"It's like I told you, father. We had a fling, and she got-"
"Yes, I know she got herself pregnant. Well that can happen in a fling, those birthday surprises don't all come with warning labels you know." Lucius held a rather lugubrious expression as he took the paper from his son and opened to the continuing on page five. "Well, apparently page one wasn't enough, so she's taken half of this page to tell the rest of her story. Hum. . . .I haven't read this far." He gazed over the page and shot a quick and unrecognizable glance towards his son. "And you know what? Believe it or not, sales have gone through the roof this morning. They've offered her a pretty sweet deal, if she writes an entire book about the whole thing, you know. . . the little details, the way it actually happened. Can't blame the girl for going for the galleons."
Draco snatched the paper back from his father hands and crumpled it in his fist, he threw it on the floor, and started stomping on it. He wanted a good excuse to go see his wife, and now he had one.
He was so angry he wanted to scream as he stormed out of the front doors. Lucius closed them behind him, and began to whistle a tune. He then headed for the kitchen. He felt tea, would be lovely this time of day.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my imagination. I was inspired by another romance novel i read and J.K. Rowlings wonderful world. Enjoy!
Chapter 57
"Wrapped so Pretty"
The final week of April, it was blissful, this life without wizard, or at least for as long as it lasted. It had been a week and a day since Hermione left home and began living with her mother-in-law. Hermione and Narcissa lazed around like cats in the sun, sipping on glasses of iced pumpkin juice. Some days they didn't comb their hair until noon. When Petur dropped in, if they felt like it they would serve him sausage and potatoes, then shared a bagel smeared with their favorite cream cheese and called it supper. They stopped accepting all owls. Hermione had stopped wearing a bra entirely, it was just to painful and her stomach double twice the size it was last month. They long games of chess and tended to the Narcissa's greenhouse by floating lantern light, once the sun died in the hot evening sky. Each morning they would turn on the phonograph and danced with there morning coffee. Hermione forgot worries and her feet felt as light as a feather when Celestina Warbeck played.
To Hermione, the old castle was everything a home should be. Narcissa thought her how to bake spiced apples and picked flowers with her, which they filled the rooms with.
They allowed Petur into their women's house because he entertained them. He made them laugh and feel desirably beautiful even with pumpkin juice trickling down their chins and vine twigs caught in their hair. They eventually began letting Lucius in too, because Hermione simply didn't have the heart to turned him away any longer. Not after the surprise candle light dinner he arranged in the courtyard Saturday night. Rather than wait for Narcissa reply to his invitation, he brought the invitation to her, and would not accept no for an answer when he offered for Hermione to join them.
Now, he couldn't keep his hands off his wife long enough to breath air.
Hermione simply relaxed. Rather than working on magical quarks and theories. She spent her days lying in a oval wicker chair in one of the garden's far end. At night, her heart began to yearn for Draco's voice as well as his warming touch. But she had to remember how he had betrayed her so cruelly.
She was out working in a bed of tulips, and the muscles in her arms ached as she pulled up row after row of weed sprouts. The mornings were starting out warmer now, so it was smarter for the two women to work on their flowers early. Petur would be hear to gather them by noon for the Emelie and the Veranda.
Hermione stood up and straightened her back. A breeze caught the skirt Mrs. Weasley had given her. An old fashion calico print, that wrapped well past her ankles. It was soft from years of wear and washing. Mrs. Weasley said that it had always been her absolute favorite, when she was with child.
She stretched out her back some more and looked up at the mountain sky, and pretended it marked the boundary of her life.
That was how Draco found her. In the garden with his mother, her palm curled over the handle of a gardening pail and her face lifted to the sky.
Petur had agreed to show him the way there, but only if he didn't cause trouble. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her standing against the sun in a faded calico skirt, surrounded by rows of multi-colored tulips and lilies. Her French braid was coming undone so that long brown wisps caught a mid-days breeze. She looked as natural as the earth and the sky. Sweat and the breeze had molded the dress-like thing she was wearing, displaying the shape of her breast and the hard round belly where he baby was safely growing.
