Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (challenges & Assignments)

Assignment 2 - Mythology Task 1 - Write about someone being torn between two worlds or forced to pick.

Auction - Day 7 Auction 3 - Red String of Fate

Word Count: 3,496 (according to Scrivener)

Summary: All it took was a simple handshake to set of the mark of the Red String of Fate. Hermione's not sure if she's angry at being a soulmate cliché or that it's Lucius Malfoy she's been marked for.

The Universe's Trick

Doubts

In a Muggle pub, deep in the heart of London, a Muggle-born witch by the name of Hermione Granger sat in the corner, nursing a white wine. She was taking her time with the first sip because she knew once she started she would finish the bottle of wine sat on her small table too.

It had been a long day – no, scratch that. It had been a long year.

She slipped off the engagement ring of rose gold with a row of diamonds set into the top of the band. She twisted it between her thumb and forefinger, the noise of the busy and crowded pub disappearing for a moment as she remembered it being placed on her finger two months ago.

Hermione's eyes drifted to the finger it lived on, looking at the mark around it, very similar to a piece of red string being tied around it. She stopped moving her hand to stare at the mark, stretching her hand out in front of her, the ring rested at the top of her thumb. It was darker than when she'd first seen it. Almost a wine red colour; it had been the palest of pinks at first.

It wasn't logical. It made no sense. And yet…

"Is this seat taken?" a familiar smooth voice asked.

Even now, a year on, the richness in his voice sent a thrill down her spine. Hermione looked up at the man who would be her husband in less than twenty-four hours. "Do you have a trace on me?"

Lucius Malfoy smirked as he took a seat next to her on the wooden bench built into the wall. It was long enough to give them ample space, but he didn't do that, instead sliding in close to her, his whole side flush against her. His thigh, even through his trousers and her jeans, felt hot and comforting. She took a deep breath as a swell of excitement at him being there rushed through her, the smell of his aftershave, clean and spicy, blocked out the smell of stale beer and other cheap scents from warm bodies crowded together in a small space.

He frowned a little when he spotted the ring sitting on her thumb. He gently slipped his hand under hers, lifting it up as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Having doubts?"

"Not about you," she answered immediately. She put her other hand on top of his forearm, squeezing through the soft material of his suit jacket. "I'm feeling a little…" She sighed, glancing around at the people, watching the various interactions; some laughing, some intense.

"You're still concerned about the past?" Lucius asked in a low voice, leaning in as he did.

Hermione didn't answer. She was watched Lucius use his left hand to take the ring off her thumb, his left one still gently holding her hand. The ring disappeared into one of his pockets and he held on to her hand with both of his, a thumb rubbing at the mark on her finger, his own mark visible on his ring finger; exactly like her own.

"It changes everything," he said about the mark. He lifted her hand to kiss the mark, electricity raced down her arm at the contact.

"How can it? You still won't look at my parents, let alone talk to them. I feel like I have to choose between you or my heritage and my—" She sobbed unexpectedly, her breath gone from her lungs at the action. Pain shot through her chest, her heart ached like she was grieving for something, but didn't know what. "I feel like I'm being torn in two."

One Year Earlier

Hermione sat on the back row of chairs placed on the front lawn of Malfoy Manor with Harry and Ron as they watch Draco marry Astoria Greengrass under an arch of red roses. It was a small affair, only fifty guests there, and over the last ten years, a friendship had grown enough for them to be part of the day.

When the rings were exchanged, vows made and a kiss shared, they all stood and cheered for the happy couple. Draco gave them a nod and smile when he walked passed Hermione, Ron and Harry. They stayed for the reception and speeches before the three of them decided it was time to quietly slip away and leave them to celebrate the rest of the day with people closer to them.

Harry and Ron decided to take the Floo, having had one too many drinks for the toasts. Hermione hugged them goodbye, leaving them in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, and began her walk down the long path to the edge of the Malfoy wards, for the Apparition point.

She paused at some sunflowers a few metres before the iron gate, a row of them on each side of the path leading to it, they were barely waist height. Hermione glanced around at the grounds the Manor was situated on, the setting sun glittering in the many windows of the distant building.

