As usual, I still do not own Harry Potter or any of (Our Queen) J.K. Rowling's character's. I do have ownership of original plot lines and original characters.
Hermione had been strangely quiet and distracted for the past hour. She had hardly uttered three words to him since entering the Manor. Those three words were a weak 'sorry I'm late'. Usually, she would be rambling on about the law or Rose by now, but instead she was curled up in her chair trying to read a volume on law. He could tell she wasn't really reading because she hadn't flipped more than one page since the beginning of the hour. He had given up trying to figure out her strange mood and took the peace as a time to finish his thoughts on his upcoming breakup. He still didn't understand why Astoria was talking to Granger. The last time he saw them interact, Astoria was trying to fault their relationship in a show some kind of dominance. When did they get friendly? He remembered Hermione's pale complexion and amended his previous thought. When did Astoria get so friendly?
He looked over to see Hermione rub her forehead in exasperation. As she did this, he could see a hint of sadness behind her eyes. Why is she sad? he thought. He thought she was giving him the cold shoulder because of their date, which would be understandable, but it seemed to be more than that, which left Draco very confused.
Unwilling to let one of his few surviving relationships crumble, he got up and sat next to Hermione. She glance up at him for a second before continuing to scan the page. He sat in silence trying to come up with his words. Hermione, I know I was an arsehole on our date— no. Maybe: I'm sorry I screwed up our evening— no. I'm not going to marry Astoria and you were right— no. Ugh. Why is this so difficult?
"Why are you sad?" he ended up blurting out. The second the words left his mouth he knew he sounded like an ass. Mother lectures me on how to treat women my whole life, then Granger comes along and screws it all up.
She turned towards him, apprehension lacing her features, soon to be replaced with anger. "Why do you think?" she said gritting her teeth.
"I'm sorry I was such an arse last night," he began, but she cut him off.
"Why would you even ask me to tell you that you're right in not marrying Astoria if you were going to go right ahead and marry her?" she shouted, her knuckles turning white and her fingernails biting into the book she was holding.
This is an odd plot twist Draco thought. Where did she get the strange idea I'm going to marry—. His train of thought ended abruptly as realization dawned on him. That's what Hermione and Astoria were talking about! He laughed merrily at his next thought which only served to aggravate Hermione further. Hermione is jealous. Before he got hexed by the angry witch, he cleared the water. "I'm not going to marry Astoria. I just talked to her last night to make sure I was going to make the right decision. I'm planning on breaking up with her tonight."
Emotions played across Hermione's face like a flip book of pictures. Angry. Shocked. Embarrassed. Happy? Suspicious. Then, angry again. "Then, why does she think you're going to pop the question tonight?" she growled.
It was Draco's turn to look embarrassed. "Daphne came in before I could end it, and I ran out," he said sheepishly.
Hermione raised an eyebrow as if to question that he would actually run anywhere, then she must have concluded he was serious with a snort of laughter. "Wow, I wouldn't want to be you tonight," she smirked.
Draco was tempted to take the bait and continue with more light hearted conversation, but he knew that it would come back to bite him with Hermione. The woman remembered everything. "I really am sorry for being an arse to you last night. As much fun as it is to rile you up, I didn't mean to make you angry. I was just trying to feel a little bit better about being happy while I wasn't trying to get my daughter back."
Hermione's face softened. She looked at him with the gentlest doe eyes, then reached down to stroke the side of his face with more tenderness than Draco ever knew. He found himself closing his eyes and leaning into her divine touch against his will. "You are not a bad man, Draco," she whispered.
He remembered their shouting match last night and smiled when he realized that she finally answered him. When he opened his eyes, she was still staring at him with care, and then it struck him like a sack full of galleons: he wanted to kiss her. Her lips looked enticing, and he could swear they were just whispering for him to taste them. Not that he would because it was horribly inappropriate timing, but he would store that new feeling away for later thought. However, before he could tuck the feeling away fully, he thought he noticed a spark of desire light up her eyes. Being the considerate man that he was, he teased, "why Granger, you almost sound like you like me." He added a dramatic wink for flair.
That's all it took for Draco and Hermione to go back to their normal dynamic. They both locked away their new-found attraction and settled for their usual witty banter. After a few minutes of poking fun at each other, Hermione told Draco about her new discovery.
