Chapter 16
A/N: Hello readers! So... I suck. I'm not even sure what happened with updating this story. Somehow I fell into a spiral of procrastination and avoidance that clearly got out of hand. I've had a few reviews and PMs recently that got me to open the Divine Circus file again.
For those of you who read this before I changed it, I lied. Well, not really. I just took a few minutes to work out my filing system again. Anyway, this chapter IS betaed. Thanks to irianaceleste for betaing.
As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate you continuing support.
~Frosty
Madam Tari looked towards the girdle and then back at Hermione with no expression on her face. "I know that the girdle is beautiful, but it's nothing as fanciful as a goddess' clothing. An old acquaintance of mine had a fondness for antiques and gave that to me because he thought I would enjoy it." She smiled thinly, not hiding her discomfort in the matter. "I'm sure the jewels aren't even real, but I enjoy looking at it nonetheless."
Not for a second did Hermione believe this story. All liars had tells and Madam Tari wasn't nearly as good at lying as she probably liked to think. Hermione noticed the other woman took a sip of her drink immediately after the story, as if she was nervous and needed something to do with her hands. Something about the subject was certainly making the woman uncomfortable.
Hermione wasn't going to allow Madam Tari to get away with her lies, especially when there was so much at stake. "A few months ago, I might have accepted your story despite how obvious your lies are, but I've recently met Aphrodite herself and am less inclined to believe stories of chance. I'm starting to believe that there is very little actual chance when it comes to the gods."
Before Madam Tari could speak, Daisy, who had been hanging back with Harry to let Hermione do her work, decided to intervene. "Please help us. We're trying to find my daughter."
Madam Tari tapped her fingers against her leg, her eyes narrowed as she assessed whether Daisy was telling the truth. She seemed to see something that she liked in Daisy, because she nodded and glanced towards the girdle.
"It may have once belonged to a goddess. If you've had any dealings with the divine, I'm sure you understand how dangerous it is to cross them. I'll tell you what I can though." Her eyes moved to Daisy once more and she frowned slightly. "I wasn't able to have children of my own, but I would certainly be frantic if my little nephew went missing. I'll do what I can. What do you want with me?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione caught the briefest flash of movement.
She turned her head and saw the retreating back of the man they had watched enter the brothel only moments before them. The one who'd been wearing the trench coat probably meant to make him appear inconspicuous while actually making him stand out. Too many people wearing trench coats were naked under said coats for the garments to blend, especially when combined with large sunglasses and a skulking gait.
Hermione was no expert, but she was under the impression that when one visited a brothel, they didn't do it to lurk behind curtains and listen to private conversations. Even if he had been to see one of the ladies of the night employed by Madam Tari, Hermione would have thought that said business would take more than five minutes.
Glancing behind her, she made eye contact with Harry and looked towards the still visible figure to make sure he'd noticed the man as well. Harry nodded and subtly left the room in pursuit.
If Madam Tari had seen their interactions and Harry's disappearance, she didn't show any indication of it, so Hermione continued with their conversation as if nothing had happened.
"Aphrodite's up to something," Hermione said. "It started as a feud with Artemis but has turned into a vendetta against my partner and myself. Now Apollo and Daisy's daughter are involved and lives are at stake."
"They always are when the gods get tangled with mortals. We're a lot like insects to them; numerous and short-lived. They kill us and feel no more remorse than a human would feel for squishing an ant."
Hermione was steadily gaining respect for this woman who was clearly wise beyond her years, and had probably found herself on the wrong end of a deity's temper at least once in the past. Clearly she had survived the encounter.
Another point in Madam Tari's favour was what she had chosen to do with the girdle. Most people in her position would use the girdle to further their business or gain immeasurable wealth, yet Madam Tari knew enough to let such power stay as a pretty decoration in the corner of the room.
Madam Tari seemed to decide that there was something about them that she found trustworthy. "My place here is as close to a temple as she gets these days; people just don't worship the old gods anymore. She thought that this was the perfect place to leave something so precious to her, and me a perfect person to leave it with. I'm one of her favourite mortals, but she doesn't tell me much."
Hermione leaned forward, eager for more information. "Anything you know would help us." She just hoped that Madam Tari wasn't going to send them on another wild chase like the one with the octopus. That little adventure certainly hadn't ended well, Draco still had tentacle hickeys.