"Something catch your attention, Miss Granger?"

She turned sharply, glad of the flat shoes she'd decided on when she lost her balance a little. Hermione instinctively reached for her wand in the pocket of her dress at the sight of Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius smiled at her action, barely a lift of the corners of his mouth. "I mean you no harm nor was I following you," he added when Hermione opened her mouth, pointing at the path she'd walked down, which he wasn't stood on. Lucius shifted, standing side on to her. "I came to my bench for some air."

Hermione spotted the bench, black cast iron, like the gates, and hidden by the shadows of the grouping of trees it sat in front of; not quite a forest, but thick enough to not see through. She dropped the hand, still in mid-air with a finger pointed at the house. She looked at the sunflowers again.

"I was just thinking that it was odd that there would be sunflowers here, so… disorderly compared to the rest of the gardens." She turned back to look at him when she heard him move a little closer. He had an odd smirk on his face, amusement in his eyes. "Am I being rude?"

"Not at all," he answered. He put his hands into his trouser pockets, his eyes looked at the flowers in question. "They were my mother's idea. Her own way of rebelling against the conformity Malfoys expected of her."

Hermione turned back to the sunflower nearest to her. She cradled the head of the flower in both hands, running a thumb over the petals. "I love sunflowers," she said, frowning when she did. She wasn't sure why she'd told him.

"Do you make a habit of giving your back to old enemies?" Lucius asked, the gravel of the path crunching under his shoes when he stepped onto the path from the grass.

Hermione let go of the flower, looking up at Lucius when he came to stand by her side. "Should I not trust you?"

"Why on Earth would you trust me?" he asked in return. He trailed a finger over the centre of a nearby flower.

Hermione didn't say anything as she watched him look at his finger before rubbing it against his thumb to rid himself of the pollen residue.

"Tell Draco I said goodbye," she eventually said, starting to walk around him. She'd barely taken a step away from him when he called her back. She turned expectantly and found he held his right hand out to her.

"I never thanked you properly for the flowers you sent – for Narcissa's funeral," he added quickly when she frowned in confusion.

"Oh, of course." She grasped his hand to shake it.

Both of them immediately looked at their left hands. Hermione clenched it into a fist for a moment, the burning sensation in her ring finger almost overwhelming her. Then it was gone. Lucius was still looking at his own hand when Hermione released his right hand from the handshake.

"I…" Hermione felt her limbs shake, adrenaline rushed through her, and she couldn't work out why. Folding her arms, she gave Lucius a curt nod of her head. "I hope you have a lovely evening."

And she left before Lucius finally stopped looking at his hand.

Four Weeks Later

The weeks after Draco and Astoria's wedding, Hermione found herself becoming restless in a way she couldn't understand. She'd enter the Atrium of the Ministry for work and look around at her fellow Ministry workers, looking for someone… but who? And when her eyes didn't find whomever it was she seemed to be looking for, she went to her office with a deep disappointment.

After an hour at her desk, she would start prowling the corridors with her paperwork, finding all kinds of reasons to… search. For what though?

She felt like she was going crazy.

Especially when Lucius Malfoy started appearing at the Ministry more and more. Always nearby, catching her eye when she spotted him. She couldn't work out if he was following her or if he was beginning to think she was following him. Maybe she was. She didn't know anymore.

It came to a head when Hermione arrived at her office, after the obligatory searching of faces in the Atrium, to find Lucius stood by her locked door.

She knew why he was there before he even said, "We need to have a conversation, Miss Granger."

She felt deep in her bones. The peace that came from finding what it was you'd been searching for in the last month… it was the most relieved she'd ever felt in her life. And it made no sense.

Her logical brain wasn't going to let her accept this without a fight.

"About what?" She pointed her wand at the door, avoiding his gaze at all costs. The door swung open to her small office containing a large desk and two filing cabinets behind it.

Lucius followed her into the room, pushing the door closed, but didn't let it click shut. Hermione ignored his eyes following her as she went about her business of hanging her robes up on the coat stand and taking out her files from her bag, throwing them on the desk.

