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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 8: Goodbye...

AN: ahh!

Chapter Eight: Goodbye…

“For Merlin’s sake Jane,” Alex, trying to shake some sense into her, almost cried, “He killed your fiancé… how can you even stand in this house for five minutes?” Hermione broke away from his hands and stepped backward, looking as if she wasn’t planning to say anything. “Don’t tell me that you love him. Everything he did, it was all a pretense to protect his name… after having your memory back you couldn’t still…?” he asked, hesitant.

Hermione looked up to him, a look of anguish and sadness in her eyes. She leapt to embrace him as tight as she could. Alex was the most real person there was in the house, not even the maids, they were all behind it. Tears fell uncontrollably down her eyes, wetting the cloth over his shoulders. The silent tears came suddenly into sobs. Alex felt her stiffen in trying to stop the herself from shaking, but she failed. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, trying to be a temporary source of comfort, it was the least thing he could do. “hush now, don’t cry. I will take you away from here…”

“… everything just seemed so real…” she sobbed into Alex's chest, “I’m sorry… Just let me cry for a while…”


“You’re a crazy woman.” He couldn’t help but say it out loud.

Her sobs died out after a long moment and she looked up at him, her eyes swollen than that afternoon and took a step backward. “The man I love killed the man who was dear to my heart… I don’t know how I could ever forgive him. But just let me stay and live this farce just for tonight.”

Alex looked at her behind his blue eyes with confusion and understanding at the same time. He kissed her almost lovingly on the forehead. Though the time they’d spent together was small, he found himself so envious towards his cousin like he’d never been before.

Draco always had everything, the attention, the praises, the blood, the power and the name. Especially the name. He, on the other hand, had nothing. But even if he had the name himself and someone made him choose between it and the woman in front of him, he would’ve given up the name. But that wasn’t the case.

Hermione felt sorry for herself for there stood a good man. As good as her fiancé was, maybe even better. But now that she’s unfortunately found a Draco Malfoy, she couldn’t bring herself to like an Alex.

Hermione Jane Granger stood at the light of sun inside Draco Malfoy’s bedchamber. He was sleeping still; she cast a spell on him, adding another hour to his sleep. His hair which didn’t seem to mess up or tangle themselves together lay evenly over his forehead. He was the epitome of sexiness without making the slightest effort. She remembered that morning when she innocently wondered what his eyes looked like under those long lashes. And then all those unbelievable memories of Draco Malfoy laughing and smiling with her came back like a muggle film rolling back and forth forcing tears down her eyes.

It was all a pretense…

Alex’s words rang suddenly in her mind pressing a stop to her movie. He was so right, and the truth does hurt so much. Draco never meant to kill her fiancé; it was she who he wanted to die. When everything went wrong, he was at least man enough to take the responsibility. That responsible side of him obligated him to take care of his name, which he was born to love, and to do that he had to either kill her or love her. But Draco Malfoy was noble enough not to kill her in every chance he had. Yet he can’t love her either. So he pretended to care for her, to act as if he truly loved her. And in fairness to him, he was a good actor. He must be suffering much of keeping up with a mudblood. She must’ve been a great burden. Ten years ago, she could’ve been feeling ecstatic to bring such misfortune towards him. Sadly, she didn’t feel that way.

He really didn’t love her. He was Draco Malfoy he couldn’t love anything else but himself. What would she expect? But she was still hoping and thinking that that chivalrous, humorous, intelligent and fun side of him does exist. How could someone fake those if they really didn’t have it in the first place?


His gentle voice kept repeating in her head since the moment the word came out from his lips last night when he thought she was asleep. And she'd forgiven him much. People mean what they say when they say it behind your back. And it was probably the most honest thing Draco Malfoy has ever told her making her doubt the hurtful truth that he loved himself alone.

The look on his face showed a good dreaming. She had a good dream; everything that happened for the past few days that she was with him was a dream; a dream where she was innocent and happy; a dream where she felt like she was loved and loved in return; loved someone who was arrogantly pleasant and handsome, humorous and everything nice. But now that she’s fully awake, she felt out of her own mind when she felt the strong urge to sleep again.

