A/N: First off, I know I suck for waiting months before posting this next chapter. A lot of circumstances made it so that I could not update, but I won't bore you all with those. Enjoy.
2 Months, 4 Days, 7 hours.
Hermione Granger still paced around the enormous Malfoy library and searched. With the astounding collection of books on the Dark Arts she imagined there would be something in here that would tell her how to break whatever spell had been cast on her and remove that infernal ring off of her finger.
No such luck.
She reasoned that it was highly unlikely she would find anything. No one had bothered her since that night, on the contrary, they had treated her quite well. She was fed and taken care of, she had Diana near her most of the time, though she seldom asked the young girl to do anything. She was allowed to spend the entire day in the library and only retrieve when she felt she needed sleep, that's when she didn't fall asleep near the fireplace surrounded by books. If there was such a book, as the one she searched for, they would not have permitted such a thing.
It's pointless anyway.
There was no one there to run to later on. The evidence was crystal clear, there was no more Order, no more "good" guys. Just death eaters, just muggles being rounded up. News came into the manor everyday, she heard it whispered among the corridors. Besides, why would she want to run back to the same people who had sacrificed her parents to someone who would obviously lie. Did they really think it was that easy? And why had the Order never bothered to look for her?
Questions like those were no longer unusual in Hermione's mind and she found herself indulging in them more and more each day. She no longer cared, however, she could feel her body go numb, her mind sharpened however.
Draco Malfoy was well aware of this fact, for as Hermione immersed deeper within her mind and into these thoughts, a bright golden glow irradiated around her and Draco could feel a swelling in his chest. He didn't like it one bit, in fact he was almost prone to saying he hated it. However, he saw the great that could come from it, and more than anything, he had learned to follow orders.
It was on a bright Sunday morning that any relatively new events occurred. The sky was clear, the air was crisp and the leaves on the trees of the Manor Gardens had begun to turn colorful and eventually fall off the tree branches.
It was October, Hermione knew this from the large and strange looking grandfather clock that stood in the library. It not only displayed the time but announced, quite literally, the day and month of the year, but only when asked nicely. Hermione had learned this when one day she wondered out loud what day it was. It was also quite obvious that Hermione was the only one who could get the clock to speak up, a fact that annoyed Malfoy quite a bit whenever he came to visit. The clocks refusal to tell him the date only angered him more, engaging profanities and leaving the clock to shut itself into a small box that hung on the wall.
Hermione had given up her search in the library with a slight tangy feeling of regret. That morning she gave Diana permission to go about her business and do as she wished. The young girl, delighted with this news grabbed her gardening tools and set off to a hidden part of land where she could practice her one true love: Herbology.
Hermione dressed herself in jeans and and a stripped sweater, placed a scarf around her neck and a knitted hat on her head, then she herself headed outside and wandered about the gardens. There was quite a bit she didn't understand from it all. Mostly, how such dark times still produced such beautiful gardens, almost as if all of the natural beauties that she had admired as a child were ignoramus to all the events that happened around it. Natural life went on.
She had just sat in a stone bench admiring a plantation that now grew quite large pumpkins when a shadow covered her view. Hermione didn't need to turn around to see who it was standing beside her. The energy that she felt growing inside her more and more each day surged through her veins every time he came near.
"Malfoy," she piped.
"Granger" He retorted. Although Hermione's gaze never left the pumpkins she felt him slip onto the bench next to her and sudden warmth wrapped around her body. She had learned this was the effect they had on each other, the energy that now surged between them, thanks to the spell, heated their bodies in unexplainable ways.
"I've come to inform you," started Malfoy uneasily, "that your training is to begin soon." Hermione's mind screamed confusion, her frozen body displayed no such emotion.
"And what will I be training for?" she questioned, seemingly accepting her fate, whether that was true or not, Malfoy could not tell.
"Your powers," he said, "They're complex, and highly dangerous, to yourself, as much as others. If not trained they could pose serious risk to the plan, and even yourself." he explained.
Hermione nodded understandingly. Her stillness annoyed every inch of Malfoy's body but the tingly sensation that she left in his every tissue fought against his want to argue. He knew that if he got angry, the same reaction that had occurred to Hermione the night of the ceremony would happen to him, and that only she would be able to stop it with her touch. A deed Malfoy doubted Granger would do, as she probably wished nothing more than his death.
"Don't flatter yourself," Hermione answered almost as if she had read his thoughts. "I would worry about many other things before wishing your death, besides your death would be mine as well." Malfoy was left astounded for a few moments before he realized that she had practiced legimacy on him, the tingly feeling in his mind was not energy.
"I don't appreciate people poking around in my mind," he stated coldly.
"I don't appreciate anything about this situation, honestly" Hermione rebutted bluntly.
"Yes, because being married to you and having you be the mother of my children was on the top of my to do list." he scowled.
"Touche" Hermione answered. Malfoy was taken back, it was almost as if she had no want to fight with him. This worried him. Not because Hermione was obviously not acting herself, he could care less about that. But her powers worked solely on emotions, the stronger, the better. Hermione wasn't displaying any, controlling them to the last bit it was almost as if she had turned empathic.
Draco sighed, he'd have to report back to His Lord. For now, however, there was little he could do about Hermione's rejection of sentiments.
"Be ready at nine pm." He said, "There will be a trial tonight in the Ministry and the Dark Lord requests your presence. Dress nicely, I trust you have enough robes to choose from." Hermione's response was nothing but a nod, she felt cold air hit her body like a wave in the ocean. When she looked to the side, Malfoy was already gone.
