Hermione sighed as she slowly dragged her feet up the carpeted stairs. Their wedding reception had been one of the most exhaustive evenings of her life. The only thing she was currently thankful for was that all the wedding guests had been warned to keep the news of the explosion to themselves. Hermione hadn't thought that it would be possible to cover something like that up, especially after Ministry involvement, but it was amazing just how much silence and discretion the Malfoy money could buy. The entire evening, Hermione had felt flashes of hot and cold, almost as though she was getting sick. Next to her, Draco walked equally sullenly. After the reception they had been instructed, in no unclear terms, by Narcissa that they would have to start sharing the master suites. Due to their fight earlier that morning, both Hermione and Draco had been walking on eggshells around each other all day. Draco pushed the door to the master suites open and held it for Hermione out of habit. She bit her lip nervously and hesitated for a split second before walking inside. Draco rolled his eyes at her behaviour. She was acting as though he was going to eat her in her sleep.
"There's a single bed in here," said Hermione flatly, as she entered the room.
"What? There's meant to be a king-sized bed," exclaimed Draco pushing past her to examine the suite.
"It is a king-sized bed," clarified Hermione shaking her head at his stupidity. "But there's only one of them."
"What did you expect?" Draco said unhelpfully. "We are married. Did you really think we would be sleeping in separate beds?"
Hermione fell silent as a hot flush overtook her. She had hoped that perhaps Draco would be accommodating enough to arrange for two beds, but clearly that was not meant to be. Looking down at her fingers, which were currently all but a tribute to Draco with all the rings he had managed to get on them in the past month, Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was it. This was how her life was going to turn out: a loveless marriage to Draco Malfoy with no chance of ever being able to separate or be with anyone else. She felt herself shiver, unsure if it was due to the sickness or the thought of her future.
"The bathrooms are through that door," said Draco suddenly, an odd feeling of tenderness sweeping over him as he saw Hermione's crestfallen face. "You can err go get changed or whatever."
Hermione nodded silently, willing herself not to cry in front of him. Right now, he didn't seem like the older, more mature Draco she had somewhat started to get to know over the past month. The entire day he had reverted back to the spiteful boy she had known back at Hogwarts. Despite the conversation she had overheard between him and Pansy, she just couldn't handle him anymore. Hermione felt weak and wrong footed. The room seemed to be spinning slightly in front of her eyes. She forced herself to walk over to the wardrobe in a straight line and grabbed the first nightgown she found. Veering off-course slightly, Hermione half stumbled her way to the bathroom, grateful that Draco was facing away from her. Once inside, Hermione locked the door and sank to the floor, resting her hot cheek against the cool marble of the bathroom wall. She felt herself shake as a cold feeling overtook her body. She was definitely getting sick. Hot tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks as she closed her eyes and gave in to the delirium.
Draco turned over in his marital bed. He looked at the wristwatch he had placed on his bedside table and swore softly. Hermione had been in the bathroom for over an hour. At first he had assumed that she'd been taking a bath because she'd looked slightly peaky all day, but as the minutes passed, Draco was getting more and more worried about his wife. He didn't know whether he should go check up on her or not, just in case she was in fact still taking a bath and resented the intrusion. An image of her crestfallen face just before she had gone inside the bathroom swam before his eyes, as he decidedly pushed the warm covers off him and swung his legs off the bed.
"Granger?" Draco knocked politely on the door. A minute passed; no response. "Granger? Are you in there? If you don't respond in the next minute I'm coming in."
The seconds ticked by in silence.
Anxiously, Draco unlocked the door with his wand and strode in to the expansive bathroom to find his wife curled up on the floor, against the empty bathtub. She appeared to be sleeping, but Draco could see the glitter of recent tear tracks on her pale cheeks. He felt his stomach flood with guilt as he crouched on the floor next to her.
"Granger?" he said gently, shaking his wife. She felt shockingly hot to touch.
"Wha-? What's going on?" asked Hermione drowsily as she opened her eyes to find Draco peering at her, his silver eyes filled with concern.
"You fell asleep, I think you're running a fever," explained Draco, as he touched the back of his cool palm to Hermione's scorching forehead.
"Why do you care?" muttered Hermione, feeling hot tears escape from under her eyelids as she sank back against the bathroom wall. "Isn't it good for you that I get sick and die so you can bury me in a green coffin with snakes all over it and find yourself a wife you actually like?"
