Chapter 45

Hermione didn't know what to do. She and Draco needed to talk, they couldn't just leave it here after all they had been through, but she also knew that she couldn't hold her breath for Draco to come around. No, he had placed himself out of the country, out of reach. And Pansy would intercept any letter she sent.

As opposed to Draco, Hermione wasn't quite ready to let this go, she needed to talk to him. It was more than just a question of tolerating his mother at this point, they were back to a more fundamental question about what they meant to each other. He had effectively shed her like a coat. Although she knew in her gut that it wasn't true. Pansy would not be intercepting her letters if that was true, she wouldn't have to bother.

They couldn't go on like this, she decided. She would have to seek him out. The problem was she didn't know how. She had no idea how to find the house of some continental witch and she was not going to tuck her tail in and ask Blase if she could avoid it. She could well imagine the disapproving looks and the sharp little jibes. She needed someone else to ask.

"Adrian," she called as she pounded on the door of his apartment. She should be at work, but this was more important.

"What?" he said groggily as he opened the door. He had his blanket around him. "Hermione? What are you here at this indecent hour?"

"It's four in the afternoon."

"Is it?"

"Your quiddich team had a game then?" she asked. She knew Adrian went off the rails whenever his favourite team played. He smile, but it was more of a grimace. Hermione suspected it hurt his head just to move his facial muscles. "I need to find Babette Huircroix."

"Babette," Adrian said with a further grin. "She is hot." The thought was obviously worth the pain.

"Oh god, you're still drunk," she said and rolled her head back in a silent curse. He would be no good for apparating if he was drunk. "I'll make you some coffee," she said and pushed her way inside.

"So are you going to marry him?" Adrian asked once Hermione had shoved a mug of coffee in his hands.

"Does everyone know our business?"

"Yes."

Hermione sighed. Oh how she loved having an audience for everything she did, but that was part of the Slytherin lifestyle. They were bitchy and mean, but they were tight. Made for better back-stabbing, she guessed.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "We have issues."

"Who doesn't," he said and drank down the coffee she had made. "This is awful," he said looking down into the mug.

"Thanks."

After three more coffees and a bowl of soup, Hermione had been ready for him to apparate them across to France.

"Thanks," she said when they arrived outside an old French chateau. It was picture postcard beautiful, even in the evening. If she could see the countryside around them, she was sure it would be stunning as well. How was it fair that some could live like this?

"Don't worry, I wouldn't miss this for the world," Adrian said with a gleeful smile.

"Great," she said realising that every Slytherin here would be thinking the same thing. She was glad that they didn't all have mobiles so they could sent texts to the missing parties to descent on the show for the evening. Small mercies and all that.

Hermione stepped inside and an elf appeared, but disappeared as soon as he saw Adrian. She followed Adrian as he walked into a large room furnished in Baroque. Austentatious old everywhere. And not the fake kind, this room was actually decorated in the 1600s, she'd bet. It had that slightly musty smell that was associated with really old buildings and furnishings.

They were all scrubbed up, she noted, which made her stand out like a sore thumb in her navy office skirt and beige trench coat.

"What are you doing here?" Pansy said striding towards her while giving Adrian a whiltering look.

"I think you know exactly why I'm here, Pansy."

"Just leave him alone."

"Don't interfere Pansy," Adrian said.

"Fuck off, Adrian," Pansy replied.

Hermione could see Draco across the room. He was lying on a day bed with his eyes closed. He was dressed in his finer set of robes, like they had been to the opera or something else requiring the highest level of dress. But his was undone. His ties was undone and so was his shirt. She walked over to him.

"Draco?" she said. His eyes floated open and moved to hers. He was drunk, she could see it in his eyes. He started laughing.

"What do you want?" he said.

"I think we need to talk." Hermione was conscious that while they rest of the people in the large salon were acting like they had other things to do, they were all paying attention. She sat down on the day bed next to him so they could have a little more privacy. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"

"Not sure I can stand right now," he said with a grin. "Besides, I don't want to talk. What is there to talk about?"

"Us," she said.

"Us? You mean the 'I asked you to marry me and you were ambivalent about it' thing. Ambivalent, like I was a purse you couldn't decide suited you or not. I am not sure there is much else to say. It pretty much says it all."

"It's not that simple," she said conscious of speaking quietly in an attempt to preserve their privacy. "You know I don't think like that. Can we just go into the next room?"

"Actually, when it boils down to it, it really is that simple," he said stressing each word.

"Don't be like this."

"Don't be like what?" he retorted. She could see the anger inside him coming out. She sat back and looked at him trying to figure out what he was saying.

"So this is it? It just ends like this?" she asked crossing her arms.

"Actually, it already ended. You should just go now," he said pointedly.

Bitch, Hermione thought and slapped his as hard across the face as she could manage. It stung her hand so she suspected his stung him worse. She got up and turned, heading straight for the door. She was not going to let anyone see her cry. She couldn't believe what a complete pig he was. Well, she guessed it was over then. She hadn't expected him to be so completely cold, but she guessed it only made things easier for her. She didn't think it was a mistake coming here, it solved things, she decided.

