a precision that Draco had mastered at a very early age. Brewing potions and always helped him cool down. The familiar scents of herbs surrounded him and settled his nerves. He didn't have time to brew a potion tonight, it was getting late and he knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake to watch it appropriately, but he could prep ingredients. He could feel a calm wash over him and he didn't know if it had to do with the task he was performing or if it had to do with his connection to Granger. He felt her as she drifted off to sleep. She was content and peaceful, which allowed him to be at peace. This bloody connection was a nuisance. He couldn't tell if he was calmer because she was, or if it was his own tranquility he was experiencing. His connection with her and his own emotions were so entangled right now the he couldn't tell them apart.
He finished his task and swept the crushed eyes into a bottle, capping it, and labeling it before setting it down on the table. He glanced at the clock and blanched. How could it be one in the morning already? He tended to get lost in his work, but he was surprised that he had been able to stay upright for so long. Now that he knew the time, his exhaustion seemed to set in. His legs ached from standing for so long and his shoulders were tense from the day that he had just endured. He quickly washed his hands and exited the room. He paused just outside of the doorway, he could feel the pull towards Hermione, at the end of the hall, but he really didn't want to go there. Instead he turned and made his way down the stairs and into the sitting room they had first entered the house in. He grabbed a blanket that was draped across the back of a chair and made his way to the couch. He was too tired to argue with Hermione about sleeping in their shared room. He could feel her grow restless, almost like she could sense him contemplating joining her.
He laid down on the couch and closed his eyes, but sleep would not come for Draco. He was fidgety and tossed and turned. He didn't know how long he struggled to try and sleep before he heard Hermione enter the room. She stopped under the archway, and just stared at him. He could feel her eyes watching him, patiently waiting for his to meet hers. He sighed and slowly sat up on the couch and turned his face towards her. His eyes finally meeting her chocolate ones.
"What," he mumbled, as he took in her appearance. Her legs were bare and she was wearing a light night shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. He moved his eyes up along her body and took in her womanly shape. Her shirt was thin and he could see the hardening of her nipples, he quickly scanned past them and reached her face that held an annoyed expression.
She rolled her eyes at him. "I can't sleep now that you are sleeping."
"I'm sorry," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
"No," she said, "I don't think you understand. The Minister said that we had to sleep together. I was able to sleep earlier because you were not sleeping, but now that you are trying to, I cannot. So come to bed, stay on your side, don't touch me and we can maybe get some sleep tonight." She turned on her heels and headed back upstairs. Her heavy footsteps fading away from him.
He rubbed his palm across his face and got up to follow her. He folded the blanket back up neatly and placed it back where he found it, trying to buy as much time as he could. He slowly made his way up the stairs dreading how tonight was going to go. He wasn't sure if he was going to get more sleep being next to Hermione or if it was going to be even worse. He knew she would yell at him if he even breathed funny. He reached the door marked their bedroom at the end of the hallway and sighed before opening it. Revealing a large bedroom that was handsomely decorated.
Hermione was already in the large poster bed in the center of the room. Her wild hair was splayed across the silver pillows and the moonlight danced across her face. She looked like an angel. When did that happen, when did she become a women? Draco remembered the bucktooth girl that he first spotted on the Hogwarts train, her wild hair in a constant mess. This women was nothing like the girl he remembered. Draco eyed her warily as he made his way to his side of the bed.
She pointed to a door, "that is your wardrobe if you wanted to change." He nodded and switched direction of his course. He made his way to the wardrobe and entered inside. He quickly found sleep clothes and proceeded to undress. He put on sleep pants but didn't bother to put on another shirt. He was already wearing more clothes then he preferred to sleep in, Granger would just have to deal with it. Hopefully her Gryffindor sensibilities would be able to survive seeing him shirtless. He rolled his eyes at the thought and made his way out of the wardrobe.
He made his way over to his side of the bed and rolled down the covers. He got in and turned on his side facing away from her. Hermione didn't even look at him when he exited the closet. She was turned towards a window with her back to him. Pretending he didn't exist. He pulled the blanket up over his chest and snuggled into the pillows. Sleep quickly claimed him.
He woke with a start. Hermione was thrashing beside him, her limbs flailing everywhere. He looked over at her and could see she was sweating, perspiration drenching her neck and hair. Her face was scrunched up in a pained expression. He tried to push her over onto her side of the large bed, but she attacked him instead. Pounding on his chest, she shouted at him in her sleep. "Stop, Please!" His heart was pounding, he didn't know what to do. She was having a night terror, but he didn't know how to handle it. Should he wake her up? He didn't know how she would take to him knowing about her sleep terrors. He didn't think Hermione would like him seeing her so vulnerable.
"Stop! I didn't take anything, Please, I didn't take anything!" She cried frantically.
His heart stopped cold recognizing these words. She was having a nightmare of being tortured. Being tortured by his aunt, in his house. He often had the same nightmare, watching her wither in pain on the floor, screaming out for help, but not being able to do anything, while his aunt accused her of stealing and carved into her arm, torturing her all the while.
He often had nightmares of the bad things that he had to do under the Dark Lord's command, but two nightmares visited him the most. Dumbledore being killed and Hermione being tortured. Her leg flung at him again and landed a kick in his knee. The pain brought him back to the present. He couldn't help her then but he would know. He threw his arms around her and gathered her against his chest, ignoring her flailing limbs. She clutched his arm now and was digging her nails into his flesh. He felt her tears against his chest. Her sniffles filling the room. He rubbed his hand along her back while making soothing noises. He told her it was okay and no one would hurt her again and he meant every word. She was his wife now and with that came certain privileges. He would not let anything happen to her again. He pulled her closer as her sobs began to die down. He waited until she was sleeping peacefully before closing his eyes. His arms still held her and he could feel her nuzzle closer to his neck. He put his chin on top of her head and let her steady breathing slowly lull him back to sleep.