She unfastened two buttons at the top of her blouse, and the sides fell into a V shape exposing her cleavage for him. She was brown as a berry; her arms, her cheeks, the moist v of skin that pointed a path to her breast. She looked like a portrait of mother earth standing there, or of some other mythical creature silhouetted against the sun.
She had never been so beautiful to him s she was at that moment, standing there without any make up on. With out a lot of fancy get ups, like younger witches would wear when they wanted his attention.
The crumpled newspaper rustled against his thigh, and Petur tapped him to bring him from his dazed state.
Narcissa's voice ranged out from behind her. "Petur, good afternoon sweetie. Speak of the Devil. . . .Draco, you're looking ripe and peachy." said his mother jokingly after taking in his roughneck-type of appearance.
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she dropped her pail.
His mother he hadn't seen her in weeks. What had happened to her? She never use to look so lax, and un-put together.
Instead of her expensive cloaks and gowns, she wore no jewelry, a pair of loose, pearly white cotton pants, and a matching loose to tunic. Like Hermione she wore no makeup. Her hair was longer than he ever seen it, and untidily pulled into a ponytail rather than her usual bun.
This was someone else's mother. Not his mother. Hermione in the meantime picked up her pail and marched over to the side of her mother. As he watched, he noticed that her feet were bare and had soil on them. Both of them, her nor his mother wore any shoes.
She silently took her place beside Narcissa.
"He doesn't want me back," Hermione snapped, looking down at the paper balled in his hand. Hermione didn't need to see the paper to know the damage it may have done for his so-called pristine reputation. He set out to ruin her life and the way she saw things, it was an eye for an eye.
"I hope you're proud of yourself Hermione."
"You, vanted to see your vife dunghead, and right now you're blowing the moment." Petur moved past him and closer to the ladies.
Her gaze lifted from Petur to Draco, as the muscle-tone Bulgarian walked over to her side. Draco felt the impact of jealous rage building in his chest. Draco tore his eyes from her. "I'm her husband asshole, and when are you going to but out of this Krum, and stop trying protect her."
Petur shot a hard look back. "Ven you stop trying to tear her down, arse-holé!" he answered him back.
Draco saw that she wasn't surprised by the way he'd come to her defense, and he also saw how much that please Petur too. She trusted him, and Draco hated it.
The two men continued to look thunderous at one another, and Petur began to realize that bringing him here may have been a mistake.
"If you don't mind," he said tightly, "I'd like to speak with Hermione alone."
"That's up to her son." His mother looked at Hermione, who shook her head.
This was really pissing him off in a major way. Why were they all on her side, why was he being painted the bad guy.
"Aah good, everybody's home." Lucius gave a nod as he appeared on the spot. Draco breathed a sigh of release to finally having someone he could see eye to eye with.
His mother's expression turned on a dime. She began smiling like a sunbeam as he walked over to them handing each of them another copy of today's headline newspapers. He arched his eyebrow when he saw Draco still held his own, so Lucius, smiled and kept an extra one for himself.
Just when he'd thought things couldn't get worse, his father walked straight into the house, as if this whole scene unfolding was some sort of pretty tea party.
"You beautiful ladies invited me to stop by a little early —non? So are ve still having tis lemon-pepper chicken for lunch?" asked Petur, he then leaned forward with a familiarity that indicated he'd done it before, and patted Hermione's belly. "How's this little lady doing today?"
Draco had him by the collar and on the ground within seconds.
The sound of a blast erupted, nearly knocking his eardrum out of whack. Chunks of dirt and grass flew into his face and stung his arm. Between the sudden explosion and the cloud of dust temporarily blinding him, Petur had time to roll away.
Draco swabbed the dirt from his eyes and leapt to his feet with his wand drawn. When the cloud cleared, he was standing wand to wand with his own father. "If he was acting this way," said Lucius "It's no wonder you left him."
