Chapter 34 : Krum
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I can’t even begin to tell you how furious I am. I mean, really, Malfoy? The smug ferret git? I know I cheated and I know you know this. But this is taking it way too far. I would never ever associate with the enemy. I would never ever stoop so low! I know what I did was wrong. I know it is inexcusable. But I feel as if you’re doing this to get back at me somehow. I know this set-up with Malfoy was right before I cheated, but…maybe it’s the universe trying to get back at me. Teaching me a grand lesson. And I did learn the lesson. Please, leave Malfoy and come to France… I will make it up to you.
Love always and forever,
Hermione felt like she had the air ripped from her lungs as she hunched over clutching her heart and shaking. She swallowed her heart and wiped away the fresh fallen tears. She went over to the desk and slipped the letter inside one of the books she was reading. And decided to take a shower. It would ease the pain. The letter reopened the wound, it lightly bleeding. The water attacked her in beads, massaging her back as she pushed her wet hair back. At that moment, she wished Draco was there. Holding her in those arms, where the entire world melted away. At that moment, she realized she didn’t want Ron. All she wanted was Draco. The hurt she was feeling because the thought of actually leaving Draco was too unbearable. Ron wasn’t worth what she had with Draco, ever.
Draco entered with a smile on his face, hearing the showers muffled through the door. He set his things on the desk and loosen the tie. He saw a book on the desk and grinned fondly, the book he obviously knew was Hermione’s. As he picked it up, a paper fell out. He glanced at the bathroom, still hearing the water running and decided to read it. Quickly, he did as his heart hardened with each word. Carefully, he put it where he found it. He glared at the door again, wondering if she still had feelings for Ron. Would she leave him and go to Ron? He was angry. He was jealous. He wasn’t even afraid. But feeling a volcano in him ready to burst. The water stopped and soon enough, Hermione stepped out with wet hair and nothing, but a fluffy towel wrapped around her. She smiled fondly at him.
“You’re here early again…”
“Yeah,” he nodded coldly. “I am…”
“How was work?” she purred when she was in front of him as she loosened his tie more. He held her hands as she stopped, looking up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Hermione, do you still think about the Weasel?”
She cocked her head to the side and let her arms drop to her side. “Draco…” she said quietly. “I trust you.”
His heart thumped hard, almost skipping a beat. What did she mean? he thought. He watched her leaned forward to grab the book and gently pulled out the letter. She held it out for him to take, but he shook his head.
“You already read it then,” she commented, it wasn’t even a question. “I thought you did. Yes, I do think about him, Draco. Just like I think about Ginny and Harry.”
“How long have you been lettering him?”
“This is the first I spoke to him since mid-September. I haven’t spoken or seen him since then. I have though received two letters from Ginny. That’s how I find out Ron was cheating.”
Draco walked backwards while pulling Hermione with him until he sat on the edge of their bed and Hermione between his legs. She eyes him warily, unsure especially when he slightly smiled at her.
“You…” she took a deep breath, “you have nothing to say?”
“No.” He shook his head, frowning. “Hermione, they’re your friends. What? You think I was going to run off to my father and have he interrogate you for their locations? I could care less, darling.” He kissed the palms of her hands gently. “Just let me know you don’t love him anymore. That you love me.”
“Draco,” she breathed with tears brimmed in her eyes. “I will love you ‘till death do us part. And even longer than that.” She pressed her lips against his as he fell back onto the bed with her on top of him.
Gray light from the cloudy day was shining through the glasses roof of the Burlington Arcade as Hermione cocked her head to the side, examining décor from outside the shop’s window. The shop had a glossy wood frame as lamps hung from the ceiling, casting yellow light. She sighed at the peacefulness. All muggles. No wizards, witches, vampires or any other nonsense from her world. She was able to break away. At least for a bit, she thought. It was not hard to notice the flaming red hair tucked into a bowler’s hat and a blue piercing eyes burning Hermione from behind the collar of the raincoat. Hermione immediately snapped her eyes back to the window as she felt Ginny’s presence besides her.