"I'm just a mortal. I'm not privy to the inner working of her divine mind, but I do know that the last time she paid me a visit for tea and a bout of feeling superior to us mortals, she mentioned something about a plan. She said she was going to make someone lust after an unattainable person and set about a chain of events that would ultimately end 'the pesky friends of Eros.'" She caught Hermione's reaction to the story and raised an eyebrow once more. "I'm assuming that this means something to you?"
Hermione nodded. "My partner and I are the pesky friends of Eros. Is there anything else you can tell us?"
"I've already said more than I should," Madam Tari said regretfully, seemingly impressed with Hermione's ability to anger a goddess – or perhaps it was that she'd angered a goddess and managed to survive. "I like you, Hermione. You helped us be rid of those terrible creatures that were preying on my girls when you could have just left them to terrorize us. Some people would have left us to suffer because of our business. Because I like you, I'm warning you now that you need to be careful. If I were you, I'd take that luscious partner of yours, hole up in a mountain cabin somewhere far from civilization, and hope like hell that Aphrodite never finds you."
"I can't do that." It wasn't that the idea hadn't occurred to Hermione, but there were too many people and magical creatures depending on her. Besides, Draco would get upset without being able to behead anything for too long, and there wouldn't be much for him to behead way up on a mountain.
Having gone far too long without stopping in at the office, Hermione took a moment to pop and catch up on paperwork after her meeting at the brothel. She very nearly jumped right out of her skin when she used her wand to turn on the lights, and Draco was there, sleeping at an uncomfortable angle and looking angle in his usual chair.
Her gasp woke him up, but he didn't rise to meet her. Instead, he blinked sleepily at her while Hermione watched him uncertainly, unsure if he was furious with her for kissing Smith. He hadn't tried to behead her yet, so at least there was that.
While he hadn't been upset with her in her dream, she still wasn't positive that the dream had truly happened. Her mind was more than capable of creating an elaborate dream just so her subconscious could give her a message.
There were a million things that she wanted to ask him. Why had he just left without confronting her? Where had he been since then? Why couldn't he have contacted her since? Those were just a few of the questions weighing on her mind.
"What are you doing in my office?" was the question she chose to ask him first.
"I wanted to talk to you and knew that you could only resist the siren's call of unfinished paperwork for so long."
Merlin, she'd even missed his voice. If she didn't love him so much, she'd be ashamed with herself for being so completely enamoured with him. Like with Auror Smith, she was drawn to Draco whether she wanted to be or not; that was the only similarity between the two situations, however. With Smith, her body had been pulled to him against her will, but with Draco, it was like she felt her best when he was there and a little bit fractured when he wasn't. She didn't break without Draco, but she wasn't capable of being fully content without him.
When she didn't answer quick enough, Draco slid his feet off of her desk and leaned back at an awkward angle so that he could take her hand and pull her forward, bringing her in front of him.
"I had an interesting dream," he said, his head level with her stomach so that he had to tilt it way back to make eye contact. "I was wondering if you had the same strange dream or if my mind invented the entire thing."
There had been so many other problems occupying her mind that Hermione just hadn't found the time to worry about Draco's reaction to her news. What if he was unhappy? She was suddenly gripped by anxiety and an insecurity that she'd never experienced before.
Sure, Draco wanted her, and she knew that he loved her, but they'd never even considered children. It had just been accepted that they were both much too busy with their jobs to have children, and they'd never discussed the possibility in the future. Magic wasn't fallible like Muggle contraceptives, and their relationship was relatively new, so the subject just hadn't come up.
Hermione unconsciously shifted backwards a step, wanting some space from him. She caught herself before she could start wringing her hands, but Draco certainly hadn't missed the sudden distance between them, and he didn't look happy about it.
"Granger," he prompted. "The dream?"
Reminding herself that she was a brave Gryffindor who had faced down Voldemort and an army of Death Eaters when she was only a teenager, Hermione looked him in the eye once more. One little conversation with Draco wasn't going to kill her – it had the potential to rip her heart right out of her chest and shatter it, but she would survive.
"The dream where Eros completely infringed on our privacy and invaded our minds? If you had that one as well, then it must have been real."
There. She's said it. Her heart pounded as she waited for him to say something. He was certainly taking him time.
His shoulders sagged and eyes closed as he took in a deep breath before meeting her stare once more. She couldn't read his expression as he nodded, unable to stop his eyes from darting down to her stomach for the briefest moment.
"Was everything he said true?"
She tried to gage whether it was anticipation or dread on his face, but sometimes Draco was just too skilled at concealing his emotions. Not even his eyes gave anything away as she mined their depths for the faintest hint of what he was thinking.
