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Obligated by rosethorn

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

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

Summary:
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
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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.

“Wiltshire?”

“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.

Wait

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…

Stay


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. :)


Chapter 2: First Morning; Amazing Grey Eyes
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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??

Chapter 3: I Love Myself, I Hate Her
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A/N: Yeah! I finally got this thing done. I actually finished it last week. Hehe:) I just have the time right now that final prelim exams are over!yey! anyways… I feel like it’s been a month already since the last update… yah I just don’t like myself right now. I hope you like this one. *crosses fingers* BTW i just editted the last part of chap 2. Here goes!

Disclaimer: I just don’t own anything right now, I don’t even have my own room. The irony!

Chapter Three: I Love Myself, I Hate Her


“Are you actually trying to get me to marry her?”

“It is a rule that we call her by her second name ‘Jane’. ‘Hermione’ would bring back memories.”

“Can’t I not call her Granger?”

“We can’t let her see things familiar.”

“My ancestor’s portraits aren’t moving.”

“Moving portraits will freak her out.”

“Father’s portrait is not moving.”

“Lucius is very memorable to her… maybe we should move him to another room more private.”

“No one’s moving father!”

“It’s just a portrait”

“He’s not an it! He’s my father and no one’s moving him!”

“Okay, I’ll visit you in Azkaban…”

“I guess I’ll see you there, because I would most probably be involved”

“The rest of the clan would probably be involved.”

“Let them rot!”

“Draco Malfoy!”

“I didn’t exactly mean what I just said”

They’ve been in the study for some time now while Hermione Granger stayed at the adjoined library, reading. After dinner without her fiancé, the ladies had said that they had to go to Draco’s study to discuss the Malfoy business which she can’t relate to. They advised her to go to sleep and rest for she was roaming the whole manor for the whole day. Instead, she was in the library, looking for some books about businesses. But there were numbers of business, which of those were the Malfoy’s she didn’t know. After sometime of reading a book about entrepreneurship, the other door to the library opened. She was still feeling bad about not seeing her fiancé the whole day so she strongly hoped that it was him.

It wasn’t him.

The young man, about her age, looked surprise for a moment when he saw her but smiled without revealing his teeth. Hermione smiled back, thinking he must know her. “Hi,” the man said in an affable tone. She smiled back as a reply for she found no voice in her throat on how handsome the man was. “I’m Alex, a relative of the Malfoys” he stretched out a hand over the table she was reading at.

She took his smooth hands and gently shook. “Hermione… Jane” she said, confused on what name to use for she had two. The man laughed slightly.

“Hermione or Jane? Which one?” he laughed a little.

“I don’t know which they call me with.” She replied, taking her hand, thinking that he was obviously not someone who knew her.

The man looked confused and raised a brow, “You don’t know?”

“I don’t. I forgot.” She said shamefully.

“Oh don’t fret!” he waved a hand as if shooing the fact that she forgot how everybody called her. “I sometimes forget myself.”

Hermione smiled back, actually feeling better. “I have amnesia.”

Alex grew a little serious, “Oh… sorry…”

“No it’s okay. They’re taking very good care of me” she said with a smile.

After that, Alex helped her find books about amnesia and they read together as if they were close friends, when he found interesting and important facts he would read them out loud. It was fun…




His head was throbbing. The ladies had their way on him again; they seemed to be so powerful and dominant of his decisions. Just as they told him to do, he went out to the library for Hermione. Talk to her or do something a fiancé should do. He felt nauseous as a thought ran up to his head and immediately erased it. Opening the door to the library, the first thing he heard was laughter. One was surely Hermione’s; the other was of another… man.

He immediately felt his blood boil at the sight of Alex. His cousin of the farthest away from the Malfoy line. Alex was someone who thinks and feels like a Malfoy when he really is not. He was the one who always blamed him with all the mishaps in the Malfoy family, always finds a way to corner him and put everything against him. But he obviously does not succeed. Although Alex tried so hard to go over Draco’s superiority in everything from women to business, he never did let him succeed. And he never will.

The two seemed oblivious to his presence which angered him more for no one ignores Draco Malfoy. Alex was looking for some competition; it seemed to him, for he saw how he looked at Hermione, like a predator looking at his prey. The bastard.

Draco walked soundlessly beside Hermione and both immediately noticed him and stopped whatever it was they were reading that seemed funny. His fiancée looked back up at him and smiled. And unwillingly, he smiled too with that gorgeous smile of his, bent down and gave her a small, quick kiss on the lips. “Sorry I didn’t make it to dinner.”

Hermione smiled back, “That’s okay… I guess. You missed Anna’s food though. Precisely delicious!” she said that with such enthusiasm an elf would cry.

“Anna?” he cluelessly asked.

“Your cook.” She replied as if it was common knowledge. He wouldn’t bother to go to the kitchens at talk to his cook; he has the butler for that. Obviously, Hermione went down to the kitchens and befriended everyone there for a whole day. He wouldn’t wonder if she’d start another department for a maid’s rights.

“Oh! Anna!” His face lightened up as if he remembered who his cook was when he really didn’t know who she was in the first place. He looked up at the defeated Alex and acted surprise to see him there. “Alex. didn’t see you there. I suppose you’ve met my future wife, Jane” he introduced looking down at Hermione, acting as if he really cared.

Alex looked shocked but kept his cool. “Yes… but your fiancée?”

“Surprised?” Draco asked, proud with a smirk on his face and a little angered for Hermione couldn’t have introduced herself as his fiancé. So that’s why he was flirting with her. And maybe she wanted it in the first place which disgusted him the most.

“It’s just that I don’t see any ring.” Alex looked at Hermione’s fingers which were visually laid over the table.

Draco looked down at her fingers too and couldn’t fail to agree that she really didn’t have any ring. He looked questioningly at Hermione and remembered that she wouldn’t know. But continued nonetheless… “Your ring, love,” he went to take her hand with his other hand, “is gone.”

“I don’t know why… I must’ve lost it in the accident.” she stated weakly, looking up at him, “sorry.”

“No… that’s okay. I’ll get you another one I suppose.” He said while calculating in his mind how much money he’s spend for the three old ladies will surely force him to buy a very expensive one.

“But I feel that there’s a sentimental value to it…” she reasoned.

