Authors Note: This chapter was written a while ago but my beta has been busy so was unable to return it to me for a while. However I hope it comes up to expectation.
Chapter Four
The well-lit bedroom was silent as its occupants stared around them in horror, each grappling with and trying to make sense of the events of the last few minutes. They all gazed down at the figure of the young woman lying in a crumpled, unmoving heap on the floor, their minds unable to fully process what had happened.
"Aunt Hermione?" The voice of the small boy standing in the doorway seemed to shatter the spell that had fallen over the room, and the adults all jumped as though electrocuted.
Draco blinked, and for the first time became aware of the other people in the room. His eyes moved to Hannah Abbot, who returned his look, a puzzled expression on her face.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" she asked, taking a tentative step forward but he raised his wand, moving to stand between her and Hermione, blocking the latter from view.
"One more step, Abbot, and I won't be responsible for the consequences," he said in a low voice, and her eyes widened with apprehension.
"Look, can someone please tell me what's going on?" The ginger-haired man in the doorway was staring between them in confusion. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"
The blonde woman kneeling beside Hermione turned and scowled at him. "They're wizards." She turned back to Draco and Hannah. "I presume one of you is here to modify memories?"
Hannah nodded. "Yes, there's been a burst of accidental magic so- Malfoy, what are you doing? "
Draco had bent down and was lifting Hermione into his arms. Slowly, he straightened, Hermione's limp form cradled against him.
"What does it look like, Abbot?" he drawled, transferring Hermione's weight to his shoulder while taking care not to touch her left arm, which hung uselessly at her side.
"Malfoy, you can't move her like this. The ministry-"
"I don't give a damn as to what the ministry thinks, and if you've got any common sense, you won't get in my way." He glared at her over Hermione's head, knowing that at that moment, he was capable of murder if stopped.
Hannah drew back, but the blonde woman leapt to her feet. "Let me guess, you're her husband, is that right?"
Draco looked down at her with impatience. He wanted to get away from here. and fast, and their questions were exacerbating his already taut nerves.
"Yes, now if you'll-"
"And where are you taking her?" she asked, stepping forward and putting a hand on Hermione's uninjured shoulder, a determined expression on her face.
He gritted his teeth, and in a controlled voice, replied, "That is no concern of yours."
She glowered at him, eyes narrowing into slits. "I'm her closest friend, of course I'm concerned."
He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to hex the woman into next year. "Look, she'll be in no danger if that's what you're worried about."
"Actually, that's exactly what I'm worried about. How smart of you to notice. She needs medical attention, and fast, so she can't go anywhere."
"She'll get medical attention as soon as I can get her away from here," he shot back.
"Where are you taking her, St Mungo's?" Hannah asked, moving tentatively forward.
His lip curled. "No, I'll get the family healer in to look at her."
"Well, there are witnesses who have seen you take her. If I don't hear from her in a few days or so, then I'll get this ministry of yours involved." The blonde woman turned to Hannah as she spoke, who nodded in agreement.
"Have no fear, the ministry will be notified of this," she said, shooting him a filthy look.
Draco had had more than enough. Tightening his hold on Hermione, he closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later, he had Disapparated to appear in the dimly lit hall of Malfoy Manor with a small pop.
"Mother, Father, where are you?" he called, moving towards the informal drawing room with his burden.
A house-elf appeared at his side and held the double doors open for him. He entered the warm room and deposited Hermione on one of the large sofas and straightened, massaging his arm, which had started to go numb supporting her weight.
The doors were pushed open behind him and Lucius Malfoy entered the room looking confused. "Draco, this is an unexpected surprise, what…Merlin's beard!" His gaze had fallen on Hermione's prone form, and he stared at her as though seeing a ghost.
"I need Anton, can you call him?" Draco glanced at Lucius over his shoulder as he settled Hermione on the sofa
"But…she…I don't understand…" The older man gestured towards the unconscious brunette as he spoke.
"I'll explain everything, but first I need Anton. She's been hurt and he needs to see her."
The door was pushed open and Narcissa Malfoy came in. Her eyes swept the room, coming to rest on Hermione's waxy face, and she, too, gawped in surprise. Then, pulling herself together, she said, "I'll call Anton," and crossed to the fireplace. "Then you can tell us what happened this evening."
Five minutes later, the aged German Healer who had attended the Malfoy family for as long as Draco could remember, was entering the room wearing a curious expression.
He bent over Hermione, wand out as he examined her shoulder. "It's dislocated and the arm is broken," he informed the Malfoys, who stood watching him. "It can easily be fixed."
"Well, get on with it then," Draco snapped impatiently.
