scarletladyy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scarletladyy) wrote2012-01-02 04:04 pm
scarletladyy) wrote2012-01-02 04:04 pm
Fic: Forever There [Draco/Hermione]
Title: Forever There
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scarletladyy
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: 5,994
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Summary: Draco Malfoy lives in a world where Mudbloods are the property of Purebloods. All of his life he's grown up with his mother's servant's daughter, who has become his servant as they've become older. In a world where his choices are made for him, Draco can't work out his feelings towards her, until the worst possible day.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dramione_remix 2011 with the couple Jack/Rose from Titanic. Thank you so much to my beta chemical_haven.
Draco aged four
"Play with me!" Draco whined, grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her towards his playroom.
"No!" Hermione said loudly and firmly, taking her hand out of his grasp. "Mistress Malfoy says I must work, and that I'm not to play with you."
Draco frowned. "Mummy?" He shook his head quickly. "No. Mummy wouldn't say that. Come!" He was just about to grab Hermione's arm once more when a much larger hand grabbed his. He looked up to see the stern eyes of his father staring at him.
"Do not play with the maid's daughter, Draco," said Lucius, dragging him away from Hermione. "She has her own work to do."
"Why can't she play with me? I'm so bored!" In the most dramatic way he could, Draco folded his arms and huffed loudly.
Lucius was not going to stand for it. "You have a thousand and one toys. More, even. You do not need a playmate of the Mudblood kind. Ask your mother to invite Pansy round this afternoon, why don't you?"
Draco shook his head wildly. "No. She's always trying to make me play with her dolls or kiss her."
"Fine, then," replied Lucius. "But you will not play with this girl." Lucius eyed Hermione carefully, and she cowered under his gaze. "Do you hear me?"
Lucius' tone was one of finality, one Draco knew he wasn't to question, as much fun as Hermione could be. "Yes, father."
*
Draco aged nine
"Just ten minutes?" Draco asked, holding his toy wand out to Hermione. He knew she loved that, and it wasn't as if she'd ever get one of her own. "Please? Blaise is on holiday, and I'm not inviting Pansy round again. Not after last time, when she kissed me on the lips."
He was ever so disgruntled, but this just made Hermione laugh. "No," she replied, but he could tell she was tempted by the way she kept eyeballing the wand. "I can't. Your mother would kill me."
"My mother is harmless," he said softly, but the look she gave him said she believed otherwise. "She won't mind. It's just father who cares, and he's at work."
Hermione looked around the garden before grabbing the wand and grinning cheekily. "Fine. But only ten minutes! Have you read the instructions yet?"
"Instructions?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? I think I chucked them out."
"Oh," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I would have read them top to bottom." He knew she would have. She was weird like that. "It's been ages since my last go. Have you learnt how to do any other spells?"
"Yeah, let me show you—" He took her hand and began putting it in the correct position when he heard his mother's shrill shriek from across the garden.
"Hermione!" Well, at least he wasn't in trouble, he thought, but when he looked at Hermione she had dropped his wand and had gone ghostly white. "What have I told you about going near my son? Draco, get inside. Now," she added when he didn't seem to be budging. He ran off back into the house, but he could hear his mothers high-pitched screams from where he was stood in the kitchen, and by the time she'd finished, Hermione was crying.
Frowning, he trotted off to his playroom. He'd never seen his mother like that before. Why did it matter whether he played with Hermione or not?
*
Draco aged eleven
"Mummy! Mummy!" Draco called, running down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his parents were sat having breakfast. Hermione and her mother were there, too, but they were serving the food, not eating it. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at him when he entered, though. "I got my Hogwarts letter!"
Narcissa beamed and stood, bringing Draco into a warm embrace. "That's wonderful news, darling! We'll go shopping this afternoon."
"Congratulations," said Lucius, offering a small smile. He'd never been big on the pleasantries, but Draco knew his father was proud of him. His parents had been as anxious as he was to see he was going to Hogwarts, though he knew his father would probably have preferred Durmstrang due to their darker curriculum. Still, he was glad to be going to Hogwarts, since that's where all his friends would be.
"Hermione!" said Draco excitedly, bounding over to where she was stood by his fathers side, a jug of pumpkin juice in her hands. "Look, look at my letter! Did you get one, too?"
"Yes," said Hermione, but she didn't appear too pleased.
"How come you're not excited?" asked Draco.
Lucius sighed and took Draco by the hand, leading him out of the kitchen. "Come with me, Draco. We need to have a little chat now that you're growing up. There are certain things you should be made aware of."
"Oh, but Lucius, I thought—" Narcissa started, but Draco saw the look his father gave her, and she didn't say another word as they left and entered the study. It was a grand room, filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves, and a lovely oak wooden desk in the centre, with a large window behind it. He'd often seen Hermione gazing into the room as she walked past with her mother, for she seemed to enjoy reading. Draco had snuck a book or two out for her at times, but they both knew he couldn't do it too often in case his parents caught him. Why Hermione wasn't allowed to read their books was a mystery to him, though.