“We can’t find that ring now. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure that I’ll be giving it to you on a special occasion so that it would have that value you were saying.” Hermione smiled at that and looked reassured.

“Are you sure you’re going to leave your bachelorhood for good, dear cousin?” Alex interrupted.

Draco looked back at his cousin, “For a girl like her, I gladly would.”

Alex smiled unbelievingly but continued, “So when are you going to let other people know about this?”

“They don’t know yet?” Hermione interrupted this time, a look of confusion in her eyes.

“No love,” he answered almost immediately as another lie formed its way up to his gorgeously brilliant head, “You asked to keep it a secret still.”

“Oh,” it seemed that realization dawned on her, “I guess… letting everyone know would be… scary.”

Scary

Coming from Hermione Granger’s mouth, Draco didn’t seem to believe it nor hear it too well. She seemed to have lowered her voice in saying the word, as if she too herself felt odd about it.

“I’d better go.”

That was Alex. The Malfoy wannabe seemed to have felt out of place which was exactly what Draco wanted him to feel. Making him feel out of place is putting him where he belongs. He smirked at that. “Goodbye cousin, thank you for the visit.”

“It’s a pleasure cousin.” Alex gritted a smile at him and turned to Hermione, “and I’m very glad at meeting my cousin’s lovely fiancée.” This time, he smiled that so much like a Malfoy’s smile. Only, Draco Malfoy’s was much too breathtaking than his. That is according to majority of the women. he thought. Hermione said her reply but he failed to hear it for he was much too indulged in his victory.

He waited till Alex was out of the room when he advised her to retreat to her bed chamber and rest with a fake caring look on his face, “You can’t stress yourself.”

“C’mon, I’ve been asleep for more than three days. Don’t you think I’ve had enough rest already?” she laughed, stubborn, “And besides, I’ve read that I should indulge into familiar things, and then I’d recover faster.”

It is apparent to Draco that no matter what spell you cast on her, she’s going to be the same old know-it-all bookworm. “You read?” he asked, remembering what the ladies said about familiar things to her.

“Yes… do I not read before?”

“You know how to read, but you don’t read. I mean, it’s not a hobby. In fact, you hate it.” He said that confidently it seemed real.

“Well, the accident must’ve changed that… I don’t know.” She said thoughtfully. Everything confused her. They were all just pieces of information but no memories she can relate to. She didn’t love reading, but she loved it now. Maybe what she said was true. Maybe it’s because of the accident.

“So,” he started, “the book says to indulge into familiar things…” casually reaching for the book she and Alex were reading before he arrived.

“Yes… and I was thinking, you’re the only familiar thing for me here.” She replied gently ashamed for a reason she couldn’t tell herself. He was still looking at the book, too interested to it she had the impression that he wasn’t listening to what she just said.

She was right. He wasn’t listening, for the first thing he saw on the book was a large picture of a ferret. He was probably too caught up he only realized that she was talking to him when all he heard was silence. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear what you just said.”

“I was saying maybe I could spend some time with you tonight… you know, talk.” She said that fidgeting with her fingers, nervous and not feeling good about having to rephrase her statement which he didn’t hear.

“I’m busy tonight.” He said bluntly without much gentleness to comfort her, only that smirk on his face that looked good. But still, the thought that he had no time for her nor listen to her made her feel sad.

She resentfully took the book from him and said, “Okay… I guess I’ll have to take that rest then… there’s nothing else to do.”

“Yes. Rest, that’s what you usually did.” Then he went out while Hermione one by one returned the books she just read thinking about the false information she got about herself.


It was after some time when he was writing to a muggle man that there was a slight knock at the door from the adjoining library. He didn’t want to be disturbed while working but before he could forbid that person from behind the door, it opened. Next time lock the door. he noted to himself as Hermione’s head popped in with an apologetic smile on her face, one she worn that same morning. “Hi.” Her voice echoed into the large room of unmoving portraits of his ancestors. “Sorry to disturb you but I just had the idea, maybe I could watch you working… promise I will not be a disturbance.” She finished that half way through the room. Without my permission.

With noting else to do about it, he let her sit on one of the two large, cushy armchairs in front of his large desk. He was about to go back to his letter when she sounded, “Before anything else, can I ask you one question?”

“Sure.” He replied without making the effort to look up.

“You seem to be a very eligible man… and as what you said, I hate reading and love sleeping…” she was dragging it the aura of his impatience was oozing out of his demeanor and she probably felt it for she went faster, “In short, I’m dull and lazy. Why are going to marry me?”

Why am I going to marry her?

He immediately looked up from his paper into her devastated face and confused eyes, he almost felt pity.

“I’m going to marry you because even if you don’t read that much, you’re smart and your beauty rest makes you more beautiful every day.”

He hoped that she was satisfied but unfortunately, she was not, making him doubt his brilliance for a moment.

“Another question?” he nodded at her for an approval, “would you still marry me if I start to… like reading and sleep averagely?”

“Yes, that is if you remain smart and beautiful.” He said casually, going back to what he was doing thinking about how many lies he just said in less than an hour.

“So you’re going to marry me mainly because I’m beautiful?”

I just said she’s beautiful two times, isn’t she supposed to be flattered?

She must’ve realized his growing impatience. “Sorry… that’s the third question. You don’t have to answer it. I’ll keep quite now.”

After she settled herself on one of the armchairs, everything was quite. The only sound heard was the scratching of his pen. And Hermione was contented just watching her affianced husband as his bright hair swung over his grey eyes; she could almost hear it swish with the silence; she could almost hear her heart beat after that. He said she’s beautiful two times and she felt her cheeks burn every time she thought about it.

“Jane,” She startled at his voice, it was a while that she realized that he was actually calling her.

“Yes?”

“You said letting everyone know about our engagement is scary… why is that?” he asked, looking straight at her.

Even though she thought it was embarrassing to tell, she felt like she had to make a straight answer, “Because you’re so handsome I thought maybe many ladies would desperately want to be your wife. I thought about what they’d do if they find out about me?”

The once silent room was filled by his deep laughter which unsurprisingly surprised Hermione. Her usual emotion could be either shock or confusion. This time, it was mixed. Wasn’t it a while ago that he was so indulged to his work he barely noticed anything. Now, he was chuckling. “What?” She asked a little louder to be heard.