"I've tried ignoring it as well, Miss Granger, but it will only get worse if we continue to do so," Lucius said calmly. He remained by the door with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Ignore what?" she asked nonchalantly. His light laugh told her that Lucius didn't buy her ignorance.

"Would you humour me and check you left hand?"

Hermione didn't even argue, or question him, she immediately looked at her hand in confusion. Maybe he wasn't here for what she was thinking. Maybe he didn't feel it too.

"Ring finger," he instructed when she'd turned her hand palm down and back again.

It was faint, but she saw it. A thin pink line circled the base of her ring finger, like a tattooed ring.

Hermione jumped when Lucius' hand came into view, holding it next to hers, palm down. His hand was so much larger than hers, his fingers long and slender – no, focus, Hermione. Her eyes found the same pink line on his ring finger.

"I don't understand," she said.

She did understand though.

"You're not very good at lying."

Hermione dropped her hand down, giving Lucius a withering look. "It doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything," he replied quietly.

She felt like he was seeing every secret she'd ever had with the way he was looking at her. "You don't actually believe that rubbish, do you?"

"Of course I do," Lucius said calmly.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth once, twice, and then again for good luck. "The Red String of Fate is a folklore. It's bedtime stories for children, nothing more."

"And yet…" Lucius lifted his left hand and pointed to the mark on his finger.

He didn't smile or even smirk. He didn't raise an eyebrow. He didn't frown. And he didn't give her a look of indifference he'd reserved for her over the years.

"It certainly feels like the universe is playing a trick on one of us."

"Only one?" she snapped.

"More you than myself then," he replied.

"Don't play the martyr with me, Mr Malfoy. You've made absolutely no effort to do better when it comes to Muggle-borns, let alone magical creatures or actual Muggles."

"You mean I haven't made an effort with you – the true hero of the day who got Potter through his battles with—" Lucius clamped his mouth shut, his lips going thin with the effort.

Hermione couldn't work out if he'd cut himself off to stop an argument happening or because old habits died hard, such as calling Voldemort Dark Lord.

"You can go now," Hermione said, pointing at the door.

Lucius turned to grab the handle but didn't open it immediately. He looked back at her. "You can't ignore it."

"I can and I will," she muttered, focusing on the folders on her desk.

"It will only get worse – the restlessness."

"Well," she started, slapping a folder shut after peering inside it, "I've gained some weight recently, so it can only be for the better."

Lucius raised a questioning eyebrow. "The dreams will start."

"Who needs sleep," she threw back.

"Shall I take you to dinner on Friday evening?" he asked.

"I like Italian," she snapped.

The Date

Hermione looked around the small restaurant. A rustic place with candles to illuminate the dark room. A long bar ran along side of the room, with varying alcoholic drinks filling up the glass shelves on the back wall. The other side had six small, circular tables lining the wall, each with a spotlight over it. It was dark and cosy and filled with the scents of cooking coming from the kitchen at the back.

It was also in Rome.

"You're showing off by bringing me here," Hermione commented when she stopped looking around.

Lucius, who was nonchalantly sank back in his seat, legs crossed and hands clasped on his lap, smirked. "You and I both know it is no secret I do not like to be outdone."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she picked up her wineglass filled with red wine. "The setting might be romantic, but the situation is far from it."

Lucius watched her take a sip of her wine, the smirk not leaving his lips anytime soon, and it took everything for Hermione to not break the eye contact, like it was her personal challenge to not back down to this man. And once again, like he could read her thoughts, Lucius let out a quiet breath of a laugh before reaching for his rum, the ice clinking against the glass with the movement.

"It a harmless dinner date, Miss Granger," he said, licking his lips after taking a sip of his drink.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, trying to not let her eyes linger on that innocuous action. "There's nothing harmless about you, Mr Malfoy," she muttered once she felt safe to not stutter on her words.

It's was the stupid Red String of Fate doing this to her, making her feel things because this stupid man licked his stupid lips. And she wasn't even going to acknowledge the fact she seemed to notice things about him… the little movements he did, like dipping his head a little when he laughed, and his eyes constantly checking his surroundings, until she spoke, then all attention was on her.