"Draco, sit down please." Lucius wasn't messing around now; his tone was serious and meant business. Draco knew that if he didn't listen to his father now, it would mean big trouble later. "I want to talk to you about Mudbloods. Specifically, Hermione."
"Mudbloods?" Draco had heard this term before, even applied when others were discussing Hermione, but he'd never really known what it meant. He just shrugged it off as one of those 'adult words' he was to learn later.
"Hermione is a Mudblood. You know we are Purebloods, yes?" Draco nodded. "Good. Well Mudbloods have no Wizarding ancestry, and so are of lower breeding than us. They do not deserve magic, Draco. That is why Hermione is our servant, because she does not belong in our world. Her mother was captured many years ago, and after two months of serving here, she gave birth. We have brought Hermione up, out of the goodness of our hearts, so that one day she can be your servant. She will be attending Hogwarts with you and will receive a basic magical education, but nothing on the scale of what you will receive."
Draco frowned. "Why? Because she's a Mudblood?"
"Yes," said Lucius through gritted teeth. "She will only be taught spells that will come in handy if she ever needs to protect you, and will have extra lessons to learn how to serve you better, as will the other Mudbloods that attend Hogwarts. She will never have a proper wand of her own. I do not want you associating yourself with her as a friend, Draco. She is not your playmate, she is your servant girl, and you should start acting like you understand that. Do you understand that?"
"I guess," replied Draco. It certainly explained a lot of things that had happened over the years, such as why Hermione had always been cautious around him, and how his mother and father had been furious whenever they caught them together. "Does that mean I can't be nice to her?"
Lucius sighed heavily.
*
"You brought her?" Pansy Parkinson exclaimed when Draco stepped onto the train with Hermione in tow. She was looking at Hermione with disgust on her face, as though she wouldn't go near her even if she were paid to.
Draco shrugged. "She's only here to learn things that will aid me. Shoo," he added to Hermione, wanting her out of the way. Things had been really awkward between them ever since his chat with his father, and she seemed taken aback when he'd completely ignored her when they were alone together.
"Oh." Pansy frowned, but as soon as Hermione was out of sight, she beamed and patted the seat next to her. "Sit here. Blaise should be along in a minute." As he sat next to Pansy, he was almost wishing he had Hermione back, because at least she was good for intellectual conversation. In spite of the fact that she hadn't read many books, she was still extremely clever, and had mastered many of his games and puzzles long before he had. Though he would never admit that to anyone, not even his parents. It was embarrassing that a Mudblood could beat him at anything.
The train journey, as expected, was long and boring, and Pansy spent most of it droning on and on about how Harry Potter was supposed to be on the train and in their year. Draco didn't much care, though, having met him in Madam Malkin's the day they went shopping for his school supplies, and finding him nothing but arrogant. No sooner had he stood up to leave the train was Hermione there again, smiling at him. He sneered at her, which caused Pansy to laugh, and the smile to fade off Hermione's face.
"Just keep several paces behind me, yeah?" Draco said to her, embarrassed that she was clinging to him like a lost puppy. She nodded and dutifully stepped back, and his friends praised him on his training of her, though he failed to mention that that was really his parents doing, not his. He noticed that there were several other Purebloods with Mudbloods, too, and he didn't feel so bad after that. Still, neither Blaise, Crabble, Goyle nor Pansy had one, so he still felt like the odd one out.
When he got in one of the small boats to take them to the castle, Hermione sat behind him, and he couldn't help but elicit a loud groan. Again, his friends laughed, but Hermione just appeared hurt. Like she didn't understand his change in attitude. Draco didn't either, to be honest; he was just behaving towards her as he believed he should, as he was sure his father wanted him to. The sight of the castle from the boats was absolutely magnificent, and everyone was in awe. He even forgot himself for a moment, and turned out to point out a couple of things to Hermione, though when Blaise gave him a strange look, he covered it up by shoving her instead.
"Hey!" she said, having nearly fell in the water.
Draco turned and narrowed his eyes at her. "Quiet. I don't want to hear anything from you, understand?" She nodded then, and the look in her eyes made him feel guilty. He'd always considered her to be a sort of friend, since she'd always been around, even if they'd had to play in secret. Now, though, their entire relationship had been turned on its head, and as much as he was sure she was daring to ask why, she never had. She knew her place, even if Draco wasn't sure of it.
*
Draco aged twelve
Draco was more than excited for his second year back at Hogwarts. As expected, he was a Slytherin, as were all his friends; they never got to find out what house Hermione would have been in as she wasn't allowed to be sorted. Much to Draco's horror, there were Mudbloods in his lessons with him, ones who weren't serving Purebloods, ones who were learning magic just as he was learning magic. He didn't understand why they were "free Mudbloods", and had had many an irritated conversation about it with his father, who believed that to be another reason he'd have rather Draco go to Durmstrang. Still, his mother insisted he remain close by, and so he began another year at Hogwarts.