“nothing, it just seemed funny ‘cause that was the same thought you said before the accident.” He excused when what he truly felt was that how funny it was that Hermione Granger admitted his amazing looks in front of him. She believed him and laughed herself. So I haven’t really changed after all. she thought.

It was silence after that.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Swish.

Throb.



The clock chimed twelve o’clock in the morning. Draco Malfoy was done just in time. He looked over his desk to Hermione, sleeping soundlessly, and headed for the window. He had to send a letter to a wizard and he couldn’t very well do it when Hermione was wide awake. The eagle made its silent exit carrying his letter and Draco was left to deal with his fiancée. His fiancée, who really is not, was positioned uncomfortably over the chair. Her head against the wooden edge of the chair’s back was going to fall soon, so was the shoulder of her long-sleeved night dress; the small cushion pillow which was supposed to support her back was gently pressed over her chest with her arms around it while her long legs stretched awkwardly down to the floor. With her pale and sickly look, she almost looked dead. He stretched out a hand over her nose to see if she’s breathing and disappointedly found out that she was.

“Hermione… Jane wake up.”

Her head finally fell, but it did not bother her in anyway.

“Granger wake up!” he said a little louder. But still no use. The only probable way to actually wake her up was to flip the chair over. Or I could kill her now. he thought to himself and actually checked his pocket for his wand, but it wasn’t there, nor in any of his pockets. He sat at the chair opposite hers and continued calling all the names he could think about.

“Hey Granger!”

“Know-it-all wake up.”

“Hermione.”

“Jane.”

“Wake up you mudblood!”

“Hey muggle girl!”

But to no avail and he was getting drowsy himself. Leaving her there was a convenient option and she’ll have a stiff neck by tomorrow and Narcissa, Olive and Marta are going to wrestle him. Having decided on what to do, he stood grudgingly from his seat towards Hermione, slid an arm behind her neck and another under her knees, gathered all his strength and pulled her up to him. She moved and unconsciously draped her arms around his neck. In her circumstance, she was quite heavy, it took him forever to kick the door to his large room and place her over the bed, to the farthest right.

She slept as soundlessly as the night as he pulled the blanket over her to her neck. And for a second as the light from his window illuminated her face, he looked at her, then got dressed; slid to the farthest left of his large bed, closed his eyes finding his sleepiness was gone. He looked at Hermione far beside him. Strands of her hair fell on her face but she looked very oblivious to the probable itchy feeling. Hermione Jane Granger, the know-it-all mudblood bookworm was lying on his bed where he himself was in.

Do I hate her?

I pity her… sort of.

But I hate her.

I love myself.

And he was wide awake all night finding the connection between hating her and loving himself.


A/N: I consider this one long. Dragging??? I don’t know. I hate dragging stuffs. Is this chap dragging?? Worthless?? Lol. You could say that in a review.;)











Chapter 4: A Chance for Murder
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AN: Man! I had a long break!? Sorry this took soo long.? Anyway, thanks to the_slytherin_goddess1509, PennyH, mahal_kita, twitchy_little, serpent_princess, SirenaLuna90, mani_rage, Princess_Nikky and Jackie Smith for the reviews!!!!! (did I get all your names right?) Thank you so much! Hope you all like this chap here.

Disclaimer: I’m just 15. I am simply not JKR.

Chapter Four: A Chance for Murder


Long since the sun had risen that Hermione woke up and found herself alone on the large bed. The scent all around her smelt like her fiancé; manly but refreshing, she thought. But when she opened her eyes, she was disappointed to see that he was nowhere in sight. Not minding her aching neck and early morning grudges she made her way towards a door at the other side of the room which opened to a large marble room with a giant tub in the middle, still damp from the previous user. Her intention was to look for her fiancé but since she was there already, she splashed some water on her face and then looked for him. Basing on common sense, he just recently used the room meaning he couldn’t have gotten far.

But he was neither at his study nor the library. He wasn’t even down at breakfast, in fact, no one was there except for Alex. He said that the ladies and her fiancé were gone early and Cissy asked him to keep her company. Hermione preferred her fiancé but then again he was not around and she badly needs someone to talk to. So they talked while she ate, mostly about him for she had nothing much to say about herself, nor does he. Finishing her breakfast, Hermione dragged Alex down below the gardens not resisting giggling a bit at the sight in front of her. She thought the view from up close was more interesting than from above. There were large fishes in the fountain; Alex, to her insistent questions about everything, informed her that they were called carps.

“They are all called carps?”

“Yes.” Alex answered with a smile as Hermione started to name each of the large fishes with funny names, the light orange one, she specifically named Draco.

She was interrupted when a maid, who introduced herself, by another of Hermione’s inquiry, as Betty, came with fish food and Hermione couldn’t help but volunteer and feed them herself. The maid was a little hesitant though, fearing that the master of the house would find out she’d let her do a maid’s work. Of course, Hermione insisted and commented about how strict her fiancé was and the two, Alex and Betty, laughed much to Hermione’s confusion for she was quite serious with her statement.

After Betty’s suggestion that the fishes had enough food already, they’re feet dragged them to the stables where they met Beast, Draco’s stallion of pure black. It had an angry, scary look on its face that didn’t push her to linger there even though Alex invited her for a ride on other horses. The rest of the morning, she spent walking around the whole manor, talking to every household personnel she encounters, then had lunch and back to roaming around that she memorized every way, hall and corridor of the large, large manor. By six in the evening, had a quite dinner with the ladies, asked about their day and went up to her bedchamber, went back down to the main living hall and waited for her fiancé, eager to see someone familiar after a long day of strange and new things to her, lying on the red sofa until she didn’t realize she was already asleep.



Draco Malfoy went home that night exhausted. There’d been a small problem in the company and another in the ministry that needed his attention which he can’t give fully, and the minister had been flooing and owling him for almost every minute asking for his advice and opinion about a problem his department shouldn’t be responsible about. The wizarding world is very unlucky to have such dependent minister, why he was elected in the first place, Draco didn’t know. Fortunately, the minister had good hearted and responsible counselors and he wondered for a second why he wasn’t one of them.

