A/n: SO. As always, this is posted in delay. :
Anyways, we got this new dsl that would really enable me to go onlyn as long as I want... but the thing is... I'm already a graduating student and... you know... things get hard in school.:
But still, I WILL finish this story.:)
I only have one chapter for now. But I'm working on the 33rd now and... well... we'll see.ü
Enjoy this chappie for now.ü
Refresher:
Hermione and Draco just fought. But at least in that fight, their feelings for each other started to show its real form.
However, fights can be for the better or for the worse.
Better figure out what will happen next.ü
And as always... sorry about updating really late...:
By: Aningme
Chapter 32
Dilemma: The Sequel
He was gone.
Standing by the bathroom door, she stared at the empty room that suddenly turned cold and devoid… just because he wasn't there.
Frowning at that simple fact, she stomped her way to his bed, picking up the pillow she used to hit him with. It was a foolish thought, so as she mused. And feeling foolish enough, she dropped to the bed, the pillow still on her hands, and wrapped her arms around it in desperation.
Damn him. She muttered in her head. He didn't even leave a note or anything.
She glanced at her robe hanging by her bed post, remembering his previous note he gave her yesterday, hidden in her pockets. It somehow insulted her the way his simple words seem to tickle her heart at its mere existence… and by the simple way he stated them...
But now… she suddenly wanted to hear those words from him… with his voice… with his mouth forming those words…
She shivered, appalled by her sudden longing for him, and shook her head.
"I'm a mess." She told her child, caressing her belly gently, contrasting her nasty mood boiling deep inside her like a volcano. "Look at me. Look what you're father's doing to me."
She never felt so disoriented and out of sorts as she did now. She hated being this way, unsure and unwary of the things happening to her. She was used to a life understanding anything that came her way, always possessing a logical explanation for one thing and to the next.
But now, she couldn't explain what just happened to both of them. She couldn't explain these feelings that seemed to choke at her heart, mess with her head, and sweep her off her feet at all times.
And…. by gods… he threatens her. She's never been afraid of any feeling or emotion she had for another person.
She knew she messed up in their fight, having her outrageous reaction to him a mere defense mechanism against that FEAR she recognized and felt humming in her head now. She would hit him, punch him, shout at him, strangle him, scream at him, claw at him...
But still, she knew with all of her being that whatever she did to him wouldn't help her avoid her greatest FEAR that dawned over her and smothered her completely...
... her fear of the mere fact that he had a complete hold of her heart.
"I'm in love." She declared, laughing in disbelief. "Good Merlin's shoes… I am in love with the bastard."
It was still shy of five in the morning when he received the call. He had planned everything to be done today, and he couldn't make any adjustments in between all of his duties. Every minute counts and he was entitled with three hours of sleep tonight.
Well. Two hours of sleep now, if it wasn't for the bloody sod…. Blaise Zabini thought, opening his office door after a few series of knocks.
"I should be in bed, comfortably snoring the night away." Blaise hissed, lifting his coffee mug in a salute. "Well, that would be impossible now, with all of your bickering and---"
"Good morning to you too." Draco Malfoy interjected, and smiled, glancing at his mug. "And it would be even better if you're kind enough to share."
Blaise raised a brow at him and sidestepped to let him in. "I have a full pot by the table. I need it since you deprived me of a good hour of sleep."
"Aren't we all?" He answered, stepping into the cramped, paper-and-book filled room and headed to the coffee pot.
Watching him, Blaise rolled his eyes in defeat and closed the door behind him. "Don't get too comfortable. Time is something I'm selfish about. I can't afford to lose more than what you've caused me to."
"This won't take long." Draco promised, watching him from above the rim of his cup.
Blaise Zabini sure hadn't changed after these years. Though his built was definitely bulkier, more muscled than his teenage years, he'd grew very well on his toes, with a touch of longer mane and manly sharp features along with his wits.
But all in all, he's still the tight assed bastard Blaise Zabini Draco knew from his well hidden past.
