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Chapter Two: Smoke and Mirrors

"You cannot be serious," Ronald was saying. Hermione ignored him and continued with her needlework. She found it increased her aim with a wand. "You cannot seriously be considering a marriage to Malfoy."

Hermione did not respond. Ronald huffed impatiently and pulled the needle from her hand.

"I'm serious, Hermione, it's obvious that he's only doing this to be a prat. You don't have to go through with it."

Hermione have him a narrow-eyed glare and held out her hand for her needle. "Give it back, Ronald," she said firmly. Ronald ignored her and continued to harbor the needle.

"You already agreed to marry me, Hermione, you cannot simply break an engagement."

When he noticed that she was digging through one of her drawers for another needle, Ronald grabbed the whole needlepoint from her and threw it to the other side of the room. Hermione shouted in indignation.

"It's time for you to speak, Hermione," Ronald said, his voice lowering. His ears were turning red. "I am trying to have a conversation with you."

"I am not participating in that conversation because anything that I have to say will do nothing but upset you," Hermione said calmly. "Now be a gentleman and give me back my needlepoint."

"Not until you tell me why you're going to marry him."

"Ronald, either you give me back my needlepoint and leave me be or I will make you regret it," Hermione growled. "I do not have to explain myself to you."

"Yes you do!" Ronald roared. "I am your fiancé!"

"Not anymore!" Hermione shouted back.

The silence rang in the air for a few solid seconds before Hermione continued. "I'm sorry that this is upsetting to you, and it is to me as well, but I cannot with due conscience decline the truce's proposal. This is not about you and me, this is about the entire Wizarding World. This is for peace, why can't you see that?"

"Because I'm smart enough to see it for what it is: a ploy for you," Ron shouted. "Why are you so blind to this? You are not that monumental that your marriage will keep the peace forever! Neither is he!"

Hermione's face went stony. "Well, I'm sorry that you do not think that I am important enough to aid in the reconstruction of the Wizarding World, but it seems like you are the only person who feels that way. No one else has questioned the legitimacy of the proposal but you, who is drowning in jealousy and insecurity."

"Well said, Miss Granger," came Draco's voice from the doorway. Ron rounded on him immediately.

"No one gave you permission to enter this room, Malfoy," he growled. "Get out."

Draco did not flinch, and did not bow to Ronald. "I believe it is the lady's room, and she may dictate my place in the house," he turned to Hermione, "I came to ask you to take a walk with me, but it seems you are busy." He strode over to the corner of the room where Ronald had thrown her needlepoint and retrieved it for her. He placed it gently on the desk beside Hermione. "I will be waiting for you downstairs."

"Wait, Malfoy," Hermione called. When he turned back to her, she curtsied quickly before continuing. "You've come courting? But we are already betrothed, you do not have to abide by tradition."

Ronald let out a loud, derisive snort from the corner of the room.

Draco gave her a smirk. "Well, Potter made it clear that I was supposed to make this engagement a memorable one, as it will be your last," he said, turning his head from Ronald as he spoke. "I am only honoring his request."

Hermione blushed. "I appreciate the sentiment, but you needn't waste your time," she said softly.

"I never waste my time," Draco said before turning his back on her once more. "I will be downstairs."

Ronald laughed mirthlessly as Draco went carefully down the stairs to avoid the dust. "Oh, how convenient that your precious lord has come to your rescue as soon as you want to exit an argument."

Draco, as he was continuing down the stairs, could hear Hermione's sarcastic shriek. "Yes, because I need so much help to defeat you in anything, Ronald!"

"Hermione, get ahold of yourself –,"

"You know what? I don't think I like you using my Christian name. From now on, you will refer to me as Miss Granger unless I tell you specifically to do otherwise."

Draco let out a low whistle from his eavesdropping point on the stairs. The silence that greeted her response was unnerving before he heard Ronald explode.

"Oh yes, Miss Granger, let me just make your food and wash your clothes and draw you a bath, Miss Granger, or should I call you Madam Malfoy now? Since you're so important now, how can you ever deign to spend any time with such a lowly speck such as a poor Weasley?"

Hermione's voice was unsteady, but she spoke anyway. "I have no problem with Weasleys, I have a problem with you. And in case you've forgotten, I don't exactly have a huge dowry."

"Right, but when Lord Malfoy can give you so much, who needs a dowry, right?"

Instead of a high pitched retort, Draco heard a crash that shook the foundations of Grimmauld Place. He paused for a few seconds, allowing whatever was going on to finish.

"Miss Granger?" He called tentatively. A sob answered him and he was suddenly flying up the stairs to the room he had so recently vacated.

Ronald was unconscious, stuck to the ceiling of the bedroom, his head lolling forward. Hermione was on the other side of the room, curled up on the floor, shaking her head and crying hysterically. Draco kneeled beside her and gently grabbed one hand. He cradled it softly in his own until her crying subsided.

