Previously on PS:
. "Did you see?" Hermione asked, sounding almost worried.
"Oh," he recalled. "No, I didn't... but Lucifer did." Hermione sighed.
"Well I don't much care. I'm thankfully not marrying him on Saturday." Draco smirked.
"You like me better?" he questioned, and Hermione laughed out loud.
"Well, I certainly hope so. I'm marrying you, remember? I'm supposed to like you better than anyone."
"And do you?" Draco asked, straightening as he fed his own ego. Hermione paused a moment.
"Hm... I dunno. I really liked Crookshanks."
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER SEVEN: Birthday Wishes
Hermione sat at the dinner table with her parents, picking at her corned beef. It was Friday. She would be getting married tomorrow. Of course, she was a bundle of nerves. Mrs. Granger couldn't have been happier. She seemed always to be smiling, and sending happy glances at her daughter. Hermione would force a smile back, but then go right to feeling sick to her stomach.
This meal was quieter than usual, as Hermione didn't feel able to talk about anything, and she was usually the source of most dinner conversation. It wasn't an uneventful meal, however, as nearly half way through the pot of cabbage, a familiar black owl landed in the windowsill. Hermione felt herself smile as she recognized him as Draco's. Madeline recognized him too.
"Well, what are you waiting for, love? Answer it," she suggested, and Hermione grinned as she pushed back her chair and fled to the window. Her parents shared an unseen smile of relief. They had prayed for years that their daughter would take to the marriage as well as she promised to at five. This couldn't be going better, even if they'd charmed it.
Hermione quickly untied the letter and fed the bird a bit of cracker, then returned to her seat at the table. Under the approving eyes of her parents, Hermione tore open the envelope and hurriedly pulled out its contents. She inhaled sharply and stuffed it back inside as a hot fire burned in her cheeks.
"Well?" Hunter prodded. "What's he say, love?" Hermione laughed nervously.
"Oh... it's nothing," she choked out quite unconvincingly. "May, may I be excused?" Madeline frowned and turned to her husband briefly.
"Well, I suppose so, Mina... but you've barely eaten a thing."
"I'm not feeling well, to be honest, mother. Nerves and whatnot." Madeline smiled softly and nodded, assuming Hermione would raid the kitchen later than night, and agreed. The youngest Granger (soon to be newest Malfoy) quickly stood from the table and raced out of the room and up the stairs. She closed the door to her room before sitting down and opening her letter once more. Inside the simple white envelope, was a glossy wizard picture... of her fiancé... in the buff. Hermione made a slight face and shook her head, flipping it over to read the back.
'Kiss, kiss.
Love,
Draco'
Hermione sighed and folded the picture in half so that the naked (and now silently screaming) Draco was able to sniff his own feet.
"Only you, Draco..." she mumbled to herself and trudged to the bookcase across the room. She grazed the shelves, looking for the most boring book she could find. Her mother had a habit of stealing romances... but she wouldn't want to read a bicycle assembly manual. Mini Draco would be safe in there.
"Well, that's not very appreciative, is it?" asked a voice from the window, and Hermione didn't even look up. She'd become as accustomed to randomly hearing Draco's voice as she had having people apparate into the room. Of course, there were exceptions... like when you were an inch from sleep... or when your best friend happens to appear directly in front of you.
"You're such a pervert. What if my parents had seen, hm? How exactly would I have explained that?" Draco chuckled.
"I doubt you'd have to EXPLAIN, Mione. It's pretty self-explanatory. And those were your rules, weren't they?" he pointed out, and Hermione sighed. She slid the manual back into the bookcase and got to her feet, coming toward the window. Draco was now sitting on the sill, his feet dangling over the other side. She gave a slightly frustrated sigh.
"Will you please not do that? You know I don't like it," she asked, taking residence against the wall. Draco chuckled.
"Don't do what?" he asked, swinging his feet and crossing arms over his chest.
"Draco..." Hermione whined, but he did nothing to ease her worry.
"Yes?" With a twitch of her eye, Hermione quickly placed a hand on his forehead so that her fingers fell over his eyes and her arm made a line over his head. Before Draco could fathom her intentions, she pulled, causing him to flip off the sill and onto the floor. As he tried to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him, Hermione settled herself atop him so that she sat lightly on his chest. "Oh..." Draco choked. "Don't do THAT..." Hermione mimicked him, but she was interrupted by her mother's call from the first floor.
"Hermione, dear, what's all the racket?" asked Madeline as she began to climb the stairs. Hermione gave a little peep of terror before she hurriedly called, "Nothing, Mum!" Then rolled off her fiancé.
"You have to go," she whispered harshly, getting to her feet and hurriedly helping Draco off the floor. He looked confused. This was a new installment.
"What? Why?"
"Because, you're not supposed to be here... she's going to kill me... come on, go!" pleaded Hermione in a panic and Draco hurriedly obeyed, if for no other reason than that his ignorance was scaring him. He climbed back out the window and started down the trellis. A bright head of blonde hair disappeared just as Mrs. Granger pushed open Hermione's bedroom door.
