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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 5: It's the Wine?

AN: Sorry for the lag. Long story… if you’re interested, which you probably are not, you can put your email add in your review and I’ll mail the story. Lol.:D

Disclaimer: If you’ve read the past chapters of this story and finish this next chap, then you’d know I’m totally not JK Rowling.

Chapter Five : It’s the Wine?

We recall that on the night that Draco Malfoy failed to kill Hermione Granger, the moon was shining. It was shining full and bright and so were the stars which revealed themselves to everyone on that side of the earth. Yes, it seemed that there was a magical fairy that scared the clouds away. Yet, on that night, a beautiful woman was drastically sad. Maybe because her windows were closed. But even if she did open her windows and look at the glory of the sky, it wouldn’t have done anything to put a smile on her face. Right now, you might think that she is very sad, maybe to the point of depression. And you might wonder what the cause is for her sadness. For she had everything. She was beautiful, intelligent, single and very, very rich. Numerous men are after her, either eligible or married and all rich and handsome. Those who aren’t wouldn’t even dare and are left only to desire her in their dreams.

The door to her room opened and a young man came in. He came in knowing pretty well what to expect so he was not surprised to see Samantha drunk, lying on the floor in front of the lighted fireplace with a glass in her hand and an almost empty bottle of vodka in the other. At first glance, she looked like she’d pass out but as he sat beside her on the rug; he heard her mumbling things inaudibly. He reached for one of the crimson cushions oriented at the side of the fireplace, held her head up and slid the cushion under her head. Her dress was crumpled to reach up above her knees revealing her long legs but the young man did not bother to straighten it down, the view was too good for him to pass.

Her half-opened eyes stared up at him, in her situation of dizziness she was well aware of what he was thinking. If it was an ordinary night, she would’ve slapped him right across the face. But no, it was not an ordinary night. Draco Malfoy left her for someone else, a muggle they say. It wasn’t a shock, she’s halfblooded herself. But he left her to marry this unknown muggle. And now, she needed someone to tell her that Draco Malfoy was blind, that he was stupid, and that he didn’t use his mind, for she and the vodka can’t convince her.

“Michael,” she called sending a smile across his face, “am I beautiful?”

He reached down for her hair, struggling against the urge to just kiss her and make her feel the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen; “You are the goddess of beauty.”

His reply sent a devilish smile on her lips and he felt proud of himself and realized that he liked her much better when she’s drunk. “Kiss me then.” she said with a tone which is not a request but an order.

Michael smiled obediently planning to give her another bottle of vodka the next night and the nights after that.

He arrived at his office later than usual. But of course, none questioned him, verbally that is, but his employees eyes were scrutinizing. He countered them all with a glare. Rumor has gone out about him being engaged. He didn’t exactly know where it came from for he gave his whole household a strict instruction not to talk anything about Hermione Jane Granger. Whoever did it though, he would know by strong intuition. It’s a skill his father taught him… along with many other things. Like Bravery.

Draco Malfoy spent half of his life being taught by his father of bravery; about having to erase fear, to harden his heart, of being strong and heartless enough to kill. And he was a good student. He had good grades back in Hogwarts so he didn’t blame himself for not learning what his father was teaching him. When a student is intelligent but can’t learn just one simple lesson, then there must be something wrong with the teacher. That was what he remembered whenever he fails at something academic.

Lucius Malfoy was a lousy teacher. At that moment, that was what Draco Malfoy didn’t like about his father. In fact, he hated his father for that. Lucius was the cause of his sudden misfortune. He liked to think it was Hermione’s fault but no. It’s his father’s fault.

The first night he could’ve benefited from his father’s supposedly excellent teachings was the night Dumbledor died. Draco was on his way to the tower when he slipped over the mudblood Granger’s unconscious body. It was dim but her hair was too frizzy against the luminance of the moon to be missed.

He was disappointed to find her alive, but he was happy enough to see her knocked out. So he pulled her into a dark corner and left her there where no one could possibly see. When he reached the tower, he was pretty disturbed. He couldn’t convince himself that he could kill Dumbledor when he didn’t even bother to kill Hermione Granger.

Last night was much like the night of Dumbledor’s death. It was not her hair that gave her off, but her porcelain like skin that shone under the moon’s light. Her lashes, just like before, were long and dark against her cheeks. Her steady breathing rhyming with the fast beat of his heart. He stopped midway through the curse, dropped his hand to his side. And in a moment or two, her pale lips curved into a soft smile. A smile which made him realize that he couldn’t kill her. And that second time around, It’s father’s fault. it’s not his father’s fault.

Narcissa Malfoy bought Hermione a dress that afternoon and gave it to her just before dinner. Hermione thought it was beautiful but was entirely confused for what it’s for.