Last night was the last part of that dream of hers. If she could cast a proper spell upon herself, she would’ve cast an obliviation and forget everything fully and live a life, innocently loving him. Though there was assurance that he was going to let her live long enough to the maximum of the witch’s life span her damned conscience wouldn’t allow a life time suffering for a man who was deeply guilty and sincerely sorry for what he did. If it was Michael who was there, not that he would fall in love with Malfoy, he would be thinking the same way.

So, she was going away. The small note she left rested over the breakfast tray a maid brought early in the morning. Hermione stared at his godlike appearance, his whole body now caught by the light of the sun, inhaling all of his scent. Silent tears flowed from her eyes as she made her turn for the door hoping to God, if she wanted to live harmoniously, she wouldn’t see him again for the rest of her life.

Draco woke up with an unusual lightness to his head; it’s as if someone cast a spell on him. His body felt strangely weak. And he remembered the events from last night and smiled, and didn’t question his present condition. Hermione wasn’t in the room anymore, it was not hard to fathom. She gave off a rather strong atmosphere indicating her presence and that atmosphere was not there.

He stood up slowly and found his naked reflection on the large mirror he intentionally placed upon the wall so that he could check his body in the mornings and in the nights. He looked good as always, he thought, brushing a hand through his hair, trying to pull it back from his face. The room was thoroughly lighted and he perfectly knew it was too late in the morning to go to work. He found his clothes resting over the arm of his large sofa and felt for the small box, found it under his pocket and took it. He opened it and admired the expensive ring with diamonds around the silver band and a large diamond placed at what is supposed to be the center.

Then his stomach suddenly complained in hunger. Draco found the tray of food over his small black center table and indulged himself over the delicious food his resident cook, Anna, cooked. He smiled when he realized he knew the names of most of servants already. His thoughts drifted to Hermione and thought why she didn’t have breakfast with him, it would’ve been the perfect time to go down on his knees, and he wasn’t feeling nervous, after last night, no. And fantasies of different kinds swarmed into his brilliant mind, stretching an inevitable smile to spread across his face.

The plate was shining when he found the small paper at the edge of the tray with his name on it. He didn’t know but he rapidly felt uncertain to take it. He's full stomach lurched and almost twisted inside like the small note contained some bad news…

Bravely, he stretched his arms and took the paper and unfolded it.

It was bad news…

I remember


Draco put on his shorts with pure haste and ran out from bedchamber without his shirt on, his long legs giving him a good use with its long strides. He ran down the stairs hoping to Merlin she wasn’t gone yet. If she was still there, he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t think of anything to say. What he wanted to happen wasn’t even clear. It would come when the moment arrives, he prayed.

The large glass door to the balcony opened wide and the ladies looked over at Draco Malfoy’s indecent attire. Marta bore an amused look, Aunt Olive looked at him with outrage and Narcissa dramatically covered her eyes with her elegant fingers in shame. To Draco they all looked the same, unalarmed, as if nothing was or has happened. “Save me the lecture Aunt Olive,” he snapped instinctively as his aunt started to part her thinned lips to give him his usual lesson, and the old woman thinned her old lips even more. Draco, too busy with the thoughts running up and down his head didn’t pay heed at his ungallant manner, “Was she here? Hermione—Jane?”

“She said she was going to check up on you…” Cissy answered, noticing the alarm in her son’s eyes, “Why? Did something happen?”

“How long since she went?” he asked hastily, letting an ounce of panic run down his mother’s consciousness.

“Quite—quite more than a while ago.” His mother replied with the same haste, “Why?” she asked again, the two other ladies also waiting for his response.

“She’s gone… this time, it’s for real.” Draco answered sorrowfully and disappointed, he was expecting too much for a life with her. She had said she loved him, but it was obviously not true enough for her not to leave. “She left a note.” He informed the three disbelieving ladies, when they didn’t say anything, he turned around sulkily wondering why he was doing so… why he was affected so…

Sitting on his favorite chair in his private office he thought whether he had an answer to his wondering or not, it wouldn’t matter for he’d be going to Azkaban anyhow. And maybe he deserved it. Draco looked up over his father’s portrait which was placed back on its right place an hour ago. Lucius Malfoy had a grim look on his face, looking down his son in disbelief and shame.

“I apologize father… I failed all of you.”

AN: This should have to be the end. But after DH… *tear drops* I think not. I think. But I still have to see. Lol. Reviews of different nature will be welcomed.