"Hermione..." Madeline spoke curiously, peering around the room. Hermione looked innocently up from her position on the bed and smiled at her mother.
"Yes Mum?" She lifted an eyebrow.
"What's going on?" Hermione attempted to look confused.
"Nothing," she said, trying to sound convincing.
"So I've heard... what was that noise, then?" Hermione looked down at her sheets.
"I fell off the bed..." she falsely admitted. "I was jumping..." Madeline gave a knowing smile.
"Trading nerves for excitement, are we?" Hermione smiled.
"Something like that."
"Alright, then... goodnight, love."
"Night, Mum." As soon as Madeline had closed the door, Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and fell back onto her bed. A quiet 'psst' interrupted her relief basking, and Hermione cracked open an eye, unsurprised to see Draco with his elbows on the windowsill, waving stupidly. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to greet him once again. "Draco, really... you should go... what if she comes back?"
"Yeah, yeah, when I feel like it. Why does she care, anyway? I'm always over here."
"Yeah... but you're not supposed to see me tonight," Hermione answered in a whisper, kneeling in front of the window, as to be eye level to him. Draco paused a moment.
"I'm not?" She shook her head.
"It's some wedding rule... Mum would go ballistic... Knowing her, she'd probably change the date or something drastic like that... evidently, it's super important." Draco listened with raised eyebrows.
"Oh."
"Right... so please, just go home... you've gotten me all nervous now." Draco gave a crooked smile.
"Alright, alright. Do I get a kiss goodbye?" he questioned suggestively, and Hermione crossed her arms.
"No."
"Aw, come on. I didn't send you that picture for nothing..."
"As far as I'm concerned, you did." Draco sighed.
"Fine," he agreed, then started back down the trellis. Hermione watched until he disappeared, then folded an arm over the sill and rested a cheek on it. "Oh," Draco cursed, just moments before appearing again. Hermione lifted her head.
"What now?"
"I almost forgot..." he said, fishing in his pocket. "The whole reason I came over in the first place." Hermione mocked a pout.
"Aw... you mean it wasn't just to see me?" Draco smirked.
"Not entirely... here," he said, producing a tiny package wrapped in yellow paper and tied with a silver ribbon. Hermione looked confused as she took the present, but Draco just grinned. "Happy birthday." Hermione nearly gasped. She'd almost forgotten about her own birthday, which was, of course, the next day. It was planned long ago that they would be married when they were both eighteen, and, as Draco was two months older, Hermione's birthday was the date. They evidently didn't want to waste any time. As the date drew closer, Hermione had found herself saddened over the fact that no one had remembered, but assumed a wedding was plenty of party, complete with a mound of gifts. She didn't need a birthday. They'd just skip this one.
But Draco remembered.
Hermione looked up from the little gift, which she now held nestled in her palms, to Draco, who was grinning like an idiot. She didn't know what to say... it was a great surprise, for sure. She nearly wanted to cry.
"Go on then," Draco insisted. "Open it." Still without words, Hermione mutely turned her attention back to the tiny gift. She lightly tugged on the end of the ribbon and, as the string fell away, the paper magically jumped off the box and folded itself on the floor. Hermione found herself smiling. She'd probably have been more surprised if Draco had tried the muggle way.
Paper set aside, Hermione lifted the lid of the white, square shaped box and gasped at the souvenir that was nestled inside. A tiny platinum ring, set with a marquee cut diamond. As Hermione placed a hand to her mouth, Draco began to explain.
"It's an engagement ring," he said, although it was unneeded. "I realized you didn't have one... and that's just not right." Hermione barely heard him, as she was staring openmouthed at the box in her hand. When his girlfriend didn't respond to his elucidation, Draco reached through the window and plucked the ring from its little round holster. Hermione allowed her left hand, which covered her mouth, to fall into his waiting palm, and Draco smiled as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Hermione stared for a moment, then brought her shining eyes back to his face. Draco looked, frankly, embarrassed. "I know it's not what you were expecting, but..." Hermione smiled softly, but again said nothing. This caused Draco to become quite nervous, and he began to trip over his own words. "If you don't like it, it's Lucifer's fault, and you can pick out whatever you want... I just thought that you should have it before tomorrow... I mean, who gets married if they're not engaged? And..." He stopped and took a breath. "Sorry." Hermione laughed out loud and rose on her knees, wrapping her arms around him. Draco, although slightly surprised at her, reciprocated her actions. Hermione didn't speak until they pulled away.
"It's wonderful," she assured, smiling at the pleasant tears she held back. Draco lifted an eyebrow.
"What, exactly?" She laughed.
"You..." she started, then gestured to her ring, "This... everything. Thank you." Again, a tint of blush rose in Draco's cheeks, creating a pink mask just below his eyes, which spread to the bridge of his nose. Hermione smiled at him and shook her head slowly. "I'm just surprised you remembered..." At this, Draco knitted his eyebrows.
"Why wouldn't I remember? It's your birthday... it's happened on the same day every year for the past eighteen. Think I haven't noticed the pattern by now?" Hermione laughed and turned her eyes to the floor, smiling.