A few moments later, Anton straightened, his job done. "There, it is as good as new now. She is unconscious. I suggest giving her a sleeping draft so her body can get over the shock. As she is, she could come 'round at any moment."
"Good idea," Narcissa agreed. "No doubt her body has suffered, so it's best to ensure she sleeps to get over it as soon as possible." What she didn't add was that the respite would give them time to decide what to do next.
The healer took a small vial from his bag and poured two drops of the contents onto Hermione's tongue. "That will ensure she sleeps for the next twelve hours or so."
"Could you give her a general check up to ensure that all else is well?" Draco asked. He wasn't taking any chances now, and he might as well get the man to give Hermione a once-over while he was there.
Anton nodded, and for the next few minutes, traced his wand over Hermione's body, taking readings and scribbling the findings on a notepad. Finally, he turned back to the group watching him. "She's fine and healthy, although she is a little thin for my liking. I think a young woman in her prime should have a little more fat on her, especially if she means to bear children." His words were casual, but their inference was not lost on the Malfoys.
"That can be easily fixed, I'm sure." Draco said, moving forward. "Thank you for coming out so late."
"It was nothing." The healer began to put away his things, and Narcissa showed him out, leaving the two men alone. She soon returned however, and waited as Draco tucked a blanket around Hermione before speaking.
"So, what happened?" she asked, sitting down and gesturing for Draco and Lucius to do the same.
Draco seated himself beside Hermione, drawing her head onto his lap. He took a deep breath and told them what had transpired in a few short sentences as they listened in wide-eyed amazement.
"I always thought those protection spells would be the thing by which you'd find her; it was lucky for us that she was hurt," Narcissa said thoughtfully.
"Yes, I suppose so. From the look of it, she was struck by a shelf; one of the Muggles must have performed accidental magic," Draco replied, leaning back and surveying his parents' faces in the light of the candles around the room, before switching his gaze back to the limp figure of his wife. He traced her cheekbone with his fingers, a feeling of possession going through him.
"Hmm, no doubt Abbot will have told the ministry by now, and once they find out, it'll be a matter of time until her old friends hear about it," Lucius mused. "We need to move her, or else they'll be here before you know it."
"Where though?" Narcissa asked, anxiously glancing round. "They know about our properties in Europe. I suppose we could ask the Warringtons if they'll lend us their house in Pretoria; South Africa is nice at this time of year."
"I don't think running away is the answer. No, we'll notify the Prophet that we've found the girl and ask for people to respect the fact that you and she have been apart for six years, Draco, and leave you alone. You know, play on their sympathies. Potter and co wouldn't dare search for her openly once the public think that you should be left alone, and there are enough wards about the French villa to put them off if they try. Anyway, what's to say that she'll want to see them again? We weren't the only ones she was running away from, remember. I say play on this advantage, Draco, and make the most of it." Lucius smiled as he finished speaking, his eyes narrowing in a calculating fashion.
Draco nodded. "Yes, Merlin knows I'll need every advantage I can get, however small." He didn't take his eyes from Hermione's face as he spoke, tightening his hold on her. Opposite him, Lucius and Narcissa exchanged uneasy glances.
"Look, son, you have to be careful," Lucius said now. "Hermione will probably become hysterical when she wakes up and realises where she is. You'll have to be patient with her; don't try and rush things or she'll definitely try and go back to those friends of hers, which is the last thing you want."
Draco looked up from Hermione's face and frowned. "What?" The switch in the conversation had taken him by surprise, and he wondered what they were talking about.
"Well, you'll have to take things slowly with her," Narcissa continued. "It's important that you build up a relationship of trust with her, and if that means taking things more slowly than you'd like, then so be it. I know that having been apart from her for six years, your first inclination will be to consummate the marriage, but if you take her by force, she'll never forgive you for it and probably won't let you come anywhere near her again."
Draco shrugged. Right now he was in no mood to listen to their advice; all he wanted to do was take Hermione somewhere far away where no one else could find them, and perform a binding charm or fifty on her so that she could never leave him again, never! . He concentrated instead on more practical matters. "The Villa, is it habitable?"
"Yes, I didn't have it closed since our last visit. The elves will get everything ready for you I'm sure," Narcissa answered with a shrug. "The warm weather and surroundings should help Hermione to come to her senses."
"You'd better go," Lucius interjected, getting up. "I'll let the Prophet know and take care of things from this end. 'Cissa, where's the portkey for the Villa?"
"I'll get it." Narcissa left the room in a whirl of robes.
"But the business," Draco protested, lifting his head, remembering for the first time that he was the head of a large multi-national organization, and that his father's health would prevent him from taking over, even on a temporary basis.