It had been fairly uneventful, and the dynamics between he and Hermione were set now. No longer was there any confusion about who was in charge or what was supposed to happen. They both knew she was there to serve and protect him, and that when he left Malfoy Manor, she would be going with him as his servant. In spite of the few privileges she had at Hogwarts, Hermione seemed to enjoy it, and tried to soak up as much magic and learning as she could. He knew she looked at his textbooks when she thought he wasn't looking, and he never said anything about it to her, because it couldn't do any harm. After all, she didn't have a proper wand, and no Mudblood would ever be capable of learning non-verbal spells.
No, it was just to keep her sweet, Draco reassured himself. Not because he liked her, or cared for her, or still sort of considered her a friend. No, it was just something he could use later on to hang over her head if ever he needed to. It was good to keep a bit of blackmail material so if something went awry, you had a defence. He had picked that up from his father after seeing how he dealt with people, even those he considered friends.
"I've set out your uniform, packed your bag and completed your Potions homework," Hermione said quietly as she folded the clothes he'd discarded on the floor earlier. "Is there anything you need before I leave for the night?"
Draco had a quick think, but it seemed she'd already done everything he thought of. "No. Just make sure you're not late to get me in the morning. You were yesterday, and I missed breakfast."
Hermione blushed. "I know, Master Malfoy. I'm ever so sorry, I slept through my alarm. I think one of the other girls must have fiddled with it or something, because I always—"
Draco held up a hand to cut her off; he wasn't interested in these so-called bullying tales. If she wanted him to do anything about it, she was barking up the wrong tree. She was there to protect him, not the other way around. But, a part of him still felt that the reason he stopped her was because he didn't want to hear about her suffering because of how it made him feel, rather than that he just didn't care. No, Draco thought, trying to be resolute in his convictions to treat Hermione as a servant, I really just don't care.
"Sorry," she squeaked. "I'll try and get hold of another alarm clock, to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Good," replied Draco, nodding. He picked up the books she'd got him from the library earlier and thumbed through them.
"They're for your Transfiguration lessons tomorrow." Sometimes, Hermione's organisation astounded him, and he wasn't sure what he'd do without her. He'd forgotten he even had Transfiguration tomorrow. "You need to read chapters eleven to twelve, but I've highlighted all the important bits and made notes for you."
"Right." To his left, he could hear Blaise laughing, and glared at him.
"What?" said Blaise, shrugging, though he was still laughing. "Your Mudblood is more organised than you are."
Draco rolled his eyes. "That's what they're there for."
"Father says they're good for other things, too." Blaise winked at Hermione, but while Draco understood what Blaise meant, it seemed Hermione didn't. She just looked utterly confused and was looking between the two of them as if she was going to get an explanation. Well, he certainly wasn't giving one.
"I wouldn't sully myself," Draco remarked, shooing Hermione away, but he began to think about exactly what that would be like. He may only be a young boy, but he still had urges, and he realised that the thought of Hermione like that aroused him.
For the first night in his life, Draco Malfoy masturbated over his Mudblood, and he somehow knew it wouldn't be the last night, either.
*
Draco aged fourteen
The air was cold against Draco's face as he looked out into the distance, seeing Hogwarts pupils running off and hiding in bushes or other secluded areas, whilst Professor Snape attempted to find them. He should be in a bush himself, by rights, but he just couldn't bear the thought of sleeping with his own date. Pansy was bad enough to handle when she was sober, but now Blaise had spiked her drink with Firewhiskey, she was practically bouncing off the walls. It was a wonder that none of the Professors had noticed.
It seemed the Yule Ball was the night everyone in his year was losing their virginity, and he certainly didn't want to be left out. Heaving a heavy sigh, he stood to re-enter the ballroom and find Pansy, but there, in front of him, was Hermione. She was nearly blue from the cold, and it looked as though she'd been standing outside all night. She wasn't even wearing a coat.
"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply, putting his hands in his pockets for some warmth.
"I'm keeping an eye on you," Hermione said quietly. "Don't worry, I won't go in. I won't embarrass you."
"You look bloody freezing," he remarked, and not only was she blue, but she was shivering frantically, too. Her teeth were making the most awful chattering sound. "Here," he said, not really knowing what he was doing when he handed her his suit jacket. Trying to stop that racket, he thought.
"Oh." Hermione looked very surprised, but grateful at the same time. She hesitated before putting it on, and only when he nodded his permission did she wrap it around herself. "Thank you so much, Master Malfoy."
"Draco," he said, correcting her. He didn't like the formalities in private; it made him feel awkward. "But only in private."
