This story has been fixed and I am reposting it, there will also be a new story of some of the scenes I had to cut in order to keep it in the guidelines of the festival it was written for. I do not own Harry Potter but I do live playing with the characters
I
Muggle London had changed little since the Wizarding world was nearly obliviated into extinction. The 'normal' people didn't even know what happened as they went about their jobs, lived in their pretty little houses with pristine yards and two children playing peacefully in the streets; the shops were still selling their goods, the police still patrolled, the churches still held services, it was quiet.
Hermione Granger walked with a purpose, not because she had anywhere in particular to walk to but simply put it as a product of being on the run for so long to get where you are going and get there quickly. The quiet calm of London was unnerving, by this point she was conditioned to expect chaos, she thrived in it; the calmness made her nervous, and crowds made her panic.
This is precisely the reason she found herself inside the same little coffee shop on Charing Cross Road that herself, Harry and Ron had nearly been captured in by Snatchers after Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was quite a bit more unnerving to see Draco Malfoy sitting at a table staring into a cup of black coffee that she suspected had gone cold. She tried to make herself inconspicuous when she saw him, but his eyes were staring right back at her when she looked him in the face.
He still looked ragged, his once slicked back blonde hair was lifeless and limp, his pale skin unusually sallow; he looked like an infiri, but didn't they all at this point? The war had only been over for a week, everyone was still sporting the effects of the war and ultimate final battle at Hogwarts.
His expression wasn't filled with hate as it normally would be, instead, he looked curious and expectant. Had he been sitting here waiting for her arrival? It didn't seem likely, but then again Draco had surprised her more than once over the course of the last year, so perhaps he just needed a reason to talk to someone who would understand and not judge him.
"Granger, do you have a few minutes?"
"Umm...well I suppose so if you need me for something. Let me grab a coffee and I will be back."
The line leading to the barista wasn't long and Hermione had her coffee and was seated in front of Draco within a matter of minutes. Draco was still staring at the cold coffee in his cup when she sat down in front of him.
His posture was stiff, he looked every bit of the Aristocrat he was raised to be. Even his clothing, though it was a suit, stuck out like a sore thumb. Hermione eyed him critically, if he would make a habit of frequenting Muggle London he needed to dress like a Muggle.
"Why are you here, Draco?" The question didn't seem to catch him off guard precisely, but he lifted his head to look at her. He sighed loudly and wrapped his long fingers around the cup of coffee that had not been drunk.
"How are you dealing with all of this, Granger? I feel like I am losing my bloody mind most of the time, I am restless and I just want to do something-anything-to ease some of this energy." He looked back at his coffee and lifted the cup to his lips to take a sip. The grimace on his face because of the cold bitter brew, made Hermione smile.
"Have you ever drank coffee before, Draco?" He shook his head no.
"You strike me as someone who would use quite a bit of sugar and cream. Let me get you another cup and I will show you." She rose from the creaky plastic chair and made her way back to the barista to get another cup of coffee with sugar and cream.
As she walked back to the table, she pondered on his question. How was she coping? She wasn't, to be honest, she was surviving. Truth be told, she was still in battle mode, had he not looked so utterly dejected she probably wouldn't have spoken to him at all.
"Here you go, try it now." She laid the steaming cup of nearly white coffee in front of him and sat back down.
Draco blew across the top of the cup and took a small sip of the now steaming hot coffee, his expression changed from dejected to wonder as he savoured the sweetness of the liquid.
"Wow, this is... good." Hermione gave him a small smile as she took a small sip of her own strong brew. She still hadn't answered his question, more so, she didn't know how to answer the question.
She looked back down at her cup, she could feel his gaze on her as she contemplated how best to describe that she was on autopilot.
"I have been at Hogwarts since the battle, I wake up when I can sleep and I help clean up or tend to the wounded that Madam Pomfrey can't get to at the moment. I helped put the Library back in order and helped identify bodies for burial. I am not coping, Draco, I am existing. Today, I needed to get away from all the sadness and just be numb for a while. When I do sleep, I replay being tortured by your Aunt or watching the battle over and over in my mind. So, to be honest with you, I am not coping, I am merely existing from day to day hoping one day I will be able to cope properly."
Draco stared at her, his own demons wincing at the mention of what had occurred in his home months prior. There had been no way of helping them more than he had, he was protecting his family, well his parents, not his Aunt, and the resulting torture they had received for letting the trio go still gave him nightmares.
"I am sorry that happened, Granger. Believe me when I say it is something I will never forget. I really thought you would die, my parents, and I nearly did when the Dark Lord found out about it. I have never seen him angrier than he was that day."
"Oh, Draco, I can not even fathom how hard it was for you to have that psychopath living in your home."
"It was a picnic, I assure you." Hermione laughed, it was more of a nervous gesture but it at least caused him to lift the corners of his mouth some.
They talked well into the afternoon and evening, several cups of coffee and tea later they promised to come back in a week and 'cope' once again.
So this is how Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince extraordinaire and Hermione Granger Resident Know-It-All and Gryffindor Princess started a tentative friendship in a dirty coffee shop in Muggle London.
II
A year into their secret meetings, Draco was tracked down by his father. The odd first meeting of Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Granger after the war was rather comical. Draco and Hermione still sat at the same old table, sipping from broken china in the grungy coffee shop when Lucius Malfoy barged inside wearing a grey Muggle suit. His silver coloured eyes scanned the shop until he saw Draco and Hermione sitting at their usual table staring at the cups of coffee on the table. Draco looked up and visibly paled, which caused Hermione to look at Draco and swing her head around to stare at his father.
