[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 27 : Prophecy
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 20|
Background: Font color:
His leg was fidgeting, going up and down, jumping jerkily in place. He ran his fingers through his hair, leaning back and completely lost in thought. Should he do it? Or shouldn’t he? The thought of Hermione ran in his head on endless reply, over and over. Her sweet voice. Her soft body. She was addicting. He looked at the calendar and it was a few days away from New Year’s and it seemed like Draco was already starting his job at the Ministry. And being here made it tempting. He picked up a quill from the desk and played with it in his hand, debating to himself whether he should do it or shouldn’t. He had sex with Hermione; he was in love with Hermione so it all had to mean something right? That the Malfoy prophecy is slowly coming true. The Department of Mystery was here, in reach. So, it was simple. He began to tap the quill on the desk in a jitter, his leg continuing to shake.
Fuck it. He had to know.
He rose from his desk and out his private office. He ignored the suspicious and frightened glances of employees at their cubicles and kept a stony face. Out into the corridor, he stepped into the elevator as a few inter-ministry notes zipped in like paper airplanes. They rattled in a low hum as Draco rolled his eyes in utter annoyance and pressed the button for Level Nine. The elevator trembled and with a rasp, the metal doors shut. Rumbling, the elevator slowly slid down to every floor with a rattle. Truth is, he didn’t want to be here. He rather spend his days lazing around with Hermione at the Manor, blocking out all of reality. He had very little time to spend with her now since preparing for his new position which kept him at the Ministry very early in the morning and very late at night. Usually when he got home, she was sleeping. Her beautiful peaceful face at least eased him somewhat. Usually, there was a restlessness at the pit of his stomach, knotting and twisting constantly. In about two weeks, he was going to be wed to Hermione. He, of course, looked forward to it, but it was still unsettling because he didn’t really know where his relationship stood with her.
A loud rumble and a echoing rasp, the doors opened to Level Nine. With trembling legs, he stepped out, determined for the truth. The corridor was darkened with black-titled walls and the absence of windows. The only light was provided by torches that blazed with blue-white lights, sending its eeriness splashing on the walls. Another step and another, he slowly and warily approached the high door at the end as every torch’s light groped him and he could have sworn he heard an unnatural whine echoing from the corners. At the doors’ handle, he shakily grabbed ahold, pushing the doors open to find himself standing at the chamber entrance. The dark marble room had doors encircled him brighten by the same blue-white light and it spun, the doors wildly looking like they were being dragged, their colors blurred. It stopped. He eyed each one warily before he luckily opened a door to where he exactly wanted to be.
Draco entered the room, staring up at the towering shelves lit by the same blue-white light. The orbs lined on the shelves provided a creepy, unwelcoming light with its mist swirling in the glass. His breath was ragged and he looked behind him.
He had to know.
With a fast stride, he walked up and down the aisles, frantically searching for the one prophecy labelled Malfoy. The only prophecy of the Malfoy’s in existence. He slowed his place to a small orb, mucked with grime and looking feeble hoisted on a wooden stand. He reached up, his fingers almost brushing the orb, ready to know the truth and truly embrace his love for Hermione even if it meant his downfall.
He sourly chuckled as Hermione frowned at him, looking down. “What brings you here?” he smirked.
Hermione made a face, but nonetheless sat on a chair besides the bed. She glanced at her surroundings of a white walls and white titled floors, noticing the simplicity of the hospital room. Her eyes averted back to Blaise. His jaw was hanging a little lower than normal and it was swollen with black and purple at the jawline.
“Do you know why he did that to you?” asked Hermione. “You know what you did was wrong. It was cruel.”
“Cruel?” he hissed. “Your future husband is no saint either.”
“Why must you always put him down?”
“Because me and him are very much alike. You seem to be delusional. He is as cold as me. And equally violent.”
Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. “He may be cold at times, but violent is not a word I would use to describe him.”
Blaise sourly chuckled again with little amusement flashing in his eyes. “No, he didn’t kill a man at all. He didn’t torture people.”
“When did he torture people?” she asked stiffly.
“When you were kidnapped,” he smirked, delighted she took the bait. “Torture people.”
“Probably to find me, right?” Hermione heaved a sigh. “Anyway, Blaise, I suppose you might know this, but you can’t get a wand ever again.”
“Yes, I know,” Blaise growled. “He ordered all the wand shops not to sell me any wands. He’ll throw them in Azkaban. Also order all the Deatheaters to confiscate any wands they see me with. Draco is really keen on protecting you, but you seem to keep putting yourself in danger like now. Why would you be in the same room as the man who helped kidnapped you and used an unforgivable cruse on you? You feel safe since there are body guards outside this door? You really should rethink that.”