"I know, it's just with the wedding and everything... I'd imagined we'd all just skip it this year," she admitted, and Draco laughed out loud.
"What? Why on earth would you think that?" Hermione shrugged slightly.
"No one else has said a word... but they're busy, I understand." Draco shook his head.
"It's not quite your birthday yet, love. Wait a tick. Tomorrow... you'll see," Draco assured, then pushed his body from its resting place against the sill and took hold of the trellis. He started down without another word, and Hermione watched him for a moment before leaning out the window. He had only made it a few steps.
"Draco, wait," Hermione called in whisper and Draco snapped his blonde head back toward her. Thinking better of calling back, he retraced his steps and came back to face her. He opened his mouth to ask her reason for calling, but Hermione had other plans for his lips. She initiated what was intentioned to be a chaste and simple kiss, but Draco found better use for their time. He took a good hold on her head, digging fingers into her hair as he cradled her ear against the skin between his thumb and forefinger, and Hermione took hold of his upper arms for what he assumed was keeping him steady. Draco, who was not going to waste of a perfectly good opportunity to show his stuff, took advantage of his situation and ravaged his bride, bruising her lips before going off course to kiss a bit along her jaw bone.
Hermione seemed in a daze, allowing Draco to do anything he wished, and thoroughly enjoying it along the way. However brutal his lips touched her skin, Draco's hands remained courteous. The one in her hair remained there, and the other was placed well below her breasts, nearer to her hip. Although his thumb had a habit of circling, Draco had no intentions to take his hands any farther. It wouldn't make sense... Tomorrow was set-aside for that... and, of course, he didn't want to scare her away.
Hermione was beginning to think that this wasn't such a good idea. She enjoyed Draco's not-so-gentle treatment, but it had her wondering what he thought of her. Did he like her to other women, or was she just Hermione? Had he assumed she wouldn't mind a little roughness... considering she could pin him to the ground faster than a cat could a mouse, or was he just playing off internal instinct... for himself? She allowed herself to enjoy his touch, which, once the initial shock wore off, became a little less painful... and, although it was pleasurable pain, Hermione was slightly relieved. In the end it was, of course, Hermione who pulled away first, cheeks rosy and breath ragged. She immediately trained her eyes on the floor, too embarrassed to look her snogger in the face. Draco, however, just smiled. He ran his thumb, which was still resting on her cheek as her head was pressed to his hand, over one reddened cheek, causing Hermione to look up.
"I should go, then, hm?" he asked, and, although a frown crossed her lips, Hermione nodded. Draco leaned close to give her one more peck before whispering, "I love you," in her ear. He let his hands melt away from her and again grab the trellis, then aid him as he climbed down. This time, Hermione leaned out the window and silently watched him grow smaller and start away. He turned back as he made it to the sidewalk, basked in the light of a streetlight, and grinned. Hermione, possessed by something she didn't understand, blew him a kiss before disappearing into her room. Draco watched for a good minute or so after, then turned and fled down the street, eager for bed. He'd have a big day to look forward to.
~
Hermione, although she had stepped back, watched Draco until he raced out of sight. She then shuffled to her bed and lit the candle on the night table before seating herself. It took a good few moments before her heart stopped beating so fast against her ribcage, and she took deep breaths in an attempt to aid. When she felt able to consciously think, Hermione backed against the headboard and pulled her knees close. She splayed her hand over her lap, face up as to view her ring, and inspected it closely. Draco (or Lucifer, whomever had chosen it) had a very good eye for diamonds. It was beautiful... clear, bright, sparkling... and big. At least two carats. It felt a bit awkward to wear, but she assumed she'd have to get used to it... as she planned never to take it off. Except, of course, for the wedding ceremony, as was mandatory.
It wasn't five minutes before the beautiful image that was Draco's ring, sparkling in the candlelight, was blurred to Hermione's eyes. She didn't bother to try and stop the tears from coming and laughed to herself as she felt them spill over her cheeks. He loved her. He'd said it, clearly. I love you. These words had never come forth so seriously from Draco's lips. A sarcastic "Love you too," when she'd insulted him, or "Take me now," when she'd done something not-so ladylike... but never a straight forward, serious "I love you." It brought forth the same warm feeling in her stomach that a tickle fight would... or if he pushed her down... That was how Draco showed affection... not in words, but in actions. And, speaking of actions, there was that kiss... definitely one for the memory books.
Tears never ceasing, Hermione readied herself for bed and crawled below the covers, then embraced her pillow and sobbed into it. For hours, she sniveled, cries dying down only when she drifted into sleep.
~*~
"Hermione! I've called you twice! Get up!" shouted Madeline as she banged on Hermione's door. The brunette, who was nestled comfortably under a pile of covers, jumped. Pulling her head from below the pillow, Hermione glanced toward the clock. It was five AM. Much... much too early. With a loud moan, she fell back into the sheets and closed her eyes. It wasn't five minutes before her mother burst into the room, this time forgetting to knock.