The scene was absurd: Lucius apparently knowing how to dress in the Muggle world and the fact his Pureblood son was sitting with the most notorious Mudblood in the world caused Hermione to burst out laughing. Lucius sneered as he made his way to the table, Draco shrank as far into the chair as was humanly possible and Hermione laughed harder.
Lucius pulled out a chair and primly perched on it in front of Hermione.
"My, my if it isn't the bushy-haired know-it-all Granger and my son sitting here drinking swill in Muggle London, whatever shall I do?" Hermione's continued laughter was cause for Lucius to inspect the girl he had hated for so long.
"I highly suspect, Mr. Malfoy, that most of my know-it-all tendencies are buried in my hair, this, and my habit of not trying to tame it any longer has caused it to remain bushy in order for my intelligence to remain untapped. It holds all of my brains inside my head and it is likely if I ever became bald I would revert to caveman status." The comment was sarcastic, somehow it reminded Lucius of Severus Snape, Lucius smiled at a memory of Severus saying something along the same lines but instead of bushy, the oil from brewing caused his brain to stay firmly in place or they would leak out of his overly large nose.
"Father, what are you doing here?" Draco had watched the exchange between Hermione and Lucius with piqued curiosity, he would never have expected her to make such a sarcastic albeit funny remark in front of his father, nor would he have expected his father to smile and not sneer as was his usual custom.
"I came to drink coffee, even bad coffee, and find out why my son hasn't been home in three days." He turned his head toward his cowering son, Lucius visibly flinched as he watched his son pale even further than he had before.
"I-I am sorry, father. I promise…" Lucius held up his hand.
"You are a grown man, Draco but I am still concerned about your well being. You do not have to justify yourself, I understand why you would seek Miss Granger to speak with. All I ask is that you let me know you are alive. I will not say alive and well, none of us is well after the war." Hermione cocked her head to the side and stared at the senior Malfoy. For all of his wrongs, and there were many, he was a devoted father, this alone softened her resolve against the former Death Eater.
So it went, Draco and Hermione continued their weekly coffee meetings and sometimes even Lucius would join them. The real shock had come when Hermione was invited to dine at Malfoy Manor one evening.
That was the night Narcissa Malfoy made her grand exit. She walked down the stairs as regal and perfectly dressed as she had always been levitating her remaining trunks and told Lucius where he could stick that inflated ego he had and she was leaving for France. She had already emptied her suite and decided now would be the perfect time to leave. Her doing so in front of guests was highly inappropriate, but Hermione couldn't blame her, the war had taken its toll on everyone, especially the Malfoy family. Hermione had really been surprised Narcissa had made it this long without cracking, her exit in the most undignified way possible proved that not only was she human, she was just as severely depressed as everyone else was.
Her exit though had been the stuff of legends and they did not get around to eating the feast that had been prepared so methodically by the house-elves as Lucius destroyed the dining room and all the food in it as Draco blasted the bannisters completely off of the staircase.
Hermione found him curled in the corner of his darkened room, broken and crying. He pulled her toward him and shifted so he could cling to her as a child would cling to a parent. She didn't enjoy thinking about what he must have gone through living with that tyrant. He had undoubtedly seen horrors she could only imagine. Just what little interaction she had with the Death Eaters and Voldemort prior to the Battle of Hogwarts had been cruel, but to see a grown man, who was in his normal state, arrogant and proud-broken like this- was Hermione's undoing.
She rubbed his head and back; she talked nonsense just to calm him down; she kissed his forehead and held him until there were no more words left to be spoken. They stayed that way for a while, neither speaking just holding each other.
"Don't leave me tonight, Hermione. Please."
"I won't, Draco, I swear."
That was the first time she stayed the night at Malfoy Manor, it was also the first time she and Draco had sex. She would never call it making love, there was nothing loving about it. It was passionate and intense, domineering and satisfying but definitely not loving.
Breakfast the next morning had been jagged, Lucius did not make an appearance and Draco was unusually quiet except for loudly proclaiming he was not his father's keeper and he could rot in that room for all he damn well cared.
But, Hermione cared, it broke her heart to see either of them in pain, although a year prior she wouldn't have cared and would have thought much the same way regarding Lucius. Now that she had grown to care for both of them, she couldn't let Lucius drown himself in his sorrows and Fire-whiskey. Instead, she tried her best to make Draco see reason until the resulting impromptu duel resulted in her storming out and vowing never to return.
Weeks went by and neither went to the coffee shop, both dealing with their own demons separately. Hermione started looking for a flat and Draco went out with 'the boys' to try to make sense of it all.
Hermione was determined to wait Draco out, but after two weeks of nothing from him, she took matters into her own hands. She took the floo from her flat to the library at Malfoy Manor and found Lucius passed out on the floor, his usual pristine attire was wrinkled and dirty beyond recognition; his hair was matted, oily and dull and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. Empty bottles of Fire-whisky lay strewn everywhere; from the library to the master suite there must have been at least a hundred. Alarm bells were ringing inside her skull thinking he had drunk himself to death, at the very least had caused severe alcohol poisoning.