Draco Malfoy climbed up the stairs with a determination he had not felt since his last mission. That had been over a year ago, now the Dark Lord wanted nothing more of him than to keep him safe for the throne. It was not that the dark side now possessed any sort of threat, but there had been rumors of certain rebellions about the country, Death Eaters that had now forgotten there place and wanted a bit more power than the hierarchy would allow them.
Draco knew these rebellions were pointless for as soon as his mission with Granger was complete, their power would be unstoppable and their children's power even more so. Tonight however, other things worried his mind, those things all revolved around Hermione Granger and how much emotion she would let out.
The great oak doors of the throne room seemed more ominous today then any other that Draco could remember. As a child he had been told that this room was not to be entered, for one day it would serve the purpose for which it was created. Today, he knew what purpose that was.
He had no need to knock, for just a few seconds after he arrived at the door, they swung open and the torches that lined the stone walls invited him in. He walked calmly towards the high throne that stood roughly two meters in the air. The high chair was occupied by a handsome young man with dark hair. The slightly smaller chair was left unoccupied, it's resident not having gained the throne yet.
Draco Malfoy bowed down for a few instants and then looked his master in the eyes. He proceeded to inform him of his troubles and of what was the state of the Queen-to-be. Tom Marvolo Riddle's eyes glistened dangerously as he heard the news. His eyebrows furrowed and the mood within the throne room seem to darken.
The hooded figures that stood around the room held their breaths in anticipation of what was to come. There was little doubt that the atmosphere was taking a wrong turn, and all hell would break lose soon. Riddle's reaction however was one that surprised everyone in the room.
"Make her fall in love with you," he said, his voice was so serene that chills rippled up Draco's arms. Malfoy's face showed confusion, it had never been part of the plan to make Granger fall in love with him, this turn of events was not at all what he had anticipated.
"I beg your pardon, My Lord?" Malfoy tempted.
"What part of make her fall in love with you, did you not understand, Malfoy?" The Dark Lord's voice had become a hasty whisper that was barely audible. "We need her emotions for this plan to work, if she refuses to show hate, then awaken her love!" Although he did not scream, Malfoy understood the direct order that came from his master.
"Yes, My Lord," he answered, a wave of nausea hitting him like something he had never felt before.
"Now listen here, Draco," Riddle's voice seemed strangely kind, "There is more news that I must tell you. Listen closely..."
Hermione stared at her choice of clothes, a simple black dress that was feminine enough to please whoever it was that had ordered her to look nice, but professional and solemn enough to be worn to a trial, especially one that Hermione was sure would reap of death.
She had taken a hot shower, like she did everyday since she had been released up here, the scalding water felt like it ripped away all the pain, worries and regret that she tended to bottle up all day. They had yet to supply her with her wand, as Hermione imagined that they did not trust her very much yet, but she was allowed to do certain wandless magic. She used this to her advantage in order to blow dry her unruly hair.
She had quietly slipped into her dress, and was now struggling to close the zipper on the back of it when she felt warm hands grab her close and the zipper shut tight.
"You look lovely," she felt a whisper near her ear, the energy surging through her veins at a rapid speed did not lie, she knew too well who was cosying up to her and it did not leave her the tiniest bit comfortable. Hermione pulled away from Draco's arms and slipped on her robe.
"Thank you," she said plainly, turning around and facing him for the first time in weeks. Malfoy was just as handsome as he had been back in school, although traces of the war and his age deepened and lined his face. His body, she could tell was in good shape, although the black turtle neck and jeans he wore hid most of his figure. He had his cloak draping over his right arm. Hermione remembered to breath suddenly. Malfoy took no notice.
"Hermione," the way in which he said her name, made it obvious that it sounded strange in his mouth. None the less he continued his speech, "I've been thinking," he said. "We're stuck with this...mission, whether either of us likes it or not. We're going to have to live in matrimony for the rest of our lives. We might as well be civil towards each other."
Hermione stared at his face, almost as if analyzing it for a second. What he was asking for, made sense in theory, but there was no reason for Malfoy to want to be civil towards her. He could just as easily ignore her through their entire marriage and there wouldn't be an issue. He was feeling uneasy, being under her stare for such a long time.
"You can't impregnate me without my permission, can you?" she said, a sudden light flickering on in her mind. Malfoy's eyes didn't lie, his utter surprise in how quickly she had figured it out was transparent.
"No," he said, "But my decision to be civil towards you is completely besides that one detail," he said, swallowing hard.
"Then what is the basis of your sudden change of heart?" Hermione retorted sarcastically.
"You need to channel more emotions in order for your powers to work. If having someone to confide in and to make you feel comfortable will help you with that, than I see no problem being that person," his voice was calm as he pronounced the words slowly as if trying to get her maximum attention. Hermione's shoulders slumped for a bit.
"I don't think you're lying," she uttered unwillingly out-loud. Malfoy let out a soundless chuckle.
"Aside from what you may believe, Hermione, I have no need to lie to you. So I won't. It would be pointless, I would gain nothing from it, and neither would you."
A strange feeling swept over Hermione, she had never met anyone whom she had felt so honest about everything. It left her uneasy and unable to figure out how to react to any of the new information given to her. Luckily, Malfoy sensed this and found it was time to leave the heart-to-heart conversations behind. Placing his cloak on he offered her, his arm to take. As Hermione took it, she felt herself being pulled away from the ground and whirling through different dimension on her way to her destination. She only felt her body again when her feet hit sharply on stone ground.