"Never mind the business; we'll cope. Right now, your first priority is Hermione. You can worry about the business when you and she are on better terms, and your marriage is stable," Lucius said bracingly. "If need be, your mother can help me, or failing that, I'll get paid help. Even the best advisers can be bought if the price is right."
Draco nodded; this was certainly true of most of those he knew. Getting up, he wrapped the blanket more securely around Hermione. "And her job and so on? I don't know what she does for a living, but they'll start asking questions if she doesn't turn up for work on Monday morning and that's all we need."
"The Fidelius will have lifted, so it won't be difficult to find that out. I'll pay them to shut them up. Best not to alienate her just quite yet from her Muggle life." Lucius ran a hand through his hair. "Don't worry, son, it'll all be okay You just focus on Hermione and remember what your mother and I told you. Now, we'll contact you if we need to, but for peace's sake, your mother and I had better stay out of the picture until madam over there has learned to accept things." He nodded towards Hermione as he spoke. "I don't envy you; in the coming few days, she'll do everything she can to get away from you."
"Do you think the consummation charm will activate?" Draco asked. He had often wondered whether the charm, which had previously been denied the chance to work, would be set off by the proximity of his and Hermione's presence when they finally met again, thus forcing them to consummate the marriage. He sincerely hoped it would; it would make life a lot easier if it did.
Lucius wrinkled his forehead in thought. "I don't know. Logic says yes, but when has magic ever followed the path of logic? There's been nothing written on the subject in any of the materials I've researched, but then no couple who has undergone the traditional ceremony have been parted for as long as you have. Maybe there'll be some form of attraction, but given the time delay in setting the charm in motion, it won't be so potent."
The door opened and Narcissa entered holding a small box in her hand covered in shells. "Here you are; it'll transport you to the hall of the villa."
"Thanks, Mother." Draco took the box from her and wrapped Hermione's slender fingers around it, taking hold of the other end himself, while with the other arm, he clasped her to him. "Well, I'll hopefully see you soon, all being well." He smiled at his parents, who both nodded. Then, Narcissa leaned forward, and tapped the box twice with her wand and the portkey was activated, speeding them out of England and to the south of France.
XoXoXoXo
The morning was cloudless, and the sun shone down from an azure sky onto the small villa situated on the French Riviera bordering the Mediterranean Sea. A gentle breeze ruffled the surface of the blue-tinted swimming pool at one side of the extensive lawns, causing small ripples to spread over the glassy surface. Birdsong drifted in through the open French windows of the room in which Draco sat, adding to the air of peace that cloaked the small villa.
From his position at the side of the bed, he glanced at the clock and smiled grimly. Any time now, Hermione would come around, and then the fireworks would start. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to hers, savouring the feel of her warm lips against his own. Merlin only knew when he could do so again, so he was making the most of the opportunity while he had it. He had spent the better part of the night here with her, kissing her and familiarising himself with the contours of her body, those he could reach anyway, but it was by no means enough to appease the hunger raging within him.
He traced her features with his lips, still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was really here with him. Less than a day ago, he had been alone, not knowing where she was or with whom. Now thanks to a tantrum thrown by a three-year-old, they were together. He supposed he should thank the brat for her outburst of temper, but all he wanted to do was make Hermione his.
He bent his head, kissing and nibbling at the skin of her throat and neck, resisting the urge to tear apart her flimsy dressing gown to reveal more of her body. So far, he had been unable to unwrap the damned thing from around her, as the pieces of fabric seemed to have welded together, or even to undo the tie holding it in place.
He supposed that her innate magic was acting as a defence mechanism by preventing the thing from opening, although he really couldn't see why. He was her husband after all, and had a right to see her body. To add to this, it had wrapped itself tightly about her legs, preventing him from sliding his hand beneath it. He could have cut the thing away from her, but a small part of him rebelled at the idea, however tempting it may be. He was no barbarian!
Reluctantly, he straightened, knowing that if she awoke and found him bending over her in this way, she would yell to high heaven, and that really wouldn't help matters. Picking up his wand, he performed a quick cleaning charm, and the marks he had made on her throat and neck over the past few hours disappeared, leaving the skin unblemished. He seated himself at the foot of the bed and waited, the ticking of the clock loud in the room as it counted away the seconds.
A minute passed in which Hermione lay, inert and deeply asleep, her breathing quiet and regular. Then as the hands of the clock moved to 11:13, she stirred and opened heavy-lidded eyes. Draco tensed as her gaze moved around the unfamiliar room, confusion evident on her face. Merlin, she was as desirable as ever, his craving for her increasing tenfold as he watched her bewildered expression. She blinked and raised herself on one elbow so she could get a better look at her surroundings. Then, as was inevitable, her eyes landed on him and widened in horror. Swiftly, she shut them as though to deny their evidence and opened them again, clearly hoping that he had been a figment of her imagination.