Sighing in exhaustion, Blaise walked around his desk and threw himself at his big leather chair, rubbing at his eyes vigorously like an irritable teen. He'd still have to run some errands for his wife, who'd been nagging at him all night before he drifted to sleep. And he'd have to pick up their five year old Marcus L. Zabini for the promised zoo trip he'd demanded to visit in the muggle world. Exhausted at the long lists of things to do, and the unnecessary chores he believed every husband was cursed with, he snapped at his visitor, finding him the only target for termination. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"No 'Welcome home mate?'"
He laughed, mockingly, his quick temper from lack of sleep evident. "I figure you've gotten enough."
Draco laughed as well, warily though. "Head of the Ministry. Blaise Zabini. I still can't swallow it whole."
"Yeah, well, Can't we all?" Blaise retorted, mimicking his tone. Sipping again from his mug, he threw him a glance. "Now, I must ask again, what do you want? You disappear for-how long is it now- ten years? You've been back for only a couple of days and now you're already in my office for questioning."
"More like an interview, in my case."
"All the same." Returning the cup to his withered desk, he sighed and stifled a yawn. "Talk. My attention span's not that wide as they used to be."
Draco tilted his head for a better view of his specimen. "I'll keep it attentive. I just request for a hearing. A legal one at that."
He made a grab for his mug again, sipped, and returned it back on his desk. "What's this about?"
"A testimony." He noted the red-brimmed eyes, and excused Blaise's obvious desperation for another sip of coffee from his tortured mug. He watched as the pitiful man glanced at his cup, but averted his gaze to his listener after an obvious internal battle to grab for it. "An investigation for the identification of an antidote for the victim of the crime I assume you already know about."
Blaise nodded in acknowledgement, locked his fingers in a mesh, as if holding back to reach out for his coffee again. "And that crime would be illegal poisoning by Dark Arts, and under muggle territory."
"That's right." Draco leaned back on his chair, showing none of the dread he was feeling now. It seemed like his mothe—Narcissa-- automatically made him feel apprehensive at the thought of her. "You know about Narcissa Malfoy."
"I've seen the paperwork and questioned her before turning her in." Blaise leaned closer now, a sign of his captured interest. "I assume you'd want the schedule of this particular hearing."
"Yes. And I highly suggest for only a numbered audience for this."
"That can't be helped—"
"You, me, Professor Dumbledore, and no one else."
He heard the finality of his tone. The power underneath them. Blaise frowned now, weighing the odds. "I don't see the need for such cautious privacy."
"I, for one, know Narcissa Malfoy would be difficult to break." Draco started, reckoning every argument he had with her for the past years he'd been with her. "She won't concede to a big audience. Better yet, play them a dramatic story of a pitiful wife and mother, beaten and abused by the whole world."
"You think it's best to make this personal."
"In a way, yes." He sipped at his coffee for nothing better to use as a prop. "It all takes different kinds of approaches to break through the fog and see a person."
Blaise glanced at the window, undecided. It indeed takes all kinds of approaches to break a person. He'd been at it for almost a decade, and he'd seen worse and worse in different cases every year. It would be a risk if they take on a private hearing. It was only lucky for this asshole that he was too pissed and exhausted to consider the risks. "I'll see what I can do about that."
Satisfied, Draco set his cup aside, preparing to dig. "So, you personally questioned the convicted."
"Indeed I have, and I have nothing to say of it."
Draco smirked now, his ever so smug face. Blaise seemed to learn to hate it through out the years he'd seen his sorry face.
But, somehow, seeing it after a long time of disappearance, it seemed like a casual joke--or a greeting---between acquaintances.
Well, yeah, if he could consider him such as that.
"Is this the welcome I deserve, Zabini?"
"From me, Malfoy, nothing better." Blaise smiled then, suddenly feeling hospitable enough for the sorry bastard. It was the caffeine kicking in that caused him to warm up to Draco Malfoy, and nothing more.
But… what the hell. He missed this pisser's face long enough to make him smile at him the way he did now. "Bloody bastard. You disappeared like a ghost and came back from the dead."
"My resurrection seemed to spread out quickly around these parts." He could see he was starting to fall into a normal conversation. He changed tactics and aimed for friendly. "It's a shame I don't get a press conference about it."
"You be careful with what you wish for, lad. If Lavender Brown sniffs you out from the crowd, you'll see your face in every page of the Daily Prophet."
