Chapter Seven

The next morning Hermione woke, still painfully aware of last night's events. She wished she could forget everything… just pretend none of it had happened.

The sun had already risen but the sky was gray, as if the sun was reprimanding her for not having risen with it.

Despite some evil-looking clouds, Hermione pulled on her riding clothes and headed outside. As she made her way outside, she began thinking of last night: Her encounter with Draco, convincing her grandmother and the Malfoys that she'd changed her mind and would gladly accept the engagement.

She peered at her hand, where a small ring glittered gaily at her, completely oblivious as to how unhappy it made its wearer.

But something else was nagging at her mind: Draco's father, still suspicious of her intentions, had insisted that Draco stay at the Black Manor for the remainder of the week. Once that week was up, he wanted the two to live at the Malfoy Manor. They would switch off, week by week, up until August the 26th, which was the date that had been set for the wedding.

The wedding.

Hermione was going to get married – this was still a strange concept to her.

She had always liked to imagine her wedding; She wanted bagpipes to play the entry music as she walked down the aisle in the most beautiful white dress. The altar would be covered in lilies and wildflowers and her father would walk with her, finally giving her away formally to the man she loved deeply and truly. Her mother would have tears in her eyes, but Hermione would know it was worth it, because she and the love of her life were about to be joined forever…

But Hermione had learned long ago that Cinderella was one lucky bitch. Things just didn't happen the way they were planned; Something was always amiss.

For Hermione Granger, dreams did not come true.

Rounding the corner, she caught sight of none other than the Devil himself. Draco stood inside the fences, one of his hands resting on the shoulder of Turkin, an older Arabian gelding. The other hand gently massaged the horse's nose. He was whispering something to Turkin, whose ears stood upright, listening to every word, every sound.

Hermione watched this interaction for a moment before turning on to the stalls in search of Zephyr. Finding her horse, Hermione attached a lead rope to the mare's halter and led her outside.

Zephyr eagerly reached for the grass, deliciously wet from the dew. Draco must have noticed her out and about, because after a few moments, he headed unenthusiastically toward her.

"I'm slightly surprised you haven't escaped yet," Hermione greeted in an attempt at being friendly.

"Cursum perficio: I stay the course," Draco replied.

"I see."

Hermione paused, leaning against Zephyr, who didn't really even seem to notice her. She was considering Draco's words.

Draco wasn't really in the mood to say much, either. His mind was convinced that he would end up eventually married to this girl, no matter how much effort the two put into attempting an escape.

Forcing himself to take an outsider's view of Hermione, he realized that he was actually able to admire her.

He had to admit, he was glad she was intelligent and glad she was beautiful. Her hair was back in a ponytail, which cascaded down the back of her neck. He admired the soft features of her face, which matched her equally soft eyes, chocolate-brown. Her cheeks were ever-so-slightly rosy; Her lips were full; Her eyebrows were beautifully arched.

He also admired the way she dressed: She wasn't cheap like Pansy Parkinson, or most of the other Slytherin girls. Hermione was simple and not gaudy and because of this, her facial features complimented her form. Her clothes did not expose more than her arms but her riding pants, which hugged her hips and legs, betrayed a very well-developed figure.

And unlike many of the girls from school, Hermione wore no make-up. She simply didn't need it, because she was beautiful all on her own.

He was jolted back to earth when Hermione spoke again, "Would you like to go for a ride?"

Draco glanced at the horse, then at the girl. "Sure, why not?"

"Okay, I'll ask one of the stable hands to saddle up Turkin for you."

Once they were both situated atop their horses, Hermione pointed out several trails. Having only been down one of them thus far, she was excited to try out a newer one.

They rode mostly in silence, enjoying the morning air, which was light and breezy. After about a half an hour's ride, they came upon a small clearing with a pond. Hermione dismounted and tied Zephyr's long lead rope to a tree by the pond, allowing the horse to graze and drink.

"We should give them a break – it's hot," she explained.

Draco tied Turkin to a similarly placed tree and sat down by the edge of the pond, about four feet from Hermione.

There was more silence as Hermione picked at the grass absentmindedly.

"So how do you think we should go about things?" she asked aloud.

Draco paused to think a moment. "Well I know what the three of them are expecting us to do. We'll just have to act like everything's fine, then once they've decided to trust us, we hide."

Hermione frowned, "And what sort of things does that entail?"

"You know," he answered, leaning back onto the grass, "like going on…"

Dates. Hermione knew he meant to say it, but neither of them could bring themselves to utter the word.

"Like where?"

"Well these riding sessions are good," he remarked offhandedly. "It's kind of like bonding time, right?"

Hermione thought of bonding with Draco Malfoy and snorted. Zephyr looked up at her expectantly.

"What?"

She fidgeted, "Well, I've just never thought this would happen to me… and you. I mean, I never thought I would ever NEED bonding time with you."

Draco shrugged. "It's what they want from us. Among other things. Tomorrow we can go riding again, then visit the Louvre if you'd like."

"You… like art?" Hermione's eyebrows raised.

"I paint sometimes," replied casually. "Not that you'd know, but most pureblood families make sure their offspring are good at a number of things, magic only being one of them."

"Like what?" Hermione was curious.

"I don't know – like art and riding and dueling and stuff."

It was the end of the conversation. They mounted their horses once more and continued on their way.

Draco got severly annoyed when he learned that Hermione had never jumped with a horse before and she had to go around a fallen tree.

"I'll teach you tomorrow," he muttered.

Hermione's cheeks burned red from embarrassment and she didn't know why. Perhaps it was the demeaning way Malfoy had promised to teach her to jump. More than likely, it was because she was used to already being better at him in everything anyway. She had never thought Malfoy could teach her anything she didn't already know.

She still had a lot of trouble imagining this boy that had bullied her for years enjoying time with horses. He certainly knew his stuff.

They left separately for the Black Manor. Hermione went back to clean up and speak with her grandmother.

She got clean and presentable, but found her grandmother to be engaged in a business meeting with some important ministry member or another. Hermione didn't care to keep track anymore.

Having a couple hours on her hands and with nothing to do, she decided that if she left word with George where she was going, no one would bother her.

George agreed she was right, but insisted she be back in two hours. With what must have amounted to a smile for her these days, Hermione took some Floo Powder from a small tin by the fireplace.

"The Burrow!" she called clearly.

.

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Author's Note: Short chappie, I know... but don't worry, the next one's bigger.

Thank you RIPJameSiriusLupinTrueMarauder, GoodCharlotte615, xxDrAcO'sBaby4EvErxx, Readerforlife, AerintheWhiteKnight, likeEdwardlovesBella, and sureynot for reviewing. You guys rock.

GoodCharlotte615 - I know. Out of curiosity, I re-read my original not long ago and wow... I was astounded at how young I sounded when I wrote. I know that's a weird thing to feel, but my writing has developed so much since then, I didn't really think the old story did much justice...