Disclaimer - I like writing! And I don't own any rights to the characters used in this story. The End.
Chapter eight.
The common room was large and spacious, with a roaring fire off to one side, warm, large rugs laid over the surface of the cold, stone floor, a couch and two large stuffed chairs sat around the fireplace, with a small table in the middle.
Bookshelves lined the walls and various equipment and ingredients used in Potions had their own large glass cupboard.
The room had a goldish glow to it, accentuated with silver linings that were hard to pinpoint. The large staircase split in the middle to reveal a small kitchen and dining room, while at the top of the staircase was another floor, dedicated to two bedrooms and a bathroom.
Hermione quietly went up to the bookshelves and ran her fingertips over the titles of the books, every now and then slipping a book out to take a closer look. Draco, meanwhile, had gone straight to the Potions cupboard like a small boy goes to a toy store.
He too, took out various things and inspected them. They continued like that for a while, neither acknowledging the other. Suddenly Draco sighed. He turned to Hermione and ran a hand through his hair, "Look, Granger, I know that this, Marriage Law, is a difficult dilemma, but I don't want to be stuck in a horrible engagement and marriage for three years before parting with half a million galleons. And while the Malfoy name still carries a lot of brunt in this world, that idiot of a Minister was adamant that this needs to be done, needless of the fact that most Purebloods don't give a flea's fart about blood supremacy."
He stared stoically into the fire and Hermione gazed appraisingly at him, an open book still in her hands. "Well, how do you expect this to work? You've tormented me for years because of my 'inferior' blood and you expect me to instantly think you've changed?"
He glanced at her, his gaze wooden. "Some people will do anything for their family."
As Hermione shut the book, the firelight shone against the engagement ring and she looked at it, wonderingly.
He didn't have to get her a special ring; he could've just gotten the Ministry distributed rings, but he didn't.
Hermione sighed and turned away from the fire to place the book away. When she turned back, Malfoy was staring moodily into the flames, hands in his pockets and white shirt loosened.
The light and colour of the flames reflected on his face, making it hauntingly beautiful. She rolled her eyes at herself, at least he was attractive and she knew him. She was sure she could be worse off, especially as he had just about admitted to retracting all acceptance of blood supremacy and she knew from Harry that his family had been under threat of death if he refused or failed the Dark Lord.
Thinking of Harry though, Hermione remembered that Draco had initially trained with him as an Auror before deciding that he'd rather study the art of Potions Making and that they now had some form of friendship.
Draco startled from his reminiscing as he heard a soft voice coming from behind him. "What?"
"I said, 'what did you have in mind?' How will this marriage work? We'll be stuck together for about twenty years at least. That is if we don't want to be re-sorted and get stuck with someone who we might hate even more!"
Draco chuckled, "Is that even possible Granger?"
"Merlin, I hope not!"
"Well, I propose a truce." He turned around slowly to face the amused witch behind him and cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Continue."
"I say, we start over, and we can only get mad and throw things and hexes and curses and whatnot over matters that happen after this moment. We don't bring up the past too much, because we were young and impressionable, now we should be able to sort things out, sort of maturely."
Hermione narrowed her eyes in thought and slowly nodded, "I can do that."
Draco smirked and held out his hand, Hermione eyed it for a moment before taking it in her grasp and shaking it firmly. He could feel her small delicate hand slip into his and it made him want to draw her close, just so he could protect her. Mentally, he shook his head, Grow up Draco! He growled to himself.
Hermione met his large warm hand and it felt like…home. Home during Christmas. That sense of wonderment and safety. Hermione chastised her self, what was she thinking? This was Draco Malfoy. Known as the Bouncing Ferret… well, that was until he'd brought a small white ferret, named him Draco Jr. and like someone with true charisma and leadership had flaunted off his namesake, successfully quelling the laughs and leaving admiration in its stead.
None of the emotions that swirled around in their heads showed in their eyes or in their faces, so they cordially separated. Hermione turned and headed to the stairs, "I'm going to check out my room." She called over her shoulder.
"Whatever Granger." Draco waved his hand disinterestedly, turning to the small table and comfy chairs.