AN: I apologise in advance for my Italian...but i'm sure you'll survive n stuff n things n yeah. love love love your reviews. thanx! *kisses*
Chapter 9 - Headway
"I still don't understand why we're here. We didn't need to travel to Rome to stay in bed. We could have done that at home." Hermione harrumphed loudly, flouncing into a bistro chair on their terrace.
Truth be told, the view was to bloody die for, but she was restless. They had spent the first week of their honeymoon in Switzerland as she'd always wanted to see those particular snowy peaks. The second week they had spent in France, which was almost expected of them. Their third and final week landed them in Rome.
She wanted to wander the cobblestone streets and visit museums yet every time she brought up the very idea, Draco would cajole her back into bed. Not that she was complaining really, it was quite enjoyable.
"Potter would be sending us bloody owls, my mother would be popping in unexpectedly, Blaise would Floo us to tell us all about Luna's convoluted theories on Wackyspurts or whatever the fuck they're called. In order for me to properly shag my wife senseless, I simply had to take her out of the country." Hermione laughed, watching the sunset behind the historic buildings.
Draco wasn't wrong. In fact, he was more than accurate with his assumptions. She pulled the white sheet tighter around her and glanced over her shoulder. Draco was balancing a silver tray in his hands laden with enough food for the Weasleys, but that wasn't what drew her eye. It was the thin silvery scars across his chest. He wouldn't let her touch them anymore than she would allow him to touch hers. It was an impasse which made Hermione feel a touch of melancholy. She bit her bottom lip, taking in the way his silk, navy blue lounge pants sat just so on his hips, enticing her, as he placed the tray on the side table.
"Actually, we have quite a day tomorrow. I quite honestly didn't know what you'd prefer. I brought a little of everything." He watched her every move as she made her selections.
"You're staring."
"No, I'm studying. I'd like to know what you prefer. Though, you'd think this being Italy the macaroni and cheese would be better." Draco rolled his eyes, poking the bowl of gelatinous muck with his finger.
"Malfoy, it's a wizarding hotel. We'll find a lovely Muggle Italian bistro tomorrow. Where are we going?" Hermione half filled a bowl with Greek yoghurt, topping it with a variety of fresh fruit and granola. She licked the spoon with a wink.
"You keep looking at me like that and we're not going anywhere." He growled then, waving his fork in her direction. He really was quite insatiable as far as his wife was concerned, not that it troubled her in the least.
"I'll behave, for now. Tell me then."
"Actually we've an appointment. We'll have brunch along the way, perhaps I can even persuade you to do a bit of shopping. Once we're there, I'm not going to have sex for the rest of our honeymoon and I've resigned myself to that most unpleasant fact." Draco pouted, snatching some sort of melted yet crispy sandwich from the tray. "Sweet Merlin, what is this? It's delightful." He moaned as the meat and cheese melded together in his mouth.
"It's just a Panini, Draco. It's a fried sandwich basically. We can make them at home. I'll teach you. If you plan on having sex with your wife tonight, you'll bloody tell me."
"No, I don't think I will. I'm well aware of your dislike of surprises. I suppose I'll have to have the Panini's keep me company since my wife is spurring my affections." He sunk his teeth into the crusty bread, moaning loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes, yet at the same time, she was thankful he had better table manners than Ron.
Despite her earlier protests, Draco Malfoy did manage to bed his wife, numerous times throughout the night. He woke quite chipper, hurrying his wife to ready for the day. Hermione on the other hand was irritated.
Draco kept vetoing her ensembles. Sundresses were too revealing considering it wasn't summer. Muggle jeans weren't proper attire for Malfoy women on holiday. Just when she was ready to hex him in the bollocks regardless of how it would be detrimental to her, he emerged from the wardrobe in their hotel suite with a smile.
"Here. Don't argue, Mrs. Malfoy." He sauntered into the loo, leaving her alone with his choice.
Hermione grumbled yet inwardly cursed. It was perfect; of course it was bloody perfect. Merlin forbid Draco Malfoy was ever bloody wrong about anything. With a huff, Hermione thrust her toned legs into the grey pinstriped slacks and pulled the cream cowl necked sweater over her head. She situated her hair into a messy sort of bun on top of her head to show off the earrings Draco had purchased her.
He was quite put out there didn't happen to be a matching pair of earrings in his vault which matched her engagement ring, bracelet and pendant. Draco being the wizard he was, commissioned a jeweler to rectify the situation for an exorbitant amount of money. Hermione would have been furious, but in the end, their beauty won her over. She slipped the dangling sapphire and diamond earrings in and smiled as they swayed.
"You're fucking beautiful." Draco had donned his customary black slacks, pairing it with a cerulean dress shirt which brought out the flecks of blue in his grey eyes.
He kissed her then. Not because he wanted another tumble in the sheets, which he absolutely did. Not because she was expecting it, which she wasn't. Simply because he was overcome and couldn't resist her; which made it that much more special. However, before he allowed himself to get carried away, which was his favourite pastime during the last few weeks, he broke away and led her to the door.
"Did you see that quaint little bookstore?" Hermione pulled against his hand as they wandered in the streets after a leisurely brunch.