She smiled briefly. "Draco." He wouldn't have thought it possible with how cold she was, but it looked as though she was blushing. "I've said your name a couple of times you know. Just to see what it sounds like, coming from me."
He didn't have a clue what to say to that, feeling rather awkward, so he just nodded his head slightly.
"How come Pansy ran off earlier?" As soon as she said it she bowed her head and shuffled her feet. "Sorry, I shouldn't pry. Forgive me—"
"It's fine," he said quickly, realising that he really wanted someone to talk to, and that even she would be better than just bottling it all up. "I told her she was being annoying and needed to slow down on the drinks." He smirked, and noticed a small smile cross Hermione's lips too, if only for a moment. She wouldn't let it show for too long, scared of any repercussions, especially since she had suffered many violent outbursts at Pansy's hand. Pansy always had been a jealous one, and didn't like the relationship he'd had with Granger, even if it had been only master-servant since they'd been eleven years old. "It was quite funny actually, or was, since now I have to go and find her to apologise so we can have sex tonight."
"Oh," Hermione squeaked, blushing. "Er, good luck?"
Draco snorted and walked back into the ballroom, scouring the room for Pansy. When he didn't see her bright pink dress through the crowd he knew exactly where she would be: the girls loos. He had half a mind to go and fetch Hermione and send her in there after Pansy, but he didn't think that would go down too well with anyone, and he wanted to stay on Pansy's good side. "Pansy?" he called gently, knocking on the bathroom door.
"Go away!" Pansy screamed from inside, and he could almost picture the pout he knew she'd be sporting.
Draco sighed heavily before he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. Please come out? I want to dance with you." He didn't, that was the last thing he wanted, but she was always badgering him to dance with her so he knew it would work, and it did. Only seconds later did she open the door, half smiling at him, though her eyes were puffy and red. "Do you want me to sort your face out?" She nodded; it was a spell that she'd never been able to master, in spite of the fact that she needed it a lot.
The rest of the evening went as well as it could possibly have done, and he acted like the perfect gentleman, remembering all the lessons his mother had given him. He danced with Pansy, was courteous to her friends, fetched her drinks, held her handbag and was even content enough to allow Blaise to dance with her. He was trying so hard that if he didn't get anything out of this he'd be extremely pissed off.
As the ball was dying down and couples were starting to leave, Draco took Pansy's hand in his and kissed it, whispering in her ear, "Shall we retire for the night?"
Pansy giggled, in that really girly way that annoyed Draco no end. "I don't think so, Draco. I'm just not feeling like it tonight."
Draco dropped her hand immediately, fury floating across his eyes, and darted out of the ballroom before he did something he'd regret. He stormed across the grounds of Hogwarts, and when he was out of the earshot of the Yule Ball, he could hear feet behind him. He didn't even have to look to know it was Hermione. It was her duty to make sure he was safe, after all, which also meant he never got a minutes peace to himself. She was forever there. According to his father, Hermione was only a Mudblood, so she didn't count as a person, and therefore he got all the time in the world to himself. "Can't you just leave me alone for five minutes? You're everywhere I bloody turn."
"I'm sorry, Master Malfoy, it's just your mother, she made me promise to never let you out of my sight..." When he turned to look back at her, she was staring straight at him, and he noticed tears in her eyes. She was afraid. He also noticed how very beautiful she looked in the moonlight; her hair, while wild and untamed, had character and a lovely colour, and she had the type of natural beauty that someone like Pansy could never have.
Draco didn't know what he was doing, but he began to walk forwards, right until he was an inch away from her face. He could feel her breath on his chin, and he leant forwards to kiss her. She was soft, warm and gentle, and unlike he had suspected, she didn't pull back. She didn't even struggle. He broke their kiss and looked at her seriously, trying to see if he could find anything in her face that said she didn't want this. There was nothing there, so if she didn't want it, she was hiding it well. Desperate to feel his tongue upon hers he kissed her again, with more force this time, and he placed his fingers into her hair.
That was when she pulled away.
"What are you doing Master Malfoy?" she cried, stepping backwards and wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
Draco cleared his throat. "I don't bloody know." It didn't make any sense anymore, and he inwardly cursed himself for being so upfront. Despite what Blaise had said, he didn't want to use Hermione for that purpose. He didn't want to lower himself to sleeping with Mudbloods, and as much as he had wanted to lose his virginity tonight, now he had his senses back, he realised he would never let a Mudblood have such an honour. "Just get out of here."
Now she obeyed him.
*
Draco aged seventeen
Draco fingered the rim of the glass of Firewhiskey he was holding, staring into it as if it held all the answers. On the sofa in front of him were three happy, giggling women—his mother, the woman he was betrothed to, and her mother—and to their right was Hermione. She was stood perfectly still as she held a tray full of snacks, and was staring at the floor as she had been taught. Her hair was in a messy bun and the maid's uniform she wore was far too small for her now. So much so her breasts were practically bursting through the shirt, and had she turned around, he was almost positive he would have been able to catch at least a glimpse of the bottom of her arse.