Irked by this, Draco said, "I won't go away if you close your eyes, you know."
Her eyes flew open again, and now an expression of panic was taking the place of her earlier confusion. She sat up and stared at him, then gave her leg a good pinch and winced at the pain, an act he knew was the Muggle way of determining whether one was awake or not.
"No," she said faintly. " No, this can't be. I don't understand how… what… why this… Oh, I'm going mad!"
Draco smiled to himself; some things did not change, and Hermione's ability to over-dramatise situations was one of them. "I assure you that you're as sane as I am, but before we go into that, you need to eat something. We'll have breakfast together."
With a click of his fingers, a house-elf appeared, bearing a large breakfast tray, which it set across Hermione's lap before vanishing with a crack.
She stared at the tray, wearing a bemused expression. "No, thanks, I'm okay." She hunched herself away from the tray as though to minimise all contact with it.
Curbing his impatience, he leaned forward and poured her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and handed it to her. "Drink that, and then we'll talk."
She took the cool glass with trembling fingers but did not drink, choosing instead to stare into its murky depths.
"Hermione, it isn't poisoned you know, drink it." He helped himself to a croissant as he spoke, his own appetite only now coming to life, having been dormant for the past thirteen hours or so.
Carefully, she replaced the glass on the tray and shook her head. "I'm not thirsty, thanks. Now what am-"
"You've been asleep for over twelve hours, of course you're thirsty. Drink it, come on. Think about it, why would I want to poison you? We're alone here together, so what reason would I have to harm you?"
She scowled and looked once more around the room, shaking her head. He could tell that she still clung to the belief that she was dreaming, so much the better. Now maybe she would eat in the certainty that it was all a figment of her own imagination. Then to his relief, after a moment's pause she picked up the glass again and downed the contents in one go.
He waited until she had refilled her glass, and then asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"
She frowned in thought as she put down her glass and reached for a piece of toast, still looking dazed and only half awake. "Sophie was overtired and upset. We were trying to calm her down, and Brian came in and started teasing her. She became even more distressed… and… well that's it," she said in a flat voice.
He finished the last of his croissant and poured himself a cup of coffee before speaking. "From what I've been told, the child let loose some accidental magic, causing a shelf of toys to be thrown at her brother. Unfortunately, you were in the way and it hit you, dislocating your shoulder and breaking your upper arm," he told her dryly.
She shuddered; clearly she remembered the pain of the shelf hitting her. "And then what happened?" she asked in a nervous voice unlike her.
"Well, it activated the protection spells which were part of our marriage ceremony, and before I knew what was happening, I was transported to your side. It was a shock, I can tell you."
"You what? But the Fidelius…"
"It's null and void now; the protection spells overrode it," he told her in a gentle voice, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
"Oh." She was silent for a moment, then her head came up and she glared at him. "What happened then, and where are we now?"
"I was transported to your side and took you back to Malfoy Manor with me. We called in a healer who fixed your arm and shoulder, and then you and I came here." He smiled, taking another croissant and biting into it.
"Here? Where's here?" she asked, eyes travelling once more around the sunlit room. Then pushing the tray off her lap on to the bed, she swung her legs to the floor and stood up. The movement seemed to bring her out of her dazed state, and she shivered even though the room was warm.
He hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "For obvious reasons, I'm not going to tell you that just yet. Be assured that you're in no danger. Careful," he warned, watching her. "You should take things easy for a while."
She ignored him and walked on unsteady legs to the French windows opening on to a wrought iron balcony, looking out onto the terrace below. She looked down at her crumpled dressing gown, then out at the vista of green lawns laid out beneath her. "This isn't a dream, is it?" she asked in a quiet voice, her fingers gripping the edge of the rosewood dressing table until her knuckles turned white.
"No, far from it." Getting up, he moved so he could see her face, which was devoid of expression as she looked down at her hands. "Hermione, it's not that bad, honestly. I know that we didn't exactly part on the best of terms, but we had to meet some day; you couldn't go on running for ever. We'll stay here for a while to give ourselves time to get used to the situation and decide how to go on from here," he said in a placating tone.
Finally, she raised agonised eyes to meet his. "You don't understand, how can you? It isn't as simple as staying here and deciding what to do next. I've built up a life for myself over the past six years, and can't just get up and leave; life doesn't work like that. Anyway, it isn't as straightforward as simply rejoining the wizarding world, there's more to it than that."
Draco took a deep breath, his own temper which he had held firmly in check, starting to rise. "Then how does it work? You left the wizarding world six years ago without a backward glance, and the rest of us had to pick up the pieces. You didn't consider then how your leaving would affect either me or your old friends."