"Of course I did, hence why we're still moving. You always promise we'll only stop for a minute and the day is over. We're not missing our appointment. You'll thank me later, promise." Draco pulled her into his side. It wasn't simply to stop her from visiting yet another bookstore. He detested the way the Italian Muggle men ogled his wife. He was a Malfoy, which made him a jealous and possessive man. If he needed to jinx the men to keep them away from his wife, well that was exactly what he was going to do. As long as his wife didn't catch him.
"That's Vatican City." Hermione stumbled which had nothing to do with her red wedges, she was in awe to be standing before so much history.
"Yes, you're very astute. Come on then." Draco smirked, slowing his gait in order to allow Hermione to gape open mouthed at the sights.
When he nonchalantly stopped before an impressive building, he thought she was going to faint.
"This is the...the..Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana." She breathed, her free hand over her heart.
Draco led her up the stone steps, allowing her a moment to compose herself in the alcove. She was squeezing his hand so tightly he wondered if she was fracturing the bones.
"Baby, no, over here." Hermione had started for the impressive entrance, her eyes shining with delight.
She frowned yet followed him to a door hidden near a ridiculously large topiary. Draco rapped the plain wooden door three times quickly, then again slower. A small, weathered wizard with the longest white hair she'd ever seen, baring Dumbledore, stood patiently on the other side.
"Name." His gravelly voice was quite a shock, yet his no nonsense attitude, reminded her of Severus Snape.
"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. We have an appointment."
"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy. This way please." Hermione had quite frankly expected the wizard to speak Italian, his British accent causing mild surprise.
She stepped through the door with Draco's hand on the small of her back which gave her a bit of comfort. They followed the small wizard in his flowing blood red robes down ornate passageways, obviously hidden from prying eyes in the Vatican Library.
"Be seated. He will be with you momentarily." The wizard gestured toward red and gold brocade armchairs before a gold fireplace.
Draco led her toward the chairs, forcing her to sit in one before taking the other for himself. He ignored her glare of frustration, knowing she would remain silent. Wordlessly he reached into his back pocket and flicked his wand. Hermione was quite surprised to see her leather messenger bag lying across Draco's knees, yet she grit her teeth with determination. She wanted to ask Draco a million questions yet she knew, from the half smirk and raised eyebrows, he wasn't going to reveal anything.
"Scusi please. You come." A lanky, ebony haired wizard smiled at them, gesturing wildly for them to follow him through yet another nondescript door.
Draco shrugged and offered his hand to Hermione. She scoffed yet gripped it gratefully as they were lead through another maze of passageways.
"Go. Go now." The lanky wizard bowed with an overly bright smile as they came to the end of a long corridor. He pushed open the tall white door, waiting until they ventured forward before shutting it.
Hermione blinked, adjusting to the blinding white walls. Everywhere she looked, it was white. A blinding white which made her head begin to ache. She closed her eyes, breathing through her nose, willing herself to adjust quickly.
"Come. Sit." She hadn't heard anyone enter, yet perhaps he had been there all along.
She cracked open an eye and found herself staring into eyes black as pitch. She took a step forward then another before sinking into the white armchair. Draco pressed her messenger bag into her hands and smiled at the older wizard. Hermione observed Draco incline his head toward the wizard and receive the same in return. During their silent exchange she studied him. He wasn't old, yet he wasn't necessarily young. It really was hard to pinpoint such things considering how long wizards lived in comparison to Muggles. His robes were the same blinding white as the walls, the floor, the chairs and the table. She wondered how he didn't find himself constantly stumbling. She wondered if he had his hair magically removed as there wasn't even a hint of new growth on his shiny head.
"I am Yuri." Hermione toyed with the name, her lips moving without sound, waiting for him to expand on such a statement.
His dark eyes rolled and he snorted when Hermione's gaze remained decidedly blank. He gestured toward Draco, his fingers curled and wrinkled.
"Love, this is Yuri Blishen." Hermione's mouth dropped open not half a minute after hearing the words.
"Show then."
"Y-you wrote Advanced Rune Translation." Hermione gasped, hugging her messenger bag.
"Hmph. You say...she...bright, yet...she say...hmm...she like..."
"She has a tendency to state the obvious. Yes, I'm aware." Draco sighed. He crossed his foot over his knee, waiting for Hermione's shock to dissipate. The silence grew and he knew Yuri was becoming exasperated.
"Granger. He's a very busy man you realise. I had to call in a lot of favours to receive this appointment. It's not as if Yuri Blishen was just going to allow us to knock on his door. I thought perhaps, you'd enjoy speaking with him." Hermione blinked rapidly and began to nod. Her trembling fingers reached into her messenger bag and she withdrew a small stack of parchment covered in runes and possible translations.
"Ah yes, I see now." Yuri held out his hand expectantly and Hermione didn't waste a moment placing the papers in his outstretched hand.
"I've been working with the British Ministry on a series of murders. The bodies are mutilated post mortem with runes. I've been trying to find a connection between the victims but I haven't been able to.."
"New eyes. Yes. This good here, this one? No." Draco smiled as he watched Yuri Blishen, author of Ancient Rune Translation and Hermione Malfoy née Granger pore over runes.