Hermione levitated him up the stairs, and after several minutes of opening doors finally found the Master suite. Calling in a house-elf to assist, they got him cleaned, in bed and several potions poured down his throat, including three sobering potions and a bottle of dreamless sleep. It wasn't until he was safely tucked into his bed she allowed her frightened concern to explode into righteous anger. Directing the house-elves to clean up the house, she went in search of Draco.
It didn't take her long; she found him naked in his bed with a busty blond woman straddling him. Hermione hexed his hair red for a month.
III
Two months passed after that fateful day, Hermione went about her life and did her best to forget the events that occurred. The weeks that had followed allowed her to rationalize the situation for what it was: she had been a fling and not just any fling, a one-off cheap fling. It hurt, it hurt so damn much because she had grown to care for both of them.
She rented a flat in a quiet neighbourhood in Muggle London; she became quite satisfied to stay inside her cheery little flat with Crookshanks and occasionally Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville for company. She read and visited museums, parks and restaurants she had not visited since she was a child. She learned to sleep alone, even though nightmares still plagued her, she learned early on to cast strong silencing spells so the neighbours didn't bang on the walls at various times of the night. She started taking a cooking class if being on the run and having to fend for herself had taught her anything; she needed to learn to cook something more than foraged mushrooms and rubbery toast and eggs.
She wasn't content, per se, but she was less stressed and had come to terms with Draco being a complete arse. She also rationalised Lucius's behaviour; Narcissa leaving combined with just barely escaping Azkaban had resulted in a nervous breakdown of epic proportions.
Her quiet monotony was broken one morning when she received not one but two owls. Draco asking to meet her at the coffee shop and Lucius apologizing for his drunken stupor and thanking her for assisting him. Hermione thought long and hard about how she would reply to each owl, she had made a life away from the morose situation and she was loath to upset the balance.
Hermione replied to Lucius first, asking after his health and reassuring him she held no ill will toward him, thus began the almost daily correspondence between Hermione and Lucius.
Draco, she made him wait a week, even if she understood his mental state was less than normal, he had wronged her. They weren't exclusive; they weren't even a couple, to begin with, so she really didn't understand why finding him in that situation has caused the amount of hurt that it had caused her but it had. Her reply was short and curt in response simply stating a time and date.
Draco had been sweating bullets since that ill-fated day, he had been drunk and the willing female had been hanging on him for hours. How could he explain to Hermione he had been thinking of her while shagging the other woman? He knew he sounded like a complete mental arsehole but if he could take it back, relive that day, stop the overwhelming loneliness and heartache, he would. He brooded for a week how he should apologise, then it took an additional week to talk himself out of it. It had taken his father asking where she had been the last couple of months for Draco to confess his mistake and his father's subsequent indignation and confession she had saved his life for both Malfoy men to send the witch an apology. Well, Lucius an apology and Draco being a coward, just a note to ask to speak with her over coffee.
Still, he felt rather petulant to see the owl land next to his father at breakfast with a note in return with Hermione's familiar handwriting and no return missive for himself. When a week went by, he gave up hope she would ever speak to him again, when her reply finally came he felt slightly relieved but nervous when all it had was a date and time.
By the time of the meeting, Draco had worked himself into a fit of indignation–his nerves shot and his courage failing. When he finally arrived at the coffee shop, his heart melted as his eyes fell on her. She was healthier than the last time he had seen her, her usual bushy hair tamed in place in perfect chocolate ringlets around her face, and she even dressed with light makeup. She wore a summer dress, pale blue with thin straps and silver sandals on her feet. Her once ink ridden hands were free of stains, her usual chewed fingernails painted with a shimmering silver. She looked beautiful. He realized it for what it was–she was trying to impress him or she had done so to make herself feel beautiful–either way; it had worked on both accounts.
Draco took his customary seat at their table, not even bothering to order as she had already done so and stared at her. He could see the unshed tears swimming in her eyes when she looked back at him.
She didn't speak but her face asked a thousand questions, the most prominent one being why? She didn't look at him for what seemed to be an excruciatingly long time before she turned her head to compose herself and stare at the other patrons. She jumped slightly when Draco laid his hand on top of hers; she had gripped her cup so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
"Hermione…" Not Granger, not some other ridiculous name others called her by, just Hermione. Then, the tears fell, and kept falling; three years worth of pent-up emotion came crashing down on her.
Draco rushed around the table, picked her up and held against him. He sat down in her chair and placed her on his lap, his arms circling her waist and shoulders as she laid her head on his chest and wept.
Lucius had always prided himself on being level-headed and intelligent. Show no emotion even when you want to cry or beat the hell out of someone. Today he wanted to do both, and not just any someone, his son, his own flesh and blood. It had been two-and-a-half years since Draco had slept with the random woman and nearly drove Hermione away.
His indiscretions did not stop there, he stayed away from the Manor more than he was ever there and he always came home smelling of liquor, smoke and sex. Oh, he knew Hermione was no fool; he knew she had at least an inkling of what Draco was doing but on those nights he disappointed her; she had sought Lucius's company.
At first, he was loath to accept her company, old prejudice and all that tripe, but her fervent desire to debate and do so passionately had sparked his interest. She had become a bright fixture in his otherwise dark existence. Nights spent in companionable silence were soothing each reading in the library next to a roaring fire; her bare feet tucked under her as she read. He would watch her out of the corner of his eyes as her emotions about whatever she was reading flitted across her face at lightning speed. Other times they spent nights debating academic subjects or Wizarding laws she was passionate and it aroused him way more than it should. They spent days exploring Muggle London, her first-hand knowledge invaluable, and he had to admit intoxicating when exploring with her.
