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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 2: First Morning; Amazing Grey Eyes

A/N: This is my second chap!!! And i just edited it.:) BTW this story is inspired by a book i've read Until You by Judith McNaught! it's amazing.

Disclamer: If I were JKR, Hermione would’ve ran off with Draco and eventually got married and is now living in a muggle town or something.

First Morning; Amazing Grey Eyes

Her mind opened into consciousness…

Then the familiar feeling of emptiness engulfed her senses again. She’d wish to fall into deep slumber. But she didn’t know which was worst with dark, empty and lonely dreams or confusing unfamiliar reality. Her logic was too low to choose. It was irritating; she wanted to jump and shout, get rid of that strange feeling out of her veins. Relax, she thought, it’s the best way.

Opening her eyes, the first thing that greeted her was the color green. The canopy. And it did not make her feel anymore less irritated. She shifted her head to look at her side and if it wasn’t for her weakness, she would’ve screamed in alarm. Who wouldn’t when you find another man in your bed?

But it was not just any other man. It was her fiancé. She would have wondered if it was casual as it is for an affianced couple to sleep together, however, she remembered last night. Three ladies had come with her affianced husband and before he could leave, she had asked him to stay. And he did. She also remembered how he sat on a chair beside the bed, holding her hand. As it seems, he got tired of sitting and thought that the bed was much more comfortable than the chair. She couldn’t decide if she should mind or not.

The situation was very familiar but there was something off about it. Something’s different and she didn’t want to think about those things. Not wanting to indulge into something she doesn’t know. All she knew right at that moment was that she wants to go home… at least she felt like she wanted to. This place was not her home, one of the ladies had said last night that she was from London.

Maybe when she gets well, she’d ask her fiancé to take her back to London.

Hermione stared at something behind her fiancé’s head wondering what Lond could be like. Was her bed at home as comfortable as the bed she was on? She didn’t know… and she hated not knowing it. Her mind was just blank. It was aggravating her. Relax, she thought again just when she had inkling to go wild. Just then, her fiancé stirred from his position making his head fall from his pillow. Now he was face to face with her.

His face was very much familiar. But who is he? What’s he’s name? Her mind contains no memory of him, nothing. Even her own name! Who she was, she didn’t know and it was making her go through a panic state again. Closing her eyes and counting to ten, she tried hard to focus and think of something else. But everything she thought of was just him and everything of what may have happened to them in the past she couldn’t remember. How they met, how she fell, how he proposed, how she got to have a fiancé; it seemed so fast to her.

Her fiancé. There was that familiar feeling again. And again, there was something off about it. She shifted a little, trying to have a better look of his very familiar face. First was the hair; probably the most eye-catching thing about him. It was blonde, a very bright blonde hair, almost silver. Anyone could tell it was him from a far distance. And the curious thing was that it wasn’t messed up. Just straight and untangled. She had a sudden inkling to just touch it, see if it’s real; but decided against it, he was probably tired, waking him up wouldn’t be a great idea. She shifted her attention down to his eyebrows which were half covered by his hair. It was darker, archly shaped. His lashes were of the same color, long and curved. She wondered what his eyes looked like when they open, it’s color. But she’d just have to wait when he wakes up. Moving down to his nose, prominent, she decided there’d be nothing as aristocratic as that. His lips as well, thin and pink against his rather pale complexion.

In short, there was nothing really boyish about him.

But he was damned handsome! (A/N: I agree)

She imagined him walking into a room with his nose in the air. Or maybe not; otherwise, she wouldn’t have fallen for him. Every woman would’ve been dreaming about him while every man would sulk with envy. What could’ve happened to those ladies who fantasized about him, she wondered. They must’ve hated her; for she must’ve been the luckiest girl among them all. But was she one of those girls who fantasize about him?

She smiled as a thought came into mind. Surely his looks weren’t enough bases for her to accept a proposal of marriage! She would’ve loved him and vise versa. He would’ve had a hard time earning himself a kiss. He would’ve asked her to marry him in the simplest way. Like falling down on one knee and confessing an everlasting love.

He does love me, right?

He stayed with her all throughout the night. Plus he was still holding her hand, but only loosely now. That was enough evidence of his love.