"I thought that meant.."
"No. Is wrong."
"But in your book, I distinctly remember you saying.."
"No."
"What do you mean no?!"
"Hmm. Rune like tree. Tree strong. Tree good. Tree big roots. Storm come. Tree no move, tree die. Tree rip from dirt. No more tree." Yuri scratched out Hermione's translations with short swipes of his quill, correcting them as easily as breathing.
"So, you're saying...runes change. They have to change like a tree has to bend otherwise they'd become obsolete?"
"Yes. Come. Look." Yuri's crooked fingers drew invisible lines between runes, nodding and smiling as Hermione continued the journey with her own forefinger.
"I see. By itself, this particular rune means..
"Yes." Draco was very surprised Hermione's face wasn't as red as a Weasley. She detested being interrupted yet she took it in stride.
"When it's next to this one it means.."
"Yes. Molto buona. Very good. She good." Yuri grunted at Draco, attempting to draw him into their stilted conversation.
"Merlin, Malfoy, I've been looking at this all wrong. Marietta only had the one rune and it was carved into her forehead. I should have paid attention to that. I used an old translation when trying to decipher it because I'd never seen that particular one before."
"You've done it then?"
"It wasn't just one rune. That's why I had so much difficulty. It was multiple runes embedded on top of each other. Mr. Blishen showed me a special bit of magic to separate them."
"Granger..."
"Malfoy. Whoever murdered Marietta Edgecombe knew."
"Knew what, love? You're being incredibly cryptic..."
"They carved 'traitor' into her forehead, Malfoy." Draco leapt from the armchair, hurrying toward the white table covered in parchment.
"Is it common knowledge then? What she did, I mean. If it's not, our list of suspects has shrunk considerably."
"I-I don't know quite honestly, I mean, everyone in the DA knew the parchment was charmed. They...we knew she betrayed us, yet there's no telling how many others were told after the fact." Hermione shuddered, chewing the end of her quill.
"What of the others? Have you made headway with them?"
"Corner's rune wasn't an issue. It doesn't necessarily make sense, but I didn't know him particularly well. His simply said 'creep'. I suppose I should really speak with Ginny about it. She dated him for a short time during Hogwarts. Krum and Wood well..." Hermione sighed, struggling with her inability to decipher the cryptic message.
"No. Is...no finish. Is uhm, how you say...mancante.." Yuri shook his hands in frustration at their collective confusion. "Incompleto."
"The message is incomplete?" Draco sucked the air through his teeth.
"Si. No finish."
"Malfoy.."
"Yes love, I know. We have to go home, there's going to be more."
"No. I mean, well yes of course, but, if we take Corner out of the equation..." Hermione chewed the end of her quill, while she tucked an errant curl behind her ear.
"Why would we do that?" Draco paced the white room, trying to make sense of Hermione's thinking patterns.
"Just bear with me, Malfoy. Edgecombe, Krum and Wood. What did they have in common?"
"Hogwarts, well not really. Krum went to Durmstrang but he did come to Hogwarts during the Triwizard..." Hermione tapped her foot against the white tile impatiently.
Yuri reclined in his white brocade armchair, sipping a cappuccino while observing the couple. They really were well suited to each other. The girl with the intellect and the angry man.
"Malfoy. Ugh."
"Well, why don't you tell me then? You do know everything after all."
"Rude."
"It's obvious I haven't the foggiest what you're going on about."
"Marietta Edgecombe was a member of DA. Therefore she had considerable contact with all the members. Viktor Krum was a celebrated Quidditch player who had considerable contact with Harry Potter and me. Oliver Wood was Captain of the Quidditch team therefore he..."
"So they all knew Potter. Do you think he's being targeted? Just what we need. The Golden Boy of Immortality being targeted by some deranged murderer. Fantastic."
"Her too." Yuri interjected, nibbling the corner of a lemon biscuit.
"What about her?" Draco was immediately on the defence, his grey eyes narrowing in contemplation.
"I-I jinxed Marietta. I dated Viktor a bit, during fourth year and..." Hermione swallowed, watching the tick in her husband's cheek leap in silent rage.
"Wood as well then?" His voice was quiet, soothing almost, yet the feral possessiveness hung just beneath the surface.
"It was one time. One date. We went to dinner, I allowed him to walk me home. He..He...pushed the boundaries and well I.."
"What. What did you do Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione cringed and closed her eyes.
"I bloody hexed him, alright? Are you happy now? I sent a swarm of canaries at his head and engorged his...his man bits and covered him in boils. Never spoke to him again."
"Wow, Granger, remind me never to get on your bad side. His man bits though? Seriously?" Draco crossed the room quickly and hugged her. She wasn't expecting such a reaction yet found herself melting into him. The smell of fresh linens and masculine spice filling her senses. Despite the tension and the implications, Hermione was giggling into his chest.
"Thank you. I still hate surprises but.."
"You're welcome." Draco cut her off, completely unwilling to subject himself to yet another Hermione Gra-Malfoy monologue.
"Is good. Is...how you say...tu l'ami" [you love her] Hermione frowned, suddenly hating her inability to communicate.