Today, however, she was crying, and today she had agreed to marry his son. Today she became unreachable, untouchable and forbidden. Today, he wanted to knock the hell out of his son. Today, Hermione Granger was a fool.
IV
Six months later: Part 2
Malfoy Manor
Wiltshire, England
The night before the ceremony (18 hours):
The clinking sound of the ice hitting the crystal tumbler was a distraction, the burning liquid already consumed but Lucius was in a trance, staring at the long-dead fire that was now a smouldering pile of ash inside the massive stone hearth. He was too hot sitting inside the stuffy office, sweat beading along his forehead, piling at the nape of his neck making his long blond locks sticky with perspiration but he barely noticed; his concentration was hardly focused on anything other than the beautiful woman he had irrevocably given his heart and soul too. He craved her in every sense of the word, like a burning volcano on the ready to erupt, he wanted her-needed her, and he knew at that moment he could never claim her as his own. The problem wasn't because she didn't return his affection, no, he somehow knew deep inside that she did, it was because she was getting married tomorrow. That wasn't really the problem either, it was the simple fact she was getting married to his son.
Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, the Pureblood prince and The Muggleborn, a cliche almost-love story that Lucius suspected was one-sided at this point. Perhaps it had been inevitable that his life would end up this way, he never claimed to be innocent of all the atrocities he knew he had committed in the name of preservation had nearly been his doom but the fact remained even through all the hate-fueled decades he spent trying to eradicate people such as Hermione Granger, he had irrevocably lost his heart to the bossy Muggle-Born witch.
Why, Merlin, why did he ever invite her to dine with him when his son was being anything but a perfect gentleman? Perhaps that was the reason, to begin with, he wanted to prove that the name of Malfoy still held credibility, even after the war he had pulled the name Malfoy out of the mud it had been slung in, mostly because of his own arrogance. But not in the eyes of Hermione Granger, she had justifiable cause to hate him and every other person with the name Malfoy attached to it or the mark of a Death Eater on their left forearm. But, she had eventually made friends with Draco; it had been a long and fight-filled journey but she had done more to help his hot-headed son than anyone else had. She had been his rock when no one else had got through to his strong-willed, wayward son.
Why did he ever engage her in conversation only to find out she was just as witty and intelligent as Severus had always said she was? He could have lived out the rest of his days believing the ignorant lies he had told himself for years concerning the witch, about Muggles and Muggleborns. He could fully admit his ignorance now, she was a Muggleborn witch, not a Mudblood, that alone had caused him quite a few nights of sleep when he realised her place had changed not only in his mind but in his heart as well. Yet, he had succumbed to his weakness and allowed her in, selfish bastard that he was.
The first time she had shown him Muggle London through the eyes of Hermione Granger had truly been an eye-opening experience, to see technology and witness the amazing things Muggles had done without magic to assist them had been astounding. Now, three years later Lucius could admit his prejudice had been based on self-induced ignorance had been completely unfounded.
'Why Merlin, why does it have to be her!? Why does it have to hurt so bloody much!?'
It was not a comforting thought to be sure, but there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop his heart from breaking over the reality of the situation.
Clink
Clink
He fought hard to keep his son away from her for a while, only assuring the boy would seek her more fastidious than he had previously done before. Now he was here in this stifling room, pining for a woman who could never be his even if he wished her to be so and he had put himself into this fucked up situation because of his own pride.
'Dammit to bloody hell!'
A light knock sounded on the ancient oak door, he wouldn't have ever noticed if he had not heard her melodious voice calling out to him from beyond it. He sat up a little straighter, he couldn't allow her to enter, it would only exacerbate his misery.
"Lucius?"
'I can't do this tonight…'
"Please, let me talk to you."
'Gods no, please…'
Oh, that sing-song unconventional beauty, his own personal siren, he wanted so very much to wrap her small frame in his arms and just breathe her intoxicating smell, to bury himself so far inside of her he could feel her soul. Her golden hued bouncy curls always smelled sweet and flowery: Lilac and honey, soft and supple; oh to tangle his long fingers in those curls as he kissed her senseless, the thought alone was making him hard. She was everything he had always wanted in a lady, wrapped up in Gryffindor red and gold.
"Please, Lucius."
'I can't listen to her beg, I will break…'
Clink
Clink
The ice on the crystal tumbler slowly began sweating down his hand, the cold causing his hand and wrist to go numb, he barely noticed it, however, his thoughts were quickly turning to self-preservation. He wanted to apparate away and never look back, to hold his broken heart away from her but in the same thought, he wanted her to patch it back together, to fit those puzzle pieces, jagged edges cutting into his soul, back together. Frankly, only she could.
He was still lost in his own thoughts when the feel of her hand on his knee, the warm sensation of deep conflict with his own damning coldness invaded his senses, and he drew in a deep, shaky breath. He looked down at the woman kneeling before him, a beautiful set of chocolate brown eyes with tiny gold flecks, staring back at his own silver. The scene, while not in any way obscene, made him doubt his own incriminating self-doubt. She had sought him out, on the night before she was to be married to his son, instead of going to her hen party, instead of being wrapped up in the throes of passion with Draco, she was quite literally kneeling in front of him like an open invitation.