"It's okay, Miss Granger, no one is going to get angry at you for losing control," he said soothingly. "You haven't had time to release pent up magic in a while, and it was bound to happen when you got frazzled. Now, I'm sure if you concentrate, you can drop Ronald back down to the floor. Can you try that for me?"

Hermione, hiccupping, nodded and closed her eyes. Instead of Ronald falling gracelessly to the ground, however, she levitated him gently to her bed and placed him gently on the pillows.

Draco was impressed. Oftentimes, women were not allowed to do magic outside of household chores. During the war, that sentiment changed because the number of wizards was dwindling and more fighters were needed. Hermione Granger proved to be one of the greatest fighters the Wizarding World had ever seen, with such a vast expanse of magic that she could barely control it once it was unleashed.

Already a small puddle of blood was forming underneath Ronald's head, and unwilling to frighten Hermione more, Draco stood and began to heal the mild head wound that he had suffered slamming into the ceiling.

"Is he going to be okay?" Hermione's small voice asked from her spot on the floor. Draco turned to her with an almost angry expression.

"You have accepted our betrothal, am I correct, Miss Granger?"

"Hermione," she assented.

"Right, Hermione. So, as your future husband, I am giving you permission to use your magic however you wish whenever Ronald Weasley is in your presence. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, more tears falling down her face.

"Now now, why the tears?" Draco asked. "Is doing magic so horrible for you?"

Hermione sniffled. "No, but no one has ever given me free reign to use my magic with anyone before."

Draco was astonished. "Not even Potter?"

Hermione shook her head. "He never thought about it, I think. And he was afraid of what would happen when I lost control."

"Well, I'm going to give you permission to use your magic whenever you please," Draco said, unleashing another wave of tears from Hermione. "Now please stop crying, I have a surprise for you."

Hermione slowly sniffed her way into silence and took Draco's offered hand. "What is it?" She asked.

"Have you ever done Side-Along Apparition?" Draco asked instead. Hermione nodded. "Well then hold on."

They appeared in a bare room with nothing but black on the walls. Hermione looked around, confused, before Draco decided to take pity on her.

"This is a training room," he said. Hermione's eyes began to widen and she began to redden.

"No, Malfoy, I cannot let you do this," she said.

Draco stepped closer to her so they were only a breath apart. "Are you afraid of me?" He asked, his voice low and husky. Hermione's face, already pink, flushed even redder and Draco smirked proudly.

"No," she whispered. "But I shouldn't…"

Draco's hand came up to brush a stray hair out her eyes. "Shouldn't what?" He asked, his voice so soft it was almost an exhalation. "Are you going to reject my gift?"

Hermione shook her head once. "Of course not," she whispered.

Draco smiled. "Then suit up, Miss Granger." He directed her to a small room next to the training room and pointed out sets of black pants and black shirts, all her size, that she was expected to wear. Hermione, who had never been allowed to wear pants outside of wartime, took longer than usual preparing herself to go back into the training room.

When she finally grew the courage, Draco was already leaning against the wall in all black, flipping his wand in between his nimble fingers. Hermione swallowed thickly as his eyes raked down her form, taking in the curves that were usually hidden by skirts.

"By Merlin, you are a sight to behold, Hermione," he breathed. Hermione blushed brilliantly, and Draco found himself blushing as well. "Forgive me, I am used to speaking my mind."

"Well, I give you permission to always speak your mind with me," Hermione responded.

"Thank you. Now draw your wand."

Hermione tentatively drew her wand and held it in front of her. Draco smiled bracingly.

"Come now, hold it like you're going to fight me," he said amiably. Hermione held the wand a little tighter, and Draco tilted his head, confused at her timidness. The Hermione he had seen on the battlefield was ruthless, she didn't cower.

"Expelliarmus," he said at a normal volume. Hermione did not respond, but let her wand fly slowly out of her hand and land in Draco's. "Now, are you even going to try to stop me?" He asked.

"Malfoy, I don't think this is a good idea," Hermione stammered. Draco groaned. "I appreciate the gift, but I really do not feel comfortable."

"Hermione, do you realize what happened today, with the Weasel?" Draco asked, his voice harsh.

"Don't call him that."

"Do you realize what happened with that ginger-haired monstrosity?" Draco said, louder over her protestations. "You knocked him out because you haven't let out your pent up magic energy. You need to do this!"

"I can't."

Draco raised his wand so it was even with Hermione's face. "Hex me," he commanded.

"No."

Sparks flew out of his wand and Hermione flinched. "Hex me, or I swear to Merlin, I will hex you," he said, louder.

"I can't."

He pressed forward, causing Hermione to retreat, tripping over her boots until her back hit the wall of the training room. He was breathing hard, frustrated with her stubbornness, but he admired the strong set of her jaw, her fiery eyes. His wand lowered to her chest, and his voice lowered. "I can't help you unless you let me," he said. "This is a huge step for women's rights, Miss Granger. Think of how many women you'll be holding back if you don't do this."