" Naturalmente io amo lei, uhm é impossibile non. Per favore non dirle." [Of course I love her, it is impossible not to. Please don't tell her.] Yuri nodded curtly, his frighteningly dark eyes roving the petite witch in Draco's arms.
"Dille presto." [Tell her soon] Yuri stood with a surprising quickness and rounded the oblong white table. He embraced Hermione, kissing each of her cheeks and shook Draco's hand. "Ciao." And they were once again alone.
"I didn't know you spoke Italian." Hermione had been unusually quiet during their leisurely walk through the Vatican Library and Vatican City.
Draco hadn't wanted to probe knowing she was contemplating every speck of information provided by Yuri Blishen. He had learned from years of working with the potentially volatile witch she detested interruption, especially when she was on the cusp of discovery.
"You can't spend years in the Slytherin common room with Blaise Zabini and not pick up a bit of Italian." He shrugged.
It was partially true. When Blaise Zabini's temper got the best of him, which was more often than not, he segued into angry Italian. Draco Malfoy of course had learned the language in order to converse in the midst of the Slytherin common room without having to fret about the wayward eavesdropper.
"What did you..."
"Granger, we've got to hurry. I arranged a portkey to leave within the hour and we've still got to pack." Draco cut her off, knowing exactly what she was going to ask.
"Was it related to the case?" They hurried to their suite, their wands swishing and flicking as their belongings floated from their various locations into their luggage.
"It was personal."
"You expect me to believe you have a personal relationship with Yuri Blishen?" Hermione stamped her foot, irritated with her husband's blasé attitude.
"Granger, I spent many a summer with Blaise at his mother's villa. Of course I know Yuri. I grew up around many witches and wizards of influence, not only in Great Britain but in France and Italy as well. Who do you think I bloody owled whenever you were traipsing around the world with Bill? Can't we discuss this at home?" Draco slammed his luggage shut and closed his eyes.
He didn't want to argue with her. He didn't want to feel as angry as he did. It wasn't a sin for him to love his wife, he knew this, yet as much as he knew she cared for him, he couldn't help but wonder how much was out of an obligation to a wizard long dead.
"Fine." Hermione whisked into the washroom mumbling under her breath.
When she returned carrying an armload of toiletries, he noticed the purple circles under her eyes, the slouch of her shoulders.
"What was that, love?"
"I said my name is not Granger, not anymore. If you're so bloody averse to using my name, then find something else." She was right he realised. He'd never once called her Hermione, or Mione or even the ridiculous nickname Astoria clung to.
"I've...I've always called you Granger. It would be strange to call you anything else. You're Granger. My Granger. You must admit Hermione is a bit of a mouthful. What were your parents thinking?"
"As if you're one to talk with a name like Draco? Ugh. You're impossible." He felt that tingling in his chest again, the one which only bubbled forth when she spoke his name. He wondered if that's what it would feel like for her, if he called her Hermione.
"Hermione." She shuddered and shook her head.
"You're absolutely right. It's horrid. It's not that I don't like my name, it simply sounds completely wrong coming from your lips." Draco smirked as he walked slowly towards her, closing the space between them easily.
"Granger. Baby. My NeeNee, no you." She laughed then, her eyes bright with amusement until his lips crashed to hers, swallowing the sound.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, his dark hair refusing to lie on his head, his arm high in the air waving erractically.
"We're here, Harry!" Hermione pushed through the throng of wizards in the Ministry atrium to reach her friend.
"Can't believe you missed your portkey. I thought Kingsley was going to have a bloody coronary." Harry laughed, swinging his friend in circles, ignoring the glares.
"Blame Malfoy." Hermione blushed and Harry found himself shivering in revulsion at the very idea of his Hermione naked with Draco Malfoy.
"Oi. Potter. It was our honeymoon. Can't blame a bloke for that." While Harry had always suspected there was a hidden attraction between the two, he never envisioned them marrying, despite Hermione's debt to Dumbledore; nor had he considered the idea of them actually being happy together.
"Please. Stop. I don't wish to have the image of my best mate shagging you, Malfoy." Harry faux gagged, causing a smattering of witches to scatter.
They ventured toward the lift, hanging tight as it zoomed through its horizontal and vertical madness until they found themselves in the Minister for Magic's office. They poured over parchment and photographs analyzing every speck of evidence, trying to narrow the broad spectrum of suspects into a manageable number.
"This is impossible." Draco groaned, rubbing his forehead vigorously.
"I don't understand a bloody thing she's saying, so do I still need to be here?" Harry was reclining on Kingsley's green sofa with his head propped on the arm lazily.
"You're a tosser, Potter."
"You're still a git, Malfoy."
"Would you two bloody grow up?!" Hermione threw the tome she had been studying across the room, not even flinching as it smashed into the wall.
The air crackled with her magic making her hair frizz out from her head, dislodging her hasty bun. Kingsley snickered. All the years he had known and been fond of Hermione Granger, her explosive temper never ceased to amaze him.
"Perhaps if you started at the beginning, Mrs. Malfoy." Kingsley's dark brown eyes twinkled over his tea cup of firewhisky.
"Kingsley, don't you dare go formal on me now. You might be the Minister but you're not above a good hex." Hermione paced the room angrily, her wand gripped tightly.