'Please stop torturing me.'
He stared back, yet his hand found the top of her head, and she had laid her cheek on his lap. He sucked in another ragged breath into his lungs and began willing his traitorous body to cool down. Her breath was hot on his leg, her very presence was making him more than uncomfortable yet he continued to run his hand along her long curls.
'I can't do this to myself, or Draco and certainly not to you…'
Companionable silence, that is all this was, yet this particular silence seemed almost pleading and electrified, they never needed to speak much unless they chose too and now the silence hung thick as fog inside the stuffy office. They often sat in silence reading long hours into the night, now neither spoke even if the conversation was necessary, the words simply would not come.
"Lucius." the mere whisper of his name on her lips was almost his undoing. He had to close his eyes as images of her splayed across his bed flashed across his mind.
'Merlin, I just want to hold her…'
His hand stilled on her hair, she looked up at him, asking for something- anything to ease this growing fear that she is making the wrong decision, the biggest mistake in her life by marrying Draco. Lucius looked back to the glowing embers and not at the pleading face before him.
'I am crumbling like an avalanche…'
How could he possibly steal her from Draco, how could he ever live with himself for further destroying his son? He couldn't and there lay the conundrum, the sole reason he had not taken her to his bed and impaled her supple body.
"I am sorry Hermione, please just... please go." His tone while choked was seriously falling flat, he needed her to leave, he couldn't just walk away, and he knew it. He loved her too much, but he loved his son just as much and this time, by the Gods he would do the right thing.
The disappointment in her eyes was nearly his undoing, he wanted to erase that look from her eyes and never see it in his direction for the rest of eternity. He watched her through lidded eyes as she gathered all the courage a Gryffindor such as she could muster and stood to leave the room.
The sudden loss of her warmth against him was devastating.
'This is hell, I have died, and I am destined to live in this torturous hell for all of eternity... my penance for being the arrogant bastard I have always been.'
Lucius threw his head back against the dark leather wingback chair he was sitting in, practically willing the world to dissolve and make this pain vanish. He would do this, he had to do this! Dammit, he didn't want to do this!
Hermione stood watching the usually stoic man reigning in his emotions, he was an enigma, his usual witty and intelligent demeanour was dimmed. The selfish part of her secretly hoped it was because of her, after all, who didn't wish to be desired by the object of their affections? He was more charming than she could have ever imagined, his cold aristocratic airs usually gave way to excitement when he spoke on subjects he was particularly keen on, which to be honest was a fair few things. His eyes would light up in anticipation every time she brought up a subject he enjoyed, his calculated movements often became animated, his pale skin giving way to a faint flush across his cheeks, he was, simply put, gorgeous in every way, and Merlin did she love him.
He was dark even if he looked like an angel he was anything but an angel; he was a former Death Eater; he didn't deny it, she would have been extremely off-put by it if he had and likely wouldn't have given him the time of day if he had tried to sweep his discretions under the rug. But, he had not; he had confessed his sins and asked for her forgiveness; it had taken a while for her to accept but she had.
His bout of melancholy had driven him to the brink of madness after the war, that with his heavy drinking had caused Hermione a great amount of grief the first few times she had to pick him up from the floor of Malfoy Manor, what started off as her trying to surprise Draco by visiting unannounced, had become her trying to rescue Lucius from killing himself. It only seemed to increase with Narcissa's departure a year after the war, her ultimate betrayal when she left to go to her longtime lover had sent Lucius down a rabbit hole of self-destruction It had not been easy to get close to the man, he wanted nothing to do with her, but after having to clean vomit off of his hair and face a few times he finally spoke to her.
Life had been harder then, tensions were still raging from the war. Lucius looked the same as the last time she had seen him, albeit cleaner but still bedraggled by the events of the war. He had eyed her the entire time he had been at the coffee shop, his piercing stares unnerved her then, now she wanted his undivided attention. The first time she saw Lucius after the war he sneered at her, old prejudice and lack of respect on her part had not endeared the man to her either. His first comment was directed to her still bushy hair if it had not been for her laughing at his off-handed remark and her telling him she thought all of her intelligence was buried in the mess somewhere in the mass atop her head she would have missed his intrigued smile. Sometime over the course of three years, they had become comfortable with each other, talking to him had been surprisingly easy. Lucius was intelligent, albeit arrogant and proud, still, he was not an ignorant man. It was a rather recent development to realize she was hopelessly and maddeningly in love with him; the fact was indisputable. For all reasons she knew she shouldn't have fallen in love with the dark Adonis, she knew she had, now looking at him it was clear he didn't feel the same way or he was hiding it. Her acceptance of Draco's marriage proposal had caused a small rift between herself and Lucius even if she had smiled and kissed her cheek in congratulations, she had known then much as she knew now she wanted the elder Malfoy instead. It had taken almost three months for him to become less formal with her again; she had missed his sarcastic humour, his proud and intelligent conversion, hell, she had just missed him altogether. She breathed a very audible sigh of release when he broke the self-imposed sabbatical; she had missed him terribly. The loneliness she felt those months without him, had overwhelmed her, she had stopped doing anything but working and sleeping, even her cat had felt the loss of his usually cheerful master.
