Chapter 24 Doubt and Consequences [I'm Sorry by Brenda Lee]
Warm rays of sunshine along with strands of his Crisalide's silky hair caressing his chest, brought Draco gently into the morning leaving his old friend solitude far behind. As he remembered her surprising boldness the night before, he smiled. Gradually, her scent strengthened, making him realize that his veela side would come to fruition if he didn't take some Sedo potion. Within his room, he searched for it frantically between tiny blackouts that increased in duration and frequency with only one thought repeating in his head: Mate.
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Later, he joyfully awoke but with a slightly sore back. Crisalide's sweet and spicy scent completely covered him. However, now he only recalled searching frantically for his Sedo potion much earlier. The shower droplets stung his back. In horror, he looked at several scratches and realized he had lost control and forced her, recalling his mild amnesia from his violent confrontation with the black mastiff. Though he knew it couldn't make up for the act he committed, he wrote "Forgive Me." Not able to face the fear in her eyes that he remembered from their camping trip, he then went to the Archives department and worked for the rest of the day and until the wee hours Monday.
When he returned to his home early Monday morning, in his study, Bianca awaited him. "I wanted to hear how the date went." She waited a moment. "So, how was it?
"I …," he muttered, "nothing." He grabbed some paperwork and plume. "If you see Hermione, can you make sure she's alright and send my sincerest apologies? If she wants to talk to me, I'll meet her at Hogwarts after Dark Arts."
Once he explained his veela nature, he wondered if she would forgive him for what happened. After all, she knew about his work at the Ministry. Maybe with that in mind, she still admired him and wanted to bond. Tuesday afternoon, he went to the courtyard where he spotted Hermione and Mickey sitting beneath a tree. She cried on Mickey's shoulder. From the distance and above the din of several other conversations, he overheard her. "Doesn't love me…can't trust him." Then he overhead Mickey mutter something regarding his unscrupulous methods to get what he wants.
Draco went to the library to see if there was anything, he could do to put an end to this veela thing. He found out that Hermione had been the one who checked out "Blackwell's Comprehensive Guide to Veelas" prior and now had returned it. "Duro vultus," he commanded with a wave of his wand. It flipped to the section on mixed heritage, stating that the veela part controls the choice of a mate: the last passage she read.
When he returned the book to its shelf, Mickey bumped into him. Mickey lowered his coke bottle glasses and looked him dead in the eye. "You haven't changed. The world doesn't need your kind anymore, Malfoy, especially Hermione."
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Feeling defeated, Draco didn't care to respond and portkeyed home. He knew he didn't have a chance anymore. At home, he worked for he had a lot to accomplish before the next day. Very late that evening, Tinkey brought him a package that had been left at his doorstep. He opened the box to reveal every gift that he had ever given to Hermione with a note that read:
Draco,
The past several weeks have been wonderful. However, I realize now that I really cannot forgive you for all that has happened. I don't love you. I never want to see you again.
Hermione
Despair besieged him but he continued to work for distraction. He worked all that night, through the next day and the following evening, to the point of feeling feeble; all in order, to avoid thinking about her. Before bed, to clear his conscience, he wrote a letter to Hermione.
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After purchasing a honeymooner's wardrobe Sunday, Hermione hid it in her closet, in a far corner so her parents wouldn't see. She had an odd suspicion that maybe they had searched her room.
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Monday morning, she went to Hogwarts to perform her intern's duties. Bianca soon joined her, grading some herbology papers. Revus, Gangley, Pansy and a few others snickered in a corner sneaking glances her way. "Don't give them another thought," whispered Bianca. "They're just jealous. You're positively glowing with love."
Revus, Gangley and Pansy sauntered over. Revus piped up, "So, it seems Draco won the bet."
Pansy giggled. "You're going to have to explain it to the poor little Mudblood."
"Draco made a bet with us that he would shag you."
"Oh my," mused Pansy. "She actually thinks he loves her." Then the gang turned to leave. "As if he could ever love a Mudblood."
She turned to Bianca. "Do you know if that is true?"