"Hermione, start at the beginning. We're all well aware that your brain never sleeps. I'm simply asking you to think aloud so we may all make a bit of sense of this madness."
"Perhaps over a spot of tea then." Hermione twisted her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck while nodding intently.
"I'll have whatever the Minister is having." Harry wiggled his eyebrows knowingly. Kingsley rolled his eyes, yet opened the bottom drawer of his mahogany desk to withdraw the bottle of firewhisky.
"There are four bodies. Based on the reports from Patil, Edgecombe died first, followed by Corner. Corner was discovered first due to his post-mortem location. We never would have found Edgecombe if her mother hadn't informed us she'd taken a Muggle holiday."
"Wood and Krum were discovered on the same day on Hogwarts grounds no less. Patil's report said..." Draco flipped through the folder impatiently.
"They were killed within hours of each other." Hermione concluded succinctly. Draco wanted to be irritated with her, but found he couldn't. She really was a bloody know-it-all.
"Yes, yes we know all that. What about the runes then? Any headway?" Harry sipped from a chipped tea cup, wiggling in delight at the burn sliding down his throat in the most delicious of ways.
"Yuri Blishen says the runes aren't complete, which Malfoy and I took to mean this...this...serial killer for lack of a better term isn't finished yet."
"Oh how is old Yuri? Strangest thing I've ever seen. Bald headed little wizard with terrifying black eyes, Russian no less with the thickest bloody Italian accent."
"Ugh. Does everyone know him? He's fine! Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Draco snorted. Hermione really was quite lovely when she was furious. Only she would have the gall to reprimand the Minister for Magic with her hands on her hips, no less.
"I might be a bit pissed, but I am still the Minister, Mrs. Malfoy." Kingsley attempted to smirk, but it came out looking as if he were pained which sent Harry into a fit of the giggles.
"As I was saying! Harry, pay attention. What did Edgecombe, Corner, Wood and Krum have in common?"
"That's easy!" Harry smiled broadly, quite proud of himself. "Me. Well, you too for that matter. Well...fuck."
"Precisely."
"You knew she dated Wood?" Draco turned on Harry, snarling with a projected disgust.
"Oi! It was before she married you. It was just the one date. She fixed him right good, complete tosser."
"Harry, stop talking." Hermione's face paled considerably.
"Remember when you jinxed that parchment for the DA? I thought it was brilliant. I'm sure Marietta didn't but then again she shouldn't have...well, fuck." Harry slapped himself in the forehead and groaned.
"Edgecombe and Corner only had one rune. Wood and Krum have...er had considerably more. Did you translate them yet?" Kingsley broke through the tension by pouring himself another tea cup of firewhisky and holding the bottle just out of Harry's reach.
"Actually yes. Edgecombe's rune says 'traitor'. Corner's says 'creep' which he was a bit of a creep, just ask Ginny." Hermione laughed, clamping her hand over her mouth.
"Yuri showed her how to separate the runes. They're interlaid. Wood's runes are a bit intricate but they're not a complete thought."
"Who cares? Tell us then!" Harry waved his wand, accidentally setting off a few red sparks which set Kingsley's discarded cloak on fire.
"In my torment. It's not exactly right, the first word is giving me a bit of trouble and well.."
"Let me see, love." Draco snatched the parchment from between her fingers, perusing it with drawn brows.
"Through. It's through my torment. Look," Draco flicked his wand, filling the air with twinkling golden runes. "They were interlaid as well, you see?"
"I dislike you." Hermione pouted before flouncing onto the green sofa beside Harry. He propped his feet onto her lap with a crooked smile, offering her his tea cup.
"Krum's say 'you shall see'. I suppose if we put it together it's Traitor, creep, through my torment you shall see. Doesn't make a bit of sense unless..."
"You remove Edgecombe and Corner from the scenario." Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands.
"Cheer up Hermione. Have a bit of firewhisky. It makes everything better."
"Harry, you're impossible. I don't want any firewhisky, frankly it smells terrible. We're no closer to narrowing the suspects. I'm not an Auror. This is not my job! I'm bloody exhausted and I want to go home." Hermione threw Harry's legs onto the floor, and shoved her stack of papers into her messenger bag.
"Granger, are you alright? You look a bit flushed." Draco took in the pink hue decorating her cheeks, the exhaustion was blatantly written on her face and he was quite concerned with her well being.
"I'm just..I'm so tired, Malfoy." She rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the lingering tiredness she couldn't quite quell.
She felt the tears pricking the corners of her eyes and was angry with herself. She was never this emotional. She was the intellect behind the Golden Trio. She kept a cool head in the face of danger, torture and death. Hermione Granger didn't bloody cry because she was tired.
"Come along, love. Aw no, Granger, d-don't cry. Please don't cry." She felt the tears dripping onto her hands, down her cheeks to her lips and almost welcomed their salty moisture.
Draco eased the messenger bag from her hands, bringing his arms slowly around her, even as she stiffened. He looked to Harry helplessly, but the blasted Boy Who Loved Firewhisky was shaking his arse while standing on Shacklebolt's sofa.