"Lavender Brown? Daily Prophet?"
"Yes, yes, a surprise as well, but not so much if you lived here long enough. Looks to me you have a lot of catching up around 'bout how everything works here."
Draco grinned, realizing he needed not any tactics to get to Blaise Zabini. It wouldn't trouble him enough if he actually… well… liked… the person… for real. "Well, I guess I better get started with you."
"I keep my business my own. I do what I'm ought to." He gulped at his coffee mug again, and looked surprised to find his mug empty now.
Watching him walk to the pot for a refill, Draco nodded in agreement. "So, how's the Ministry? And the fucked up system it so proudly boasts?"
Blaise laughed so loud, he sloshed some coffee from his mug to the rug. "Well, better, I presume, having me as one of the heading ministers, instead of you."
They both knew everyone expected to see Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, to be the Head of the Ministry when time permits it. He let those expectations drive him for years. But he escaped that now, built his own roads to cross. "I'll be damned if that happened. I'm glad as I am now. Free of the system."
"It is fucked up, in some ways. Every system can't help it but have flaws. You know that."
"Of course." Draco agreed, thinking of his father, all the operations underneath proceedings he'd been involved with. He shrugged it off, and forced himself to put all of those nagging memories behind his head. He didn't want to remember any of them. He wanted to concentrate on what is. "I assume you're dealing with that."
"I do my job." Blaise sighed in contentment, washing his throat with another load of caffeine. "I've heard much about you. Built an empire on muggle land. Who would have thought the great Draco Malfoy would think of a thing such as that?"
"I do have my fantasies."
"They aren't fantasies now, are they?"
"No. They're real enough."
They stared at each other for a moment, letting the dusty air fill in the room. If one would look at them, it was possible to assume they're sizing each other up, like two predators ready to claw at each other for a piece of meat.
And after a few seconds, both simultaneously smiled at each other like old pals.
"Bloody daft maggot. Welcome back in this messy world of wizardry, my lad."
She'd had her breakfast with Professor Dumbledore, after being summoned down for a morning chat. She felt awkward at first, remembering how she acted around him the other day when they dismissed her like a student who were forbidden to listen to grown up meetings. But, as always, he had this kind of air that forced you to be comfortable in whatever circumstances you are in. And after a while of small talks and greetings, she spoke openly to him in all matters.
They talked of Hogwarts, the new professors, their old ones, and how they went about their lives. She learned about the new school rules they had implemented, and how they go about their classes with a little variation from their own. They even reminisced the old times Professor Dumbledore helped her through her numerous classes. She'd been one to be the studious student, always buried in books and literature.
She felt relaxed talking about these things, her past in Hogwarts and her early childhood. She could still remember them clearly, see and feel every detail of it.
She only felt remorse for not feeling this way with her other memories that she now longed to be found.
Feeling it slowly crawling in her belly, she perked up a smile, and sipped her tea, dismissing it from her thoughts.
He saw that, the smile that attempted to smother the frustration evident in her eyes. He ignored it for a while, and encouraged her for another butter roll.
"Oh, I've had enough, Professor." Hermione declined, placing a hand on her belly for a moment. She could feel the slight tug of nausea climbing up her esophagus. But she tried to calm it down, fight it off.
Morning sickness again, just as scheduled.
"Well, I believe you haven't eaten much, especially in your condition."
"I'm quite full, really." She wanted to get away from the sight of food, feeling green all of the sudden. "I think I'd need some fresh air for a moment, walk some of it off." Placing a hand firmly over her mouth, she paused, feeling herself gag. "I think I over ate."
Dumbledore laughed in the careless way he did, his lungs audibly shaking. "Go on, go on. Classes are about to start in a moment, by the way. You may attend some classes if you'd like to sit in. I've informed the professors about your arrival. I believe they'd be happy to see you in their class."
Hermione smiled, remembering this hospitality all too well. "Thank you Professor. I really appreciate that."
Watching her walk off, Dumbledore smiled, and turned to Professor McGonagall. "She hasn't changed a bit, Minerva. That passion for knowledge. That smart little girl."