"Hermione Renee Boyce, get your lazy Gryffindor behind out of bed and into something other than pajamas right now! You cannot be late for your own wedding, I won't let you," she lectured, throwing the sheets off her daughter and tearing the pillows away. Hermione, who was now far from sleep, but at the same time far from ready to get up, snapped her eyes open. It was Saturday... her birthday Saturday. Her wedding Saturday. As quickly as it came, the panic ceased. It was five AM. The wedding didn't start until nine. There was plenty of time.
"Mum... lemme sleep," she pleaded, curling into a fetal position and holding her head in her hands.
"Hermione, get up!" Madeline demanded, rolling her over, and Hermione sighed.
"Why?"
"Why? Why she says.... WHY do I have to get up!? I'm just getting married... it's just the most important day of my life... it's just my chance at making my family proud. Why in the world would I want to get up?" Madeline mocked as she retreated to the closet in the corner and started looking through possible outfits. Hermione sat bolt upright.
"What did you say?"
"I said get up, you lazy lug!"
"No..." Hermione corrected herself. "About making the family proud. Aren't you already proud of me?"
"Oh..." Madeline mumbled, and bit her lip softly, turning to face her daughter. "Well, of course we are, love... but we, that is to say your father and I, have been waiting for this since the day you were born..." Hermione frowned.
"What? To marry me off and ship me away? Or to use me as a connection between you and your precious friends? That's all this is to you, isn't it mother? It's all about bloodlines and breeding..." Madeline seemed to have given up all hope on clothing and was now concentrating on her daughter.
"Hermione... no..." she said. "We love you... we just want to ensure your happiness... We've known the Malfoys for a long time... we knew they'd bring their son up right... I'll admit it was a perk to connect our families, but it was never solely about that," she promised and Hermione hung her head. After a pause, Madeline went back to sifting through clothes. "I thought you liked Draco..." Hermione looked up at her mother, who was now frowning and looking as if she'd been told of a relative death. She turned to her daughter with damp eyes, as if begging her to reassure that she'd made the right decision. Pleading for Hermione to agree that Draco was the perfect choice...
"I do, Mum," she admitted, "I must have... misunderstood you. I'm sorry." Madeline smiled.
"Are you sure? I swear to you, Hermione... I love you more than life itself... I would gladly die to keep you from harm... I..."
"Mum, don't say that." Madeline grinned.
"It's true, though..."
"I don't care, I hate it when people say that," Hermione complained, if for no other reason than to avoid conversation, and curled back up on her mattress.
"Don't you go back to sleep, missy. We've got to get you dressed... I knew I should have picked your clothes last night... here, what about this?" she asked, holding up a beige colored wool sweater and a pair of white Capri pants. Hermione cracked one eye and made a face, causing her mother to sigh and head back into the closet.
"Why do I need real clothes, Mum? Have you decided you don' t like my dress after all?" Madeline chuckled.
"Of course not. We have a lot to do before we put your dress on, love... hair, make up... plus we have to get everything set up...and that's only the beginning. I daresay you'd be a might bit uncomfortable in your dress all day..." she dragged on and Hermione slapped herself for lack of insight. "This?" Madeline asked, holding up a white tank top with matching, flare legged, jeans. Evidently... wedding... white... there was theme in her decorating. Hermione sat up and sighed, shaking her head. Her mother looked confused. "What's so bad about this one?"
"Nothing... I can't. Not a good week for me to be wearing white," Hermione said suggestively, and Madeline was baffled for only a moment.
"Oh!" she exclaimed in triumph, then repeated herself with a tone of displeasure. "Oh... I'm sorry, love. No worries... that can be fixed." Hermione lifted an eyebrow.
"With what? A miracle?" Mrs. Granger laughed.
"No, love, a spell. Didn't they teach you anything at Hogwarts? I told your father the American Institute of Magical Learning was the best thing to ever happen to me... but he insisted it just gave me an accent..." she mumbled as she fished around for her wand, then granted it's arrival with a smile. After a moment of triumphantly gazing at her most prized possession, she quickly flicked it at her daughter, sending a stream of pink sparkles in her direction. They sprinkled over Hermione like snow, then absorbed into her skin. Instantly, she felt the constant churning of menstruation cease and her muscles relax... minus the flow of blood with usually accompanied such a move.
"Wow..."
"Nice, isn't it? Only works for forty-eight hours... then you'll resume as if nothing had happened. Lifesaver, really."
"You'll have to teach me that one..." Hermione said, amazed at her ability to stand without making a quick trip to the bathroom.
"I would, but right now you'll want to get dressed," Madeline suggested, tossing her daughter the selected apparel. Hermione smiled as she retreated to her bathroom, but frowned as she shut the door behind her. When the curse of the blood, as quoted from Stephen King, had reigned upon her just two nights ago, it had almost been a relief. An excuse... For the last few weeks, apprehension for the wedding had been replaced by fear of the wedding night. She knew for sure that Draco would want to corroborate their marriage as any young couple should, and she didn't blame him... she was just scared. She'd saved herself for this... and now she wasn't sure she wanted it. Her period was an excuse. 'Sorry Draco, it's that time of the month... guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon...'. He would most likely not speak to her for a good few hours after that admittance. Hermione sighed as she changed her clothes. No turning back now.