His mother—his sweet, reasonable mother—stepped in front of her as if Hermione were her child instead of him. His father stood before him his wand tip spitting sparks, waiting for his father next flick. Draco stood there looking at his father as if he didn't understand.
"What are your intentions towards Hermione, Draco?" Lucius asked him. Lucius not so much as made a single move, his stance perfect. He was quick with his aim and though he never had to with draw his wand against his own son before, he wasn't about to risk letting him harm Hermione ,nor his granddaughter.
"That's between the two of us."
"Not exactly, Hermione is with child, I'm sure you're understanding of that. While she's away from her own family, she has a family here with us to look after her."
"I'm her family."
"You're not thinking clearly and you reek from drinking. So right now Narcissa and I will look out for her best interest. Pull yourself together, and then you may have a word with your wife."
He saw that Hermione's eyes was glued to his father's face, she looked stunned, happy and yet sad all at the same time. His mother gave him that same I-mean-business look that she gave him when he turned eleven and received his first wand.
"Are the things Hermione said true Draco? Are you gonna honor your wedding vows to her, or do you plan to get rid of her after the baby's born?" Asked his mother.
Petur stepped back into sight. "He has no right to be here, this doesn't concern him." argued Draco, he hated the fact that this other man was always in the middle of things.
"Stop making it sound as if you have some sort of contract, Draco." said his father calmly, he then pointed his wand quickly towards Petur and then back at Draco. "He stays. He's a good man, and he cares about you, but you refuse to see it. He cares about your mother and Hermione's safety, just as I do."
" Yes sir, I do." Petur shot a warning glare at Draco. "And if he doesn't vant Hermione, I vill be there for her, any vay I can."
Hermione gave a weak smile to return the one Petur had given her. In it, it said that regardless what happened everything would be ok. And for her not to worry.
"You can't have it both ways, Draco. Either you intend to treat Hermione like a real wife and keep it that way or not. I want to know?" steamed his mother. It was a question she needed him to answer right now today! Things were getting out of hand with his drinking and his violent tempers.
"And so do I?" Lucius stated. He never lowered his wand. "Are you going to honor the vows you made to your wife?"
He reached the end of his rope, and his temper snapped. "Yes dammit alright! No divorce, We'll stay got damn married! And there wasn't any bloody vows to speak of. We were married by the court, just so that you know. It was just me, her, an attorney and a suitcase, full of papers. There are you all happy, I said I'll respect the vows, or the papers what ever makes everyone happy."
His mother flinched. Hermione tears broke, and she swept into the castle. Petur let out a low whistle and went into the kitchen after her.
He knew he'd blown it, but he was so pissed right now. She's publicly humiliated him, making him look like a fool in front of the whole world. She knew he never wanted that secret out, of how she'd tricked him.
Narcissa wanted to cry, and more than that, she wanted him off her land. She loved her son, more than anything else in this world. But there was a new life that would need her soon, and he was simply, no longer a baby. She was furious with him, and wanted him gone. She only prayed that one day he'd understand her decision.
Lucius walked the rest of the way up to his son, until the tip of his wand singed a hole upon his unwashed shirt.
Lucius knew how Narcissa felt, even though they were young, and their conception was completely unplanned, he still felt and knew Narcissa deserved a true wedding. He wanted his wife to have the memory of a true marriage, one that any woman deserved. Lucius now understood why the girl seemed so glued to the idea that she somehow wasn't a real wife to his son, all this time he would have never imagine Draco to rob her of something so precious. It was not as if he didn't have the money, there were half a dozen accounts in Gringotts at his son's very disposal. Lucius went a while without speaking. Thoughts and memories racing behind his eyes. Maybe he was to blame for his son's cold nature. Just as his parents were the reason for his own blind, cruelness towards Narcissa in the past. But, every man has to hold account for his own actions once he becomes a man, and all things come back to haunt you sooner or later. He didn't want his son to lose his her, but this cycle had to end.
Anger filled Lucius like a flood rushing, he clenched his teeth "Get—off—this—land, Draco Malfoy. Before, I forget, that I am your father —and the reason that you are, the way you are."