There had been many nights since then she had been left alone to ponder Draco's sneakiness after that first night she tried to surprise him, Hermione still wondered if there was something going on, someone else she wouldn't even try to compete with. She loved Draco very much; she had for a very long time, since they were kids probably, his own demons had called to hers after the war; they shared many late nights drinking coffee in Muggle London just to escape the stifling calm the war had wrought in their society. It hadn't been an easy reunion, not by a long shot, they had still hated each other then but just getting away had been a blessing. She still wondered how he had found her at that coffee shop, to begin with, it is a secret he never told her and she never asked.
It had not stopped them from using each other to drown the memories and pain; it had just been a convenient distraction at first, a way to calm the residual darkness lurking on the edge of consciousness until he strayed, she damned near did not forgive him. The total shock had been when Lucius invited her to dinner, she had been fully unprepared for the invitation but had accepted even though it meant traversing Malfoy Manor again.
Draco, even being her fiance' had grown more distant during those trying months that Lucius backed away from her. Her growing suspicions that he was seeing someone else couldn't be alleviated no matter how much she tried to rationalize his behaviour. When Lucius had finally spoken to her again the happiness she should have experienced with Draco was resting in the palm of Lucius' hand. Now she was standing here in his office, questioning marriage vows that were to occur less than eighteen hours away.
'But if I don't tell him I will regret it… I love him so bloody much'.
No one would understand, and honestly, they could go to hell, they didn't have to agree or even like it, this was her life. Even though she was a Gryffindor with strong values and more reckless bravery than anyone needed, she was human and her heart was screaming out for this man before her; flaws and all- she loved him more than she ever thought was humanly possible to do so.
'Will he punish me if I kiss him? I have to at least try! What if I am making a colossal mistake marrying Draco?' Her thoughts were a jumbled, chaotic mess, but her certainty about this man had never been more clear as she watched him war with his own conscience.
Hermione took a step forward and gently sat on Lucius lap, the sudden jerk of his head in her direction left her biting her lip. He eyed her but there was no malice, just pain. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gently kissed him; he didn't kiss her back at first, but when she broke the kiss his almost feral attack on her lips left her panting. But, just as quickly as the kiss began Lucius broke it.
"I am sorry, Lucius. I shouldn't have done that."
Her crestfallen statement tore at his heart. She moved to stand up from his lap and suddenly found herself engulfed in his arms and pressed against his chest, his chin sitting on top of her head.
"Please, Hermione, please stop torturing me; I want you too much, I love you too much. I am a weak man but I am desperately trying not to hurt my son. If I kiss you more than I already did, I won't stop, if I kiss you again I will want all of you and for once in my miserable existence, I am trying to do the right thing."
"I-I love you as well, Lucius."
"I know, Hermione. But, I can't hurt Draco again, I just ... can't."
"I-Lucius, I understand." The small voice broke and cried out for him to stop this madness, ripped his soul apart just as effectively as if she had used the killing curse on him.
The quiver in her voice made him even more upset about the entirely cruel situation they found themselves in. He would hold his head up and swallow whatever poison his brain was thinking up, swallow the bile that poured down his throat so he wouldn't stop this wedding from occurring. It would be torture to see her married tomorrow, especially to his own son. He would just add it to the many reasons Fire Whiskey and Bourbon were his two best friends.
With that, he let her leave when she got up from his lap this time and resumed his clinking of the ice in his glass.
V
Thirty Minutes before the bonding ceremony:
Hermione stood in front of the massive floor-length mirror staring at her reflection. On the outside she was smiling, she looked like the perfectly coiffed blushing bride befitting the proud pureblood family she would be married into in little less than an hour. Her long white dress was perfect, silk and lace. Her untameable curls perfectly placed atop her head with a veil that reached the floor. Everything about her reflection was perfect, so why did she feel as though her world was fractured and imperfect in every sense of the word?
"Hermione, you look gorgeous!" Ginny, her Matron of Honor was beaming at her friend.
"Draco won't be able to keep his hands off of you."
Hermione smiled back, even if all she felt like doing was crying
Maybe I want him to keep his hands off of me…
"Here, this is the same tiara Fleur wore to her and Bill's wedding, even though you are not blood-related you are practically my daughter and I will always see you as such." Molly reached up and placed the platinum and diamond tiara on top of Hermione's veil. The resulting effect made Hermione tear up if only Lucius could see her like this, would he have second thoughts about sending her down that aisle to marry his son?
Stop this Hermione! Stop!!
Hermione hugged Molly, her second mother, the only mother figure she had left besides Minerva. She may never be her daughter-in-law but she still loved her with all her heart, flaws and all Molly had a good heart and was immensely loyal to those she loved.
Ginny handed Hermione her bouquet, beautiful white calla lilies tied with a shimmery golden bow, and hugged her after her mother let Hermione go.
Harry stood in the doorway watching the scene before him, was he making the right decision? He seriously hoped he had not misconstrued the signs, he would never purposely hurt Hermione. She was the closest thing he had as a sister and they were closer than even siblings could be. She had stood by him even when she didn't have to in the darkest time of his life and he would always be eternally grateful she had.
Now standing here watching her and seeing how beautiful she looked, his heart clenched. If he made the wrong decision would she forgive him? Yes, of course, she would, but the question should be could he forgive himself?
"Are you ready, Mione?" Harry strolled towards the three most important women in his life. He would do anything in the world for any of them, especially Hermione.
"Yes." Hermione choked on the words but smiled at Harry as she turned toward him
One simple word, a lifetime to ponder the consequences.