She heard footsteps behind her, large strides coming towards her. She knew instinctively it was Draco and it seemed he wasn't quite as drunk as he made out. She didn't know what he wanted or that she wanted to stick around for it. She sped up.

He grabbed her by the elbow and she felt a sharp jerk and then nausea. He'd apparated her, the bastard. She felt the insane shifts in gravity pull her insides.

"Argh," she screamed. "Let go of me!" He did and she fell to the ground. He'd actually been holding her up. She blew her hair out of her eyes and looked around. It was dark. "Where have you taken me?" He didn't answer.

She gathered her balance and stood up. There were trees. Darkness and trees. They were in a forest.

"Where have you taken me?" she ask and turned to him. He shrugged and looked around. He really wasn't as drunk as he had seemed, else he had sobered quickly. She couldn't really make out his features well in this darkness.

"A forest?" he said with uncertainty.

"A forest?" she repeated. "In the girl book, it is generally advised not to go to forests late at night on you own with your ex. It is universally accepted as a rule."

She could see a smile tug as his mouth.

"Why have you taken me here?"

"I don't know, it just happened. It's the Forbidden Forest I think."

"The Forbidden Forest!? Even better. Somewhere you're never found. Excellent."

"It's certainly cold enough."

They were silent for a moment.

"I asked you to marry me and you were ambivalent. How was I supposed to feel?"

"It's a big decision."

"It shouldn't be."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She knew what he was saying sounded right, but there were all the considerations. "If I marry you, I have to live a certain kind of life."

"The same is true whoever you marry, but I'm what, not worth the sacrifice?"

"It isn't like that," she said defensively. He was oversimplifying things and it wasn't fair. "Please try to understand."

"Then you explain it to me, because I am not seeing it. I've come half way, I stood and waited and you didn't show."

"How have you come half way?" she demanded. "I have to give up my entire heritage."

"I've changed everything in my life to be with you, and you won't give anything," he said.

"What, being a drunk idle mess, as your friends call you? Is that what you mean?"

"It may not be a lifestyle you appreciate, but it was mine and I gave it up to be a husband to you. To be with you. But it wasn't enough for you. You know I really am talking myself into murdering you," he said. She knew he was being sarcastic. "My family is not good enough for you, my friends are not good enough."

"They are horrid," she exclaimed.

"Do you have any idea how nauseatingly revolting your friends are? And they wear so much wool, they really do smell like sheep."

Hermione gasped at the insult. "They do not." Actually on rainy days, when they come into the pub, their jumpers had is a bit of a sheepy smell to them, she had to conceded.

"Your parents are these brainiac snobs, who think we live in the dark ages."

"Maybe they have a point," Hermione shot back.

"So why are you here? Why did you come tonight, just to torture me?"

She didn't answer, she just looked at him as he stood in the dark quiet forest.

"What if it doesn't work?" she said after a while. "What is we do this and it doesn't work? What then? What if we do have kids and we're both fucking miserable with miserable children. There is nothing in your surroundings that support me, only you, everything else is a challenge. Everything else detracts from us. What if we are not enough? I give up my job and my future. What if I only end up having you and you stop being being? If I do this, it prescribes everything in my life and the consequences are set."

"At the end of the day, it's a leap of faith and there is no way around that. You just have to decide whether I am worth the risk."

"It's not a question of worth," she said. She had never intended for him to think that.

"Yes it is."

"This isn't about worth. This was about control, if I let you into my life on a permanent and real basis, I can't …" She wasn't entirely sure how to say it. "So much of your life is prescribed. You come with all these rules and requirements. Stuff I have no control over, it just is."

"You come with some requirements as well, you know."

"Not like you do."

"So I am worth it?"

"Don't say that," she said shifting her stance. She had tried to argue what it wasn't about worth, but it seemed to boil down to it anyway. She had to decide and she had to give him an answer. Her insides were churning with uncertainty. She loved him, but there were so many things that came with him, so much baggage she didn't have any control over.

"I am absolutely not living in Malfoy Manor," she finally stated. He twisted her head to the side considering her.

"Fine," he said. "As long as my parents are alive. They really aren't that bad. I think you'll change your mind once you get to know them."

"Don't count on it. I am not genetically programmed to love them."

"You know I do love it when you speak gibberish. It makes living with you so much more interesting."

"And I will work."

"Once the children are old enough. Going to school and such."

"Well then you work," she said.

Draco widened his eyes in a plea. "Come on."

"One of us has to work."

"No we don't."

"Those are my terms," she said holding up her hands. She was not going to budge. If they were going to be married, he would not be running around being idle.

"Merlin, I hate you sometimes," he said through gritted teeth. "Fine."

"Good," she said. She was actually getting on a roll now. "And-"

"No more terms. Too late, you're committed now."

"Wha..? I didn't agree to that."

"I did it for you. I'm your fiance now. Soon to be your husband."

"Yeah, we are never going to get there is you keep that up," she warned.

"Enough talking now, come here," he said. He held his hand out to her. Warm and firm, waiting. Hermione felt her heart beating heavily in her chest. If she took his hand, they would be making up for lost time and her whole body was preparing, building with tension and heat. See, she told herself, he would do this again and again, tempt her with sex to get his way. And it friggin worked too.