He knew perfectly well he should have been eyeing up his bride-to-be like this, but ever since that kiss three years ago, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Hermione. Nothing else had ever happened between them, they'd gone back to being master-servant and they'd never spoken of it since. It was as though it never happened, and sometimes Draco swore he'd dreamt it, though he knew deep down he hadn't.
"Isn't she beautiful, Draco?" His mother was playing with his bride-to-be's hair. Her name was Astoria Greengrass, she was a year below him at Hogwarts, and was a Pureblooded witch with a reputable family. It was a good match, Draco knew, but he had no interest in the girl. She was pretty, but in that sort of too-perfect way, where it was just too much. Her hair was a deep, dark brown and her eyes to match, and though she had not a blemish on her, Draco thought she looked boring. She had no character and she was tooo thin; it was as though if you touched her, she'd fall over.
"Yes," Draco replied, giving Astoria a curt smile, though his eyes were fixated on Hermione. He could have sworn he saw her grimace a little when he answered that, but he soon convinced himself he was making it up.
"Now," started Astoria's mother, who was an overbearing controlling woman that Draco really had no wish to meet ever again, "I thought we should have the wedding this summer. What say you, Narcissa?"
His mother nodded enthusiastically. "Certainly. August, perhaps?" Astoria's mother agreed. "And the engagement party?"
"Next weekend." It was a bit soon for his liking, especially since he didn't even know Astoria yet, but both mothers agreed everything would be ready by then, and if he didn't know her by next weekend, he certainly would on the night, since he'd have to spend every waking minute of it with her. And Hermione, of course. That was the only upside.
*
"Draco!" Astoria came through his front door with a giant smile on her face, wearing a yellow dress with sequins all over it. It was far too girly for his liking, though he complimented her on it anyway. "Oh, you are too kind. You look very handsome tonight."
"Thank you," said Draco, and he wanted to do nothing more than smirk, since it was Hermione who had picked out this suit. She'd said it would go well with the event, but there were tears in her eyes when she spoke. He had tried to ask her why, but she'd fobbed him off with some excuse about weddings making all women teary-eyed, and how she was happy for him. As honest as Hermione usually was, he just didn't buy that.
"Excuse me," Astoria said rudely to Hermione, who was standing just behind Draco with her head bowed low. When she was spoken to, she looked up, but still kept her submissive stance. "Can't you go and bother someone else for a bit?"
Hermione looked at Draco for approval, but when he didn't give it, she bit her lip and stayed put, ignoring Astoria's fiery gaze.
"Oh but Draco—" Astoria began to whine, but he cut her off before she could properly get into the swing of it.
"She is my servant, Astoria. She is to be with me at all times. It's not as if we're not alone, she doesn't count as a person, you know. She's only a Mudblood." He was echoing his father's words, but they were hollow. He wasn't sure he believed what he was saying. It seemed to convince Astoria, though, who sniffed haughtily and looped her arm in his, completely cutting Hermione out of his peripheral vision. He assumed this was done on purpose, and wondered if she'd been talking to Pansy, who had years of practice of trying to get rid of Hermione. Why they were so jealous of a Mudblood was beyond him.
"Fine." Astoria dragged him towards a large group of witches and wizards who were conversing in the centre of the room, forcing him to strike up conversation with Theodore Nott. Never had Draco known a man so boring.
As the evening wore on, he realised he liked his bride-to-be even less than he liked Pansy, and that was saying something. At least he knew what Pansy was up to, and when she was going to play a trick or two. With Astoria, it was like a guessing game. He was constantly trying to figure her out and work out why she was doing this, that or the other, and it was just tiring. He hated playing games. It was part of the reason he hated hanging out with Pansy, who did love her games, and, as much as he hated to admit it, liked spending time with Hermione. She wasn't allowed to play games, any kind, but he supposed that if she were, she would refuse them. Books were more her kind of thing, and his, too.
"Hermione," he said in a tone that commanded obedience. "Fetch me another Firewhiskey." He knew he probably shouldn't have another, having had four already and being well past tipsy, but boy did he need it to cope with Astoria. At this rate he'd be an alcoholic before they were married.
"Yes, Master Malfoy." Hermione nodded her head dutifully, and was about to go and get one when Astoria grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.
"I don't think so," she said to Draco, letting go of Hermione. The grasp had been so firm he could see red fingermarks all over Hermione's arm. "You've had more than enough. You're beginning to embarrass me."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "Me embarrass you?" He coughed in disbelief. "I don't think so, not with the way you're carrying on about shoes and handbags and whatever else it is you choose to talk about. Hermione, drink, now."
"Hermione, no," Astoria said through clenched teeth, again pulling her back by her arm. "You are to be my husband, Draco, and I won't have you drinking yourself stupid in public."