When he finally got her home after ignoring all the well wishers at the Ministry, he carried her directly to bed. Draco helped her undress, crooning sweet nothings as he slipped a long sleeve, sea-foam top over her head. Hermione murmured in contentment at the feel of the fleece against her cool skin. She crawled under the pale blue sheets, allowing Draco to tuck the white duvet around her even as she shivered. She closed her eyes, sighing as pale fingers brushed her forehead until her eyes closed.
"What do you mean I'll understand eventually? She's been sleeping for three days. I wake her and pour some broth down her ridiculously stubborn throat and she's asleep again. She does use the loo, which I suppose is a good thing. Bill's been sending owl after owl, it's obvious he needs her assistance but I.."
"Ohh Draco, darling. She'll be fine. She's simply exhausted. She's been working tirelessly on whatever assignment the Minister has assigned her. Never-mind your whirlwind romance which lead to an impressively gorgeous wedding and while you both were supposed to be relaxing on your honeymoon, she met with Yuri Blishen and worked. Of course she's exhausted, darling." Narcissa Malfoy surveyed the tastefully decorated space with a practiced eye as Draco burst through the french doors for a spot of fresh air.
There was only so much of his mother he could take before his anger got the best of him.
She hadn't been the least impressed when her son had informed her the Muggle-born witch was decorating their home, yet found herself quite pleased with the end results. Even Narcissa had to admit the colour palette of each room melded with the next and the art pieces drew the eye, neglecting of course the Muggle Pollack painting near the staircase. She simply couldn't fathom its appeal.
"Hermione, dear, Draco will be thrilled to see you're up. Come and sit, we'll have Dink bring us a spot of tea." Hermione ruffled her mussed curls self consciously, yet found herself sitting beside her mother in law in the living area.
She nodded in appreciation as the settee surrounded her in comfort. Draco had insisted on having the very best and in this aspect he was correct. It really was lovely, even in the shade butter yellow she'd been adamant against.
"Dink." Hermione knew Draco's house-elf was never far away when there was company in Forest Lake.
"Yes, Missus." He bobbed his overly large brown head with a wide smile.
"Would you bring us a full tea service please? If we have any of those cucumber sandwiches that would be fantastic." Hermione smiled as Dink popped away to do what he was asked.
"How are you feeling dear?" Narcissa fussed over the tea service, refusing to allow Hermione to fix her own plate, let alone pour her own tea.
"Famished. I'm still so tired, which I don't understand. Malfoy says I've been sleeping for days yet it doesn't feel like it."
"That's to be expected." Hermione found Narcissa's cryptic smile slightly unnerving yet she didn't comment on it. It was well known Narcissa Malfoy oozed a Slytherin calculation which rivaled her husband's and Hermione was to drained to contemplate Narcissa's intentions.
"Nee! You're awake! Oh, Teddy's going to be thrilled. He's been pitching quite a fit since he discovered we returned and haven't visited." Draco swooped into the room full of smiles and his mother noticed the tension ebbing from his stance.
He crouched beside his wife, absently shoving soft brown curls from her cheek.
"Nee? Really?" Hermione shoved bits of cucumber sandwich between her lips, reveling in the feel of the silky texture against her tongue.
Draco shifted Hermione over on the settee until she was practically on his lap to her great embarrassment. Narcissa waved the unspoken apology away with amusement. She enjoyed seeing a lighter side to her son, regardless of who had brought it about.
"Well. We decided calling you Hermione is simply ridiculous and makes my face do terrible things. You detest being called Mione, which one day you must explain to me. Love and baby are perfectly fine yet it's a bit too personal in public situations. Teddy, Merlin love that child, calls you NeeNee and since I am not a toddler it's not entirely appropriate yet I am quite fond of it, hence how Nee was born." Draco snatched the last bit of sandwich from her plate with a wink.
"It's not the worst thing I've heard I suppose. Have I received any owls? I've been waiting to hear from Bill. He's been working on a particularly difficult piece."
"Oi, the wanker's been owling incessantly. I stopped giving his blasted bird treats and he still delivers." Draco 'Accio'd' the envelopes from the table in the foyer and thrust them onto Hermione's lap.
She tore into them eagerly, the slight smile on her lips while Draco ran his fingers up and down her spine dissipated upon opening the latest bit of news.
"Bill wants me to travel."
"We just got back. We haven't even been married a month and he wants you rushing off to...where this time?" Draco scowled and Narissa tapped her lips with her fingertips, hiding her smirk.
"He doesn't want me to leave today, Malfoy. He's asking if I can take a portkey to his location in a few days time. He's working under time constraints. Apparently an old pureblood family wants a particularly heinous curse removed from a family heirloom and while he's more than capable, once again, it's been altered. I wonder if Bill's case is related to our cases."
"Why would you think that?" Draco fixed himself a spot of tea when he really wanted a firewhisky, yet knowing his mother as he did; he resigned himself to overly sugared tea.
"He's done a bit of translating and he has a theory. He's been owling incessantly because he's requesting a spot of my blood. Don't look at me like that. Just a drop or two which I can return in my owl. He can see the runes surrounding the piece yet when he tries to arrange them they alter themselves and simply provide him with my initials. If his theory is correct than I'll be the only one capable of breaking the curse on the piece. At least the first curse. It should only take a few days at most. If it makes you feel better, Malfoy, you can come with me." Hermione smiled brightly then, kissing his cheek quickly.