His thought was immediately cut off at the sight of his fiancée sleeping on the large red sofa in the middle of the large dim room. Oddly, Hetchins was nowhere to be seen; he usually waited for him to arrive.

Looking at the old, large, pendulum clock at the corner of the room, it was eleven in the evening; the old man must’ve slept already. He noted to find another butler, a younger one, soon. He went up the large, curved staircase to the corridor leading to his chamber. But for some reasons unknown to himself, his feet and legs stopped at the last second step of the stair way and turned around, looking down at the frail figure of Hermione Granger on his sofa. He actually forgot about her. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Her position was much like of the other night, her head was falling off from the cushion and her arm hung over the floor looking half dead.

Moved with little ounce of cavalry he didn’t know he possessed towards her or any woman except his mother, You should be honored now Granger because I’m actually being nice to you without a reason. he said to himself while pulling out his wand when his hand found nothing in his pocket but a candy wrapper.

He didn’t realize his coat where he usually placed his wand was removed, by himself most probably, and was placed over the sofa. Draco went down the stairs to the sofa, took his coat and checked every pocket for his wand. “Bloody hell, Hetchins you old man!” he cursed out loud, knowing pretty well the old muggle had something to do with it. Hetchins, despite his age, was tricky and the ladies always had something to do with it which angered him the more. He hated not to control things, especially in his own house and his own life. Not like his father who was in control of everything… except his death. Which was in Hermione Granger’s control.

Speaking of Hermione Granger, she stirred, probably due to Draco’s outburst. She furrowed her eyes, rubbed them with her hands that once hung over the floor and finally opened them up. At first, she furrowed in surprise to see someone as tall as he was hover over her. When she realized it was just him, she managed a smile. Draco felt the furry he always held for her rise. How could she have lived a day when her supposedly innocent hands killed my father? He asked that to himself as he watched her eyes close again, falling back into sleep.

He was gritting his teeth as he laid the sleeping Hermione on his bed, the same side as last night. Got dressed and slept. The next morning, he woke up with Hermione’s arm round his waist, her body close to his; brown waves of her hair sprawled across the pillow and some on his chest.

That should’ve been uncomfortable to him, which was what he kept telling himself. But a comfortable warmth he’d never felt before from all his mistresses or anyone else was what he can’t deny.

Draco slid out of the bed cursing himself, took a shower, got dressed and went to work knowing how she’d wake up alone again.

The next night and the following nights, the same thing happened. And every morning, he’d wake up with that warmth of hers. And every morning, she’d wake up alone and spend the day with people she knew she’d never met before the accident. And every night at dinner, her enthusiasm lessens.

By the sixth morning, Hermione wondered if her fiancé loved her. She brought this question up at dinner.

“Of course he does.”

That was all that was said.

Sixth evening, Draco was welcomed with a different view. Hermione was nowhere in sight but the one in front of him, he thought was more of a problem. They were all sitting at the sofa where Hermione was supposed to be sleeping at, facing the fireplace. There was obvious problem. Business? He couldn’t tell, whatever it was he didn’t care at the moment for he just came from Samantha’s house and he was dead tired. He coolly, as if oblivious to their presence; was making his way across the room to the staircase leading to his room.

“Draco Malfoy”

He froze on his step as he heard his mothers once soothing voice turn icy, a very serious problem. “Yes mother?” he asked as natural as he could curious as to what trouble he involved himself into again. He was like a kid in trouble caught by his mother who he thought was oblivious to his doings. Only he didn’t know what his fault was while his mother did.

“She’s lonely, she’s sad. She’s depressed! And she’s still not well!” That was his godmother.

“Draco, I thought we talked about this. You agreed to take the consequences for the mistakes you’ve done!” His mother exclaimed. He was not sure whether they were punishing him or just desperate to have a daughter-in-law. Either way, it was still much like the former. He folded his arms across his chest, taking in a deep breath.

“I’ve realized that I don’t care.”

“Do you want to die like your father?!” Narcissa asked, outraged.

“Yes. He died bravely with dignity and will to stand for what he believed in.” Draco answered as straight as the question was asked without blinking.

“And what do you believe in?” Aunt Olive asked, raising a brow at him while Marta was calming Narcissa.

“I believe that father should get his justice. And I shouldn’t marry a muggleborn.” He said that with a hard expression on his face, taking a stand against the three dictators of his life.

“And how are you going to achieve that?” Aunt Olive straightened from her seat and her face made that scary dark thing she uses since he was little. He was always scared of that face until now; he just hid it, for he knew it would only make her feel authoritative.

“I’m going to kill her.”

It had been a normal occasion for the Malfoys to talk about death but Narcissa couldn’t help but flinch. Her son was turning into his father… Or is he really? Narcissa Malfoy straightened from her seat and looked directly at his son’s eyes.

“Then kill her. If you don’t, or if you can’t, you’ll have to live by what we talked about.”

“Trust me mother, I can, and I will.”

Draco Malfoy climbed the stairs with a purpose in his every step. As Narcissa looked at his son’s back, she almost remembered her husband; cloak billowing, shoulder straight and head held high. He was pretty much aware what he looked like to his mother, for he felt it, his father’s air he could almost smell.

As he reached the door to his room, he checked for his wand and gladly found it, for the first time in many nights, in his pocket. Pushing the door open, the first thing he looked for and the first thing he saw was Hermione Granger lying on her side of the bed sleeping soundlessly as she always does.

He took every step towards her slowly and as soundless as the room was with his wand in hand. He hadn’t used this curse since after the war, and he gathered all the hatred he had in him. His heartbeat was his background music when he pointed his wand to her chest as he looked at her face for a remembrance of her living state.

With the light of the moon illuminating her frail stature, she looked deathly already. So there was nothing much to remember of her living state.

He smirked.

“Avada………



AN: I’m suppose to end this here. But I don’t like to be hanged.


The sun rose to its early morning height. Narcissa Malfoy silently took a sip from her tea and then looked back at the field below. Marta and Olive did the same thing. Every once in a while, they would look at each other but there were no exchange of words. The maid came and took their cups, but the last cup, Narcissa’s, was accidentally dropped to the floor and shattered to pieces.