“Draco sent a note; you two will have dinner together.” Cissy said smiling differently as she always does, “I’ll have someone help you dress up, okay?” the old lady didn’t wait for a reply and went out of the room. A maid went in before the door hardly closed behind Cissy.

Betty came in with a wide nervous grin, though Hermione didn’t know why. She thought she was the only one nervous. Imagine having dinner with a man whom you don’t remember loving but love him anyways. Her first dinner with him. And Draco requested it. Days ago, it would’ve been unbelievable but since that morning it was quite heart pumping (?), believable at the same time confusing. Had she loved her fiancé before she realized he had massive mood swings? Or did she love him in spite of that?

It was only once that he kissed her, and it felt like he was just showing her off to his cousin. And it didn’t feel good at all. Tonight, it’d be just the two of them. There will be none to show off to except those strange portraits of people who looks at her with following eyes. Would he kiss me? She thought to herself, digging in her brain a memory that of her and her fiancé before the accident. There was none but that kiss in his library. Would he tell me that he loves me? she asked to herself. But if he would, what would she say?

Draco arrived early that evening to be dragged by invisible hands. He was pretty exhausted and he couldn’t fight with the unexpected welcome. All he did was complain with his mouth but mostly he just let himself be dragged. He knew he was safe because he knew whose strong hands they belong to. But not knowing what they’re up to, he was a bit nervous; they’re always up to no good for him.

Finally, a door opened in front of him and he was roughly shoved in ruthlessly wrinkling his properly ironed, long-sleeved, white, muggle collared shirt than it already had been. A small flick caused it to return to its regal look. Satisfied, he shifted hi attention towards his surroundings. It looked like the dungeons with the dark and candle lights. But it was the small round table at the center, the rose petals scattered all over giving off a scent he didn’t really like and the soft tune of a violin that made it different from a dungeon. And the curtains to the large windows split open, revealing the bright, starlit sky.

He did cancel the dinner with Samantha to go home early and rest. Is exhaustion another prize of being handsome and irresistible? he thought as the invisible hands dragged him by the arm to sit on one of the two chairs around the table. He had always thought the old ladies crazy. There was no use hiding in an invisibility cloak when he, the victim of their insanity, knows that it’s them. Sighing loudly, he settled himself comfortably on the chair.

“Okay ladies,” he said to the air around him, “I know what you’re trying to do. I spared her life already… My apologies but I’m not going to cooperate here.” While saying that, he felt for his wand but didn’t find it. Just then, a pointed thing caressed his neck. “Oh! What are going to do? Kill me?” he said sarcastically.

“No, of course not.”

Cissy’s answer brought a triumphant smile to his lips.

“We’re going to put boils all over you until you’re barely recognizable.” Aunt Marta’s threatening voice surfaced, sending an ugly chill down his spine. For Draco Malfoy, death was better than being ugly even just for an hour. “Now, all you have to do is be a fiancé to your fiancée.”

He contemplated it silently. Aunt Marta’s boils are very tricky, they don’t come off for a long, long time and it’s without medications. But then again, Granger is not good too. But we do share a bed, nothing could get any worse than that. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“You will.”

The last word echoed only cut by the creaking sound of the door opening, revealing a nervous, smiling lady with long, wavy, brown hair. He felt his legs being tugged and he stood abruptly and smiled his gorgeous smile. “Good evening.” He greeted without a flaw to Hermione who was suspended on her spot.

“Good evening.” was her reply, a little fidgety on that same spot near the door, far away from him. Her little black dress glittering by her movement.

Does she want me to come over? he thought, now that’s just too much. he went forward nonetheless, “Are you fine love?”

“No, actually I’m not,” she said honestly, a little hesitant smile, “I’m having trouble with these shoes.”

Draco looked down to her feet. Her heels where not that long, but they were rather pointed, and her feet did look like it was having a hard time. He didn’t notice the smile on his face as he consciously reached his hand out as a gentleman should, letting Hermione lean on his arm for support; walking her to her seat.

“Do you like it?” he asked, once they were both settled, looking around the place then back at the woman opposite him. Hermione nodded with a weak smile, looked around herself, taking it all in for the first time. Then she looked back at him nervous, happy, confused and troubled all in one expression. An expression which would’ve made him smirk in a normal day way back when he was younger and he didn’t have three, old, infectious, wretched women around him.

“Are you usually like this?” she laughed lightly with a little frown; pushed a loose strand behind her ears.

“I’m romantic, you loved that.” The words slipped out of him so easily as he slyly reached over the table for her hand. He saw her blush and it made him feel a little good about his ego.