"I'm only drinking so much to cope with you," he spat at her, and now he knew he'd had too much. If his mother saw him like this she'd have a field day. "And Hermione is my servant, she obeys me, so get your grubby hands off her and let her get me a drink."
Fury flashed across Astoria's eyes, but she dropped Hermione's arm again. The skin was even redder than before. "When we're married, she'll be our servant, and then I can put her in her place."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He was getting louder now, more irritated, and he could see people beginning to look at them. "She's perfectly well trained and obedient."
"Hmph." Astoria stuck her nose up. "She's far too close to you. It's obvious she fancies you and I don't think it's healthy. If we can't beat it out of her, we'll have to get rid of her."
Draco took a step forward, so he was only inches away from Astoria's face. He must have been starting to scare her, for he saw fear in her eyes as he spoke, calmly but darkly. "I don't think so. She's not going anywhere."
Astoria looked as though she wanted to say something to the contrary, to argue more, but she didn't. She didn't even acknowledge Hermione's presence when she reappeared with his drink.
"Good girl," Draco cooed at Hermione, just to get Astoria's back up even more. Well, if he had to married to the bitch, he could at least make sure he had a good time while he was at it.
*
Draco aged eighteen
The dreaded wedding day had finally come, and Draco stood at the altar, waiting for his bride-to-be to enter the church. His best man was Blaise, because he couldn't think of anyone else, and the bridesmaids were all Astoria's sister and her friends, which unfortunately included Pansy. And there, behind him, sat on the end of the bench was Hermione, who was looking straight down at the floor. The only reason she'd got such a priority seat was in case he needed anything, otherwise she'd have been relegated to the back, or probably not even invited. He was sure Astoria had tried to cut her out of it several times, but he just wouldn't have it.
The music began to play as Astoria entered the church with her father, her bridesmaids following dutifully behind her. As much as he was pretending to look at his intended, because as everyone in the church was whispering, she did look beautiful, he was actually really seeing Hermione, who had also turned to watch Astoria. It was at this very moment that he realised exactly what it was he'd been feeling for all these years towards Hermione: love.
It troubled him deeply, though. He wasn't supposed to feel anything but contempt and disgust towards her, regardless of the fact she was his servant. Many years ago, Blaise had mentioned that Mudbloods were only good for one thing: sleeping with. But it wasn't like that with Hermione. Yes, he had wanted to lose his virginity to her, but he'd never want to use and abuse her like he knew he was supposed to. He knew that regardless of his feelings, and whether or not she felt the same, nothing could ever come of it.
Draco's life had been planned out from the moment he was born. He was going to marry a lovely, Pureblooded woman, get a career in the Ministry and have many children, and that would have been fine by him, if it weren't for that Pureblooded woman part, because as he knew so very well, Hermione was a Mudblood. Astoria had said a few months ago that she believed Hermione fancied him, felt too much for him, and ever since he'd wondered if she did, or whether it was just Astoria trying to find a reason to get rid of her.
It wasn't as if he could just bring it up, he might startle Hermione and she might do something stupid like tell his parents, and then they'd all be in a right mess. Hermione would be sent away for certain, and he'd never be trusted around Mudbloods again. No, this had to be kept to himself, but he wasn't sure how long that would be possible now that he really understood his feelings.
"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the wedding of Draco Lucius Malfoy to Astoria Greengrass. Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take Astoria Greengrass to be your wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
One day, maybe one day, things would be different. Maybe in the future he could divorce Astoria, marry whom he liked. Perhaps even Hermione. But the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him the truth: that this world was never going to change, no matter how much he willed it so. He took a deep breath.
"I do."
Author:
scarletladyyPairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: 5,994
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Summary: Draco Malfoy lives in a world where Mudbloods are the property of Purebloods. All of his life he's grown up with his mother's servant's daughter, who has become his servant as they've become older. In a world where his choices are made for him, Draco can't work out his feelings towards her, until the worst possible day.
Notes: Written for
dramione_remix 2011 with the couple Jack/Rose from Titanic. Thank you so much to my beta chemical_haven.Draco aged four
"Play with me!" Draco whined, grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her towards his playroom.
"No!" Hermione said loudly and firmly, taking her hand out of his grasp. "Mistress Malfoy says I must work, and that I'm not to play with you."
Draco frowned. "Mummy?" He shook his head quickly. "No. Mummy wouldn't say that. Come!" He was just about to grab Hermione's arm once more when a much larger hand grabbed his. He looked up to see the stern eyes of his father staring at him.
"Do not play with the maid's daughter, Draco," said Lucius, dragging him away from Hermione. "She has her own work to do."
"Why can't she play with me? I'm so bored!" In the most dramatic way he could, Draco folded his arms and huffed loudly.
Lucius was not going to stand for it. "You have a thousand and one toys. More, even. You do not need a playmate of the Mudblood kind. Ask your mother to invite Pansy round this afternoon, why don't you?"