Narcissa froze from her seat staring at the sprawled pieces of porcelain. Aunt Olive did a reparo and the muggle maid was slightly amazed. After that, the silence was back until Marta spoke with her high pitched voice, still high-pitched as always which was totally unsuited with the situation.

“She was sweet.”

“She is sweet.” Narcissa corrected, “He didn’t do it. I know.”

“He sounded, and well, looked like he was going to do it.” Aunt Olive voiced.

Silence again. And the tension was building as the time was passing that Draco Malfoy didn’t appear from behind the door to the balcony.

After some time and alas, the knob turned and all looked at the door as it opened slightly. A head with wavy, shining, brown hair, bright eyes and a wide smile. The three old ladies were filled with gladness in their old, wrinkled heart as they smiled back at Hermione. Draco may have had someone killed, but he was not his father. And sweet, smart, innocent soul of Hermione Granger was saved.

“Sorry, I woke up late.” She slid in.

“Is breakfast over already?” That was Draco, who had his hair pulled back like he was when he was young at Hogwarts, only now, instead of a smirk on his lips, he had a smile, standing behind his fiancée, “I’m hungry.”


AN: that was chapter 4! And for manic_rage’s question, I answered it in the review I just felt like putting it here. This is nine years after Hogwarts and making both of them, probably 26…? Did I count it right? Lolz. Hope so.

Thanks for reading!!;) and tell me what you think in a review!;) thanks.




Chapter 5: It's the Wine?
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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!;)



Chapter 6: I Love Draco Malfoy
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AN: hey! Chap 6 is here! This will be third to the last so tell me what you think?? thanks everyone.;)

Disclaimer: I’m JKR… in my dreams.

Chapter Six: I Love Draco Malfoy

Hermione Granger woke up in the middle of the night feeling very uneasy. She just had the strangest dream since she could remember. A man in black had his back on her at the end of an isle, and she was heading there when she felt like she slipped into a dark void where no one else was there but her. And suddenly a hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her down from one strange world to another and another until she fell on a field of dandelions. Next thing she knew, she was safe and lying on her side, wide awake on their bed. A slow movement from her front, she realized she had her arms around her fiancé who was holding her hand with both of his.

All her fears about the dream went to the back of her mind as she stared at Draco until she didn’t realize she was asleep again…



Draco Malfoy woke up that morning feeling a little woozy and the room having a different effect of emptiness than it usually did. He looked over the other side and found no one there which, for the past days, was unusual. A knock on the wooden oak door announced his fiancée’s arrival with a tray of breakfast. “Hello!” she greeted with a warm smile holding the tray with her own hands, “I brought you breakfast!” Hermione approached and laid the tray carefully over the bed, “And Aunt Olive told me to have you drink this,” She took a cup from the tray and offered it to him, “it smells awful but it’ll make you feel better, you had too much wine last night.”

“You’re not supposed to be doing this,” he took the cup from her hand and placed it over the side table, “where are the maids?”

“Oh please don’t get mad at them, I insisted on doing this myself.” She explained unconsciously reaching out for his hand.

He looked down at their hands thinking it was too early in the morning to complain. He’d rather mind his food, yet he couldn’t when Hermione was starring straight at him, as if she wanted to say something, or maybe she just wanted to watch him eat, which would be awkward. Draco exchanged her stare until she fell from her daze. “I’m sorry.” She apologized with a large, obvious blush, “uhmm… I just wanted to ask you,” she paused, fidgeting with her fingers, “Do I give you morning kisses?”

The Malfoy heir was caught off guard by her uncompromisingly forthright question and he did still feel a little dizzy. Morning kisses? “uh… actually… you don—“ but before he could finish his answer, she already leaned in and kissed him quickly on the lips.

“Good morning!” she greeted before hurrying to the door like a little kid. Draco peculiarly watched her leave before drinking the awful potion and indulging himself to his breakfast.

Later that morning, a maid came to the lord of the house to relay a message that his fiancée had gone for the woods alone. In a normal day, he would’ve sent someone to get her, but no, this day was none of those normal days. So for that reason caused by an unknown element, the sole living man of the Malfoy clan rode on his stallion, Beast, and went into the woods looking for his alleged fiancée whom he didn’t want to marry in any sense. The forest was large and he knew it was going to be hard with only a few of his muggle helpers helping him out. Where would a Hermione Jane Granger go when she’s feeling what she probably feels? He questioned himself only confusing his mind all the more. She would possibly be in the library, but she wasn’t’ there. So where else could she be?

An image of the pond popped in his mind and he pulled the reigns of the horse towards the east where the small pond is. Finding Hermione there, he felt like patting himself on the back for a job well done. How she found the place by herself, he didn’t care, all he knew was that she wasn’t supposed to be there. It was the place where his father used to go when he is too stressed from everything and Draco agreed with its powers.

In short, the place was holy, no mudblood aloud. But then again, this was no normal day.

Hermione sat on the same large stone he used to sit in every summer when he was still in Hogwarts. Throwing pebbles to the water, distracting its numbing stillness. She seemed oblivious to his arrival but she probably knew he was there, she just didn’t mind the presence, his presence. “hey,” he called making his silent way beside her, “you should get back now. It’s not safe here.” He sounded almost sincere surprising himself even.

“No. I think it’s safe here,” she replied, looking at his reflection against the, once again, still water, “I can feel it like its some magic.”

magic

A sweat dropped from his forehead at the word’s mention or maybe it was just a part of his hallucination he accused himself of having ever since he became conscious of Hermione Granger’s prettiness. He was afraid she’d remember and she’d tell the wizarding authorities. He could already imagine a group of aurors blasting his front door and arrest him while he’s asleep.

You are Draco Malfoy, you are the heir of my integrity, dignity, supremacy, influence and great power. You are not to do anything to shame the name. Someday, you will be greater than I am because you are Draco Malfoy. that was what his father always said every morning when he was young until he didn’t need to hear from him no more for it was buried inside his very soul. Until now, those words repeat themselves over and over in his head like a mantra.

He is Draco Malfoy, he exhibits utter integrity, he radiates his dignity to everyone, he is supreme, he is influential and he is poweful I am Draco Malfoy. Looking down at Hermione, almost glowing in her white dress, like the magic in the place was working on her, because of this woman, my name is on the line. And that night when the moon was on it’s fullest, that moment when he dropped his wand on the floor of his room, that night when he chose to let Hermione Jane Granger live again was the same night that he made his first step into saving himself and everything his ancestors worked for. And he made that decision on his own. As the sole male survivor of the family, my name is my very obligation… and if I can’t kill her to save it, then I’ll have to love her. He just prayed to Merlin he made the right choice.