"How many curses are normally involved when it comes to family heirlooms, Hermione?" Narcissa found herself intrigued by this knowledge.
"It depends on the family really. Some have hundreds and it can take years to break through all the wards and protections. I suppose what really matters is how long the family has existed. The older the family, the more layers there are. Each generation adds their own brand of wards which makes everything really tedious. I worked a piece for the Parkinsons and it took a month, whereas with the Greengrasses it took almost a year. I wouldn't even attempt to imagine how long it would take with a Malfoy piece." Hermione bit her tongue, realising her faux pas too late.
"It seems the Gryffindor Princess isn't as well informed as one would believe." Narcissa's aristocratic features never wavered, yet Hermione could see the calculated coldness in the matriarch's blue eyes and the decided chill in the air.
"What mother meant to say was we uhm donated our family artifacts to the Ministry. They're used for the training of Aurors and on a case by case basis by the Gringott's Curse Breakers." Draco stiffened considerably yet patted his wife's hand regardless.
"I-I didn't mean.."
"Please, Ms Granger, do not insult my intelligence. Draco, darling visit us soon." Narcissa pecked her son's cheek and stepped into the Floo without a backward glance.
Hermione had not missed the glaring snub, nor the way her husband avoided her prying eyes. She felt suffocating pressure in her chest and couldn't bear to spend another moment in his house. As often as Draco stressed it was their house, his mother's use of the living area Floo begged to differ. It was a family network and Draco still hadn't bothered to adjust the wards.
"And the honeymoon is over." Hermione mumbled while gathering the scattered owls into her ever present messenger bag. "Malfoy, I'm going to Harry's." She glared at the ridiculously ornate Floo, even if it was devoid of the gold, it would remain a source of contention.
"You never use my name." Draco sighed, his arms crossed over his chest, gazing out the window. "Will you be back for supper then?"
"I-I didn't know it was that important to you." Hermione thawed slightly, yet not nearly enough to go to him. "I'm not sure actually, Andromeda is bringing Teddy by and well.."
"Yes, yes, I know how that goes." Hermione nodded and made her way into the foyer, slipping into a pair of white trainers.
"You're not using the Floo? You've been ill. Do you really believe Apparating is best?" Hermione glared at him over her shoulder with such venom, Draco balked.
"Why Draco," She spat, slinging the strap of her bag over her head, "If Apparating isn't the best, than surely walking down all those bloody stairs to use the Floo in the travel room would be too much as well."
Draco was left to feel the reverberation of the door slamming, left in the silence of his own making.
It had been a week since Harry had caught her when she stumbled into his kitchen. He hadn't been expecting her, yet that had never mattered. He had ushered her to the table and thrust a butterbeer into her trembling hands. Hermione had dropped her head to the table, her hair covering every inch of her face. She had groaned even as Harry prodded her side with his wand.
He remembered her taking a swig of the butterbeer and belching loudly before the contents of her stomach erupted all over his rustic kitchen table. He managed to get her to one of the guest rooms, despite her protests and her insufferable hiccuping.
Harry had always hated it when Hermione was emotionally distraught. It didn't happen often but when it did, it was a waterfall of unruly emotion. She'd cough until she vomited, and then of course was the crying while attempting to pretend she wasn't crying. Not to mention the inability to form coherent thought. He had half a mind to call Ginny, but since Astoria was visiting her parents, the very idea of his wife arriving home to find him alone with two women made him cringe. Instead, he suffered.
"No Ron you can't come through. I have company." Harry hissed into the Floo, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible.
"Oi. Harry! I'm your best mate! Lemme in! We have an hour before our portkey leaves! We can't miss Quidditch Training Camp!" Harry groaned and found himself stepping backward to allow the boisterous ginger into his home.
"Just, be quiet alright?"
"Harry! Astoria is in France visiting her parents! What's it matter how loud I am?!" Ron smiled broadly, pulling on the hem of his Chudley Canons shirt and cramming the coordinating hat on his head.
"Uh, listen mate..."
"Harry? What's with all the racket?!" Harry ground his teeth together and drew his wand.
"Harry, is that...Hermione? Why is Hermione here? Does your wife know? Are...are you cheating on your wife Harry? D-do you...do you fancy Mione? I always knew there was something going on between you two, even back at Hogwarts. I can't believe that my.."
"Ron. SHUT IT!" Harry had always hated being caught in the middle of his constantly sparring friends.
"Hermione, owl your bloody husband. You've hidden out long enough. Ron, I'm not even going to entertain your ludicrous accusations. You know me better than that."
"Sorry Harry but she just..."
"Ron, I don't care." Ron grumbled his way into the kitchen and Harry was relieved to hear the cupboards slamming open as Ron scrounged for food.
"Harry, I don't want to owl him." Hermione's head popped around the corner of the corridor the moment Ron vacated the room.
Harry could see her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were puffed from hours upon hours of crying and quite frankly she looked like shite.