"That was different," she retorted angrily, turning to face him. "I was forced to run away from the wizarding world. I had no other choice in the matter if I wanted to retain my own sanity. This can't be likened to that time! I have a life in the Muggle world that I have no intention of giving up." The sleep had left her now, leaving her clear-headed.
He bit back the words that had sprung to his lips, knowing that he had to tread with caution if he wanted to make any headway with her. "Look, I'm not asking you to give up your life in the Muggle world. All I'm saying is that you can't pretend that our marriage doesn't exist. There are forces at work that neither of us can influence, so why fight them?"
She made a disbelieving sound in her throat. "I could give you a long list of reasons but won't bother. Instead, I want to go home."
"What, and have the whole of the wizarding world descend on you? They'll all know where you live now. The Fidelius is no longer active, so all those locator spells that have been cast since you left will have come to life. Believe me, your home will be swarming with people, mostly the press and your old friends I suspect," he flung back, not entirely sure if this was true but hoping she'd believe him.
As he'd hoped, she paled at this revelation. "But…but, it can't…"
It took all the resolution he possessed not to scoop her up and take her to bed then and there. Instead, he gave a casual shrug. "You'll be safe here. No one knows where we are, and even if they do find out, the wards around this place will prevent them from entering. I've taken the liberty of ordering some clothes for you from a nice boutique near here; they arrived an hour ago so you can change."
"You seem to have thought of everything," she responded sourly. "But that doesn't change anything."
The urge to shake some sense into her was overpowering so he turned away and took a few steadying breaths. His parents had told him to keep calm when talking to her, but right then, that was proving to be extremely difficult. "Hermione, you know as well as I do that it changes everything, but before we go into that, I'll leave you to get showered and dressed. You'll understand if I leave one of the elves here with you." He wasn't taking any chances, and leaving her alone wasn't an option. Even though the villa was warded more heavily than Malfoy Manor, it having been in the family for a lot longer, he could not have her left alone.
"I'm not likely to do anything, now am I?" she said irritably, but at the same time, he saw a thoughtful expression cross her face. It was fleeting, and if he had not been watching so closely, he would have missed it. Immediately, his senses were on red alert, but he kept his expression neutral.
"I wouldn't know. Now, I'll call Teel, who'll stay with you while you're changing."
He proceeded to call the elf, and in rapid French, instructed the creature to keep Hermione in sight at all times while she was showering and changing. He would also keep an eye on her by use of a concealed one-way mirror in the ceiling. The elf nodded, and satisfied that his instructions would be carried out, Draco left the room.
Entering the sitting room further down the hall, he crossed to the fireplace, and taking a fistful of Floo powder, scattered it into the flames. Then, sticking his head in to the fire, he called, "Malfoy Manor!"
Soon, his head had stopped spinning, and he blinked as his mother's sitting room came into focus.
"Draco, is everything okay?" Narcissa asked, crouching in front of the fire to speak to him.
"Oh yes, as well as can be expected. Hermione's in the shower with Teel watching her, so I thought I'd find out how things were going from your end."
"Wise move. Teel is a very gifted elf; he won't let her do anything she ought not to be doing. I presume you've put a few tracking charms of your own on her?"
"Of course, what do you take me for? I've modified it slightly so that it can't be detected by meddling fools like her Secret-Keeper." Even now the word brought a horrid taste into his mouth, and he wondered if his parents had managed to find out who had been helping her all these years.
Narcissa smiled with approval. "Good idea, you were always good with charms. As for the Secret-Keeper, we've had no luck in that quarter; whoever it is, is certainly skilful."
He grimaced. He would find the Secret-Keeper and make the toerag pay for the anguish he had suffered these past years. "Well, I didn't think it would be easy to track him or her down. How about everything else?"
"Well, your father notified the Prophet and it's headline news. Naturally, those friends of Hermione's came storming round here, but the Minister of Magic himself has ordered them to leave you and Hermione be."
Draco laughed. "I bet they didn't like that!"
Narcissa returned his smile with a broad one of her own. "No, but he wouldn't budge. He said that you two deserved some privacy after all this time apart and they should wait for her to contact them. You should have heard the language from that Weasley boy; some things don't change no matter how much money one has."
She gave a delicate shudder.
"And the Muggles?" Draco asked with a slight frown. The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was alienate Hermione from her Muggle neighbours and work colleagues.
"Well, your father has requested a leave of absence for Hermione from that school of hers; the head teacher was more than happy to oblige." Her lip curled, and Draco knew that the head teacher's compliance must have been bought like so much else in life.
"Money can certainly talk when the need arises," he commented dryly.
