Out of Hand II: A Matter of Time by relativelypositive

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related and I make no money from the use of the characters created by J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 12

"Hermione?"

When Draco awoke, he looked immediately to his left to check on his fiancée. Her bed was neatly made. He looked over to where the homicidal chaperone was being held, and her bed was also neatly made.

"Blaise?"

No sign of his friend.

"Madam Pomfrey? Anyone?"

He hopped out of bed and made his way to the little office, where the old medi-witch was gently snoring, a mug of tea steaming at her elbow and a book in her hands.

We have been keeping her busy.

Draco left the wing feeling disoriented. He had no idea what time it was, or where Hermione had gone, or if he was supposed to be somewhere.

He took the opportunity to go the Prefects' Bath and take a long, hot soak.

He was getting married today! Well, he already considered himself married. Hermione was already wearing his ring. She was naming their children. She was fighting with his mother.

She was family.

Draco sat and soaked and thought. His mother had made it clear that he was still expected to take over the Malfoy interests. But he'd tasted freedom! He had to find a way to tell her that he was going his own way.

At the first opportunity, he was going to owl Mr. Ollivander and see if he could apprentice at his shop. His name wasn't completely in ruins, and his marriage to Hermione could only help matters. The old wizard should jump at the chance to take him on.

And he wouldn't have to be paid! He had squirreled away enough money for he and Hermione to live on for years when they had visited the vault last week. Ollivander couldn't pass up that deal, right?

Maybe he should talk to Hermione about her apprenticeship, as well. Get the ball rolling so she had a better chance of being in Diagon Alley as well. With apparation it didn't really matter, but it was a comfort thing. He wanted to know where his wife was.

He kind of wanted to know where she was right now.

When he'd gone to sleep she'd been with her mother. Was he correct in assuming she was still with her, preparing for the wedding? Where would she be? Gryffindor Tower?

Still high on pain potions?

Draco dried off and redressed quickly. He now had some goals and vague ideas about how to reach them.

He almost decided to go to Slytherin first, but was glad he didn't when his route to Gryffindor Tower took him past the Great Hall.

His mother was there, slinging her magic into every corner.

"What are you doing, Mother?"

"Decorating. If I have to attend this ceremony it is going to at least be pretty."

"Mother," Draco implored.

She stopped and turned to face him with an annoyed look on her face.

"You're wearing that?"

The longer she looked at Draco, the softer her face became. Not to say that she softened, but she was no longer so rigid she could snap.

"All your life I've had elaborate fantasies of your wedding day. It was going to be a triumph of fantasy and taste. You were going to marry the heiress to an Italian or French aristocrat's fortune. She was going to be…." She stopped and stepped closer to Draco. "I just can't help feeling your Hermione is lacking. Even though she is a pretty little girl..."

"She's beautiful," Draco couldn't help interrupting.

His mother gave him an impatient look. "But she's plain. You say she's intelligent, but how does she apply this intelligence? She uses it to pick fights and belittle our traditions."

"She loves learning about Wizarding culture!" Draco protested.

"But does she live it? Does she incorporate any of our traditions into her little world?"

"Some. And she'll adopt more the longer she lives here. As far as picking fights goes? From what I've seen, you seem to be the one picking the fights. Courtship Mandates, Mother? Why not just drag the rest of society through hell with us!"

"While I'll admit my first motive was to keep a buffer between you and your fiancée, I also believe that the Mandates have merit. In case you haven't noticed, marriage is permanent. Too many couples are forced into engagements because of bad behavior."

"You mean too many pureblood witches and wizards are getting engaged to half-bloods and muggleborns."

"You're being too simplistic. The Mandates aren't punishment, they're protection. For everyone. That reminds me! Blaise was bonded to his chaperone an hour or so ago. He gave me a look that was meant to incinerate my head. Please let him know I said that look needs work."

"Mother," Draco gestured to a table covered in gold taffeta, "please sit down so we can have a conversation instead of just accusing each other of being contrary."

She stiffly sat on the edge of her seat. "Fine. What is it you'd like to discuss?"

Draco studied his mother. In the last few years he'd seen her sparingly, and she suddenly seemed older. More frail, even though she was not yet forty.