Draco shook his head wildly. "No. She's always trying to make me play with her dolls or kiss her."
"Fine, then," replied Lucius. "But you will not play with this girl." Lucius eyed Hermione carefully, and she cowered under his gaze. "Do you hear me?"
Lucius' tone was one of finality, one Draco knew he wasn't to question, as much fun as Hermione could be. "Yes, father."
Draco aged nine
"Just ten minutes?" Draco asked, holding his toy wand out to Hermione. He knew she loved that, and it wasn't as if she'd ever get one of her own. "Please? Blaise is on holiday, and I'm not inviting Pansy round again. Not after last time, when she kissed me on the lips."
He was ever so disgruntled, but this just made Hermione laugh. "No," she replied, but he could tell she was tempted by the way she kept eyeballing the wand. "I can't. Your mother would kill me."
"My mother is harmless," he said softly, but the look she gave him said she believed otherwise. "She won't mind. It's just father who cares, and he's at work."
Hermione looked around the garden before grabbing the wand and grinning cheekily. "Fine. But only ten minutes! Have you read the instructions yet?"
"Instructions?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? I think I chucked them out."
"Oh," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I would have read them top to bottom." He knew she would have. She was weird like that. "It's been ages since my last go. Have you learnt how to do any other spells?"
"Yeah, let me show you—" He took her hand and began putting it in the correct position when he heard his mother's shrill shriek from across the garden.
"Hermione!" Well, at least he wasn't in trouble, he thought, but when he looked at Hermione she had dropped his wand and had gone ghostly white. "What have I told you about going near my son? Draco, get inside. Now," she added when he didn't seem to be budging. He ran off back into the house, but he could hear his mothers high-pitched screams from where he was stood in the kitchen, and by the time she'd finished, Hermione was crying.
Frowning, he trotted off to his playroom. He'd never seen his mother like that before. Why did it matter whether he played with Hermione or not?
Draco aged eleven
"Mummy! Mummy!" Draco called, running down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his parents were sat having breakfast. Hermione and her mother were there, too, but they were serving the food, not eating it. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at him when he entered, though. "I got my Hogwarts letter!"
Narcissa beamed and stood, bringing Draco into a warm embrace. "That's wonderful news, darling! We'll go shopping this afternoon."
"Congratulations," said Lucius, offering a small smile. He'd never been big on the pleasantries, but Draco knew his father was proud of him. His parents had been as anxious as he was to see he was going to Hogwarts, though he knew his father would probably have preferred Durmstrang due to their darker curriculum. Still, he was glad to be going to Hogwarts, since that's where all his friends would be.
"Hermione!" said Draco excitedly, bounding over to where she was stood by his fathers side, a jug of pumpkin juice in her hands. "Look, look at my letter! Did you get one, too?"
"Yes," said Hermione, but she didn't appear too pleased.
"How come you're not excited?" asked Draco.
Lucius sighed and took Draco by the hand, leading him out of the kitchen. "Come with me, Draco. We need to have a little chat now that you're growing up. There are certain things you should be made aware of."
"Oh, but Lucius, I thought—" Narcissa started, but Draco saw the look his father gave her, and she didn't say another word as they left and entered the study. It was a grand room, filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves, and a lovely oak wooden desk in the centre, with a large window behind it. He'd often seen Hermione gazing into the room as she walked past with her mother, for she seemed to enjoy reading. Draco had snuck a book or two out for her at times, but they both knew he couldn't do it too often in case his parents caught him. Why Hermione wasn't allowed to read their books was a mystery to him, though.
"Draco, sit down please." Lucius wasn't messing around now; his tone was serious and meant business. Draco knew that if he didn't listen to his father now, it would mean big trouble later. "I want to talk to you about Mudbloods. Specifically, Hermione."
"Mudbloods?" Draco had heard this term before, even applied when others were discussing Hermione, but he'd never really known what it meant. He just shrugged it off as one of those 'adult words' he was to learn later.
"Hermione is a Mudblood. You know we are Purebloods, yes?" Draco nodded. "Good. Well Mudbloods have no Wizarding ancestry, and so are of lower breeding than us. They do not deserve magic, Draco. That is why Hermione is our servant, because she does not belong in our world. Her mother was captured many years ago, and after two months of serving here, she gave birth. We have brought Hermione up, out of the goodness of our hearts, so that one day she can be your servant. She will be attending Hogwarts with you and will receive a basic magical education, but nothing on the scale of what you will receive."
Draco frowned. "Why? Because she's a Mudblood?"
"Yes," said Lucius through gritted teeth. "She will only be taught spells that will come in handy if she ever needs to protect you, and will have extra lessons to learn how to serve you better, as will the other Mudbloods that attend Hogwarts. She will never have a proper wand of her own. I do not want you associating yourself with her as a friend, Draco. She is not your playmate, she is your servant girl, and you should start acting like you understand that. Do you understand that?"
