Out of Hand by relativelypositive
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I make no money from the use of J.K. Rowling's characters.
Chapter 38
"My Grandfather Abraxas is helping the Order of the Phoenix? No fucking way."
Draco pushed past Weasley and entered the Portrait room. He looked around the dark, gallery-like space. All the portraits were shrouded.
"Which one is he? And why are they covered?"
"They're covered so they can't see each other. I don't want this lot wandering into each other's frames. It would be disastrous. And he's the third on the left."
Draco approached quickly and pulled away the curtain.
"Grandfather!" Draco exclaimed. Even though he knew what to expect, seeing his grandfather under these circumstances shocked him.
"Draco. What are you doing here?" Abraxas Malfoy asked with disdain.
"I'm trying to find a way to marry my fiancée without being worried about homicidal maniacs trying to kill us."
"Yes. The Mudblood. It is unfortunate. I hear she's moderately bright."
"Moderately bright? Hermione's really a genius."
"If she were a genius, she wouldn't be engaged at sixteen, would she?"
"Seventeen, actually," Hermione said as she strolled in.
"You're seventeen?" Draco asked, turning around in surprise.
"You don't even know how old she is? What, had you never talked to the girl before, Draco? That is basic information. At the very least that's a failure of reconnaissance, boy."
"I am indeed seventeen," declared Hermione. "I don't know why it makes any difference."
"It does, actually," said Draco. "We have somewhere to go right after this."
"You're going to use her, aren't you?" Abraxas snorted.
Draco gave his grandfather an annoyed look.
"Look, we need to know when the Dark Lord will be at the Manor. Can you help us?"
"The Dark Lord. Delusions of grandeur. The audacity! Waltzing into my ancestral home and treating my family as slaves! Mr. Riddle needs to be dispatched! And your father! That imbecile! I cannot believe a son of mine would willingly enslave himself to a Half-blood!"
"Yes, I agree! Will you help us?"
"I would not inhabit this portrait if I had not already decided to do so."
"Also, a friend, Gregory Goyle, was summoned a few days ago. Do you know anything?"
"I have not heard that name in years. I am relatively positive he is not currently imprisoned in the dungeon."
"Thank you."
Abraxas gave his grandson a cold stare. "I am not doing this to help you. I've seen you grow up, Draco, and you have disappointed me. And marrying a Mudblood. Shame! You shall be stricken from the family!"
Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her to the door.
"Yeah, thanks a lot," he called back.
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Draco and Hermione "suited up" as George called it. Draco needed a bit of camouflage if he thought he was going to walk down Diagon Alley in the broad daylight. They still didn't worry about Hermione. While the bruises were mostly gone, she was still unrecognizable due to her lack of significant hair.
"Where's Harry?" Draco asked as they left the shop.
"With Claire."
"Who's Claire?"
"Claire is a barnacle. A parasite. She insinuates herself into every minute aspect of your life until you can't stand her anymore and try to stab her with a greasy kebab skewer at a food cart in middle of the park with your entire family and a day-care class watching."
Draco let that go.
"Where are Harry and Claire?"
"On their way to the Dursley's. Harry thought his uncle had some things that might be useful and Claire has a car."
"Why didn't you go with them?"
"Claire. Skewer."
"You hate her?"
"That is a long, complicated answer you'll wish you never heard."
"Hey, when we get to Gringotts, and they ask you if you're a Malfoy, just answer 'yes' without any hesitation."
"And they'll believe that?"
"It's the truth, Hermione."
"But we're not married yet!"
"An engagement in permanent. You're a Malfoy."
He watched her for a reaction, and was proud of her when she smirked and rolled her eyes.
"Sure I am," she sarcastically replied and led the way.
Draco smiled. At least she wasn't throwing fits.
They entered the bank and made their way to the closest goblin, Gornuk.
"I wish to be taken to my vaults," Draco ordered in a quiet, yet authoritative voice.
Gornuk gave him a scrutinizing look. "Your name?"
"Draco Lucius Malfoy."
"You have no vaults."
"I have no vaults!" Draco modulated his voice when Hermione placed a calming hand on his back. "That's ridiculous."
"You do not have vaults. Your parents have vaults."
"I've been before!"
"You have not yet come of age. You need…"
"Oh, that's right, sorry. Hermione is my familial escort."
Gornuk looked at Hermione dismissively. "You are a Malfoy?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, keeping eye contact and trying to look earnest.