The thought made her feel ecstatic. Carried away, she broke free of his hand and pushed the covers from her and sat up straight. The view in front of her made her jaw drop exaggeratedly down to her hands. Apparently, her fiancé was not just handsome. Her fiancé was handsome and rich! If her memory, which was too weak at the moment, serves her right, this was his house. But something as big a room like the one she’s in couldn’t be fitted into just a house. She was most probably in a mansion and there must be numbers of other rooms as big as this one.

Suddenly she didn’t want to leave for London no more…

Still on his working clothes, clothes he uncomfortably slept in, Draco went out to the long corridor heading for his aunt’s chamber, passing all the portraits of his ancestors. His mind was too preoccupied that he didn’t even notice that they were not moving at all. She’s gone! She could’ve been just strolling around the manor or something. But he just can’t leave out the possibility that she may have remembered everything and it was too damned early to go strolling around. The thought brought his legs and feet to a trot until he reached his aunt’s chamber.

“Aunt Olive! Open up!” he banged into the thick wooden door. After seconds of no reply, he banged harder, “Olive!!” he shouted, loosing his patience and turning the knob open into the very empty room.

It was six in the morning, too early for her breakfast. Where could she be that early? Maybe she knew what has happened and is looking around for Hermione herself. He tried to convince himself that that was the case. Thinking otherwise would only make his spirits low. But he was thinking otherwise. He did feel low but it made him panic all the more. If she did remember everything, it wouldn’t matter if they find her. She would still let everyone know about him, what he’d done. His name which he tried so hard to keep clean in the public’s eye after his father’s death will be dirtied again. Only now, it was not going to be his ancestors’ or his father’s doing that’s going to be said to the whole wizarding world, but his. And all those efforts he’d done will go to waste.

An old man in a dark green suit came walking briskly in the same corridor. His head which was held fairly high had no single hair in it. His eyes were small under such thick grey eyebrows and behind circular spectacles. And his upperlip was no where to be seen behind his beard giving him an over all funny look, only none was laughing. He was Hitchens, from a muggle family of Isla Black’s husband, who eventually was removed from the family tree. Hitchens was Draco Malfoy’s butler. After the war, drastic changes happened. The most drastic was the S.P.E.W. department at the Ministry of Magic. All of the houselves were given right to choose their masters and choose if they want to be given salaries. Unfortunately, no houself chose to work in the Malfoy Manor or for any of the few Malfoys there is. This drastic change was none others fault but Hermione Granger’s.

The bitch he’s looking for, the one who will not only change his life by the S.P.E.W. department but with Azkaban. Now I really need to find her. Kill her if I should.

The old man, when he saw Draco, smiled widely, revealing complementary white teeth. “Good morning, my lord, you’re quite early today.”

“Yes… Have you seen a girl with long, wavy, brown hair around?” Draco asked, neither returning the greeting nor the smile.

Hitchens laced his wrinkled fingers together in front of him and briefly looked up at the high ceiling as if thinking, “A pretty girl?” he asked.

Draco’s hope that she was just strolling around went higher. He conjured an image of Granger’s face in his mind and though he didn’t really want to admit it, he had to for it was not easy to look for someone in such a large place. “Yes, she’s rather p-pretty.”

“Oh, I always think pretty people are easier to find here in this place,” the butler pontificated, which pushed Draco close to his edge, “well, let me see,” the old man looked out again, the longer he was thinking the higher Draco hoped and the more he was getting impatient.

“Well??” he breathed, tapping his shoe on the floor.

“No. I’m sorry, m’lord, but I haven’t seen a pretty girl around. Although you’re mother is pretty but she’s not a gi—“

“Where’s mother?” he cut in, trying his best to suppress his anger with the butler for wasting his time.

“Oh you’re mother!” Hitchen’s eyes went big behind his spectacles with delight at the mention, “I don’t know where she is. But I did see your Aunt Olive a couple of minutes ago… heading for breakfast I imagine. But where could your mother be…”

Draco Malfoy didn’t stay for Hitchens to finish that last sentence and ran for the large balcony of the manor to the third floor east wing, and he was currently in the second floor north wing.

It was long since the sun had risen, she was the first to arrive at that magnificent balcony. The sun had illuminated the garden below; the flowers appeared to glow with various colors with a little touch of gold. Beyond that was a large field of yellow flowers, shining with dew, the view that attracted her to the balcony in the first place. The most magnificent was the old fountain down below that itched her legs to find her way down and out from the manor to the gardens. But before she could do that, two ladies came in from the large glass doors to the balcony.