. "Did you see?" Hermione asked, sounding almost worried.
"Oh," he recalled. "No, I didn't... but Lucifer did." Hermione sighed.
"Well I don't much care. I'm thankfully not marrying him on Saturday." Draco smirked.
"You like me better?" he questioned, and Hermione laughed out loud.
"Well, I certainly hope so. I'm marrying you, remember? I'm supposed to like you better than anyone."
"And do you?" Draco asked, straightening as he fed his own ego. Hermione paused a moment.
"Hm... I dunno. I really liked Crookshanks."
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER SEVEN: Birthday Wishes
Hermione sat at the dinner table with her parents, picking at her corned beef. It was Friday. She would be getting married tomorrow. Of course, she was a bundle of nerves. Mrs. Granger couldn't have been happier. She seemed always to be smiling, and sending happy glances at her daughter. Hermione would force a smile back, but then go right to feeling sick to her stomach.
This meal was quieter than usual, as Hermione didn't feel able to talk about anything, and she was usually the source of most dinner conversation. It wasn't an uneventful meal, however, as nearly half way through the pot of cabbage, a familiar black owl landed in the windowsill. Hermione felt herself smile as she recognized him as Draco's. Madeline recognized him too.
"Well, what are you waiting for, love? Answer it," she suggested, and Hermione grinned as she pushed back her chair and fled to the window. Her parents shared an unseen smile of relief. They had prayed for years that their daughter would take to the marriage as well as she promised to at five. This couldn't be going better, even if they'd charmed it.
Hermione quickly untied the letter and fed the bird a bit of cracker, then returned to her seat at the table. Under the approving eyes of her parents, Hermione tore open the envelope and hurriedly pulled out its contents. She inhaled sharply and stuffed it back inside as a hot fire burned in her cheeks.
"Well?" Hunter prodded. "What's he say, love?" Hermione laughed nervously.
"Oh... it's nothing," she choked out quite unconvincingly. "May, may I be excused?" Madeline frowned and turned to her husband briefly.
"Well, I suppose so, Mina... but you've barely eaten a thing."
"I'm not feeling well, to be honest, mother. Nerves and whatnot." Madeline smiled softly and nodded, assuming Hermione would raid the kitchen later than night, and agreed. The youngest Granger (soon to be newest Malfoy) quickly stood from the table and raced out of the room and up the stairs. She closed the door to her room before sitting down and opening her letter once more. Inside the simple white envelope, was a glossy wizard picture... of her fiancé... in the buff. Hermione made a slight face and shook her head, flipping it over to read the back.
'Kiss, kiss.
Love,
Draco'
Hermione sighed and folded the picture in half so that the naked (and now silently screaming) Draco was able to sniff his own feet.
"Only you, Draco..." she mumbled to herself and trudged to the bookcase across the room. She grazed the shelves, looking for the most boring book she could find. Her mother had a habit of stealing romances... but she wouldn't want to read a bicycle assembly manual. Mini Draco would be safe in there.
"Well, that's not very appreciative, is it?" asked a voice from the window, and Hermione didn't even look up. She'd become as accustomed to randomly hearing Draco's voice as she had having people apparate into the room. Of course, there were exceptions... like when you were an inch from sleep... or when your best friend happens to appear directly in front of you.
"You're such a pervert. What if my parents had seen, hm? How exactly would I have explained that?" Draco chuckled.
"I doubt you'd have to EXPLAIN, Mione. It's pretty self-explanatory. And those were your rules, weren't they?" he pointed out, and Hermione sighed. She slid the manual back into the bookcase and got to her feet, coming toward the window. Draco was now sitting on the sill, his feet dangling over the other side. She gave a slightly frustrated sigh.
"Will you please not do that? You know I don't like it," she asked, taking residence against the wall. Draco chuckled.
"Don't do what?" he asked, swinging his feet and crossing arms over his chest.
"Draco..." Hermione whined, but he did nothing to ease her worry.
"Yes?" With a twitch of her eye, Hermione quickly placed a hand on his forehead so that her fingers fell over his eyes and her arm made a line over his head. Before Draco could fathom her intentions, she pulled, causing him to flip off the sill and onto the floor. As he tried to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him, Hermione settled herself atop him so that she sat lightly on his chest. "Oh..." Draco choked. "Don't do THAT..." Hermione mimicked him, but she was interrupted by her mother's call from the first floor.
"Hermione, dear, what's all the racket?" asked Madeline as she began to climb the stairs. Hermione gave a little peep of terror before she hurriedly called, "Nothing, Mum!" Then rolled off her fiancé.
"You have to go," she whispered harshly, getting to her feet and hurriedly helping Draco off the floor. He looked confused. This was a new installment.
"What? Why?"
"Because, you're not supposed to be here... she's going to kill me... come on, go!" pleaded Hermione in a panic and Draco hurriedly obeyed, if for no other reason than that his ignorance was scaring him. He climbed back out the window and started down the trellis. A bright head of blonde hair disappeared just as Mrs. Granger pushed open Hermione's bedroom door.