"You need to work it out. Listen. I'm going out. Ron and I made plans months ago to attend Quidditch Training Camp. Just send the bloke a bloody owl. I'm sick of the lot of you. Dromeda is dropping off Teddy this afternoon. I plum forgot." Harry waved, his smile waning as the fury built in Hermione's eyes.
He grabbed Ron and rushed through the back door seconds before Hermione threw spells in their direction.
"NeeNee! NeeNee!" Teddy raced around Harry's house the moment his feet hit the ground.
Andromeda Tonks laughter pulled Hermione out of her haze. She traipsed down the steps in her fuzzy fleece lounge pants and a thin smile.
"Hermione, I'd say it's lovely to see you, but child, you're a right mess." Andromeda embraced the haggard witch quickly, always maintaining a certain modicum of space between them. She knew, as much as it pained her, that Hermione still had bouts of anxiety. The last thing she wished was to create more havoc in the poor girl's life yet her resemblance to her sister was outside her reins of control.
"Hello, Andromeda. Would you like a cup of tea? I scattered a few Muggle toys upstairs for Teddy, should keep him occupied for a bit." Without waiting for an answer, Hermione set the kettle on the cooker and searched Astoria's cupboards for her tea leaves.
"My sister paid me a visit earlier this week. Strangest thing, really." Andromeda dropped gracefully into one of Harry's many dining chairs and tossed her brown mane over her shoulder.
"Really? Is it that strange? I thought the two of you had been in contact." Hermione stiffened and leaned over the sink basin, listening for sounds of mischief.
"We've sent a few owls between us. We did happen to go to a lovely little café in Diagon Alley for tea and crumpets but no this was different. She simply arrived at my home as if it were nothing out of the ordinary."
"It..it must have been quite a shock." Hermione stammered, "I hope everything went well." Hermione measured the tea leaves into the carafe before pouring the hot water. She rifled through the cupboards almost squealing with delight upon discovering unopened bags of crisps and another of lemon biscuits.
"It was. Narcissa was quite upset, really. I can't remember a time I've ever seen her in such a state." Andromeda smirked as Hermione's hands shook carrying the tea platter.
"Oh?"
"Yes. She's always had a flair for the dramatic, yet she's always held her family in the upmost regard."
"I'm well aware. I think I'll check on Teddy, it's a bit too quiet.."
"He'll keep. As I was saying. After we got past the underlying tension it really was delightful. We laughed, we cried, we shared and then she told me about Draco."
"I don't want to talk about him." Andromeda toyed with her tea cup, continuing as if Hermione had never spoken.
"Narcissa blames herself, of course. He hasn't been sleeping or eating for that matter. It seems he's found himself quite enamored.." Hermione gasped, clinging to her tea cup with both hands, "with his wife."
"I'm sure Mrs. Malfoy is mistaken. They are Malfoys after all. They do what is expected of them, whether it happens to be right or wrong, all in the name of family. I'm sure such notions do not extend to Muggle born witches."
"I'm going to forget for a moment you've insulted my sister. In spite of what my sister would call your questionable blood lines, she petitioned Dumbledore. Dumbledore trusted Narcissa Malfoy enough to accept Draco Malfoy to be your husband. I'm not asking you to befriend the woman, Merlin knows I have a difficult time of it and she's my sister. I'm asking you not to dismiss Draco due to his mother's overbearing tendencies and his father's prejudices." Andromeda sipped her tea and in a most unladylike fashion grabbed a handful of crisps from the open bag.
"NeeNee!" Teddy bellowed from one of Harry's guest rooms, giving Hermione the opportunity to bolt from the table.
"Are you alright? Why are you crying sweetheart?" Teddy's hair was a brilliant shade of green as he barreled into Hermione's outstretched arms.
"I look and look and no Mal. NeeNee.." Teddy sighed dramatically, his chubby cheeks splattered with tears, "want Mal too, NeeNee."
"It's a bloody conspiracy, I swear." Hermione carried the squirming toddler directly to the kitchen where Andromeda sipped her tea nonchalantly.
"You planned this didn't you?"
"Whatever are you going on about dear?" Hermione's dark eyes narrowed with a sneaking suspicion yet she couldn't detect anything amiss.
"Want Mal. NOW!" Teddy screeched, causing Hermione to sit him on the ground immediately.
"Behave yourself, young man." Andromeda scolded him quickly, yet the words lacked the necessary bite.
"For you Teddy, I'll owl him."
"Wonderful. Now that we've gotten that settled, Hermione you really should dress."
"I don't even know if he's coming!"
"Of course he's coming. Narcissa and Draco should arrive any moment. It's high time my sister and I spent some quality time together and there is a lovely park not far from here which Teddy would simply adore. Go on then. Make yourself presentable." If Hermione hadn't heard the pop of Apparition just outside Harry's back garden, her mouth would have dropped open in shock. As it was, she yelped and scurried toward the guest room she'd been utilising.
"I do good, Nana." Teddy grinned widely, his green hair flickering into a pink which reminded Andromeda of her daughter.
"Yes, Teddy, you were perfect." She hugged her grandson to her breast tightly, even as he objected until there was a timid knock on the back door.