He was struck with the urge to hug her. He knew she'd be shocked and probably appalled at his lack of control and show of emotion, but the urge was there nonetheless.

"If you had to pick one non-negotiable thing about my future, what would it be?"

"Your wedding must to be proper, even if your witch isn't."

"That was unnecessarily mean and snarky."

"Maybe it was, but I am finding it impossible to come to terms with the reality that is Miss Granger."

"You don't know her."

"And you do?"

"Better and better each day. Did you know that the chaperone that was sent for Hermione is an assassin?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I picked her out myself."

Draco felt like an ice pick had been driven down his spine. "You picked Hermione's chaperone? Tilda the homicidal bitch?"

"Who's Tilda? I picked a strict matron named Petunia. She was almost 130 years old and had the aura of prison guard. I quite liked her. I should invite her to the wedding."

"Mother, have you seen or talked to Father since he was arrested?"

"We speak or owl every day. We are devoted."

"Could he have set Tilda on Hermione?"

"I wouldn't put it past him. But how could he orchestrate such a thing from captivity? He'd have to have someone else do his bidding. As far as I know, no one else has been in contact with him. Really, I don't believe it was your father."

"Would you tell me if it were?"

She took a moment to mull before she spoke. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. A few weeks ago I would tell you. You were trustworthy."

"You don't trust me anymore?"

"I think you are unduly influenced."

"Hermione is very opinionated. And idealistic. And naïve. She is influencing me. I think it's important that we influence each other. If we're going to be married for the next 100 years or so there has to be compromise."

"Is she doing any compromising?"

"She's marrying me today. She is going to have children much earlier than she'd like. She isn't going to live in Muggle London."

"The Manor will be ready for her arrival the week before the wedding."

"Oh. Ummm. Huh. Well, thank you for being accommodating. However, we are going to live in the London townhouse."

"Was that her idea?"

"It was a compromise. She wanted to be close enough to visit her parents without apparating and I wanted to live in the Wizarding world. That townhouse sits empty unless you're shopping in London. Even then, you usually just apparate to the Manor."

"Well, I suppose that's…fair. It's not like I'll never see you. Your study at the Manor is being redecorated as a marriage gift. Surprise. You'll be able to look after our interests from there."

Draco blushed.

"What did I say? Why are you flushing?"

"I'm not going into the family business, either. It's not what I want to do with my life."

"There is no one else to do it, Draco. I hate to say it, but I believe your father will be in Azkaban for some time. I am counting on you to do the right thing."

"The right thing? You know our business dealings are infested with corruption, deals, and Death Eaters. I have to sever all ties with those things if my marriage is going to work!"

"You can do both!"

"How?"

"I don't know!"

"I'm going…" Draco lost his momentum, but forced himself to tell her. "I'm going to be a wandmaker. I'm going to collect my materials, craft wands, and match them with new owners. It fascinates me. It's what I want to be."

His mother's expression was too expressionless. She got up and went back to her decorating.

"Mother?"

She ignored him.

"I'm sorry. But I think I have a solution," he offered.

"What? Pay someone to make sure the family doesn't go broke?"

"I think you should do it."

Draco's mother dropped her wand mid-spell and accidentally turned Draco's robes into gold taffeta. She recovered quickly and returned to her work.

"That would be inappropriate."

"How so?"

"I am a Malfoy wife. I have my responsibilities."

"These could be your new responsibilities. You know you'd succeed."

"Of course I would. That is not in question."

"Then why won't you take control of the Malfoy interests? You may be fighting it, but there are now two Mrs. Malfoys. Hermione certainly isn't going to be a society wife. Why can't you take the initiative and the power that comes with being the one in charge? You'd thrive. And so would the Malfoy name."

Draco could see her giving it serious thought. When the clock chimed she startled, then started pelting spells faster around the room.

"We only have an hour!"

"The ceremony is in an hour? What can I do to help?"

"Are you prepared?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Are you wearing that?"

Draco looked down at the gold taffeta she'd spelled his robes into.

He could feel himself blushing again. "No. I'll change."

"See that you do," she called after him. In a much smaller voice she added, "Just not too much."

A/N:

julietrose21, KodeV, ASJS, hoshiakari7, and Chester99, thank you so much for reviewing!