"Hermione..." Madeline spoke curiously, peering around the room. Hermione looked innocently up from her position on the bed and smiled at her mother.
"Yes Mum?" She lifted an eyebrow.
"What's going on?" Hermione attempted to look confused.
"Nothing," she said, trying to sound convincing.
"So I've heard... what was that noise, then?" Hermione looked down at her sheets.
"I fell off the bed..." she falsely admitted. "I was jumping..." Madeline gave a knowing smile.
"Trading nerves for excitement, are we?" Hermione smiled.
"Something like that."
"Alright, then... goodnight, love."
"Night, Mum." As soon as Madeline had closed the door, Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and fell back onto her bed. A quiet 'psst' interrupted her relief basking, and Hermione cracked open an eye, unsurprised to see Draco with his elbows on the windowsill, waving stupidly. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to greet him once again. "Draco, really... you should go... what if she comes back?"
"Yeah, yeah, when I feel like it. Why does she care, anyway? I'm always over here."
"Yeah... but you're not supposed to see me tonight," Hermione answered in a whisper, kneeling in front of the window, as to be eye level to him. Draco paused a moment.
"I'm not?" She shook her head.
"It's some wedding rule... Mum would go ballistic... Knowing her, she'd probably change the date or something drastic like that... evidently, it's super important." Draco listened with raised eyebrows.
"Oh."
"Right... so please, just go home... you've gotten me all nervous now." Draco gave a crooked smile.
"Alright, alright. Do I get a kiss goodbye?" he questioned suggestively, and Hermione crossed her arms.
"No."
"Aw, come on. I didn't send you that picture for nothing..."
"As far as I'm concerned, you did." Draco sighed.
"Fine," he agreed, then started back down the trellis. Hermione watched until he disappeared, then folded an arm over the sill and rested a cheek on it. "Oh," Draco cursed, just moments before appearing again. Hermione lifted her head.
"What now?"
"I almost forgot..." he said, fishing in his pocket. "The whole reason I came over in the first place." Hermione mocked a pout.
"Aw... you mean it wasn't just to see me?" Draco smirked.
"Not entirely... here," he said, producing a tiny package wrapped in yellow paper and tied with a silver ribbon. Hermione looked confused as she took the present, but Draco just grinned. "Happy birthday." Hermione nearly gasped. She'd almost forgotten about her own birthday, which was, of course, the next day. It was planned long ago that they would be married when they were both eighteen, and, as Draco was two months older, Hermione's birthday was the date. They evidently didn't want to waste any time. As the date drew closer, Hermione had found herself saddened over the fact that no one had remembered, but assumed a wedding was plenty of party, complete with a mound of gifts. She didn't need a birthday. They'd just skip this one.
But Draco remembered.
Hermione looked up from the little gift, which she now held nestled in her palms, to Draco, who was grinning like an idiot. She didn't know what to say... it was a great surprise, for sure. She nearly wanted to cry.
"Go on then," Draco insisted. "Open it." Still without words, Hermione mutely turned her attention back to the tiny gift. She lightly tugged on the end of the ribbon and, as the string fell away, the paper magically jumped off the box and folded itself on the floor. Hermione found herself smiling. She'd probably have been more surprised if Draco had tried the muggle way.
Paper set aside, Hermione lifted the lid of the white, square shaped box and gasped at the souvenir that was nestled inside. A tiny platinum ring, set with a marquee cut diamond. As Hermione placed a hand to her mouth, Draco began to explain.
"It's an engagement ring," he said, although it was unneeded. "I realized you didn't have one... and that's just not right." Hermione barely heard him, as she was staring openmouthed at the box in her hand. When his girlfriend didn't respond to his elucidation, Draco reached through the window and plucked the ring from its little round holster. Hermione allowed her left hand, which covered her mouth, to fall into his waiting palm, and Draco smiled as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Hermione stared for a moment, then brought her shining eyes back to his face. Draco looked, frankly, embarrassed. "I know it's not what you were expecting, but..." Hermione smiled softly, but again said nothing. This caused Draco to become quite nervous, and he began to trip over his own words. "If you don't like it, it's Lucifer's fault, and you can pick out whatever you want... I just thought that you should have it before tomorrow... I mean, who gets married if they're not engaged? And..." He stopped and took a breath. "Sorry." Hermione laughed out loud and rose on her knees, wrapping her arms around him. Draco, although slightly surprised at her, reciprocated her actions. Hermione didn't speak until they pulled away.
"It's wonderful," she assured, smiling at the pleasant tears she held back. Draco lifted an eyebrow.
"What, exactly?" She laughed.
"You..." she started, then gestured to her ring, "This... everything. Thank you." Again, a tint of blush rose in Draco's cheeks, creating a pink mask just below his eyes, which spread to the bridge of his nose. Hermione smiled at him and shook her head slowly. "I'm just surprised you remembered..." At this, Draco knitted his eyebrows.
"Why wouldn't I remember? It's your birthday... it's happened on the same day every year for the past eighteen. Think I haven't noticed the pattern by now?" Hermione laughed and turned her eyes to the floor, smiling.