Gornuk sighed and made his way to the floor. He led them to the cart and strapped himself in without another word.
He turned as the cart started to move and said, "You realize what will happen if you are not a Malfoy?"
Draco replied, "Yes," and Hermione replied, "No."
Gornuk gave them a disgusted look. "I am not cleaning up the blood, Mr. Malfoy. Do you wish to continue?"
Draco ignored the look of alarm on Hermione's face.
"Absolutely."
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Hermione had never seen such wealth. It was truly unimaginable. She estimated the space to be the size of a Quidditch stadium.
Gornuk was evaluating her. She could feel his beady eyes sweeping her from head to toe.
It was probably because she hadn't balked at putting her hand in the mouth of the snake at the entrance. She hadn't batted an eyelash when it chomped down on her hand and the blood had started to flow into its mouth.
She had just stared back at him, daring him to say something.
When her skin remained attached to her body, the goblin wandered away, having lost interest.
Draco led her through the immense piles of treasure to a large black case. He opened it and pulled Hermione closer.
"Pick one."
Hermione was presented with a dizzying array of rings. They all had the Malfoy crest on them somewhere, but for the most part they were still delicate.
"Engagement ring, Malfoy?"
He pulled her closer into his arms. "Your Malfoy crest ring is more like a wedding ring. They have enchantments to protect you and once you put it on it is never coming off."
"Never? I wear it in the bath and everything?"
"Hermione," he squeezed her tighter, "let's not talk about you being naked wearing only my family crest."
Hermione laughed lightly. "You're such a boy!"
"Yeah, well, keep that in mind. And yes, you always leave it on. It's not really an option to take it off. It becomes a part of you."
"Do you have one?"
"I do. Since I was born a Malfoy I can remove mine. I do not wear it often, but now that it will also signify that I am wed, I will start."
Hermione was drawn to a few, but dutifully looked over all her options.
"Gornuk, please prepare all the galleons in this vault for transport."
"All of them?"
"Just this vault. Leave the others."
"Very well," the goblin replied, reluctantly.
Hermione kept returning to one ring in particular. They were all gold, but this one was shaped into a delicate vine. There were no gemstones, and the crest was subtle, but nevertheless it was a ring she could see wearing every day.
She plucked it from the case and wiggled it onto her finger before Draco could stop her.
"Hermione!"
"What?"
She watched Draco freak out. He clutched his hair, stomped around, muttered obscenities.
"No! You were just supposed to pick it out! Not put it on!"
"What does it matter?"
She tried to take it off, only to find it didn't come off.
"Congratulations," Gornuk offered.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Draco didn't know what to say to Hermione.
On one hand, he wanted to whoop and swing her around and kiss the daylights out of her. On the other, he was scared that she would kill him. He hadn't expressly told her she couldn't try on the rings, but it hadn't occurred to him that she would need to be told!
They left the bank in silence. They skulked their way through Diagon Alley in silence. They snuck into Weasleys Wizard Wheezes and waited in silence for their chance to move the counter and retreat into the Warren.
Verity nodded to them, but otherwise kept track of the few customers in the shop.
They didn't look at each other. By the time the shop had cleared and they were allowed downstairs, Draco was frantic.
He couldn't let Hermione retreat from him!
As she started down the stairs, Draco grabbed her hand. She stopped and looked back up at him.
She looked sad.
But she didn't pull her hand away.
Draco took that as a good sign.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hermione's head was spinning. She hadn't even thought of the possibility! She'd just had this overwhelming urge to try it on! It was pretty and she wanted to see if it suited her as much as she thought it would.
She was looking at her new jewelry, and how it gleamed on her hand, when they entered the Warren.
"Hermione!"
She found herself engulfed in a hug. Draco let go of her hand so she could hug Ginny with both arms.
She found it incredibly comforting. She hadn't realized how much she needed a hug.
"Ginny! How did you get here?"
"Took the passage to Honeydukes, snuck into the Hog's Head, flooed to Fred and George's apartment upstairs, and Verity helped me down here."
"Wow, you make it sound easy to escape from Hogwarts!"
"And escape is definitely the right word."
"What do you mean?" asked Draco from directly behind Hermione. She could feel him slipping an arm around her waist, but didn't mind. She needed the comfort, and leaned back into his chest.
Ginny's eyebrows crept up, but she didn't say anything.