Ten minutes before the bonding ceremony:
The air was warm against the bare skin of her shoulders as they walked down the long path to the gazebo amidst the rose gardens. The flowers gave off a pleasant smell around them. Everything was perfect for a Springtime wedding, everything but her own heart and mind that is. She hated that word more than any other word in the English language. Perfect… Everything was not bloody perfect, not when your world crashes down around you, not when your mind is in utter chaos, not when your heart that should belong to the one you agree to marry isn't the one you should be with. So why did the world around her look perfect when all she could see was gloom?
Every step she took felt like she was walking to her own death at the gallows. Every breath felt like a rock being shoved into her lungs, to say she was miserable would have been an understatement. She honestly didn't know if she could go through with this. She absolutely did not want to go through with this.
"Harry… stop." Hermione pulled on the arm her own arm was tucked into.
Harry inclined his head to look at the tears cascading down her face. Yes, this is the right decision. He thought morosely.
"Would you hate me if I just left and ran away from this? I just don't think-I…" Harry engulfed her in his arms letting her makeup tears drench his dress robes. He lifted her chin, a knowing yet concerned smile plastered on his chiseled face, and kissed her forehead.
"Are you all right, Hermione?"
"Yes-No...I really don't know."
"What has the ferret done this time? Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nothing, as far as I know, it's just, well, it's just me, really. I don't know if I want to be tied to him for a lifetime, Harry. I mean, we were only part-time lovers and now he expects me to be a full-time wife. I am not sure I love him enough to do that. Plus, I highly suspect I am not the one he is in love with, I know I am certainly not in love with him…"
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his perpetually messy black hair.
"Are you in love with someone else?" Harry watched as a blush crept slowly across her face, and she averted her eyes.
Hermione didn't answer but nodded her head in affirmation, she didn't need to say a word, Harry already knew the answer to the question.
"Go on and apparate to my house, I will tell them you aren't coming."
Even Gryffindors lacked courage sometimes, Harry understood this; she would break off her wedding in front of two hundred of the most elite in the Wizarding world, honestly, he didn't blame her for running instead of facing that hostile environment.
Hermione kissed his cheek, turned and ran straight to the gates of the expansive Manor house.
VI
One hour before the bonding ceremony:
Draco stood looking at his reflection as a single man for the last time. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact he didn't want to do this anymore; he loved Hermione and had asked her to marry him on a whim. He realized in the recent months he wasn't in love with her. Astoria Greengrass, on the other hand, was a beacon of light into his less than brilliant world.
If only we had met sooner…
It was by sheer will and honour alone he was still fastening his cufflinks to walk to his bonding ceremony with Hermione.
Lucius stood in the doorway watching his son, he was doing his fatherly duty, but he still couldn't hide the jealousy he was feeling. If only he had met with her first, it would be him proudly walking to that ceremony to take the witch as his bride.
"Father," Draco paused his task to look at the patriarch of the Malfoy family, he was unusually still, not that he ever let loose, but his demeanour was off. Draco sighed, his own weariness combined with his father's presence made him sag a little.
"Draco, are you ready to walk to the gazebo?"
"As ready as I will ever be I suppose."
Lucius turned his head to the side, a questioning glare in his eyes. Something wasn't right.
"Draco, what do you mean you suppose? You should be elated to be marrying the witch of your dreams even if she isn't a Pureblood."
Draco curled his lip in distaste, his movements jerky as he picked invisible lint from the front of his dress robes.
"What if I do not want to marry Hermione, Father? What if I realized I am just not in love with her, that I love someone else and I have just been hanging on to the idea I would hurt her if I broke it off? What if I knew she didn't really love me either, and she is possibly doing the same thing?"
"Are you in fact in love with someone else, Draco?" Lucius moved closer to his son, the joy of hearing those words hidden behind a mask of indifference.
Draco hung his head, sighed and nodded.
"Who?"
Draco lifted his head in defiance, "Astoria Greengrass."
"I see, does Miss Greengrass feel the same way?"
"I-yes Father she does." Draco looked up into the questioning gaze of the Malfoy patriarch.
"Don't you think you should have mentioned this before now; the bonding ceremony is to occur in less than an hour?!"
"I will still go through with the ceremony, Father. I won't dishonour the Malfoy name again, no need to concern yourself," Draco sighed dejectedly.
"Absolutely not, Draco. You can't possibly do anything more to bring dishonour to this family that has already been done many times before you. However, I may have a solution."
Draco looked at Lucius dumbstruck and hopeful, perhaps his life would finally make sense once again.
"Father?"
"According to Pureblood tradition, if the heir of a family refuses to marry after a formal contract has been signed, then an immediate member of the family who is neither married nor betrothed must marry the wounded person or a large sum of must be provided to compensate the injured family for breaking the contract. Miss. Granger signed that contract, even though she is Muggleborn the contract is binding."
"So what you are saying is either you have to marry Hermione or we have to pay her? How much exactly?"
"Half of your inheritance."
"What!?" Father, you can't be serious! Half!"
"It is a standard contract, Draco I assure you. Had she known and been privy to that information I dare say she would have said no to you from the beginning, she has never been one to want wealth."
Draco sighed again, he placed his hand over his eyes and shook his head.
"All right, she can have half."
"Again, absolutely not, I will just marry the girl and be done with it."