“Hermione,” choked Ginny.
“Ginny,” she sniffed. “What—what are you doing here?” Her voice trembled.
“Malfoy,” breathed Ginny. “He told you to come here to relax, didn’t he? Then he sent me here…”
“He knows where you are?” asked Hermione.
“Yeah… But he swore he wouldn’t tell anyone… Thank Merlin, when he came Harry was sleeping. You know Harry would never trust him… I don’t either, but I know you do. He’s…something else.”
Hermione looked at Ginny from her lashes and nodded. “I’m so happy to see you… You look great.”
“I look great? You look great. I can see he’s been treating you nicely.”
Hermione nodded softly. “Yes. Oh, Ginny how is it? This world is falling apart. I haven’t been able to get anything from Lucius…” Hermione refused to tell Ginny why she wasn’t able to get anything. She felt guilty, ashamed.
“Don’t worry. We’re all just trying our best…” After some time, Ginny asked, “You’ve fallen in love with him, right?”
“And you’re married now?”
Ginny slowly nodded in thought. “Hermione, I want this to end. But I really hope that both of you can still last when this is all said over and done…even if he is a pompous ferret git.”
She knew Ginny was smiling and Hermione giggled, but her eyes still with brimmed with tears. “At least, he’s hot.”
“That he is,” smiled Ginny, looking down the foyer of shops.
Hermione looked up to see Draco walking in a tight-fitting gray suit to match his sad gray eyes. He came and wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist, giving her a peck on the cheek.
“Weaselette,” he whispered, only loud enough for the two to hear, “Deatheaters beginning of the south entrance... I think they are looking for you.”
“Shit, they been eyeing Grimmauld Place, trying to follow us around. I love you, Hermione. Take care of her, ferret.”
At this Draco, smirked.
“I love you too. Be careful, Ginny,” Hermione whispered back.
“No offense to you ferret, but these Deatheaters are the biggest gits to ever wave a wand,” she whispered with a giggle and walked away. Hermione peeked at Ginny leaving as Ginny weaved through a crowd and pulled a silky cloak from her raincoat. She quickly flung it over her and Ginny disappeared.
“Thank you,” muttered Hermione to Draco.
He nodded. “For you only. Take it as how much I love you, Hermione.”
“Are we going home?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I want to go somewhere first.”
With his hand on her lower back, he gently began to lead her through the crowd, but Hermione glanced back, feeling as if someone was following or stalking them. She narrowed her eyes at the crowd behind her, but no one stood out as suspicious. She looked away reluctantly. He led her into a secluded alley tucked somewhere in the Burlington Arcade. He handed her a blindfold as he smirked at her confused expression.
“Put it on. Don’t worry, I won’t do some BDSM on you, well unless you’re into that.”
She rolled her eyes with a small smile and covered her eyes, tying it in the back. Darkness engulfed her, but she felt Draco’s hand, soft and big. Suddenly, she felt a tug on her stomach and knew he apparated them somewhere. Draco’s hands were now on her upper arms and he smirked, leading her through their new apartment and into the first door on the left. He opened the door and the smell of freshness hit them. He slipped the blindfold off of her as she squeaked. Shelves of glossy dark wood hoisted endless amount of books. The shelves were pushed against the wall as an armchair and loveseat couch were in the middle on a black furry carpet. The seats faced the grand window, looking out into the city below.
“Draco,” she gasped.
“For you. It went much quicker than what I expected…” he smirked smugly. “In about a week, we can move in.”
“I still can’t believe we have our own library!” She ran to one of the shelves, brushing her fingers down the spine of the books. She turned to him and grinned brightly. In the distance, there was a muffled tapping voice, which both of their faces fell.