"So basically, we have to find some object- that could be anywhere- and destroy it, to then have the chance to break the curses binding the law?" he asked. She nodded. "Well that's absolutely ridiculous!" he ranted. "How do we even find the object? It could be anything! I swear they only wrote up these ridiculous laws to laugh at the poor souls tasked to break them."
Hermione laughed humorlessly. "That was the purpose. They tried to make them as unbreakable as possible," she said solemnly, then sighed. "But we have to figure this out. Which family sealed the law?"
"Can we cast an identifying spell on the actual law?"
"I don't think that would be a bright idea," Hermione warned.
"Why not? An identifying spell is harmless."
"Well, there are a lot of defenses around the law, and we have to figure out how to break them down first before we can cast on it. However, the first defense is tied to the object, so it's basically impossible."
Draco groaned. This law was taking forever. "Okay, let's go back and look at those old journals. Can you ask Potter, Longbottom, Weasley, and the Minister to try and find journals from the time also? I will ask the Slytherins."
"Okay." There was a brief moment of silence. "Draco?" Hermione asked wearily. He gave her a questioning look, but nodded for her to continue. "Should we start hiding away Rosie? As soon as your father gets word of this law he will not be happy."
Draco rubbed his face, showing his years of worry. "I don't think so. Not yet at least. I will tell all of the Slytherins that these journals for some of my personal research. They know I occasionally dabble in alchemy. I'll make sure it's believable."
"You research alchemy?" Hermione perked up.
"It's just a side project," he dismissed.
"To what? Sitting on your arse and becoming more rich?"
"I can't tell you."
"You make me even more intrigued." She smirked.
"You work for the Ministry."
"You do too."
"Ugh. Fine you unbearably annoying woman," he grumbled. "I collect artifacts of rather dark nature."
"Is that not the hobby of everyone in your family?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow quirked up.
"Haha," he droned. "No, I just like how usually Dark magic comes from good intentions and sometimes can be used for good."
The passion in his voice made Hermione grin involuntarily. "How did something like secumsepra comes from good intentions?" she teased
"Curiosity. If curiosity was evil, you would be darker than the Dark Lord."
"Good point. That's very interesting. I would like to have you tell me more sometime in the future."
"You're not going to lecture me on collecting quite illegal things?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Do you keep the artifacts out of the reach of those who could potentially harm themselves or others with them?"
"Of course!" he began heatedly.
"Then, I see no problem," she said simply.
Draco was amazed that Hermione was so relaxed about the information he just gave her, but with a bit more thought he understood. After all, who would be surprised by Ex-Deatheater Draco Malfoy collecting dark artifacts after he told her that he had a child at sixteen. The latter was much less believable, yet she was taking care of his daughter.
"Alright," Hermione groaned getting out of her cushy chair. "We can't do anything without those journals, so let's take the rest of the day off to collect them. I'll owl you if I don't have them by the end of the day, and we will continue tomorrow."
"Granger," Draco drawled. "I do have rather important plans tonight. How about I see you Wednesday unless someone is dying."
"Oh," she said, remembering his 'plans'. A devious smirk spread across her face. "I guess I wouldn't be seeing you on Wednesday. Unless that's when the funeral is."
Draco grimaced. "Don't remind me. If I don't make it tell the aurors it was all my fault." At that moment a thought flitted across Draco's brain. What if I did die? Who would have Rosalinda? The prospect that no one would be able to take care of his daughter scared Draco. Hermione. She would take care of her. Would she? "Granger," he choked out.
She turned around, confused at his tone. One second he was joking around and the next he looked like he was overcome by the spirit of Voldemort. "Yes?" she inquired carefully.
"If I really did die, would you take care of Rosalinda?"
"Are you asking me to be her godmother?" Hermione gasped faintly.
"Yes." Merlin, what has gotten into me? He thought. Asking Hermione Granger to be my daughter's godmother. Next, I'll be skipping through a field of flowers with the other bleeding-heart Gryffind—
She broke into a brilliant grin for a moment, then schooled her features into an almost-Slytherin smirk. "You do know that this grants me forever visiting rights?" He groaned, but she continued on with an evil glint in her eye. "I'll get to tell her all about how her father was basically glued to pug-nosed-Parkinson in school. Maybe even show her the secret passages around Hogwarts. And when she's sorted into Gryffindor I'll—"
"No," Draco commanded. "My daughter will not be a bloody Gryffindor. She'll be a Slytherin. A Ravenclaw at the least."