"There is something very, very wrong here." She put her wineglass down and the napkin on top of the table. "Why are we even doing this? You don't like me, I don't like you."

Hermione stood up. Lucius immediately put an arm out as she stepped to the side of the table. "Move it before I break it."

"Miss Granger – Hermione, please sit back down," he said gently, tilting his head to look up at her.

"You tried to kill me when I was sixteen." She grabbed his wrist, her palm making contact with his skin, and shook his left hand at him. He didn't fight her in the action. "This" –she pointed to the mark of the string– "doesn't erase that, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius glanced around the restaurant, the people watched the interaction curiously. He sat up, not taking his hand back, and Hermione didn't seem to want to let go of it either, and he placed his rum back on the table before leaning close to her. His free hand slowly covered her hand, not prising her fingers off him, but holding it, his fingers curling around hers. They damp and cool from holding his drink but that didn't stop the intense heat she felt through his touch.

"I can't change the past. I can only apologise for it and try to make amends, if that is even an option," he said quietly. His gaze never wavered from hers. "And I also can't change this…" He moved a finger to trail over her own mark.

Hermione pulled her hand away and he let her go with ease. He seemed to relax when she took her seat again. The restaurant let go of a collective breath now that the drama was over and returned their attention to their conversations and tasks.

"When—" She stopped. A lump in her throat and an ache in her chest took over instantly. She took a deep a breath and tried again. "When you meet the one, it should just feel right. There shouldn't be any doubts."

A sadness seemed to come over Lucius, deep in his grey eyes. "I wish it wasn't this way."

"Of course you do," she said with a derisive laugh.

"Not for me. For you."

She sighed. "I'm scared."

He held his hand out to her. "I've got you."

Doubts Continued

Hermione stared at the crowd of people in the pub, feeling claustrophobic. She wiped away a tear, ducking her head down before someone saw. "I hate how much I love you," she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back, nudging her with her shoulder. She laughed, despite how torn she felt.

Lucius pulled Hermione close, placing a whisper of a kiss on her temple, before standing up. He held a hand out to her. "There's something I want to show you. I was leaving it as a surprise for tomorrow, but I think you need this now."

She went with him, leaving her bottle of wine, and the full wineglass, untouched. Lucius pulled her through the crowd, checking back on her every so often. The night air was cool and refreshing when they exited the pub. He'd barely pulled her into an empty side street when he Apparated them away, landing heavily in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor.

He signalled the closed door of the living room to his left. "In there."

Hermione gave him an odd smile. Lucius wasn't usually one for cryptic gifts. She walked quickly, ignoring his impassive face, and threw the door open.

"Mum? Dad?" She stopped in the doorway, blinking rapidly at her parents sat at the small table that held a chessboard. "You're here."

Mrs Granger laughed. "You're getting married tomorrow, where else would we be?"

Hermione spun round to Lucius who was already right behind her. "They here? Here here? In your home?"

Lucius gave her a slow nod, smiling in amusement. "In our home."

"You remember that they're still Muggles, don't you?"

Lucius gave her a withering look.

"Are we missing something here?" Mr Granger asked.

"Not at all," Lucius answered, already pulling Hermione away. "I'll be back in a moment." He closed the door and flinched when he got a punch in the arm. "Really, Hermione? Punching?"

"When did you drop the wards?" she demanded, her hissing words echoing around the entrance hall.

"Months ago— Hermione! We're not children!" He grabbed at her wrist when she tried to slap his arm this time. "In case you ever wanted to invite them here… but you never did."

There it was. The doubts again.

"You could've told me," she said with a heavy sigh, relaxing in his grip. Lucius let his hand slip down to hold hers. "I never invited them because I didn't know. I thought you didn't want them here."

"They're going to be my family. I'll have to put up with it – oh no you don't!" He grabbed her hand tightly when he felt it twitch, laughing.

"They best be alive when I get to that church tomorrow," she warned with a smirk.

"Alive but not necessarily in one piece – I am joking." He had both her hands pinned between his, leaning down to be eye level. A seriousness took over his features, watching her affectionately. "I love you, and that terrifies me."

Hermione gave him a deep kiss before saying, "Good."