"Oh, I'm so excited you've found her after six years, Draco. There were times when I doubted that you ever would, and where would we have been if you hadn't? But now, finally you can start your life." She beamed at him, eyes twinkling.
He sighed audibly. "Oh, Mother, I know how your mind is working. Grandchildren are a long way off yet. Hermione won't let me within five feet of her at present, let alone close enough to start work on a baby. Anyway, we're far too young for such responsibilities." The mere thought of children was making him shudder; he and Hermione were far too young for such an undertaking! Anyway, he wanted her for himself for a while before any brats came along and he had to share her.
"Now, Draco! That kind of attitude isn't becoming to a Malfoy! I might remind you that you are both in your mid-twenties and should start thinking seriously of such things. Why, when your father and I were your age, we were already parents. Anyway, there is our bloodline to consider. You know as well as I do how important it is to carry on the line with nice healthy children; it's essential. All my friends' children have children, or are in the process of doing so. You can't be left behind!"
He bit back a grin at the indignant expression on his mother's face. He supposed that she had a point, but right then his main priority was to build up some kind of rapport between himself and Hermione. "All in good time, Mother," he soothed. "Let's walk before we run, shall we?"
She nodded, all be it reluctantly. "Draco, please be careful. Hermione will probably be in a bit of a state by now, and you can't afford to aggravate the situation," she warned, looking worried again.
"Actually, she's not too bad. I had expected tantrums and all sorts, but so far, have been pleasantly surprised. I think not having a wand is making her wary," he responded thoughtfully. "She's not happy about being here, but hasn't made trouble yet. I pointed out that if she went back to Somerset, the press and her friends would find her, something she didn't like."
"I wonder why? There's something there that doesn't add up, but I can't for the life of me work out what. Why would she want to avoid her old friends? Us I can understand, but them…" she lapsed into thought.
"I don't know, but by Merlin I'd like to know. Maybe I'll be able to get it out of her soon. I'd better go; she's finished showering, and I don't want her left to her own devices longer than needs be."
"Take care and good luck. We'll let you know more when we hear." Narcissa smiled and waved.
Draco withdrew his head from the fire, and once the room had stopped revolving, looked into the small mirror he held. It showed Hermione sitting on the dressing table stall and running a comb through her curly hair. He had left her alone too long, and so getting to his feet, he went to join her.
XoXoXoXo
The recliner was comfortable beneath him. Draco had always enjoyed lying on it whenever he and his parents visited the Villa, which was not often enough in his opinion. He lay back against the cool leather, savouring the peace and tranquility of the atmosphere and smiled to himself. This was definitely the way to live. His glance moved lazily over the clear water of the pool, which looked blue due to the reflection of the French sun. Maybe he would take a dip soon.
His eyes then moved to Hermione also lying on a recliner, but whereas he was relaxed, she was as taut as a bowstring as she flicked through the pages of a magazine. He doubted that she was taking in a word of the print before her and shrugged. It was time she spoke to him, rather than stare at the glossy print. He considered he had been generous in allowing her ten minutes of quiet to read it.
"If you keep up that posture, you'll become very stiff," he drawled, breaking the silence. "It's not healthy being so rigid; it's bad for the spine, you should follow my example and relax!" He wriggled further down the recliner to emphasise his point.
As he had hoped, his remark earned a snort of derision from her, and she glared at him over the top of her magazine. "I think not!"
"They're very comfortable you know," he continued, nodding at her recliner. "We had them imported from Italy a few years ago. The French just can't match up to Italians where furniture is concerned." He turned onto his front, admiring his reflection in the surface of the pool.
She ignored this and went back to reading the magazine, and he sighed loudly. "You know, it's rude to ignore your conversational partner. I'm sure your parents, being the proper citizens they are, told you that. Don't let them down by sulking in this way. It's very unbecoming."
"And what do you know of my parents?" came the sharp response.
He grinned to himself. No one could battle with words like Hermione. She had spent the past few hours maintaining an icy silence, speaking only when it was necessary, and he had at first humoured her. Now, however, he was bored and wanted some interaction. He hadn't spent the past six years looking for her so they could sit in silence like a cranky old couple! He intended to make the most of the time he had alone with her, for he had a feeling that once they returned to Britain, she would lead him in a merry dance.
He stretched and laid back. "Well, where to begin! Your mother, Lynn, enjoys her work, is an excellent cook, loves gardening, and has recently taken up Point-to-Point needlework. As for Peter, he likes to tinker with engines in his spare time, which annoys Lynn to no end as he gets oil all over his clothes. He enjoys DIY, and recently built a bookcase which unfortunately collapsed when Lynn tried to put a few books on it." He allowed himself a smirk at this point.