“Why are you nervous?” she asked suddenly, looking up at him with an amused expression. And he actually thought she was not hard to live with.

“Nervous? Why would you think that I’m nervous?” he slightly laughed a genuine laugh for she did just not confirm if he was nervous, she accused. No one accuses Draco Malfoy nervous in front of a girl.

“Cissy says you are nervous every time you put your hands in your pockets.” She said a-matter-of-factly. He immediately looked himself over and became fully aware that he did have his hands in his pockets.

“I’m hungry; I’m going to send for a picnic basket.”

Hermione’s mocking laughter echoed throughout the small clearing as he walked over to the edge to one of his household staff he ordered to help him. When he came back a moment later, he officially dismissed the topic. Hermione didn’t push since she found another topic to talk about in less than thirty seconds. “So, tell me Mr. Malfoy, how did you propose? Of course, I gave you a hard time, but I need more facts to sustain my imagination here.” She laughed before taking a sip from her glass.

Draco just stared back at her almost dumbfounded Is this the girl from way back then? he thought, but maybe he just didn’t know her. No one knew who she really was except Potter and Weasley and they died eight years ago. She must’ve gone into hell and back, loosing her best friends. He wondered if it was as hard as loosing one father. When he realized how ridiculous he must look like by her amused expression he couldn’t help but have fun with her instead. “Oh,” he looked up at the sky as if he was watching from a projector, “it was hard alright. I didn’t want to leave my bachelorhood but you were so cute on your knees,” smiling he looked back across Hermione, “I can’t help but say yes.”

She cracked into an infectious laughter, her face pink, and poked him slightly on the ribs, no one had ever poked him on the ribs, and it’s not a very good feeling. “What!” he cried dubiously which landed her into throwing leaves toward him, “I’m serious!” he laughed picking up a leaf over his head, ran his fingers through it afterwards.

Early that afternoon, despite Hermione’s adamant idea of staying a little while longer, Draco got them both back at the manor and ate an early dinner. She was tired already and dismissed herself to their chamber to rest, he on the other hand, went to his office made a letter and owled it to his secretary saying he will be having days off. And before slipping into bed that evening, he paid a visit to his Aunt Olive’s chamber, hoping she was staying at the manor for the night.

Aunt Olive opened the door for him and he easily went in without invitation, “What was the potion you gave me this morning?”

“Why, it was suppose to take away your hangover.” The old woman answered deciding it was too late in the evening to lecture him about good manners, just resorting to combing her hair in front of her mirror while looking at Draco’s reflection behind her.

“It did” he replied almost menacingly.

“Good for you then! Good night dear.”

“Seriously Olive, I’m not going out of here unless you tell me what you put in that potion.” He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“And I’m serious. Jane went down the kitchens early this morning to find something for your hangover. She said she’s read about it in a book.” Aunt Olive stopped combing her hair and looked directly at Draco’s reflection, “As much as you waking up with a headache amuses me, she was just too sweet to say no to. Trust me; I gave her the right potion.”

“So,” Draco’s eyes narrowed in inquiry, “today was all me?”

“Yes. Whatever happened today, it’s all you. So, congratulations and goodnight. And it’s Aunt Olive for you.”





He had told Hermione Jane Granger about occupying the next room while she’s still not remembering all that she felt about him, but she didn’t take the offer. So, for the next mornings, Draco Malfoy woke up with an unexplainable ecstatic feeling with his arms around a small fragile body of a lady he thought now was not hard to like. She’d open her eyes and she’d smile at him and give him his morning kiss. And while he’s taking a bath, she would be rummaging through his closet preparing him his clothes. After that, they’d spend the whole morning together, she even conquered her fear against Beast and actually rode it. Every once in a while, he’d teach her about his business and as she was and is, she’d give out her opinions which, to no one’s surprise, contains a lot of interesting ideas he could essentially use.

In the afternoons, she spends most of her time with the ladies who constantly feed her with different ideas about how she walked, how she had conversations, how she danced, how she ate, what she liked and disliked, loved and hated and everything opposed to what she used to do. And at night, they’d say they’re goodnights and sleep on opposite sides of the bed finding themselves attached together in the morning. It was all a routine, and if that’s how he’s going to live for the rest of his life, he thought it was just lovely.

The fifth afternoon after that picnic at the woods, the ladies were having their rest and her fiancé had an emergency meeting, she wandered down to the kitchens and had conversations with some of the household staff. They were all beaming at her, saying how much the master has changed over the past few days and even increasing their wage. Finally when she got tired, she went up to her favorite balcony to read a magazine Marta recommended she should read. Cissy agreed that she used to read it, but she couldn’t tell why she was interested at it before. It talked about how to manage your hair, how to put those color on your face how to wear your clothes etc. But she read it anyways thinking maybe if she kept on reading it her memory will suddenly come back and those strange dreams she’s been having would cease. Like kissing her affianced husband every chance there is.

Then again, every kiss they had brought no familiarity to her but a simple pleasure and a little extended beat of her heart which is not at all familiar. That kiss they shared on their first dinner together alone with candles and roses and tears was amazingly breathtaking, she didn’t know how she could breathe with the tears coming down and her nose slightly clogging themselves. She also couldn’t tell why such an amazing kiss like that was forgotten with just one accident. how could I cheat on someone like him? Didn’t I love him before? Doesn’t he kiss me like that before?

Looking at the small bird perched on a small branch; she thought that maybe what happened before didn’t matter. That maybe, if she started something wonderfully new now, every lost memory she had wouldn’t haunt her because everything is just too good. Maybe because she loves him.

I, Hermione Jane Granger, love Draco Malfoy.

The bird flew in surprise as a voice from below called out rather deafeningly from the height and the space. Hermione leaned over to look at who it was and found a woman with long, blonde hair standing right under the tree the bird was on. The woman was probably younger than she was, wearing a black dress exposing a rather pale skin; she had both her hands resting on either side of her hips and an ugly scowl on her face.