"Yes, indeed. We'll be seeing her in our classes today. I'm quite sure of it." Professor McGonagall smiled, sipping her tea in her usual elegant ways.
She'd puked enough of the breakfast she had, and felt a little dizzy afterwards.
A walk in the forest. That would do it. She mused, steadying herself from the toilet bowl. After splashing some water on her face, she breathed in and out, staring at herself in the mirror.
She looked different. Way different than what she could remember. Her face in her head was her seventeen year old one, youthful, soft and gentle.
But now, as she watched the line of her jaw curve down her neck, her eyes set into her face, she realized she lost that youthful gentleness with her sharp features and sharp planes.
Well, Granger. You're an old woman now.
She chuckled, watching her mouth curve differently than she was accustomed to. Laughing harder, she dropped to the toilet seat and watched the way her mouth moved, and the way the tear that escaped her eye fell to her cheek.
"I'm not crying. I'm not." She muttered, her voice drowning in her quiet sobs.
Damn him for making her wish he was there. Damn him for making her wish… no… for making her yearn… to see him standing there by the door, watching her, studying her.
He'd walk to her, kneel in front of her, and cradle her in his arms and drive away all of her worries like he always did.
And she'd drown in him, just close her eyes, and sink into his warmth.
She was still sulking when the swift owl the color of wood landed by the sink, carrying a small red envelope by its mouth.
It stared at her for a moment, its small head tilting at her, as if curious about her crying.
Feeling stupid, she frowned at it, and reached for the envelope.
"What are you staring at?" She muttered, swiping the envelope from its beak as she stared back at the owl. "Haven't you seen a pregnant woman weeping before?"
It tilted its head to the other side, merely blinked at her, and left.
"Owls." She hissed, ripping at the envelope and rigorously wiping at her messed face with her other hand.
And as she tore the envelope free of the note, it suddenly slipped out of it and floated before her.
"Good Merlin, Hermy. We miss you sooo damn much. I know it only has been – what – two days since you left? Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? We'll miss you no matter how long you go away. Anyways, I'm just checking if you're good. I hope you are. And Malfoy too, plus the little baby. Just remember that if anything happens, we're just an owl away. Oh! I have so much to tell you! Seamus has been so sweet for trying to cheer me up since you left. You know, I always get sulky and pitiful when I miss someone. Good thing I have my sweetie bunch to cheer me up some. Relina also asks for you. She's insisting on going after both of you to help you out. She misses playing with you both so much. But, as you know, Seamus darling is such a workaholic. Remember the time we planned on going to someplace like whatnot-land and we couldn't because of a DAMN meeting? Oh, right. Scratch that. I'm sorry. I'm rambling again. Anyways, Ron also drops by here and asks for any news of you. Let us know if you need anything…. ANYTHING at all. We love you, honey. We love you both. Watch each other's back, alright? We'd go crazy if something happens to any of you. Good luck to you and Malfoy. I'll shut up now. Seamus would be here any second now and he'd scold me for making a disturbance to you. But, what the heck, I just want to say we miss you both. Take care of each other, okay? OKAY? Okay. All right. I'll see you soon."
"Your anxious besty, Ginny." Hermione read, smiling at the letter.
It annoyed her that she needed a cursed reminder why they were here. There are people worrying over them back at home and here she was, crying and sulking like a desperate child. She won't allow herself to be dependent on others, constantly waiting for someone else to do something and fix this mess up.
Steady and calm, she stood up and stared at herself again in the mirror. She had decided and nothing can change her mind. Not Professor Dumbledore. Not Professor McGonagall. And certainly not Draco Malfoy.
She had to do some hunting and digging for facts and histories that she may need to know. She'd learned from her eavesdropping from different talks that an antidote is needed to bring her back the way she was. If Malfoy would be bracing all the load up his shoulders, hell, she'll load up her own shoulders as well. She'll have to be sneaky and fast to catch up with him and all the things he already knew. She's good in researches anyway, and studying is one of her expertise.
But before any of that, she'd had to clear things up with him first.
If her husband needs to hear from her that she loves him, then she'll tell him straight out.
But, damn all devils to hell, she'll make him suffer first for doubting her even for a second.
A/n: Whew. ü