"What? You marry Hermione? Father, be serious!"
"I am quite serious, Draco, I assure you."
"How do you know she will even agree to do this, she may very well still hate you!"
"Hermione doesn't hate me, Draco and unless she demands half of your inheritance, she has little choice."
Draco frowned at the statement, he was missing something from this conversation he was sure. As far as he knew, Hermione hadn't spoken more than a dozen sentences to his father in the three years they had been together, why would he just assume she didn't hate him. Then again, he had been spending more and more time away from the Manor; it is likely they had at least had a decent conversation in three years.
"Miss Granger and I get along well, Draco. The many nights she was here without your presence caused her to seek my company. We have spent a fair amount of time discussing various topics and I taught her to dance for this ceremony that now will not happen unless I can convince her to have me in your stead. I suggest you go find Miss. Greengrass and her father bring them here, we have much to discuss and a very short amount of time to do so."
"Father?"
"Go Draco, I will seek Miss Granger and Mr Potter."
Forty-five minutes before the bonding ceremony:
"Mr Potter, a word, please."
Harry stopped his ascent to Hermione's suite and turned to look at Lucius.
"Mr Malfoy?"
"Please follow me, I need to discuss something with you and very little time to do so."
Harry was puzzled, but he had an inkling of what was happening, he had seen Hermione and Lucius together.
"Mr. Malfoy, what can I do for you?" Harry inclined his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. He had a vague idea of where this was leading, he had seen Lucius and Hermione's forlorn loving looks at each other. He was also aware of Draco's comings and goings, regardless of his past he wasn't as sneaky as he seemed.
"My son has decided an hour before this bonding ceremony to admit he is in fact in love with another witch, Miss Astoria Greengrass, to be precise." Lucius poured himself a drink and dropped two cubes of ice into the tumbler as he was talking. He was shaky and even his hopeful manipulation of the situation at hand could do nothing to quell the uneasy feeling that he still wouldn't win his witch.
Harry eyed the Senior Malfoy wearily, he knew this was coming, had the intelligence to prove it was true and guiltily had said nothing to Hermione.
Well, at least the ferret had sense enough to stop this madness before they were tied together for a lifetime.
"I also had to disparage him from going through with this ceremony to save face for propriety's sake. I do not, however, wish to hurt Miss Granger, I know she may be heartbroken over this odd situation we find ourselves in but we have a much bigger problem, Mr Potter." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.
Perhaps the ferret hasn't learned after all…
"What problem, Mr Malfoy?"
"The Betrothal Contract." Harry's bewildered expression almost made the stoic man chuckle.
"Come again? You made Hermione sign a Betrothal Contract used only by the oldest of Pureblood families and she agreed!?" Harry was bewildered and frankly more than a little angry, why would she have agreed to such a thing? Harry had been presented with such a contract when he and Ginny were formally betrothed, the stipulations in even the most basic form of those contracts were horrendous. Had Hermione even read the damn thing before signing it!? It wasn't likely that she had forsaken to do so.
Lucius watched the indignation across Harry's face, the fact he was angry on his best friend's account, even knowing she might be extremely wealthy in a matter of hours, made Lucius proud in a way. His witch, for now, that he could call her such, had made some powerful friends through the years, Harry just happened to be the one she adhered to the most.
"It is tradition, Mr Potter, every generation of Malfoy has sworn to uphold the terms of the Betrothal Contract, Miss Granger knew this and still signed it so it is legally binding. The question should be, will she take half of Draco's inheritance or will she agree to become the next Lady Malfoy and marry... me?"
Harry laughed, not a reaction Lucius would have expected; it completely confused him. Harry continued to laugh the more he thought about this turn of events, leave it to a Slytherin to out- Slytherin themselves.
"I do not see the humour in this, Mr Potter." Lucius sneered.
"I am sure you don't, sir. So what exactly do you want from me? I am better with direct questions than Slytherin tactics."
"Your opinion, Mr. Potter."
"Before I give my opinion Mr. Malfoy, let me ask you a question. Do you, in fact, love Hermione or are you just seeking my advice on how not to lose your fortune?"
Lucius turned away from Harry and quickly poured himself another drink. Well, that was the entire root of the problem wasn't it, he knew how he felt but even after the previous night's events he still could not fathom that Hermione felt the same way. Why would she ever choose to willingly bond herself to a former Death Eater, at one time Voldemort's right-hand man?
"I do not care about the money, Harry," He spoke so softly Harry wasn't sure he heard him correctly.
"Hmm, well what makes you think she didn't sign the contract in hopes Draco would deflect and you would marry her instead?"
"I highly doubt that."
"Why? She has been in love with you for almost two years now, why is it hard to believe she would not think that way? Hermione is more clever than you give her credit for."
"I know how exceedingly clever she is."
"So the problem is your own self-doubt."
"Why would she willingly tie herself to a former Death Eater?"
"She did so with Draco."
Lucius frowned and turned to stare the Boy-Who-Lived down.
"I am not Draco, Mr Potter," Lucius clipped tones caused Harry to arch his right eyebrow and cross his arms over his chest.
"Thank Merlin for that," Harry replied, raising his hand to cut Lucius off before he spoke again. "Hermione is in love with you, not Draco. She has been in love with you for at least two years now. I am not blind, Mr Malfoy. I have seen the way you two look at each other; if she doesn't agree to marry you in Draco's place then I am blind."