“Hello!” Hermione greeted, “Good afternoon, do you want to come in?”

“Are you Malfoy’s fiancée?” the woman asked.

“Yes I am!” was her confident reply.

“Come down here you bitch and let me talk to you!”

Hermione, offended, wiped the smile of her face and hurriedly made her way out the balcony to find the nearest stairs down. Her day was beautiful; opening the large doors to the courtyard she thought she was not going to let anything ruin it. She found the young woman where she saw her last, standing under the shade of the tree. The much composed lady in the scene was greatly unsurprised, from her first impression upon the woman who called her a dog, when she was looked over from head to foot and the younger woman made an expression of displeasure on her face.

“So you’re the mudblood he’s been hiding?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked flabbergasted, her eyes widening at the same time. Mudblood? Hiding? “Who are you?”

“I’m Samantha, your fiance’s girlfriend!” she said a matter-of-factly, “we’ve been together for three months now and six days ago, I suddenly find out he’s engaged! To you!” Samantha paused to look at Hermione’s expression of disbelief. “And I can’t believe he postponed our date last night, for you.”

Hermione Granger looked the younger woman in the eye after restoring what’s left of her energy after a long day and what’s left of her shame at the same time fighting the tears that threatened to fall any moment, “So this is all you want to talk to me about?” The lack of response signaled her to continue, “Well, thank you for the information, you can get out of my fiancé’s property now.”

Samantha opened her mouth to speak but closed them when no words would come out. Hermione made a what-are-you-standing-here-still-for look that sent the arrogant, insecure lady walking with an extra amount of weight in her steps for the gates. “And Samantha?” She called just when she was about to reach the large gate, “It’s Samantha right?”. The blonde girl looked back, her stare almost piercing and scary but Hermione kept her stand, “Just to set things straight, this little unscrupulous act of yours is not going to ruin my wedding.” Her face red in anger, Samantha made an irritated huff before turning on her heel, intentionally flipping her hair.

That’s when an unstoppable tear rolled down from her eye which she wiped out as fast as she could. “Are you okay Miss Jane?” it was one of the helper’s son, Bobby, who approached her minutes after Samantha had gone.

She forced out a smile and looked down at the little child who held her hand, “I’m fine Bobby, thank you.”


AN: ooohh… you wonder what’s gonna happen now? No? *sulks* my ever first story is nearing its end! Next chap will be second to the last and I’m pretty excited! I’m already planning a sequel. Lol. It’s just a plan though…

Thank you very much for reading!;)




Chapter 7: Chapter Seven: I had a cat… I named him Crookshanks.
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AN: chapter seven you guys… ;) i apologize for probable minor mistakes. But tell me what you think and what you think should’ve happened after reading okay?

Chapter Seven: I had a cat… I named him Crookshanks.

Eyes puffy and bloodshot, Hermione rose from the enormous bed, wiping the dried tears away. She made her way back to the balcony thinking everything would be fine. Her fiancé would be back and they’d talk about it, he’d have to have a good reason or apology… for he did lie. And she thought she was the one who was unfaithful. But anyhow, if he did have a good apology, everything would be fine. Even a simple sorry would do it. She’s just looking up to telling him what she was feeling again and nothing could stop her. It was the most familiar feeling she had since she woke up that faithful day of emptiness.

Sitting back on the same seat up at the balcony and picking up her magazine, she began reading, putting all unwanted thoughts at the back of her mind. Just when she was so indulged in her reading, for the first time, a fluffy little creature rubbed itself against her leg. Hermione jumped in surprise at its sudden appearance. Yet, the cat seemed not to be scared of her and stared back at the human. She smiled; she knew what it was. It was a cat. A very familiar, fluffy, brown cat…

Like my cat…

I had a cat…

And I named him Crookshanks.


A single tear silently rolled down from her eyes, soundlessly dropping over the magazine page. I remember… everything




I am Hermione Jane Granger, born on the nineteenth of September, 1981 to Eliza Jane and Anthony Granger, dentists. They loved me so much. They gave me Crookshanks as my birthday present. But they had me home studied; I never went to the real school. When I was nine, I discovered a world, a secret world where things flew and things which are not supposed to talk talked, where people call themselves wizards and witches who use strange sticks they call a wand, where they called me a muggle and a mudblood and where a lot of things secret to any normal human being resided.

I practiced their “art” and found the magic in me. My parents didn’t know anything about it until I was eleven years old when I received a letter from Albus Dumbledor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry inviting me to study in his school of magic. They were shocked at first, especially when I showed them all the evidences of such existence of the world. Mum, collapsed.

But they loved me, so they had nothing to do but support their only daughter. In Hogwarts, I met my two best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Harry happened to be whom they called and whom I’ve read widely about the-boy-who-lived. His parents were killed when he was a baby by a lunatic I daren’t say the name of before. During those years at Hogwarts, his parent’s murderer, Voldemort, tried all endeavors to kill my best friend Harry. So, as good friends, Ron and I are always beside his every adventure and quest for survival and saving the school and the world.

We had our enemy in school, Draco Malfoy. Though he was not much of a challenge he still bugged me to the edge. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was a deatheater, Harry’s parent’s murderer’s followers. In the end, I killed Malfoy Sr. It was hard to kill someone, even if he is as cruel as Lucius Malfoy. Being on the right side, I had to. None knew how I never got to sleep much at night as the scene of me killing someone with my own intentions replayed in my mind. But my world came crashing when my parents died at a deatheater ambush, I thought me killing one was not enough. Then by the end of our last year as students at Hogwarts, my only best friends in the world left me forever to save the both worlds I knew pretty well.

So I kept myself busy with work since it was the only thing left to do. I worked at the disorganized Ministry of the Wizarding world. After a year, everything was settled, we had a fine prime minister and I was one of his panels of counselors at the same time heading the Department of Magical Creatures. Six months later, I persuaded the prime minister to build another department solely for the house elves but still under DMC. The house elves were given free will, to work for anyone they want to work for and whether they want to be paid or not.

After four and a half years, my job became monotonous and boring, there was nothing specially time consuming and complex to do that others can’t. In short, the wizarding world is in no need of me. So I came back to the world I was born into with a fake diploma and a real letter of recommendation from the prime minister of England to whom my prime minister is acquainted with. I worked and through my two years, I’ve had fun, I’ve had friends while I get promoted and promoted.