"I can tell quite accurately when someone is lying and when they are hiding something," she admitted, as she grew pale. "They are telling the truth about the bet but they are also hiding something." Hermione's heart grew heavy. "I can tell you beyond any doubt that Draco loves you very much." Bianca looked at her apologetically. "He wants to meet you tomorrow after Dark Arts. Maybe there's an explanation for this."
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After Dark Arts the following day, Hermione went to the large oak tree in the corner of the courtyard. She had lived a fairy tale for the past few weeks. From all the evidence, she was just a notch on Draco's wand. Mickey sat next to her and tried to comfort her. "Do you think Draco has changed?"
"No," he replied. "Sure he accomplished a lot but he threatened several officials to make them roll over and do as he told them. That's what a dark wizard would do. And, this thing between you, does he love you or does he have an agenda?"
"I don't know. It hurts so much to think of not being with him. I have proof that he doesn't love me and I certainly can't trust him." Tearfully, she leaned against his shoulder.
Mickey confirmed to her that Draco had just used her and that he was a dark wizard. She waited for Draco afterwards but he never arrived. In her room, she noticed her quill, earrings and her birthday bracelet were missing. Also, the necklace from Draco, that she hadn't stopped wearing, somehow disappeared from around her neck. She concluded that Draco put a Recall spell on all the gifts to activate once his completed his conquest. Despite all the evidence, a small part of her believed or maybe unrealistically hoped that he loved her and that maybe all the proof was misleading.
Shortly after she finished tutoring potions, an owl brought Hermione an unsigned note. "I need to speak with you. Please be in your room tomorrow at 9 PM. Thanks."
That evening, she fell asleep clutching the picture of them accepting the Coeus Award while she cried. Why? I love you.
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The next evening Hermione went to her sitting room and warmed herself in front of her fireplace, curious to see who sent her that note. The head of Narcissa Malfoy, an older blond woman, who looked remarkably young for her age, very beautiful and happy, appeared. "Hello, Hermione," she said cheerfully. "We've never been properly introduced. I'm Draco's mother, Narcissa."
She replied, "Hello, nice to meet you. How are you?"
"Very well, I'll be returning home soon. I saw the articles about you and Draco. I wanted to let you know that I'm happy you and my son are dating despite my prejudices of the past. Don't let what others say even from my own family discourage you. Draco loves you very much. I can tell."
"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy." She now felt guilty about the entire deception. "Draco doesn't love me though." She felt sad. "He never…." She lost her words in sorrow, as she wiped tears from her eyes.
"He never tells you he loves you," Narcissa said sympathetically. Hermione nodded. "Believe me, he loves you. Unfortunately, he's turning out to be just like his father." She looked sad. "Do you love him?" Hermione nodded. "I want to tell you a little about Draco's childhood to shed a little light on why he acts the way he does; so hopefully, you can understand him better and forgive him." Narcissa dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
"Lucius always treated Draco coldly, as his father before him, and so on. Actually, I know Lucius had been treated far, far worse." Quickly, she turned to hide the sorrow in her eyes. "To counteract the damage Lucius did, I always showered Draco with affection." Her voice trembled as she continued. "He had come to accept this as normal behavior because he hadn't been around other families. When he was ten, he went to flying camp for two weeks, his first time away. He placed first in his age group and second at the camp overall."
"When he came home, we were having a big soiree. He spotted his father first, ran up and hugged him. He yelled, 'I love you father and I missed you so much.' Draco behaved just like the other children did at the train station when they saw their parents. You should have seen the light in his eyes as he showed Lucius the trophy he won." Her voice quaked. "Lucius scolded him. He said, 'Remember you're a Malfoy and you'll do well to mind your manners in public. Do not embarrass me like that again."
"Lucius took him to his study and put the trophy in a cupboard. When I walked in, he said to Draco, 'Maybe next time, you'll get first place, overall.' Draco ran upstairs to his room. Immediately, I followed and told him how much I loved him and how proud I was of him but it was too late. My son's heart had been broken. The light in his eyes had been replaced by hurt and humiliation."