"I know, it's just with the wedding and everything... I'd imagined we'd all just skip it this year," she admitted, and Draco laughed out loud.
"What? Why on earth would you think that?" Hermione shrugged slightly.
"No one else has said a word... but they're busy, I understand." Draco shook his head.
"It's not quite your birthday yet, love. Wait a tick. Tomorrow... you'll see," Draco assured, then pushed his body from its resting place against the sill and took hold of the trellis. He started down without another word, and Hermione watched him for a moment before leaning out the window. He had only made it a few steps.
"Draco, wait," Hermione called in whisper and Draco snapped his blonde head back toward her. Thinking better of calling back, he retraced his steps and came back to face her. He opened his mouth to ask her reason for calling, but Hermione had other plans for his lips. She initiated what was intentioned to be a chaste and simple kiss, but Draco found better use for their time. He took a good hold on her head, digging fingers into her hair as he cradled her ear against the skin between his thumb and forefinger, and Hermione took hold of his upper arms for what he assumed was keeping him steady. Draco, who was not going to waste of a perfectly good opportunity to show his stuff, took advantage of his situation and ravaged his bride, bruising her lips before going off course to kiss a bit along her jaw bone.
Hermione seemed in a daze, allowing Draco to do anything he wished, and thoroughly enjoying it along the way. However brutal his lips touched her skin, Draco's hands remained courteous. The one in her hair remained there, and the other was placed well below her breasts, nearer to her hip. Although his thumb had a habit of circling, Draco had no intentions to take his hands any farther. It wouldn't make sense... Tomorrow was set-aside for that... and, of course, he didn't want to scare her away.
Hermione was beginning to think that this wasn't such a good idea. She enjoyed Draco's not-so-gentle treatment, but it had her wondering what he thought of her. Did he like her to other women, or was she just Hermione? Had he assumed she wouldn't mind a little roughness... considering she could pin him to the ground faster than a cat could a mouse, or was he just playing off internal instinct... for himself? She allowed herself to enjoy his touch, which, once the initial shock wore off, became a little less painful... and, although it was pleasurable pain, Hermione was slightly relieved. In the end it was, of course, Hermione who pulled away first, cheeks rosy and breath ragged. She immediately trained her eyes on the floor, too embarrassed to look her snogger in the face. Draco, however, just smiled. He ran his thumb, which was still resting on her cheek as her head was pressed to his hand, over one reddened cheek, causing Hermione to look up.
"I should go, then, hm?" he asked, and, although a frown crossed her lips, Hermione nodded. Draco leaned close to give her one more peck before whispering, "I love you," in her ear. He let his hands melt away from her and again grab the trellis, then aid him as he climbed down. This time, Hermione leaned out the window and silently watched him grow smaller and start away. He turned back as he made it to the sidewalk, basked in the light of a streetlight, and grinned. Hermione, possessed by something she didn't understand, blew him a kiss before disappearing into her room. Draco watched for a good minute or so after, then turned and fled down the street, eager for bed. He'd have a big day to look forward to.
~
Hermione, although she had stepped back, watched Draco until he raced out of sight. She then shuffled to her bed and lit the candle on the night table before seating herself. It took a good few moments before her heart stopped beating so fast against her ribcage, and she took deep breaths in an attempt to aid. When she felt able to consciously think, Hermione backed against the headboard and pulled her knees close. She splayed her hand over her lap, face up as to view her ring, and inspected it closely. Draco (or Lucifer, whomever had chosen it) had a very good eye for diamonds. It was beautiful... clear, bright, sparkling... and big. At least two carats. It felt a bit awkward to wear, but she assumed she'd have to get used to it... as she planned never to take it off. Except, of course, for the wedding ceremony, as was mandatory.
It wasn't five minutes before the beautiful image that was Draco's ring, sparkling in the candlelight, was blurred to Hermione's eyes. She didn't bother to try and stop the tears from coming and laughed to herself as she felt them spill over her cheeks. He loved her. He'd said it, clearly. I love you. These words had never come forth so seriously from Draco's lips. A sarcastic "Love you too," when she'd insulted him, or "Take me now," when she'd done something not-so ladylike... but never a straight forward, serious "I love you." It brought forth the same warm feeling in her stomach that a tickle fight would... or if he pushed her down... That was how Draco showed affection... not in words, but in actions. And, speaking of actions, there was that kiss... definitely one for the memory books.
Tears never ceasing, Hermione readied herself for bed and crawled below the covers, then embraced her pillow and sobbed into it. For hours, she sniveled, cries dying down only when she drifted into sleep.
~*~
"Hermione! I've called you twice! Get up!" shouted Madeline as she banged on Hermione's door. The brunette, who was nestled comfortably under a pile of covers, jumped. Pulling her head from below the pillow, Hermione glanced toward the clock. It was five AM. Much... much too early. With a loud moan, she fell back into the sheets and closed her eyes. It wasn't five minutes before her mother burst into the room, this time forgetting to knock.
