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Obligated by rosethorn

Format: Short story
Chapters: 8
Word Count: 20,515

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Drama, Romance
Characters: Hermione, Narcissa, Draco, OC
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Draco/OC, Hermione/OC

First Published: 01/07/2007
Last Chapter: 07/27/2007
Last Updated: 07/27/2007

A big Thanks to Mahal_kita of TDA for the simply BRILLIANT!!! banner!

If i can't kill her... I'll have to love her.

Chapter 1: Stay

A/N: This is my first chapter of my first fic! I’m quite paranoid about it. Revised this chap for like a hundred times and still I’m not satisfied. anyway... here goes...

Disclaimer: I own everything of Harry Potter. And I’m the biggest liar in our school. (being safe… I don’t own anything. huhuh.)

Chapter One: Stay

What did you do?!” Draco Malfoy bellowed at the old lady with grayish hair, sitting in front of him, terrified and guilty.

“Now, darling,” Narcissa stood, pressing a hand on his shoulder, “you might wake the girl up” She referred to Hermione Granger, sleeping on the large cushy bed in the middle of the room.

Draco turned and glowered at the lump behind the sheets, “I don’t care,” placing his melting glare back to his mother’s friend, “you shouldn’t have interfered, I could have handled the whole thing myself! And I could’ve done a clean job.”

“Yes,” the old lady said, gaining back her intimidating superiority, “by killing her, you’re best at that”

A memory of the night nine years ago at the astronomy tower flashed before him. He glared at Aunt Olive, unable to control his anger and aggravation “Still that does not change the fact that you’re an old maid who can’t find anything to do other than meddle in other people’s businesses!”

“Draco!” Narcissa’s hand flew hitting him hard on the head, “how dare you call your Aunt Olive like that!”

Draco sat down holding his head, the part where his mother hit, “Fine,” he said tight lipped, controlling his temper, “erasing her memory is accepted, but to bring her here in my house?”

“Well where do you expect us to bring her?” Aunt Olive rolled her eyes looking away from him as if the sight bored her.

“You could’ve thrown her someplace…” he eased out, face red from restrain.

“You and your so called friends killed her fiancé…” Narcissa voiced out of the blue, “she deserves more than a place like this to stay.”

Draco glared at his mother and balled his fist, “She killed your husband. My Father

“Oh darlin’” the lady rushed to her son’s side, being all too unusual “That was a long, long time ago… I loved your father, but I guess he deserved everything that has happened to him. Everything’s changed now. I’ve changed. And I’ve learned to get over it. You should too.”

Just like his father, for Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger deserved to die. But his mother was going way too emotionally dramatic now. Everyone knows he didn’t like to indulge to stuffs like that. So he was relieved when his Godmother interrupted.

“Oh people?!”

Aunt Olive and Narcissa’s head turned towards the naturally high-pitched voice of his Godmother.

“I think she’s going to open her eyes now…”

The ladies stood from their seats around the small table in the far corner of the room and headed towards the center, where the bed lay. He followed suit, curious as to how she’s doing, silently praying to Merlin that she was worst than she first woke up a day ago.

Her eyes fluttered open almost too quickly as she felt the presence of other people. There were two blurry human figures in front of her. One was small and round while the other was tall and... not round at all. She closed her eyes…

“Hermione… dear…” a soothing voice echoed in the room. “Hermione…”

The name was familiar… was she called? She opened her eyes and this time, she saw clearly. An old chubby lady stood before her, a man behind. “Hermione…” again came the voice, but the old lady was not opening her mouth, so it was impossibly hers. Looking at the other side, a very beautiful lady, younger than the chubby one, sat beside her in what she thought was a bed. The lady reached up a hand to touch her cheeks very gently, “are you okay dear?” There was pure worry in her eyes, but her lips never parted. Who was talking to her? Looking around she saw another woman… She had a large lavender hat on her head with large ribbons; she wore with it a lavender dress which seemed too small for her. And her face was too red with rogue. Hermione couldn't imagine someone like her to own such a voice.