She was staring at him with suspicion, her magazine forgotten. "But how do you know all that? You haven't been having them watched, have you? I wouldn't put it past you."
"In case it's escaped your notice, people do grow up. I know all that simply because I've taken the time and effort to get to know your family. I'll admit that at first, my reasons were self-serving, but as time's gone on, I've developed a liking and respect for them," he retorted, scowling. Why couldn't she put the past behind her and concentrate on the present as he was doing?
"You'll excuse me if I have difficulty in believing that. You've kidnapped me and refuse to let me go, what do you call that, reasonable?"
"I call it necessary," he replied vehemently. "You're my wife, and no amount of denying will change that fact. I had to get you away for the sake of our marriage, which has been neglected these past six years."
She bit her lip and looked away, her shoulders slumping. "But why, Malfoy? What's the point of all this? I mean, neither of us wanted this in the first place. You were as pressured into it as I was, so why don't you channel your energy in helping me find a way out of it rather than put up with the dictates of others in this way? It doesn't make sense. The war's over now, and I refuse to believe that your parents are happy with a Muggleborn for a daughter-in-law."
He blinked at the sudden change in the conversation, but rallied quickly. Getting up, he went to sit beside her, their bare arms brushing. He had kept his distance these past few hours, but his need to be near her, to touch her and assure himself of her presence, could not be denied for any longer. He was glad that she had asked these questions, but was unsure of what to tell her. Then deciding to tell her the truth, or part of it, he turned to her.
"Hermione, you know as well as I do that the ceremony we underwent was not your average wedding ceremony. It was powerfully magical, and the way my family and I see it, such ceremonies are binding for life. If we had been incompatible, it would never have taken place. I can assure you, there's been many a marriage which hasn't taken place, much to the displeasure of the families concerned, because the couple were not compatible. With us, it did go ahead, and there's no way to get out of it, so we have to make the best of it." He threaded his fingers through her hair, enjoying the feel of the silky strands that glided across his hand. She stiffened, but didn't pull away.
"I know all that, but it still doesn't change the fact that we're stuck with one another, and for what? That's what I want to know."
Deciding not to answer her question directly, he picked his words with care as he spoke. "It was an order from…him. That's why it was so rushed and we both had to be fed that awful potion to get us to comply at such short notice."
"Who, Voldemort?" she asked with a frown, ignoring his wince at the name. "What had he to do with it? I thought that he was all for the purity of the wizarding race; he hated Muggleborns."
"Yes, but even he recognised that without marrying Muggleborns, we would have died out. Kurbs-blood was on the increase and it was no longer logical to marry purebloods if you wanted to have children who didn't die at birth," he explained. "Now it's a taboo to marry purebloods; no one does it any more. There was talk of the Ministry putting a ban on it, but there was no need; survival means more to wizards than pure bloodlines."
She was silent, digesting his words. "I can't believe it, it seems incredible. Purebloods refusing to marry their own?" She shook her head in bewilderment.
He laughed. "Yep, it's become a bit of a trend these days to marry Muggleborns."
"Is that why your parents were okay with the marriage?" she asked, reverting back to her earlier question, eyes wide as she looked at him, her earlier animosity forgotten for the moment.
"Yes, plus the Dark Lord wanted it, and in those days, Father did everything the Dark Lord said." He hoped the bitterness in his voice was not too evident.
"In those days?" she queried with interest.
He paused, and then decided to tell her. She had to know at some time or another, and it might help to soften her attitude towards them. "Father changed sides soon after your disappearance. He felt responsible for it, you see, and began to question the Dark Lord's ideas and ways of thinking. My state of mind at the time was fuel to the fire if you like, and next thing we know, he's gone to Dumbledore and offered his assistance. Anyway, by that time, he, the Dark Lord that is, was so snake-like that he was becoming erratic and irrational. There were rumours that he was ill and losing his sanity. Your disappearance was the beginning of the end."
"How so?" she asked, perplexed, not objecting when he picked up a glass of iced lemonade from the table beside him and put it to her lips. She drank the cool liquid automatically, and he replaced the glass.
"There was anger on all sides; from Father because you had disappeared thanks to orders given by the Dark Lord that we were to be married in such haste, and from your old friends and Dumbledore who were all looking for you. It speeded up the war considerably."
"Then what?" she asked in a breathless voice. He smiled to himself; she was not as indifferent to the wizarding world as she would have him believe.
