When Hermione's hysterical sobs had ceased and her tear-stained face had dried, Draco led his fiancé to the leaky cauldron, eager to take her to the safety of their home, the Malfoy Manor. One arm was wrapped around her shoulders, sheltering her away from the view of the world; the other was clutching his wand, prepared for his next encounter with the Weasel.
As predicted, the couple was met with unrelenting stares as they walked into the pub that had always welcomed them so warmly before. The silence was deafening as they treid to discretely make their way across to the fireplace, Hermione's eyes, puffy from relentless crying, were wildly looking around as she attempted in vain to avoid the gazes that were resting on her. "Draco, we need to get out of here," she muttered so only the man beside her could hear, "We really need to get out of here."
Lengthening his stride slightly, Draco waited until Hermione matched his before making a direct beeline for the fireplace, also trying to avoid the stares of those around them. The stench of alcohol was reaching his nostrils, the quietly played radio sounded louder than a screaming banshee next to his ear, "It's okay my love, we are so out of here." With a final stride, the couple stood before the fireplace and looked eagerly at the flames licking at their feet, "You first my dear" Draco softly spoke before offering her a jar of powder.
Taking a handful of the powder, Hermione stood within the flames and smiled at Draco before releasing the powder and shouting, "Malfoy Manor" into the green flames that engulfed her.
Following suit, Draco took a handful of powder but shouted into the flames, "59 Wayward Way" and disappeared into the green flames, leaving the patrons of the bar to whisper their wonder.
Inside the fireplace, Hermione begun to spin, not an unfamiliar feeling as she had flooed so many times before, yet still made her stomach queasy to watch the other rooms fly by. Tightly closing her eyes, she grabbed her bags tighter around her and willed for this ride to end as she did so many times before when she was younger and her parents took her to theme parks. The air was rushing around her legs, and she peeked open an eye to see nothing but a blur, she was moving faster than ever before and quickly clammed her eye shut. She didn't want to know, she just wanted to be home, she wanted to be with Draco and no where else.
Draco was impatient, he was waiting to arrive, he wanted to avenge the pain of the woman he loved; he wanted to see Ronald Weasely writhing in pain at his feet. He wanted to watch him gasp his last breath and apologise for everything he had done, he wanted for Hermione's pain to be gone, he wanted the Weasel to pay.
As he spun around and around in the fireplace, he wondered what he would do, how he would wreak his revenge. Would it be as easy as destroying his life from this time forward financially, romantically, or physically? Could he maim the Weasel from raping another woman, cripple him for life, or easier still, leave him for the authorities? Could he take what little money the red-headed fool had, force him to sign over all of his possessions and watch him live in the streets? The damned Weasel deserved it all.
She was spinning so fast, she feared she would fall over when it all ceased. The flames died around her feet and she all but fell onto the plush rug before the fireplace in the room she shared with Draco. Throwing her bags on a nearby chair, she threw herself on the bed and stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. So many times she had lay staring at the ancient ceilings above their bed, but never before had these thoughts invaded her head.
Her wedding was scheduled to be in a few weeks, her baby to be born in a few months and she was overcome by the strangest emotions. One minute she was laughing, jumping for joy about the smallest thing, yet the next she was a crying mess confiding her deepest secrets in the less secretive place in London. She felt like a crazed woman, yet she knew her life was how it was meant to be; she was with her soul mate.
As the spinning slowed and the grates once again became clear, Draco made up his mind. Waiting patiently for the fire to stop, he stepped gingerly out of the fireplace and what seemed to be a run down old factory. The floors were uncarpeted concrete floors, with what looked to be old crates as furniture and immediately a look of disgust formed on his face. This was exactly the type of hovel he always imagined Weasely living in.
Taking a few more steps into what could be called the living room he called out, "Weasely! You have a visitor!" and promptly stood in the middle of the room and waited, his hand on his wand and a smirk in place, the Weasel was so going to get what he deserved.
Heya's a new chapter just for all of those that reviewed (I'm too lazy to specify who you are...but you know exactly who you are, if that makes sense...??) Please enjoy and leave a review!!!
Mwah
Queen of the Scoubies