Draco walked out of the library with Hermione at his heel. He opened the door a little further down and entered it with her behind him. There was a modern California king bed with white sheets and a poofy quilt laid on it. She blushed at the bed, but was soon distracted by the owl tapping its beak on the glass door of the balcony. Draco quickly slid the door open and it fluttered in. He untied the letter from its scaly leg, opening it and reading it.
“Shit,” he hissed.
“What’s—?” Hermione couldn’t finish when Draco seized her wrist and she felt the familiar tug and squeeze on her body. She was in an alley with dingy gray brick walls, but was quickly pulled out of it by Draco. They rounded the corner onto a slightly busy road, Whitehall and jogged down two flights of stairs that were flanked with iron fencing. Draco tugged her into the “Gentlemen” restroom. Some were on line and eyed them suspiciously.
“Move!” growled Draco, pushing a man out of his way. He yanked Hermione into a stall roughly. “Go, love!” he urged immediately. Hermione jumped into the toilet and flushed with her eyes closed. When she opened them, she was in the familiar Ministry of Magic. The floorboards were a worn out dark wood, with archways of deep red bricks that led to a gold statue. The gold statue was of wizards and witches in cloaks and some with skull masks. Lucius was in the middle with the hood down and Draco besides him on his right. On the left, were the figures of Lestrange brothers.
“Miss!” someone called to her, striding toward. “ID!” Hermione noticed he was already drawing his wand when she lifted her sleeve up to show her Malfoy tattoo.
Draco appeared a few seconds after, immediately glaring at the man. “Do you need something with my wife?” Draco growled.
“Er—no sir. Sorry, ma’am.” The man bowed low.
“No, it’s okay…” He still didn’t lift up from his bow. “Could you please not bow to me?” she asked uneasily.
“Sorry, ma’am, sorry.”
“Mr. Malfoy!” someone else called. The man had balding orangey hair with a thick mustache and was running toward Draco.
“Mr. Purcell! I need the portkey available now!”
“Follow me, sir!”
Draco interlaced his hand with Hermione, pulling her forward, almost dragging her. She glanced at people around her, noticing how they reacted to them. Everyone was jumping out of their way or bowing their heads or greeting them, “Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” Draco was like a prince… An evil prince. One that people were terrified of. Her heart felt heavy with sadness. Only if they really knew who he was. How soft and kind he could be. But everyone interacted with him based on already assumed judgments and caved into the Malfoy and Deatheaters stereotypes. Without really, realizing it, she was pulled into a room. The room was empty expect for the unfilled, rusty teapot in the middle.
“Thank you. Hermione,” he looked at her as they stood in front of the teapot. “Ready? Three…two…one.”
They both crouched and leaned forward, touching the portkey. Everything was spinning around her madly as colors whirled in a blur. She felt a pull on her away from the teapot, but her fingers were glued to it. She fell on a grassy field with a thud and Draco right beside her. Draco helped her to her feet and she immediately took in her surroundings. Dusk was falling, creeping on the splash of sunset colors with black slowly stealing the sky. Close-by was a three-story, old fashion cabin house, almost wearing away with age. A crowd of black cloaked figures were hanging by the side, being rowdy. Draco grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the crowd. It was nerving how she didn’t feel nerved by the Deatheaters anymore, like they were friends. She shook her head, shaking the unsettling thoughts.
“Move!” commanded Draco, pushing a Deatheater out of their way.
Once through the crowd, there was a man on his knees with his head bowed. She gasped. She couldn’t believe who it was. It was Krum.
A/N: Hiya! ^__^ Sorry for the long update! I was waiting on another chappie for another novel. Anyway as a warning, the story is going to progressively get more "angst" =O so I finished writing Chapter 40 and I swear I was such in a bleh mood there was a gray cloud floating over me. So, I am almost done writing this fic. =(
P.S.- My fiance got the mug for me from the merchandise store that says "I <3 HPFF" and I swear it's the cutest mug I have seen. Can't wait to use that bad boy for my green tea =D
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