"Well, I am a wanted witch!" she proudly announced. "It took me two days to make my way here. I was extremely careful."
"Wanted?" questioned Hermione.
"Who do you think Stunned Rita Skeeter? In my defense, I thought it was that crazy bitch Romilda, but Skeeter got what she deserved! Trying to spy on you when you're laid up in the Hospital Wing. That was low, even for her. Anyway, I think Dumbledore knows it was me."
"He will now! You should be at the school!"
"No one's in classes this week, Hermione. Almost everyone is in the Great Hall. The protests are being protested, and there are protests against the protesting protesters. If that makes any sense."
"No, it doesn't."
"Well, there were a bunch of Slytherins and Ravenclaws that were protesting that the Muggleborns were getting out of class, or that the new class wasn't needed. Then sympathizers started showing up not to support the cause, but to make sure the Slytherin group didn't start anything. Then other little groups starting showing up with their own agendas. Pretty soon no one was going to class, so the professors decided to cancel classes for the week."
"So you're saying that most likely no one knows you're missing?"
"I'm not missing, I'm here."
"Ginny!"
"Jeez, Hermione. I'm kidding! No, no one but my roommates probably know I'm not there.
"You only Stunned Rita Skeeter? She was covered in blood!" Draco exclaimed.
"What?" Ginny looked startled. "I didn't stick around to watch her, but all I did was stun her! I was looking for you, actually! Hermione was being dragged off by Snape—"
"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected.
"Professor Snape. I didn't know it was her, but she shouldn't have been skulking around like that! Anyway, I was running around the castle, looking for you, when I run into your mother!"
"My mother?" Draco asked in shock.
"Yeah! She was disheveled! I'd never seen her looking less than perfect. That alone was quite a shock, but she was clutching her wand in front of her and looked scared. I didn't know she had any other expression than 'someone smells like poverty.'"
Hermione snorted.
Draco was less amused.
"Sorry, Malfoy," Ginny said in contrition.
"No, I know the face. It's her fallback."
"Anyway, I used an emergency beacon the twins gave me and Professor Sprout was there in just a few minutes. Then Ron of all people swoops in like he's going to save me or something. Idiot. He drags me to the Headmaster's office muttering about losing you," she looked at Hermione, " and keeping you in line," she looked at Draco.
"What happened to my mother?" Draco pushed.
"She's fine! She's just inordinately pissed. She tried to force Dumbledore and Snape to tell her where you went, but they claimed to not know. She essentially called bullshit and tried to Imperius Snape. Not the best move in front of Dumbledore. Anyway, when Ron said the twins were with you I just knew! "
"How did you know about this? The twins seem to think no one else knows."
"Those two aren't exactly subtle. They kept asking me questions like 'how many mirrors would a bathroom need if it was being shared by twenty women?' and 'how much room do you think you need for a respectable dungeon?'"
"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, and Draco just managed to hold in his possessive growl.
Ginny looked at the arm around Hermione's waist and the ring on her finger.
"Probably rolling in his grave."
Draco laughed. "Yeah, he probably wouldn't take this too well."
The group heard the door to the stairs open and a bunch of feet descending.
"Ginny!"
Hermione watched with a smile as Harry picked up her friend and spun her around.
"Harry!" Ginny laughed. "Put me down!"
"Hey," yelled George, "What are you doing here?"
"Don't pretend you aren't happy to see me!"
The group retreated to the kitchen, where they went to work preparing a late dinner.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hermione kept her hand under the table. She hoped no one noticed. It's not that she was embarrassed about wearing Draco's ring; it was that she was embarrassed that she'd made such a mistake. She knew about cursed objects. She was going to make a career out of them.
She just plain knew better.
All she could think of was that she felt an irresistible pull to put this ring on her finger. She didn't know if that was part of the enchantment, or it she just really wanted it. She thought it was the latter.
But she didn't know it would be permanent. She thought there was probably a ceremony, or a hand fasting. At the least a wedding! Something official. Something through the Ministry, maybe.
Was she married?
She was brought out of her reverie/self pity party by George plopping down the evening edition of the Daily Prophet at her side.
"That…is hilarious. Well done, you two. This edition is full of interesting articles."
Draco moved his chair closer to hers so they could read it together. He grabbed her ringed hand in his, pulled it to the top of the table, and squeezed it.
Love Is In the Heir
by Rita Skeeter
A/N:
So close!
Thanks for sticking with me!
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