Draco's valiant attempt at stopping Hermione's ramblings were for naught as she continued as if he didn't even speak. "I'll show her the squashiest chairs in the tower. I'll make sure she treats the house elves right. Oh, and when she has her first boyfriend—"
"No boys!" Draco cried. "My daughter will not be dating any boys!"
Hermione merely snorted in acknowledgment and finished. "I will help her pick out the perfect Yule dress to blow him away. But, long story short, I accept," she added the last bit with true glee. "I don't want to say I hope Astoria kills you, but I will be happy to keep your daughter if any curses land you six feet under tonight."
All Draco could do was lay his head into the chair and grumble about what a horrible decision he just made all while Hermione was striding out of the door cackling with delight. However, as much as Draco was dreading his daughter being turned into a Gryffindor, he knew she was in good hands, and in the long run he made the right decision. That didn't mean that he was happy about it though.
Hermione Granger was stalling. She was running around Diagon Alley doing nonessential errands she had put off in the last few weeks just to stay away from the apartment, Ron was presumably leaving, as long as possible. She knew it wasn't very Gryffindor of her to avoid confrontation and take the easy way out, but she was blaming Draco for rubbing off on her and trying her hardest to ignore how lame her excuse was. As she was coming out of Flourish and Blotts with a new bottle of green ink, she heard a voice come from her left.
"Excuse me ma'am. Can I have a word?"
Hermione turned around and saw a very familiar woman. She was petite with sun-kissed skin, dirty blonde hair, and stunning sapphire eyes. Upon closer study, she realized it was the same woman from the alley last night. The woman's kind words came back to her, and she replied, "sure. Tea?"
The other woman nodded, and Hermione lead them to a quaint tea shop next to Twilfitt and Tatting's. They sat down at a table near the corner against the front window. Hermione usually would have really enjoyed getting her favorite spot if it wasn't for the woman's penetrating stares. She had a feeling that this talk wasn't going to be rainbows and sunshine.
"Where is my daughter?" the woman asked bluntly. Her glare penetrating, however it was clear that the woman was not angry but merely worried for her daughter.
"Who are you?" Hermione retaliated.
"Laura Morandi. Now, where is my daughter. I have seen you with her," Laura demanded, her steely gaze never wavering from Hermione.
"You are Rosalinda's mother?" Hermione asked softly.
"Yes. Now don't make me ask again. Where is my daughter?" the woman attempted to spit menacingly, but ended up sounding pathetic.
Hermione's heart melted for the woman, but she knew that revealing Rosalinda's location could be very dangerous if Laura was not her real mother. "First, you need to prove to me that you are indeed her mother and you will not harm her. I am not letting anything happen to Rose as long as I have anything to do with it," Hermione stated. Her resolve was impenetrable, and the woman knew that she would not move the war hero.
The woman sighed. "Her father is Draco Malfoy. He got me pregnant when he was sixteen. He also demanded that I name my baby Vela Rosalind. I still don't understand why I bent to his ridiculous demands after what he did. Probably because he seemed to genuinely want to look after my baby."
Hermione could not think of a single person who could possibly know that much information about Malfoy, so she decided that this distraught woman must be Rosalinda's mum. "She is in primary school right now, currently glamoured to look like my younger cousin."
Laura sagged with relief. "I'm glad to know she is safe. She disappeared, and when I saw her with you, I thought you might look too far into her life. You obviously have, which makes me wonder how you found out so much about my story," she asked speculatively.
"I work with Draco," Hermione stated. "I found your daughter in Diagon Alley with no parents, and I called the aurors. That day I was able to speak to Malfoy, and he admitted she was his daughter. The Minister and myself have since taken the necessary precautions to protect Rose from Lucius. Including changing her identity." After she finished her miniature report, Hermione finally asked the burning question she had for a while. "Why didn't you come and get her before?"
Laura looked at Hermione as if she was incompetent which greatly offended the brains of the Golden Trio. "If I went to the Ministry to pick her up, I would have been put in the British system—" Hermione thought the woman's accent sounded a bit off, and she recognized it now as a light Italian accent. She was surprised she didn't notice it before. "and that slim ball, Lucius Malfoy, is all too integrated into your little government. As soon as he saw that there was a woman picking up a little girl with obvious Malfoy blood, my daughter would have been good as dead."