It was that old lady with large hat from last night and a little bit younger lady with the lovely voice. Hermione ended up sitting around the small table in balcony with the women, and talked about hearing her voice but not seeing her mouth open. The long-haired lady laughed gently along with the lady with the large hat, now it was colored white, along with her dress. The long-haired lady said she might just be hallucinating things; it was possible with her condition. Both ladies smiled warmly at her.

Breakfast was served after that by two women in their mid-thirties wearing white dress that hanged below their knees. Hermione was offered tea and gladly accepted with a thank you and an amiable smile. After the women were dismissed, Hermione looked at the two ladies in front of her. They were looking at the scenery beyond the balcony just as she had a while ago, she almost didn’t want to disturb them, but she had to for her mind was bugging her.

“Ma’am…?” she called out to either of them and they paid heed.

“Yes dear?” the lady with the lovely voice asked, holding the small cup of tea in her hands.

“I don’t want to be rude by asking this but…” she hesitated and smiled at herself, “who are you?”

The lovely old lady with the long white hair almost threw back her head and laughed. “Sorry, we did not introduce ourselves! I forgot," she touched her temples with her hand and calmed herself. “I’m Narcissa Malfoy,” she stretched her frail, old but elegant hand over the small table in between them, “Your fiancé’s mother.” Hermione took it with her own.

“Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Malfoy,” she smiled and felt like she had to introduce herself, “I’m…” she left that hanging though, immediately feeling panicky not remembering what her name was; Narcissa’s joyful eyes were replaced with pity.

“You are Hermione Jane Granger.” The lady supplied and Hermione felt glad and smiled, she continued, “Please do call me Cissy”

“Thank you Cissy, I am Hermione Jane Granger” she smiled weakly, letting go of the handshake, feeling a little comfort in pronouncing her name, brushing a finger up under her eye where a small tear stayed. She thought how silly it was to cry over such a petty thing. Then the lady with the large hat introduced herself.

“I’m Marta. Draco calls me Godmother ‘cause I told him to. So I want you to call me Godmother too.”

“Yes Godmother.” Hermione smiled cordially raising her tea cup and curtly nodding her head, “So my fiancé is Draco Malfoy right?” she asked for confirmation for she doubted if she heard both familiar names right.

“Yes, and speaking of him,” Nacissa said in her soft voice looking at Hermione, “where is he?”

“He was still sleeping when I left, I didn’t want to wake him up.”

“Well, that’s a good choice…” Hermione almost jumped with surprise at the sudden appearance of that chubby old lady, “you wouldn’t remember but he is not very good at mornings. I’m Olive, Draco calls me Aunt Olive so please do call me the same way.”

“Good morning Aunt Olive… and thank you for reminding me.” She smiled and sipped at her tea, calming her nerves down. Everything seemed to scare her a lot since last night.

Looking around, she thought how impossible it was to forget such a place. Hermione voiced her thoughts and Aunt Olive immediately assured her that everything would come back to her soon.

Hermione was about to ask yet another question when the glass door nearly smashed open. Before it was a tall man, in crumpled long sleeves, his long platinum hair was wet with sweat and he was panting. Draco Malfoy shocked the three old women and the girl behind his Aunt Olive, especially when he suddenly cried out:

She’s gone!

Draco Malfoy cried with suspense and worry in his eyes, one identical worry of last night. The three old ladies were shocked while Hermione felt a little guilty. He was definitely looking for her, and she shouldn’t have wandered around without telling him, at least letting him know she was okay.

She shifted from her position behind Aunt Olive’s seat so that her affianced husband got the better view of her. When he saw her, a faint red rushed up his pale cheeks.

“Sorry…?” she smiled guiltily at him. He brushed up his hair back neatly and tried to straighten his sleeves, gaining a lean, solid posture.

“You’re here” he said in a very deep voice, his eyes directed to whatever it is in her hair. The sweaty kinda funny man a while ago was gone… He stepped backward behind the door and was gone out of sight without any other word. It was a while after the shock that she realized his eyes were grey, a beautiful, amazing grey…

A/N: thanks for reading! what do you think??