Draco chuckled. "What is with you and thinking I'm constantly surrounded by green shit engraved with snakes? Come on now, up you get."
"Don't wanna," Hermione grumbled, swatting his hands away weakly. "You're mean."
Draco sighed and stood up again. He walked over to the sinks and picked up a soft, fluffy towel and soaked it under the tap of warm water. He walked over to Hermione's crouched form and gently dabbed her face with the wet towel, wiping away her tears as though she was Julius. He picked up her scorching hands and wiped her fingers gently, one by one. Then, he scooped her burning body into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom, wincing at how hot she felt. Hermione felt herself against the hard panes of Draco's bare chest and looked up at him in surprise. He appeared to be wearing a pair of black pajama pants and nothing else. Hermione was glad that her body was already hot with the fever so that he wouldn't realise the extent to which she was blushing at the contact. Thankfully, Draco set her down on the bed gently and covered her up, before summoning a fresh towel and a bowl. Hermione watched in surprise as Draco filled the bowl with cool water from his wand, and dipped the small towel in it. Wringing it out, he sponged Hermione's searing forehead almost affectionately. Hermione was dimly aware of him sponging down her arms and feet with the cool towel, before she gave herself back in to sleep.
"Granger's sick," Draco announced as he walked into the patio, and stopped short to find Blaise buttering a piece of toast for Julius as Narcissa poured them cups of juice from an ornate crystal jug.
"What happened to her?" asked Narcissa, looking up with a hint of concern in her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Draco asked Blaise, looking confused. "We didn't have plans today, did we?"
"No mate," answered Blaise as he handed Julius his toast and picked up another piece for himself. "I came to ask Narcissa if she would accompany me shopping, I need to get a present for my uh mother…" Blaise broke off and exchanged a look with Narcissa. Only Draco could've seen the slight trace of deception in their faces, but then only Draco would be looking for it.
"What's wrong with Hermione?" repeated Narcissa quickly, as Draco narrowed his eyes at the pair of them.
"She seems to have a fever, probably got it from sitting around in her wet dress after the wedding," he replied.
"I thought you were the one that was clumsy enough to fall into the pond or whatever it was?" asked Blaise smirking. "Did you get her all wet then?"
"Yes, I mean no, not in that way you idiot," muttered Draco, a hot flush rising to his cheekbones at the memory of how Hermione got wet. "I err splashed her as she pulled me out and she got we- soaked by the water." His treacherous brain seemed to have decided that now was a good time to replay a very vivid image of Hermione's heaving chest, droplets running down the twin curves…
"Why didn't you give her your cloak?" Narcissa asked disapprovingly. "What is the point of having a water-repelling and heating charm on it if you can't use it in such situations?"
"I gave it to her eventually," Draco mumbled, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him so he could be saved from the excruciating awkwardness of the conversation. The image of Hermione's translucent bodice refused to leave his thoughts. "We were a bit distracted. Hey, is that toast?" he quickly changed the topic.
Narcissa wrinkled her nose delicately, and excused herself. Draco sat down on the table, determinedly not looking at his best friend and trying to think of utterly non-arousing things before his pants turned into a rather –even if he did say so himself– large tent. Julius picked that moment to distract Blaise by asking him questions about his favourite Quidditch team. Draco found himself beaming into his toast as he surveyed his son lovingly. Thank Merlin I decided to get a little person of my own. They really can be excellent devices for distraction…
"Well, she's definitely running a fever," Narcissa confirmed, walking back out to the patio.
"You checked on her?" asked Draco in slight shock, forgetting the piece of toast he had just bitten off. Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her son and he quickly chewed the food down. His mother's unyielding wrath when it came to table manners made Voldemort look like a fluffy bunny.
"Of course I checked on her," said Narcissa stiffly. "She is family now after all. And I'm not the one that almost hexed her yesterday. I'm surprised you didn't kill her in her sleep."
"I would've but I was too busy casting cooling charms on myself after how hot she made the bed," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "But I'll be sure to do it tonight when I'm less distracted."
"Aww ickle Drakie-poo," Blaise grinned widely. "Looking after his little wifey."
"Didn't you have a present to buy?" Draco shot back, scowling.