Until I met Michael, an advertiser… he was five years older than I am and very much accomplished. He was single and never had children, though he wanted to. He was not perfect, but he was what I had… Though I was successful, I felt myself sinking and sinking and he was like a raft at the middle of my pacific. I was hanging into him, losing my independent self. When he asked me to marry him, I gladly said yes. And whole new chapter of my life was opened, ready to be written.

One day I suddenly found him lying dead on the men’s room of an expensive restaurant we were eating on. He said he was just going for the loo he didn’t say he was going to leave me forever like everyone did. The hardest thing was that he was killed by a curse. The smell of a death from an avada was too familiar for me not to recognize. When I got out into an alley just outside the restaurant, I heard voices.

Two men talking aggressively but still trying to keep their voice low. No use though for I heard them pretty well. “You killed who?” a familiar voice said. “A man she was with, her fiancé.” The second man replied. “I told you to kill the girl!” the first one emphasized with anger. “I thought maybe she’d suffer harder if he died first.” The second one answered, a little fearful but still taking a stand. I neared the wall to peek and I saw the familiar face of Draco Malfoy, he was the first man.

“You’re not the boss here you idiot!” Malfoy hissed. “Then maybe you should kill her!” the unknown man retorted. It’s when I stupidly stepped in to the scene and gave Draco Malfoy my scariest glare.

“He’s right Malfoy. Why don’t you kill me yourself? My life’s totally ruined anyways.”

Draco looked at me in shock but was quick to raise his wand on me… then darkness.

After three days, I woke up with the information that Draco Malfoy was my fiancé.






Draco Malfoy arrived at his manor welcomed by his mother with a worried look on her face. “She didn’t go to dinner; she told the maid she wasn’t feeling well.”

He answered that with a frown, sliding off from his coat, reflexively stretching his arms as someone he didn’t know and didn’t care who took the coat from him. “You didn’t see her?” he asked, starting to briskly walk up the large staircase, leaving Cissy behind.

“Alex is with her.” His mother answered from the base of the stairs. Draco stopped on his step and looked down at his mother with an are-you-kidding look. “What? I was afraid.” Shaking his head, he continued on his way. He didn’t know but everything just made him feel nervous. And his cousin Alex was there, of all the people in the world.

The hallway appeared to him very gloomy and long, Draco paused to breathe and finger the small box he had in his pocket. An hour ago, he made a decision to propose to Hermione. Living with her, he found out, wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was brilliant. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt better and better everyday. What would forever be? But then, he was nervous… now he knows how it really feels. He used to laugh at men who say they’re nervous about proposing afraid they might be turned down. Now, he can definitely relate. He saw the door to his room opened and out came his trying hard cousin. Draco stayed on his spot, glaring. He thought Alex had a nerve to stop in front of him and reflect his Malfoy glare.

“How do you do it?” he asked to a now confused Draco. “You’re a sinful man Draco, but she still loves you.” Then he went away.

Confused and flattered at the same time, the ‘greatest’ Malfoy strode on to his room pushing the large double doors silently open to an empty, large room. “Gra— Jane?” he called out still not used to calling her by the name.

“Yes?”

The answer came from the bathroom, Hermione standing just outside the door with a robe on. She had been crying, her eyes were too obvious even after trying to wash it with cold water. “Are you okay? Mother said you didn’t come down for dinner.”

“I’m fine now…” she answered faintly. Draco took long steps forward to reach her side, reaching to touch her forehead for temperature. Hermione laughed slightly, “I’m fine”

“I’ll call a maid to send you your meal.” He offered, rubbing his warm hands against her shoulders and gently pushing her to the sofa nearby but they didn’t sit down, Hermione halting them both.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, if you don’t need anything, can you tell me what you and Alex did here?” he asked, his softness suddenly lost.

“We were just talking. Are you jealous?” she asked with a sly smile and scrutinizing eyes.

“No! Why would I be?” he answered, defensive. Hermione gave him a look of disbelief. “Maybe a little.”

Her giggle sent shivers down his spine, in a good way. “I am humbled. But you shouldn’t be, for I am trusted, unlike what you said I did before.”

A shadow of guilt passed through his eyes, he jus wished Hermione didn’t catch it. “How can I be sure?”

She smiled at him; he thought her eyes were almost teary, “Because, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione brought her arms up around his neck, “I think I love you.” And she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. His arms came automatically went around her small waist and brought her closer, deepening the kiss at the same time. I think I love you. the soft voice repeated in his mind over and over and over.





Draco woke up later in the large cushy sofa of his bedroom his arms around the naked form of Hermione who was resting her head over his chest, her fragile arm gently holding him by the shoulder. It was getting uncomfortable for both of them, so he easily and silently slipped out, suddenly feeling cold by the lack of contact and clothes, he looked for his briefs and put them on. He then bent over the sofa to slide his arms under her and lifted her easily to the bed, this time; he placed her over to his side.

Streaks of her wavy brown hair sprawled over her pale looking skin and over her naked breast. He reached out to push strands from her face so that it was properly illuminated by another wonderful moon. Draco laid himself over the bed himself, covering them both with a thick blanket and slipping his arm over her neck which she responded to by snuggling in closer. Her head was tilted up so that they were face to face. She looked like an angel no matter how much he used to deny it. An angel sent to punish him. He may have been feeling better and better everyday, but every time she looks at him in such ways that mesmerizes him, he felt guiltier and guiltier inside. He shouldn’t be the one to experience such things. But the Malfoy selfishness ran in him, and maybe for some times he’d let it so… it felt better.

“Sorry” he said out loud to her knowing she wouldn’t hear it. Her mouth moved slightly, her lips inviting him for a kiss. The urge was too much to handle and he leaned down and kissed the sleeping Hermione. He felt her smile against his lips and was slightly surprised, wondering whether she heard him say sorry. Before loosing himself to sleep, he thought it would be better if she did…




AN: thanks for reading and the review in advance…lol :) next chap is the last… hopefully.




Chapter 8: Goodbye...
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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…”

Sobs.

“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?

Sorry

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
everything

-Granger





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.



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