He moved closer and slid an arm around her, drawing her against him. "Well," he started, ignoring her attempts to pull away, "Father joined Dumbledore and told him all he knew, which naturally was a lot. The Order of the Phoenix raided all the dementor and giant camps that the Dark Lord had set up, and in this way diminished his army. The final battle as they call it, took place very near Stonehenge. It was rumoured that the Dark Lord had tried to use the magic of the stones for his own purposes, but it went wrong and he was weakened even more. Of course it was Potter who finished him off, disarmed him, and used both wands to cast the killing curse."
There was a silence as she stared into the depths of the pool. "The wizarding world must have been pleased," she commented thoughtfully.
"Yes, they were, although Father overheard one of the Order saying that a Lestintia would have finished him off without the need of two wands, but that he supposed that Potter had managed adequately, even though he botched it first time and had to cast the curse twice."
"What?" she turned to stare at him, eyes wide.
He laughed. "I know, incredible isn't it? Bet Potty wasn't happy about that. The first time, the curse didn't quite work, so he had to recast, and fast. A Lestintia would have done it first time, and with only the one wand, but the last one was Grindelwald himself, so that option was out of the question."
"Yes, I suppose so," she muttered, and shivered, wrapping her arms about herself in a protective manner.
He took the opportunity to cuddle her closer and smiled down at her. No doubt the thought of the battle was making her shudder; he could well understand it.
"And you?" she asked in a small voice. "What did you do while all this was going on?"
"Nothing. I didn't want anything to do with either side." He raised his left arm and showed her the unblemished skin of his forearm. He didn't want there to be any misunderstandings between them. "Actually, I wasn't well for a long time after the ceremony, just lethargic and dispirited. I was diagnosed with depression, which didn't lift until well after a year later.
He saw her eyes widen at this news, and knew without asking that he hadn't been the only one for whom life had become a chore.
"So, how long did it last for you?" he asked casually, watching her intently.
She was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Oh, for a good eighteen months or so. I was on anti-depressants to combat it, but they didn't really help. In the end, it sorted itself out." Then, changing the subject, she asked, "So what happened after the war?"
"There was a large scale regenerating programme, and that's when the taboo about marriage between purebloods started. Now it's practically unheard of. There was also a concerted move to bring our world closer to that of Muggles, and computers and telephones were introduced at the Ministry. Others soon took it up when they saw how convenient the appliances were." He helped himself to a glass of lemonade and gulped it down greedily. All this talking was making him thirsty.
"It seems to have changed so much," Hermione said quietly. "Is Hogwarts still open?"
"Of course, McGonagall's headmistress now, and Muggle studies is a compulsory subject. Hogwarts has one of the most up-to-date computer labs I know of." He grinned. "I got the idea for the structure of our own intranet by using them as a blueprint. It's turned out very well, even if I do say so myself. Of course, the big difference between our appliances and Muggle ones is that ours run on magic rather than electricity."
Pulling away from him, she got up and moved to the pool's edge, her expression thoughtful. He watched her in silence, knowing that she was trying to get to grips with all the information he had given her.
Finally she turned back to him, her mouth set in a determined line. "Look, this doesn't change anything you know. We've both moved on and made lives for ourselves. Neither of us can be expected to give them up just so that we can fulfill the requirements of a marriage that neither of us wanted. I for one am happy with my life; I enjoy my job and have made good friends. I'm sure that you, too, are the same, and don't want to give it all up."
He regarded her for a moment, and wondered once again why she was so determined to stay away from the wizarding world. It was clear that she didn't want to rejoin it, and he knew that this reluctance was only in part due to him. If only he could find out what it was, it would make his task a lot easier. All he knew for certain was that it had something to do with her old friends. This however was not the moment to ask, so he changed tack.
"Hermione, I'm not asking you to 'give it all up' as you put it. All I'm saying is that you can't ignore the world to which you rightly belong. We're here to stay, and ignoring us won't make us go away. I won't ask what happened between you and your old friends, but if you wish to avoid them, it's your decision. What, however, you can't get away from, is us. We're married and have to learn to live with it, and the first step to doing that is talking to each other, agreed?"
She didn't respond for a moment and he thought that he might have pushed things too far. Then to his relief, she gave a reluctant nod.
"Excellent," he beamed, watching as she unzipped her dress to reveal a one-piece bathing costume. Dropping it at her feet, she dived cleanly into the cool water, emerging moments later in the middle of the pool and swimming rapidly to the other side. Clearly she'd had enough of talking for the moment. He watched her do a few laps of the pool, and for the first time since he'd seen her again, felt the knot of tension within him loosen. She had agreed to speak to him; that was at least a start. The rest would come later; he was determined on that point. If she kept away from Potter and co, all the better for him.
Smiling to himself, he, too, stripped down to his bathing trunks and dived into the pool to join her. He would make the most of the present, and worry about the future when he had to. For the time being, he had found her and that was enough!