She rolled her eyes. "That was low."

Draco didn't answer. He stepped, if possible, even closer to Hermione, so that their chests were brushing, and lowered his face slowly to her ear. He felt her face warm, the blood rushing to her cheeks once more. He laughed, a low, throaty chuckle into her ear, and sparks flew out of the end of her wand. She closed her eyes and sighed, her breath sparking like her wand.

"Let it out, Hermione," he coaxed in her ear. She sighed again, and this time smoke rose from the floor, engulfing them both. Draco smirked as she opened her brown, catlike eyes and melted into the smoke.

"That's my girl," he said, his wand at the ready. "Now hex me."

Her voice came from behind him. "Why would I want to do that?"

He whirled around to meet it, but he still couldn't see her. "That's the whole point of the exercise, Hermione, to let out your magic."

"Can I ask you a question?" Her voice came from above him and Draco felt uneasiness mixed with pride fill his chest. "Why did you decide to marry me?"

He paused momentarily, lowering his wand. Almost as soon as he did, a jet of light came flying at him. He ducked to dodge it. "I didn't choose you, my father and the council did. I thought you were the best choice, but I didn't think you'd accept."

Her voice was all around him now, filling him up and spilling over, rich and low. "And if I didn't accept?"

Draco shrugged. "Then we wouldn't be here now. And a Third Great War would be on our hands." He found it harder and harder to focus on the duel and lowered his wand. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you don't love me," she said simply, her voice still rich with emotion and magic.

Draco shook his head. "You're right, I don't. But you're my friend, and I think that's the best that we can hope for, in a time like this."

Her voice paused, and the smoke started dissipating. Draco decided to press his advantage.

"Did you really want to marry Weasley?" He asked, spinning around gracefully, waiting for her voice.

"I thought I did," she said, and her voice was normal again. "But the longer I spend away from him, the more I like it."

"That's how I've always seen it."

Her voice was filled with magic momentarily, but a different kind, as she laughed. "He will always be my friend, when he accepts this."

Draco felt a swooping sensation fill him that felt remarkably like using magic at her words. If she could accept Ronald for all of the things he had done to her through the years, then maybe she could accept him too. Maybe being married to someone as un-judgmental as Hermione Granger would be good for him. Maybe she would be good for him.

"Miss Granger, I do believe you are going to do wonders for a terrible boy like me," he said, hoping that could convey his gratitude.

Her voice was closer now, and the smoke almost gone. He could almost see her outline. "You aren't a boy anymore, are you, Malfoy? You're a man, almost a man married. You chose your fate in the war, and decided to risk your life for the greater good. That's not what a boy does, that's what a man does."

"And what does this woman," he indicated Hermione, "want to do with this man," he pointed to himself, "now?"

Her small hand, the one not holding a wand, took his and gently stroked it. He felt the unfamiliar feeling of blood rushing to his face. She gave him a perfectly wicked smile and whispered, "Expelliarmus," and claimed his wand.

"I don't know, Draco, what do losers do when they lose a duel to a girl?" She asked, her voice full of that magic that Draco couldn't identify. He found himself smiling in spite of himself.

"Why, Miss Granger, I do believe you should have been a Slytherin," Draco replied. "How about we have some tea?"

She took his hand again, and this time, she was handing back his wand. "I think that sounds lovely, Draco," his name falling smoothly out of her mouth. Draco shivered at the sound of his name used so intimately. "Take me there."

"Are you really going to let Hermione marry that snake?" Ginevra asked over tea. Harry Potter sipped his tea and placed the cup down on the saucer before he considered her question.

"I've spoken to her and she seems perfectly at ease with the possibilities," he answered. Ginevra rolled her eyes. "I don't understand what this attitude is about," he continued. "Draco Malfoy proved himself to be indispensible during the war, and he has been a perfect gentleman since then."

"He's a pureblood supremacist and a renowned playboy," she insisted. "Ronald is pitching a fit."

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Yes, I'm aware. He is also trying to get me to call Hermione home so that he can have another conversation with her, but the last one ended with him unconscious. I don't think them having a conversation is a good idea for a while."

Ginevra placed her delicate hand over Harry's. "I just want Hermione to be happy."

Harry sighed and put his other hand on top of Ginevra's. "Me too, sweetheart, me too. But so far, she seems happy."

She pulled her hand away. "Impossible."

Harry nodded understandingly. "I know it seems that way, but she told me herself that Malfoy is going to help her change the world, and I believe her. We just need to help other people see that, including you," he smiled bracingly. "You are pretty scary."

Ginevra growled. "I am not!"

Harry smiled. "You are. But I love you anyway. Come on, we have our own wedding arrangements to look into."