"Then I returned to the party to fulfill my duties as hostess. Afterwards, when I went to Draco's room to comfort him, he refused to show any tears and told me, 'Mother, I wasn't crying. I'm a Malfoy. I'm strong and one day he'll love me and be proud of me.' I told him his father loved him but wasn't one for words but he didn't believe me." She dabbed her eyes once more. "That night, cynicism and bitterness replaced childhood wonderment in my son' eyes and never returned. I wanted to divorce Lucius when I saw how cruel he'd been, but I knew I'd lose Draco. As he grew up, Draco always saw other fathers showering affection upon their children; something he never experienced and felt he didn't deserve. Though he lived a life of privilege, in his mind he never received the one thing he so desperately wanted: his father's love."
She thought a moment. "Every year on his birthday Draco gives his father a present and tells him he loves him, privately of course but Lucius never says the same in kind." She wiped away more tears. "Lucius does love his son. During Draco's schooling, Lucius required weekly status reports on everything that happened at Hogwarts. Lucius actually just wanted to hear from Draco. Lucius tells him he loves him and that he's proud of him by buying him gifts. When Draco made the Quidditch team in his second year, Lucius bought the entire team brooms. That is how the Malfoy men say they love you. Has Draco given you an expensive gift?" Hermione nodded remembering all the gifts. "That's his way of telling you he loves you."
"I'll be coming home next week and face some rather difficult decisions that I have been avoiding." She wiped her eyes. "To be honest, I love Lucius. We've always had chemistry." She looked very sad. "Sometimes things aren't black and white." She smiled warmly. "You have an ally in me."
"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy," she said with a newfound belief in love.
"Don't settle, make Draco tell you how he feels," Narcissa directed, "and please call me Narcissa." She smiled. "I'll see you next week."
Their feelings were true. Tomorrow morning she would investigate the missing gifts and resolve things with Draco. First, she needed sleep.
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A knock on the door awakened her very early in the morning. Tearfully, Bianca barged in. "You have to go to Draco now." She handed Hermione a note. "I enchanted his quill when I first arrived so my quill would write everything that his did." Hermione began to read. "I wanted to find out who the girl he loved was."
Dearest Crisalide,
First, know that I Draco love you. The veela side of me merely caused me to take notice of you. At first, due to my prejudices, I didn't want to. Thanks to that potions project, I got to know you. I made that choice to let the veela become stronger; to bring forth the part of me that desperately needed you. That day in the woods, I knew what I had to do to save you and made a choice which I never regretted.
However, I want you to know that, I respected your intellect and thought of you as my equal and became your friend during all those research sessions. I kissed you at the ceremony and wanted you for all the days and nights to come. Your pure soul shined to me and gave me a rapture of love that I have never experienced before. Ultimately, it's I, Draco not the veela, that loves you with my entire being, because you're everything I want and most of all, just because you're Hermione.
You inspired me to become a better wizard but I will never be worthy of you. Within the government, I made some positive changes. Unfortunately, I used disreputable methods, all without remorse. For me, the ends justified the means. No matter how much I deny it, I am a dark wizard.
The veela hurt you that morning in the hotel, a crime which doesn't deserve forgiveness. Considering how badly I treated you in the past and the times I saw fear in your eyes at my touch, I understand why you could never love me or have complete faith in me. Without that faith, the veela would force you to bond with our next encounter and with a forced bond you would never achieve complete bliss. Through any bond, all I could give you would be the darkness that is within me. I won't do that to you. That is why I cannot see you anymore. Please forgive me.
All my love,
Draco
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Immediately, Hermione touched the portkey Draco gave her. When she tried to get into the Malfoy mansion, she found the door locked. She pounded the door. It opened to reveal a familiar but cheerless face. Tinkey, the house elf stood there. "Tinkey, is Draco at home?" She nodded. "How is he?"
Hermione's heart sank looking at Tinkey's big, miserable eyes. "The master went to bed hours ago, gravely ill. I'm sorry miss but he won't take visitors and he ordered me not to disturb him." She started to close the door.
"Nor will I take no for an answer." She pushed her way in. At the bottom of the stairs, she stepped on a piece of parchment, which she read as she ran up the stairs to Draco's room. Her heart sank as she read the note she didn't write, knowing what heartbreak could do to a veela. Draco lay in bed wearing black silk pajamas, his ashen skin revealing more than weariness. Most of the gifts he had given her sat on the bedside table along with the Italian book, opened to the Crisalide picture. "No!"