“Are you okay dear?” the voice asked again. She felt like fainting, faces in front of her started to superimpose. But she must’ve been hallucinating things. One of the women owned the voice… whoever it is she couldn’t care less. They were very much unfamiliar. The place was all red and soothing; yet, the feeling was odd. She did not belong there. And her memory failed her for every question she had. She was hating it.

They were talking with their minds again. They always do that when there’s something he must not know of. What were they telling her? Sweat ran down his forehead as ideas came into mind. What if they said they were sisters? What if they said she owned the house? What if they told her she was a Malfoy so that she may live there forever? What if they told her the truth? But they wouldn’t be that cruel, would they? But whatever they were telling her, he felt like he had to object. He was about to interrupt when he found no voice out of his throat and his legs wouldn’t move. What the bloody spell are they using on me?

“Where am I?” the question barely made it out of her mouth.

You’re here in Wiltshire” The voice came and the beautiful lady smiled down at her.


“Yes,” the same voice answered, this time the lovely lady opened her mouth. So she was the one who’s talking “You’re from London. But you transferred here after you got engaged.”

She closed her eyes, taking in what she just said. I am engaged? she thought openning them again, and saw the man behind the chubby old lady, to him?. As far as she could see, he was the only man in the room. And his face was familiar and he looked pretty worried. Last time, if she remembered right, the old chubby lady said she lost her memory. But how did she acquire that to make her affianced husband look very much worried?

“W-what happened?” she asked, giving in to her very heavy lids but not indulging back into sleep. It would only lead her to that boring, irritating darkness.

“You got into an… uhmm… accident, dear” there came another voice, seemingly uncertain than the other one, “a c-car accident, yes a car accident. You’ve been asleep for a week… but you’re okay now. Right Cissy?”

“Right…” came the smooth voice, Cissy, “you’re as beautiful as you were before.”

“Only a little paler don’t you think?” that was high-pitched one. She opened her eyes; the voice seeming to have wakened her up from her drowsiness. Anyhow, she was okay now… She looked back at her fiancé and smiled a little too faintly, hoping he’d get the message that she was okay, no need to worry.

Why is she smiling at me? Draco wondered what they were talking about. Their lips do part as if talking but he can’t hear a thing they say. He looked at his mother, but all she did was smile at him, a rather stupid wide smile. He’d never seen her smile that widely at him before, except when she talks about his girlfriends and getting married.

Oh no…

He was about to react when he remembered the spell on him. He tried nonetheless and failed. But he somehow understood what just happened, there was no mistaking it. Either they told her he was her girlfriend or they were married. Or maybe in between. All choices was as worst as dieing... or maybe not. Bloody hell

“Rest now dear…” his mother said that, and he gladly heard it with all ears.

“Yes, because you’re still recovering. You might even have your memory back by tomorrow.” That was his Aunt Olive.

“But if you don’t, we and your fiancé would gladly help you.” his Godmother said fiancé looking at him giving him such horror.

She smiled again. How could she smile when I am being accused of such a horrible role?! If he wasn’t under any spell, he would’ve done something to wipe that disgusting smile out of her face. The ladies must’ve planned this all along… They were the ones who constantly wish him to get married. But what kind of a very eligible bachelor with lots and lots of girlfriends would he be if he’d give it all up? He’d be one of the stupid ones. He would surely make an heir, someday, but definitely not with Granger. Who would wish to have children with bushy hair and a know-it-all brain?

Her real fiancé. a voice answered in his mind.

The fool.

The one he ordered to get killed with her.

Everyone started out of the room, he shot himself out of his trance and followed suit with the spell gone; eager to leave the room with Granger in it.


The small, frail voice echoed throughout the room halting the three ladies on their way, making him bump hard against his Aunt Olive, only it did not hurt so. They all looked back at the lady on the bed. Curious, he imitated their action.

Is she looking at me? he thought because she really was looking at him. Her eyes begging him to…


A/N: thanks guys! (can i call you that?) for reading!! what do you think? is it bad? or good? maybe in between?? tell me in a review... criticisms are fine (i guess)... as long as its constructive. :)