"As much as I hate to leave when you are giving me excellent material to tease you with, we probably should go select it now," admitted Blaise. Narcissa nodded in agreement, and the two bid goodbye to Draco and Julius. The two youngest Malfoys looked to each other in mounting excitement as they realised that Narcissa had gone, and they were free to do anything they liked. Abandoning breakfast, they both bolted to Narcissa's bedroom where they hopped onto her carefully made-up bed and proceeded to jump on it. After all, she did have the springiest mattress in the Manor...
Hermione woke up feeling utterly dehydrated. She stretched stiffly as indistinct memories of the past few hours flooded her mind. She vaguely recalled Draco gently sponging her body to get her temperature down, and him conjuring extra blankets to put over her shivering body. She had the hazy remembrance of a cool hand on her forehead and someone forcing her to sit up and drink a potion. She could have sworn it had been Narcissa, but there was no way that was possible. Hermione slowly threw the blankets off and felt the refreshingly cool air hit her body. Uncaring of what she looked like, she slowly made her way to the dining-room hoping she could find a drink of some sort there. She was too thirsty to bother to change out of her pajamas, but thankfully she felt almost back to normal. The potion had clearly worked wonders.
Entering the dining-room, Hermione was thoroughly surprised to find it full of occupants. Draco, Narcissa, and to her great shock, her father seemed to be halfway through dinner. Together. Hermione blinked a few times, but the image didn't go away. I must be delirious she thought, shaking her head to see if the image wavered.
"Oh look, Hermione's awake," said Narcissa, extending her daughter-in-law a small smile. Draco and Herman turned to the doorway to find her there looking confused and dishevelled.
"Ah my sleeping beauty," Herman beamed giving Hermione a hug. "I'm glad to see you're awake. Are you feeling better now dear?"
"I'm sorry," said Hermione in confusion, edging away from Herman and blinking rapidly. "I think I had too much medication or something, you look just like my father. I must be hallucinating."
Draco snorted into his steak.
"I really am here Hermione," said Herman fighting a smile. "Draco was kind enough to send a big bird to my house telling me that you were sick, so I came to visit. The lovely Narcissa insisted I stay for dinner, and of course I couldn't refuse such a charming offer."
"Come sit down dear, eat something," Narcissa said, gesturing to the empty seat next to her. Hermione nodded and made her way to the table. She was still slightly shocked that her father was having dinner alone with the Malfoys.
"Are you feeling better?" Draco asked, addressing her for the first time since she had entered the room.
"Much better thanks," mumbled Hermione, her cheeks colouring at the memory of Draco looking after her. "Err thanks for looking after me."
"It was nothing, what sort of husband would I be if I didn't look after my love?" smirked Draco, as Herman smiled indulgently at him. Hermione realised that she'd forgotten they had to act like they were in love in front of her father.
"Are we still going to Pansy's ball for her brother's birthday tonight?" Hermione asked, changing the topic.
Draco looked at her in surprise, "Well, I was going to, Parker would never forgive me if I didn't go. Are you sure you feel up to it?"
"Yeah, I actually feel almost fine now, just dehydrated and hungry," assured Hermione.
"Well, I'd definitely enjoy the company," said Draco brightening up slightly. Hermione wasn't sure if it was an act or if he really wanted her there, but it felt nice to think that he enjoyed himself in her presence. After the tender way in which he had looked after her last night, there was no way she could stay upset with him. Maybe he really did want to make things up to her? The thought cheered Hermione up almost as much as the tall glass of orange juice she pretty much inhaled did. For some unknown reason, Hermione found that she couldn't stop smiling throughout dinner.
After bidding farewell to her father, Hermione and Draco went to their bedroom to get dressed for Pansy's ball. Hermione took a much needed bath and quickly slipped into one of the new dress robes her father had insisted on gifting her as part of her trousseau, especially since the Malfoys had hosted the wedding. As much as Hermione hated when her father splurged on her, she appreciated the beauty of the robe. It was easily one of the more flattering ones she had. The bodice and full sleeves of the robe were made of black silk, embellished with sparkling jet-black stones. The dark silk was split at the waist, revealing an underskirt of crimson when she walked. Hermione shot a few spells at her hair, and it set itself into an updo with a few tendrils framing her face. Satisfied with her appearance, she quickly fastened the long black diamond earrings Draco had presented her for their announcement ball and stepped out of the bathroom.