"Your daughter is safe, and despite your worries," Hermione began with an air of condescension. She did not like it when people did not see her intelligence "if you had come the first night she was gone, they would not have filed a report given the special circumstances. However, now I cannot release her to you until the Minister deems it safe. If all of a sudden my charge disappears without the proper backstory, the Prophet will have a reporter to investigate, and that could only end badly."
"I need my daughter," Laura whispered venomously.
Hermione stared the other woman down, feeling very defensive. "Your daughter is my charge right now, and I will not let you put her into any danger."
Laura glared at Hermione. "When will she not be in danger? Your Ministry has a trunk full of ridiculous Pureblood laws that will put her in danger every second they're still there."
"I would rather you not insult my intelligence," Hermione ground out. "As I am in charge of breaking those laws."
The woman had the courtesy to look mildly embarrassed, but she recovered a moment later. "I demand to see my daughter."
Hermione took a calming breath. This woman is just worried about her child. You should be more sympathetic she thought to herself. However, she was not going to risk the life of a six year old on a mother's worries. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, but with resolve, "but it is my responsibility to protect your daughter, and having anyone connect the two of you too soon could put her in more danger than I will risk."
"She is my daughter," Laura seethed.
"I hoped that you could see past that and understand the bigger picture," Hermione sighed, suddenly very tired. She stood up, pulling out two galleons for the bill and set them on the table before continuing, "However, she is in my care now, and I will not stand for you putting her in danger. I will find you when she is no longer at risk." Hermione walked out of the restaurant leaving Rose's mother on the verge of tears. It broke Hermione's heart that she had to stand between a mother and her child, but knowing that her goddaughter was safe kept her from breaking down until she got to Andromeda's.
Narcissa Malfoy was striding down the cobblestone street in Diagon Alley. She was set to host a soon-to-be rather depressing supper, and she needed a new outfit for the occasion. She was a nearly to Twilfitt and Tatting's, her go-to boutique, when she saw something peculiar: Hermione Granger was arguing with another young woman in the neighboring tea parlor, and she was getting up to leave. The woman she was arguing with seemed to be on the verge of bawling, her golden hair covering her face, but when she swept her hair back, Narcissa saw her dazzling blue eyes rimmed red with unshed tears.
Narcissa kept an undetectable distance away from the scene that no one else seemed to notice and memorized the other woman's face. Hermione Granger was feisty, but never one to be cruel. So, whatever made the Golden Girl leave another obviously distressed piqued the interest of Narcissa. She wondered if this woman had anything to do with Miss Granger's tardiness this morning. However, not one to waste precious shopping time, Narcissa continued to the dress shop, filing her observations away for her nightly chat with her husband. She had a feeling life was about to get infinitely more interesting.
"Goodnight, Rose," Hermione whispered, tucking the little girl into her bed. Rosie was sleeping like an angel: her lips pouted, hair wild and glowing white in the darkness, and her soft sighs like wind chimes in the breeze. Hermione stared at her sleeping form for another minute before easing out of Rosalinda's room. Shutting the door quietly, Hermione glanced around her barren apartment. I never noticed how much of this was Ron's she mused to herself.
Ron fully moved out that day, as requested, and Hermione felt nearly empty. He was such a big part of her life for so long, she didn't know what to do with herself. At the moment all she wanted to do was curl up and watch a muggle film with Ron and tell him all about Laura, but that was no longer an option. Rosalinda was her only constant. Maybe that was why Hermione felt so hostile towards Laura. The woman's appearance shook Hermione. Not only did she realize that her time with Rosie was temporary, no matter her jokes with Draco, but also that Rosie was not her's. She belonged to another woman no matter how much Hermione adored her, and that broke her heart because at the moment, Hermione would give anything to be Rosie's mom.
Yawning either from sleepiness or emotional exhaustion, Hermione settled back to her room. At least I still have my bed she thought before drifting into a fitful slumber.
"I don't think we will be good for each other."
Astoria burst into a fountain of tears.
/Thank you all for reading. As usual, review with comments and critiques. I love hearing them all. Also, if any of you are going to Geekycon this weekend I would love to meet you. Have a fabulous week!./