“N-no,” Hermione slipped her hand away, “I mean do you change… change moods a lot? You kiss me and the following day you leave before I even open my eyes. We share a bed, but I don’t feel like we do because you hardly come home. The first and the last time we talked was the day I woke up. And suddenly, this morning we have breakfast together, but we—and now.” She paused, breathed and fiddled with the napkin for a small moment and looked straight at him, rummaging through his soul, “I don’t know who you are. And for the past few days, I don’t know why I wanted to marry you, except from— I-I don’t know who I am. Nothing is familiar in here except when I look back at the mirror and y-you… And it’s not lovely not knowing anything about everything.” She pushed another strand back behind her ear in a nervous reflexive action.

Draco Malfoy almost felt pity. almost.

He regretfully stood up from his seat and went over to kneel beside her chair. Aren’t you the most privileged girl in this world? Taking both her hands and kissing them, “I’m sorry love.” He said before taking a deep breath creating time for magnificent lies to come rolling down from his brilliant mind to his sly tongue. “I was being stupid.” Like the awful drama he saw on muggle television, he stood and turned his back on her acting like he was torn up inside. “We had a fight before you drove off and got into the accident. You don’t know how devastated I had been when you were still unconscious. And I still blame myself for everything.” Right before turning around to face his fiancee, he couldn’t help but smile and he had to look down for a second to compose himself. “And when we found out you couldn’t remember anything… I… I just thought, maybe you could at least still remember me. You couldn’t. And it made me think; maybe when you ran away from me your love for me ran away as well.” Can I be anything better? “It may be a bit illogical to ask you this… do you still love me?”

Hermione stared back at his fiancé, a drop of tear rolling down from her eyes; partly because she was still confused despite the new input and because she felt like she didn’t want to hurt her affianced husband further than he’s already had been. She didn’t expect that exact question, she was not prepared; nonetheless, she had to answer. “I-I really do not know… I’m sorry.”

Her fiancé sadly nodded and forced himself to smile, “Exactly. I’ve been foolish and afraid this past few days… but someone reminded me that I shouldn’t give up on you. So from this night forward, I’m going to make every reason for you not to run away again.”

His last statement was too vivid for her she didn’t realize he was already holding his hand. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t; instead, he went back to his seat with an irresistible smile on his face making her regret he didn’t kiss her. The food was served afterwards and the conversation started to flow.

“Do I have something on my face?” she asked, placing the spoon back down feeling herself blush again under his mirthful stare.

“No,” he laughed, “I just remembered the day we first met.”

“Oh, please do tell me all about it.” She almost cried with excitement starting to entirely forget the delicious food in front of her. She had had a million versions of it in her own imagination but none was as realistic as she knew the real one would be.
(Draco Malfoy braced himself for another lie stimulated by a quick sip from his wine glass)

“Well,” he started and like a little girl, she leaned over the table, “that was two years ago in a café in London. You accidentally poured a cup of cappuccino over my white coat, I was an ass back then so, let’s just say I didn’t take it that well and so did you.” She laughed; never in her million imaginations did something like that occur to her. He took another sip and continued, “I don’t know how it happened but a week later, you called me up asking me for a date.”

“Impossible!”, Hermione’s laughter echoed throughout the large room, “I did no such thing! I—you are not serious right?”

Her fiancé looked at her seriously; she was relieved when a small smile cracked from his tight lips, “No. I was just turning the story around.”

“So you were the one who called me for a date then?” she grinned.

“Yes, as discomforting as it is right now, I admit that it was I.” he replied then took another sip from his glass, “Now,” he stood and went over to her side, “save me from this embarrassment and dance with me.” he offered his hand and she gladly took it.

He had his strong arms around her already when she asked him what they were fighting about before the accident. Her long, gentle arms were around his neck and he really didn’t feel like answering her, but she was persistent, delicately tapping her finger over his shoulder. And at the moment nothing else came up to his currently delusional mind. “I found you with another man and I exaggerated.”

Hermione stopped her movement, removed her face resting from his shoulders and looked up at him. He had to keep his expression as bland as he could to be believable that her eyes were teary. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I feel like I’ve hurt you numerous times already. The accident, maybe I deserved it.” She delved her head to his chest and hugged him as tight as she could. Draco has never been hugged like that before, even by his own mother and it was almost overwhelming together with the amount of wine he drank.

“No, love,” he said rubbing a hand from the small of her back up, “you’re too beautiful to deserve such a thing.”

She pulled her face away and looked up to his beautiful, grey eyes, “Right now, I don’t know what came up to me to be unfaithful towards you. I’m sorry, whatever I did, I’m so sorry.” Hermione stood on her toes and kissed her fiancé softly.

Draco Malfoy, whether it was from the wine or from her soft, warm lips, kissed her back with a passion he didn’t know he had and he didn’t realize he was giving off at the moment.

AN: whew. Finally got this chap done. Feel free to shout your comments, correnctions and criticisms in a review. Thanks!;)