Oh sweet Merlin I should really have made it clear I was coming out.
Draco Malfoy was standing in the middle of their bedroom in nothing but a pair of midnight blue silk boxers.
Hermione forgot to breathe as she stood there gawping at her husband. She felt as though her eyes had just eaten one of Hagrid's treacle tarts, because they felt glued to Draco's muscular chest. His blonde chest hair was so fine that it was barely noticeable, except for a slightly darker trail of hair disappearing inside his boxers. His muscles rippled as he turned and noticed her watching him. Hermione swallowed nervously as he started walking towards her, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. She knew that she should move or say something, but she was unable to do anything except stand there and watch her husband approach. Hermione could feel the doorframe of the bathroom pressing against her shoulder blade and her heart hammered so loudly she was certain he could hear it. Draco was just inches away from her now. Hermione closed her eyes, and tilted her chin slightly, eagerly awaiting his kiss.
"Excuse me," said Draco, trying not to laugh as he neatly side-stepped his wife and walked into the bathroom. He made sure to shut the door behind him before he collapsed into laughter.
Hermione's eyes flew open. That incorrigible pompous prat.
By the time Draco and Hermione Apparated to Pansy's party, it was already in full swing. Hermione's cheeks were still slightly redder than usual over what had transpired in the bedroom. Or more accurately, what hadn't transpired in the bedroom. Draco found himself smirking more than usual. He had never thought that being married would be fun, but then again, he had never thought that he would be married to Hermione Know-It-All Granger.
"Draco, Hermione," said Blaise, as he walked up to them. "Glad to see you're feeling better Mrs Malfoy."
"Ugh, I still feel as though that's Narcissa," admitted Hermione, smiling affectionately at Blaise as he hugged her.
"How is Pans holding up?" asked Draco quietly, as he gave Blaise a pat on the back. Blaise surreptitiously looked around, and edged in closer to Draco.
"To be honest, she's quite strained," Blaise said almost inaudibly. "But I don't think that anyone would cause trouble. Well, too much trouble at any rate. She's already had a few snide comments to deal with and she's trying not to let them get to her, but so far it's nothing horrible."
"What's going on?" asked Hermione, dropping her voice.
"Do you know much about Pansy's family?" Draco asked her softly. Hermione shook her head, and leaned in to hear him better. "Well, Pansy's father was a Death Eater for a short amount of time. He was never a part of the first war, managing to escape it all by being in France, but he was basically strongarmed into being a Death Eater during the second. He was only recruited when we were in our fifth year, and it was mostly because he had to ensure the safety of his family. The summer before our sixth year, Voldemort killed him."
"He killed him?" whispered Hermione in horror. "What for?"
"A raid gone wrong," said Draco bitterly. "There was a muggle family he was meant to kill to get something off them, and he couldn't do it. To make things worse, he advised them to change their identities and escape. When Voldemort found out, he was furious and killed him within seconds. Pansy's father defected at a time when it was almost unheard of, and a lot of people here tonight won't let her forget it."
"That's awful," Hermione said.
"That's not even the half of it. After his death, Voldemort started putting pressure on Pansy's mum to get Parker to replace his father as a Death Eater. Parker was only fifteen then, and their mum was obviously against it. Voldemort always had an eye on Parker because of his ability to cast unusually strong shield arms and hexes. By the time Parker was thirteen, so in our fourth year, Voldemort started putting pressure on the Parkinsons to let him join the Death Eaters. As a stall, Pansy's parents moved him to Durmstrang, ostensibly to get better trained in the Dark Arts, but really just to send him as far from Voldemort as they could. After Pansy's father was killed his mother was terrified Pansy and Parker would go the same way, so she tried her best to convince Voldemort that it would be best if he didn't recruit Parker until the actual fight, and keep him sort of as a secret weapon."
"Why wait till the actual fight?" asked Hermione. "Wouldn't that be even more dangerous?"
"No, she was just playing for time," Draco said. "And it would save him from many dangerous situations. You don't understand, even as a Death Eater, just being in Voldemort's presence for a prolonged period of time was dangerous. Not to mention the raids that he insisted we carry out and the many attacks from Aurors we had to face. Parker would've been in less danger during the confusion of a final battle."