"Eros was right; I'm pregnant," she whispered. "I checked as soon as I woke up."
Apparently she hadn't been equally enigmatic with her expression, because he gave her a knowing look and then placed his hand flat on her abdomen. The small gesture soothed her to no end. Draco didn't look appalled at all. If anything, he looked a little awed. Worried, but there was definitely awe mixed in with it.
"Mother is going to kill me for knocking you up before marriage," he said, immediately flinching when Hermione whacked him in the head. "What? She will."
Hermione stepped away from him and collapsed in the second visitor's chair right beside his. "The contraceptive spells we used are one hundred percent effective. Aphrodite had to have interfered with them in some way."
"Granger," Draco said, unable to sit there and not react to her obvious turmoil. When it came to her being genuinely, achingly upset, he was suddenly incapable of keeping his distance and just watching it happen. He had to actually interfere and try to make it better. Draco hid the scowl his face twisted into at the realization; he was turning into a marshmallow, or worse, a Gryffindor. "I never pictured myself as a parent, but there's no way in Hell I'm letting you do this alone. I'm going to be the father I never had."
Hermione had always been a bit of a weepy person when she got sentimental, but the hormones seemed to have worsened this personality flaw considerably. She was just so relieved that Draco wanted their child that he planned to actively take part in its upbringing, that she burst into tears and launched herself into his waiting arms. He quickly bundled her against him and stroked a hand down her spine. With all the practice he was getting with his partner, he was sure to excel at soothing bawling children once the baby was born. His progress was especially impressive considering his attitude towards tears not so long ago.
Possibly getting better at controlling her hormone-fuelled emotions or –more likely - just strangely soothed by Draco and his slightly awkward comforting attempts, Hermione quickly stopped crying but didn't leave Draco's lap. She leaned her head against his shoulder and rested against him, thankful that he hadn't overreacted about Aphrodite and her meddling. Still, there was something she needed to say before she could forget about it completely.
"I'm sorry you had to see the incident with Smith in the hospital. I know I didn't have control of myself, but I still should have tried to resist longer. At least then maybe you wouldn't have had to witness it. I know I would have certainly been upset if the situation was reversed."
Draco kissed her shoulder, the closest bit of her to his mouth. "Don't be daft, Granger. This wasn't the Imperius curse; it was the power of an ancient goddess used to being obeyed. There was no resisting and we both know that."
His words actually made her feel so much better. Between the lifting of her worry about Draco's acceptance of their baby and her concern that he blamed her for the hospital incident, Hermione[] lost a lot of the weight from her shoulders. If Draco hadn't been holding her on his lap, she may have just floated away with how lighthearted she felt. There were still a number of things that would need her attention in the near future, but at the moment, she was content.
Knowing that Draco was quickly reaching his limit of sentimentality, Hermione changed the subject. "If you're not upset about witnessing the kiss in the hospital, then are you going to tell me where you disappeared to and what you were doing for so long?"
There was no point in telling him that she'd been worried about him while he was missing, Draco would tell her she was worrying over nothing and do what he wanted anyway. While she knew he was capable of assessing risks for himself, sometimes he got annoyed and lost his filters when speaking. Without her there with him, who was going to smooth over the ruffled feathers and make sure he didn't get himself killed? She was right to worry, Draco just wouldn't admit it.
"A bar," he started, squeezing her a little tighter when she snorted at his choice of venue. "I already knew that there was something strange about your kiss with Smith. You would never willingly touch him, much less-" his lips curled into an unconscious snarl at the memory and he wasn't able to finish his sentence.
"So how'd you end up in the bar?" she prompted when he just stared off into the distance with murder in his eyes.
Draco visibly shook off his anger and turned his attention back to her. "He was touching you. I either had to leave or behead him and I remembered how upset you were the last time I made a scene in the hospital."
"And you didn't come back to make sure the kiss didn't get out of hand while I was unable to fight it?"
"You were fighting it just fine. I saw you punch that pathetic excuse for an Auror. Besides, I'm almost certain the kiss only happened so that I could witness it, I'm betting he stopped after I left."
"He stopped because I punched him."
Draco pulled her hand from where it had been idly playing with the fine hairs by his ear and kissed her knuckles. "That's my lioness. Now shut up and let me finish the story or we'll be here talking forever. I'd prefer to spend my energy making up for lost shagging time."
Wanting to bristle at his tone but knowing that he didn't mean it, Hermione relaxed against him once more, her hand going back into his hair. She'd let him finish his story and then exact her revenge on him for telling her to shut up.