“Blaise, I’m just here to see if you are alright and to let you know, I feel sorry for you.” Hermione stood to her feet with a slight frown. “You are blinded by power.”
“You had sex with him,” scowled Blaise.
Hermione’s face fell, but she recovered quickly. “It isn’t any of your business.”
“I see it in the way you walk and the way your face glows even when you are talking to me. You were a virgin and you know that’s all he wanted.”
“Good bye, Blaise,” replied Hermione with a sympathetic smile and took her leave without another glance back.
“Everything alright ma’am?” asked one of the Deatheaters, standing at the doorway.
Hermione slight smiled, “Yes. Thanks. Just make sure he is okay.”
The Deatheater nodded.
Hermione walked down the corridor, lost in thought. She allowed herself to make love to Draco and she felt herself radiating on the inside as if light was going to burst from her heart. Every time she thought of his touch, her heart flutter and she became hot with the preoccupying memory of how strong every part of his body was. She was craving him, but knew better. What happened on Christmas was a practically a one-night stand. Of course, except the fact she was going to marry him soon, but sex itself was a one-time thing. Surely, it was in the heat of the moment for him. He was hungry from being denied any passion for the last couple of months and took her because she was the only one there. Hermione didn’t care though. She had fallen more in love with the man than she ever thought she could.
“Hermione,” called a soft voice.
Hermione smiled widely at Astoria who was sprinting down the corridor with a bouquet of fresh spring flowers in her hand. She halted in front of her and gave her a smile.
“Astoria,” replied Hermione sweetly.
“Listen, I want you to know that I’ve given up on Draco. I know why he loves you, you’re an amazing woman. And I think he needs someone like you in his life. I have been nothing, but selfish. I always knew why he loves you, but I—I just wanted it to be me. But they say if you really love someone, you just want to see them happy, right? I just want him to be happy even if it’s with you.”
“Thanks,” smiled Hermione. “That is very thoughtful of you.”
She laughed sweetly. “Yes, I suppose. I’m striving to be a better person so I can fully become a good woman for the next special man that comes into my life.”
“Well, I might know of a man.” Hermione glanced behind her back down the corridor. “He needs someone and definitely needs some picking up, but I’m sure he’ll welcome you if he hasn’t already. Heard you been with him quite a lot since he’s been here.”
Astoria nodded sheepishly with a grin and a blush tingling on her cheeks. “Yes. You saw him? How do you think he’s doing?”
“His jaw is getting a little better, but I’m pretty sure he is as bitter as ever.”
Astoria laughed lightly then faltered to a grin. “Yes, he sort of is, isn’t he? But it grows on you. Just like how Draco did on me….” She faded out to her thoughts and her face expression sad and of that of a child who was abandoned. She tucked her hair gently behind her ears, looking down at her feet. She snapped out of it and looked at Hermione, beaming. “You look great by the way. Something happened between you and Draco?”
A hard blush tingled on Hermione’s cheek. “Well…”
“I’m glad,” she grinned, knowing all too well. “Hopefully, you guys can get married and live happily ever after ‘till death do you two part. Or maybe even in the afterlife you two can still have each other.”
“Yes, hopefully,” Hermione smiled gratefully.
“Anyway, I’m going to give these to him.” Astoria nodded down the corridor. “Maybe it’ll help him from being too bitter… You really look great. You have this glow to you and you’re walking like a real woman now,” giggled Astoria. “Anyway, bye-bye!”
She skipped past Hermione with a wide smile, but Hermione could have sworn she noticed her eyes a little glassy and watery. There was still a pep to her skip and Hermione knew that perhaps everything will be okay.
“Mother,” sighed Draco with a grin, playing with a quill in his hand and his feet propped on the desk. He bit his bottom lip gently.
Narcissa cocked her eyebrow at Draco as she settled into the chair across from him, behind the desk. “You should really put your foot down, dear. Did something happen? The last few days you look relatively happy.”
Draco cleared his throat and shook his head with a un-Draco-like grin still plastered on his face. “It’s nothing, but I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“And what is that?” she smiled.
“The Malfoy prophecy.” His grin fell into a solemn face expression and his eyes darken to a stormy gray.
“What about it?” she continued to smile. “If you are perhaps thinking that you might be the one from the prophecy, I had an idea long ago.”
“Long ago?” he questioned. “When?”
“After she was branded. Let me tell you something about the prophecy; do not pay too much mind to it. I am pretty sure the part where she will betray you does not exist. You always play a role in your life, the prophecy does not dictate your fate, your choices do.”