"Hermione Renee Boyce, get your lazy Gryffindor behind out of bed and into something other than pajamas right now! You cannot be late for your own wedding, I won't let you," she lectured, throwing the sheets off her daughter and tearing the pillows away. Hermione, who was now far from sleep, but at the same time far from ready to get up, snapped her eyes open. It was Saturday... her birthday Saturday. Her wedding Saturday. As quickly as it came, the panic ceased. It was five AM. The wedding didn't start until nine. There was plenty of time.
"Mum... lemme sleep," she pleaded, curling into a fetal position and holding her head in her hands.
"Hermione, get up!" Madeline demanded, rolling her over, and Hermione sighed.
"Why?"
"Why? Why she says.... WHY do I have to get up!? I'm just getting married... it's just the most important day of my life... it's just my chance at making my family proud. Why in the world would I want to get up?" Madeline mocked as she retreated to the closet in the corner and started looking through possible outfits. Hermione sat bolt upright.
"What did you say?"
"I said get up, you lazy lug!"
"No..." Hermione corrected herself. "About making the family proud. Aren't you already proud of me?"
"Oh..." Madeline mumbled, and bit her lip softly, turning to face her daughter. "Well, of course we are, love... but we, that is to say your father and I, have been waiting for this since the day you were born..." Hermione frowned.
"What? To marry me off and ship me away? Or to use me as a connection between you and your precious friends? That's all this is to you, isn't it mother? It's all about bloodlines and breeding..." Madeline seemed to have given up all hope on clothing and was now concentrating on her daughter.
"Hermione... no..." she said. "We love you... we just want to ensure your happiness... We've known the Malfoys for a long time... we knew they'd bring their son up right... I'll admit it was a perk to connect our families, but it was never solely about that," she promised and Hermione hung her head. After a pause, Madeline went back to sifting through clothes. "I thought you liked Draco..." Hermione looked up at her mother, who was now frowning and looking as if she'd been told of a relative death. She turned to her daughter with damp eyes, as if begging her to reassure that she'd made the right decision. Pleading for Hermione to agree that Draco was the perfect choice...
"I do, Mum," she admitted, "I must have... misunderstood you. I'm sorry." Madeline smiled.
"Are you sure? I swear to you, Hermione... I love you more than life itself... I would gladly die to keep you from harm... I..."
"Mum, don't say that." Madeline grinned.
"It's true, though..."
"I don't care, I hate it when people say that," Hermione complained, if for no other reason than to avoid conversation, and curled back up on her mattress.
"Don't you go back to sleep, missy. We've got to get you dressed... I knew I should have picked your clothes last night... here, what about this?" she asked, holding up a beige colored wool sweater and a pair of white Capri pants. Hermione cracked one eye and made a face, causing her mother to sigh and head back into the closet.
"Why do I need real clothes, Mum? Have you decided you don' t like my dress after all?" Madeline chuckled.
"Of course not. We have a lot to do before we put your dress on, love... hair, make up... plus we have to get everything set up...and that's only the beginning. I daresay you'd be a might bit uncomfortable in your dress all day..." she dragged on and Hermione slapped herself for lack of insight. "This?" Madeline asked, holding up a white tank top with matching, flare legged, jeans. Evidently... wedding... white... there was theme in her decorating. Hermione sat up and sighed, shaking her head. Her mother looked confused. "What's so bad about this one?"
"Nothing... I can't. Not a good week for me to be wearing white," Hermione said suggestively, and Madeline was baffled for only a moment.
"Oh!" she exclaimed in triumph, then repeated herself with a tone of displeasure. "Oh... I'm sorry, love. No worries... that can be fixed." Hermione lifted an eyebrow.
"With what? A miracle?" Mrs. Granger laughed.
"No, love, a spell. Didn't they teach you anything at Hogwarts? I told your father the American Institute of Magical Learning was the best thing to ever happen to me... but he insisted it just gave me an accent..." she mumbled as she fished around for her wand, then granted it's arrival with a smile. After a moment of triumphantly gazing at her most prized possession, she quickly flicked it at her daughter, sending a stream of pink sparkles in her direction. They sprinkled over Hermione like snow, then absorbed into her skin. Instantly, she felt the constant churning of menstruation cease and her muscles relax... minus the flow of blood with usually accompanied such a move.
"Wow..."
"Nice, isn't it? Only works for forty-eight hours... then you'll resume as if nothing had happened. Lifesaver, really."
"You'll have to teach me that one..." Hermione said, amazed at her ability to stand without making a quick trip to the bathroom.
"I would, but right now you'll want to get dressed," Madeline suggested, tossing her daughter the selected apparel. Hermione smiled as she retreated to her bathroom, but frowned as she shut the door behind her. When the curse of the blood, as quoted from Stephen King, had reigned upon her just two nights ago, it had almost been a relief. An excuse... For the last few weeks, apprehension for the wedding had been replaced by fear of the wedding night. She knew for sure that Draco would want to corroborate their marriage as any young couple should, and she didn't blame him... she was just scared. She'd saved herself for this... and now she wasn't sure she wanted it. Her period was an excuse. 'Sorry Draco, it's that time of the month... guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon...'. He would most likely not speak to her for a good few hours after that admittance. Hermione sighed as she changed her clothes. No turning back now.