"So, what happened then?" Hermione prompted, feeling an overwhelming amount of sympathy and admiration for Pansy's mother.
"Just before the final battle, Pansy's mother still tried to play for time, hoping to keep Parker from fighting. Voldemort realised that the only way to get Parker to fight was to keep their mother captive. It worked, Parker agreed to fight with them and even took the Mark on his arm to prove it, but while she was kept captive the Death Eaters were instructed to subdue and torture her in any way possible. By the time the battle was over and Parker and Pansy could make their way back to their mother, she had gone insane. She's at St Mungo's now. Has been there ever since," finished Draco.
"So that's why Pansy was so against fighting," said Hermione, half to herself.
"What?" asked Blaise, looking her with confusion.
"The night of the final battle, when Voldemort said that if we gave him Harry there would be no more fighting. No wonder she was so ready to give Harry up," clarified Hermione softly.
"Well, wouldn't you?" Blaise defended.
"I don't know, but I can now see why she would," said Hermione, looking over at Pansy with a sad smile. Pansy caught her eye, and made her way over to where they were standing, after quickly excusing herself from two wizards' sides.
"You made it," she said smiling, as she hugged Draco and nodded at Hermione politely.
"Of course we did," said Draco smiling at his friend. Hermione felt a slight tug of jealousy. Draco certainly never smiled at her like that.
"How are you holding up Pans?" Blaise asked, his dark eyes filled with concern. As Pansy looked at Blaise, her cheery façade slipped slightly, and for a split second Hermione saw sadness in Pansy's eyes. Blaise had apparently noticed it too, for he gave her hand a quick squeeze.
"It's not as bad as his seventeenth and eighteenth," said Pansy softly. "Most of the people have got over the initial shock, but there are always some that can be counted on to make snide comments."
"Old bats," Blaise said firmly, as Pansy giggled.
"There Parker is now," said Draco pointing to a handsome dark haired boy. "Come Granger, let me introduce you."
Parker turned out to be a very soft-spoken and charming young man. It was obvious to Hermione that he really looked up to Draco, despite there being only a minimal age gap between the two. Hermione never would've guessed that Parker had been a Death Eater. Had she met him under other circumstances, without knowing who he was, she would've thought of him as a very unassuming and intelligent person. Though, just like Pansy, he had a hardened expression in his eyes that made him look older than he was.
"Do you want to dance?" asked Draco, as Parker was hauled away by a pretty girl that looked like she was about eighteen.
"Sure," Hermione agreed readily. They joined the growing number of couples on the dance floor.
"Are you having fun?" Draco asked politely, as he spun Hermione around his index finger.
"I never thought I would say this about a party at Pansy's house, but yes, I really am," said Hermione happily, putting her arms back on Draco's shoulders. She was feeling particularly happy that she and Draco seemed to have forgotten about their fight from the previous day.
"I'm glad to hear that," said Draco as they spun around the elegant ballroom.
The second the song was over, Blaise cut in and Draco handed over his wife as he took Pansy's hand. Hermione found herself smiling at Blaise, despite the fact that Draco and Pansy were dancing together.
"So I take it things are better between you two?" asked Blaise as they danced.
"Slightly," said Hermione, "He took care of me last night when I was sick."
"So I heard," smirked Blaise. "I also heard it was because of your wet clothes. Pray tell me, dear Hermione, how did your clothes get wet when Draco was the one that fell into the water?"
Hermione's cheeks rivalled the crimson underskirt of her gown. "The spray of the water from the waterfall he fell into got me."
"Really now?" asked Blaise grinning. "Because Draco told me it was due to him splashing you when you tried to pull him back. Interesting isn't it that you both have such different stories for how your clothes got soaked?"
"You and Pansy looked cosy," replied Hermione, with a grin to match his own.
"Point taken," muttered Blaise as Draco and Pansy spun past them. Hermione looked at them scrutinisingly, as if, by paying their dancing attention she could be sure that neither of them harboured feelings for the other. She was so busy berating herself for feeling this way, that she didn't realise that Blaise was doing the same thing next to her.
A/n: Thank you once again for the reviews, and thank you to everyone that has added me to their favourites and alerts! I love feedback and positive response makes me even more motivated to write and get the chapters out quickly! :)