He slowed his place to a small orb, mucked with grime and looking feeble hoisted on a wooden stand. He reached up, his fingers almost brushing the orb, but his arms dropped to his side. He stared at the orb momentarily and shook his head. Did he really have to know the way things would end? That knowledge would only bring his happiness to a halt. And he had to admit, he never felt happier in his life. He is in love with a beautiful, strong woman and she was going to be his wife even if it was make-believe, well on her part though. There was no make-believe on his part. He truly was in love with her, everything about her. Lost in thought, he grinned up at the orb, ignoring his surroundings. Never did he imagine the day where he could be so in love and happy especially if that person was Hermione, the Golden Girl herself. Love pulsed through him like a bright light, waiting to burst.
“I won’t pay any mind to it mother,” he said, returning back from his mental flashback and his grin reappeared. “Thank you.”
“She’ll be coming soon, right?”
“Huh? Oh yes,” he grinned, picking up a mug of tea and brought it to his lips.
“Okay. Just don’t make a mess of the desk or let anyone catch you two. Merlin forbid!” She stood onto her feet with a smirk.
Draco choked on his tea and coughed loudly as he thumped his fist against his chest. “What?” he croaked.
“Oh please, Draco dear. Like no one knows. The girl has a glow and she walking much differently.”
“Walking much different? Kind of shit is that?”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Language, dear. You wouldn’t understand though. It is very subtle. Her hips sway a little more. And it does not help you keep grinning like a child. Hopefully, soon I’ll be expecting grandchildren.”
Draco choked again on his tea. “Mother,” he reasoned with a grin. “Please, can I get married first?”
Narcissa slipped on her leather gloves with a smile. “I remember a few months ago, how you really didn’t want to be wed and now you seem keen to. Why is that? You want to keep her, don’t you? Especially since you are unsure of the way she feels about you.”
Draco tapped the quill on the desk, refusing to look at his mother. He hated being reminded of the vague feelings Hermione had for him.
“Draco, dear, I think you need to open your eyes a little bit more and maybe you can really see the truth,” she smiled. She turned for the door. “Oh, and stop doubting yourself.”
“Mother, what truth?” he called.
“About the girl and you,” she beamed. Hermione entered into the office. “Oh, hello, Hermione.” She leaned forward to peck Hermione on the cheek as Hermione returned the gesture. Narcissa grabbed the handle and looked at both with a playful glint in her eyes. “Lock the door to ensure privacy.” And with one last smile, she closed the door.
“Privacy for what?” Hermione asked, her eyes averted from the door to Draco.
He stood up from his chair clumsily and nervously and shrugged. “I don’t know. She is a bit mad. Talking about you walking different and shit like that.”
“Astoria said the same thing earlier today when I bumped into her. By the way, she is doing a lot better than that night.”
He rocked back and forth slowly, feeling her welcome. Her nail scratched lightly on his back as she threw her head back, moaning. As he picked up his pace, her breath grew more ragged and moans louder with a shudder.
Draco averted his eyes to his feet, feeling his cheeks become a heated with an oncoming blush of the memory as he ruffled the back of his hair embarrassedly.
“Er—that’s great then. Do you—um—want tea or something?” he asked awkwardly.
Her heart gave a squeeze as she choked on her words and all she could do was shake her head, more violent than a normal shake. She took her a seat where Narcissa was before. Nervously, he took a seat too, quickly sitting down.
“So—er—um—there’s another party on New Year’s…” he said, shifting and refusing to look at her.
Hermione sighed with a ragged breath. “Oh is there?”
“Yeah.” He finally looked at her and her eyes met his. “I was thinking we ditch. Go somewhere just me and you.” He cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted slightly.
“Sure, where do you have in mind?” she asked, suppressing a wide smile.
“Something simple. A bar by the ocean, far away from here, just us alone…”
Alone… She remembered the last time they were alone.
He stepped toward Hermione, turning her around and pressed his lips hard against her and caressed her back. Hermione entangled her fingers in his hair, pressing herself hard against him. He pulled away, unbuttoning his shirt clumsily and quickly and pulled it off.
She shook her head, hoping to shake away the memory.
“You know,” he explained, “to get away from…”
“This,” Hermione finished for him. “I really like that idea. I don’t think I could take another party.”
He laughed, “Yeah, I don’t think I can either. I might have to jinx myself if I’m forced to go to another one. You’re about the only person I can put up with,” he smirked.
“Oh really? Put up with? You’re not exactly a joy to always be with.” She stuck out her tongue playfully.
“Really?” he chuckled. “You weren’t thinking that when you were in bed with me…” He faded out to clear his throat awkwardly. Hermione averted her eyes to her feet with a blush tingling on her cheeks. “Er—so yeah…”
“I—bought lunch for you.” Hermione bend over and pulled out a lunch box from a large bag. She handed to him.
“Thanks,” he mumbled with a blush.
The door slammed open and both Draco and Hermione jumped. Lucius strode in with a sneer.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No, not at all,” Hermione muttered. “I was leaving now.”
“Ah, not so quick. Since you are already here, you should do a favor for both me and Draco.” Lucius glared at Draco then back at Hermione. “Remember long ago, you said you can pin point the likely place Reeves could be. Since you are already here and your fiancé is head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, I think it would be best if you would help now.”
Hermione nodded weakly as Draco bared his teeth angrily.
“Very well, then. I will leave you two just make sure you don’t get distracted by foul play. Disgusting,” he muttered on the way out and officially left with a slam.
“Sorry, Granger,” Draco said. “I didn’t want you to get involved.”
“No, its fine,” she replied, getting onto her feet. “I said I would help so I’ll keep my word. And since it’s for you, I don’t mind.” She moved to Draco’s side of the desk, unrolling a map. She tapped the map with her wand and it zoomed in on America.
Draco let her sweet aroma filled his nose delicately and he used every ounce of self-control not to pounce on her. Hermione felt herself shaking from the proximity of Draco, wanting to melt on the spot, but kept herself steady as much as possible.
“Here. Here. Here. And here.” She pointed shakily with her wand, marking Las Vegas, Salem Connecticut, Sweetwater, Texas and Boston. “New York City is too obvious for Reeves to hide so I didn’t pin point that and Salem has the biggest community of wizards and witches so he could get the most support there…”
He paid no mind to her, watching how focused she was at the project at hand and he admired her cleverness. She was incredibly smart and seeing her work with so much dedication was a turn on for him. He trapped her in front of him, putting his hands either side of her and Hermione hitched her breath. He buried his nose into her hair at the side of her neck, smelling the sweet fragrance. He sighed into her, moving her hair from her neck. He leaned forward and planted gentle kisses on her bare neck. Hermione began to feel weak and fell onto the desk, trembling. Draco continued to kiss her on her neck, leaving a trail to kisses from her neck to her shoulders, enjoying her small whimpers of pleasure.
Then, the door burst open and both looked up to find an employee, flushed at the sight of them. They both jumped from each other. “Oh—erm—sorry sir!” he squeaked and swiftly shut the door.
Hermione swiftly picked up her bag and mumbled, “I hope I was of help.”
He nodded, words stuck in his throat.
“I’ll talk to you later, right? Don’t come home too late, okay? I’ll see you tonight.” She headed for the door.
She slightly turned to him.
“Listen, about Christmas night—”
Before Hermione could hear the words she dreaded to her, she said it herself, “I know. It was a one-night stand. Don’t worry. I understand.”
Draco swallowed the truth he wanted to say. “Yeah,” he nodded. “It was.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Okay… Well, bye then.”
Hermione walked out, clutching her coat over her heart, feeling the stab of pain. It was nothing, but a one-night stand for him. For her though, that night meant so much more. It meant the world to her. It signified her new found love for him.
Draco sadly watched Hermione walked out. One-night stand, huh? he thought. It wasn’t to him. That one-night made him the happiest man alive. And even if it was a one-night stand to her, he would keep that memory safe in his heart as the first time he ever made love to a woman.
A/N: This chapter was to somewhat wrap up certain things like the prophecy that showed up a few chapter here and there and Hermione “helping” the Deatheaters as mention in the chapter 11 “Branded.”
Also if you notice in the chapter 11 “Branded”:
“Regardless, it is what it is. Nothing I could do now, but let me go tend to her.” He turned his back on her while putting his shirt back on when he heard his mother whisper.
“Draco, that girl…she might…you might…nevermind.”
He turned slightly to his mother, cocking an eyebrow. “Might be what?”
“Nothing. She just might bring out the best… In you.” With a lower whisper, so low Draco could not hear as he walked away, “And perhaps in all of us.”
This is where Narcissa mentioned she had an idea the prophecy might be speaking of Hermione and her son when she says “Draco, that girl…she might…” BUT just didn’t end up saying it.
I also think this chapter provided great insight to the way they feel and how their feelings are still getting misinterpreted by each other despite it is obvious to everyone around them. ALSO if you look carefully, there is definitely some foreshadowing. =X
Okay that’s it. Time to zip it. So anyway, thanks for the support everyone <3
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
Her wedding day
On My Own