"I guess," replied Draco. It certainly explained a lot of things that had happened over the years, such as why Hermione had always been cautious around him, and how his mother and father had been furious whenever they caught them together. "Does that mean I can't be nice to her?"
Lucius sighed heavily.
"You brought her?" Pansy Parkinson exclaimed when Draco stepped onto the train with Hermione in tow. She was looking at Hermione with disgust on her face, as though she wouldn't go near her even if she were paid to.
Draco shrugged. "She's only here to learn things that will aid me. Shoo," he added to Hermione, wanting her out of the way. Things had been really awkward between them ever since his chat with his father, and she seemed taken aback when he'd completely ignored her when they were alone together.
"Oh." Pansy frowned, but as soon as Hermione was out of sight, she beamed and patted the seat next to her. "Sit here. Blaise should be along in a minute." As he sat next to Pansy, he was almost wishing he had Hermione back, because at least she was good for intellectual conversation. In spite of the fact that she hadn't read many books, she was still extremely clever, and had mastered many of his games and puzzles long before he had. Though he would never admit that to anyone, not even his parents. It was embarrassing that a Mudblood could beat him at anything.
The train journey, as expected, was long and boring, and Pansy spent most of it droning on and on about how Harry Potter was supposed to be on the train and in their year. Draco didn't much care, though, having met him in Madam Malkin's the day they went shopping for his school supplies, and finding him nothing but arrogant. No sooner had he stood up to leave the train was Hermione there again, smiling at him. He sneered at her, which caused Pansy to laugh, and the smile to fade off Hermione's face.
"Just keep several paces behind me, yeah?" Draco said to her, embarrassed that she was clinging to him like a lost puppy. She nodded and dutifully stepped back, and his friends praised him on his training of her, though he failed to mention that that was really his parents doing, not his. He noticed that there were several other Purebloods with Mudbloods, too, and he didn't feel so bad after that. Still, neither Blaise, Crabble, Goyle nor Pansy had one, so he still felt like the odd one out.
When he got in one of the small boats to take them to the castle, Hermione sat behind him, and he couldn't help but elicit a loud groan. Again, his friends laughed, but Hermione just appeared hurt. Like she didn't understand his change in attitude. Draco didn't either, to be honest; he was just behaving towards her as he believed he should, as he was sure his father wanted him to. The sight of the castle from the boats was absolutely magnificent, and everyone was in awe. He even forgot himself for a moment, and turned out to point out a couple of things to Hermione, though when Blaise gave him a strange look, he covered it up by shoving her instead.
"Hey!" she said, having nearly fell in the water.
Draco turned and narrowed his eyes at her. "Quiet. I don't want to hear anything from you, understand?" She nodded then, and the look in her eyes made him feel guilty. He'd always considered her to be a sort of friend, since she'd always been around, even if they'd had to play in secret. Now, though, their entire relationship had been turned on its head, and as much as he was sure she was daring to ask why, she never had. She knew her place, even if Draco wasn't sure of it.
Draco aged twelve
Draco was more than excited for his second year back at Hogwarts. As expected, he was a Slytherin, as were all his friends; they never got to find out what house Hermione would have been in as she wasn't allowed to be sorted. Much to Draco's horror, there were Mudbloods in his lessons with him, ones who weren't serving Purebloods, ones who were learning magic just as he was learning magic. He didn't understand why they were "free Mudbloods", and had had many an irritated conversation about it with his father, who believed that to be another reason he'd have rather Draco go to Durmstrang. Still, his mother insisted he remain close by, and so he began another year at Hogwarts.
It had been fairly uneventful, and the dynamics between he and Hermione were set now. No longer was there any confusion about who was in charge or what was supposed to happen. They both knew she was there to serve and protect him, and that when he left Malfoy Manor, she would be going with him as his servant. In spite of the few privileges she had at Hogwarts, Hermione seemed to enjoy it, and tried to soak up as much magic and learning as she could. He knew she looked at his textbooks when she thought he wasn't looking, and he never said anything about it to her, because it couldn't do any harm. After all, she didn't have a proper wand, and no Mudblood would ever be capable of learning non-verbal spells.
No, it was just to keep her sweet, Draco reassured himself. Not because he liked her, or cared for her, or still sort of considered her a friend. No, it was just something he could use later on to hang over her head if ever he needed to. It was good to keep a bit of blackmail material so if something went awry, you had a defence. He had picked that up from his father after seeing how he dealt with people, even those he considered friends.
"I've set out your uniform, packed your bag and completed your Potions homework," Hermione said quietly as she folded the clothes he'd discarded on the floor earlier. "Is there anything you need before I leave for the night?"
Draco had a quick think, but it seemed she'd already done everything he thought of. "No. Just make sure you're not late to get me in the morning. You were yesterday, and I missed breakfast."
Hermione blushed. "I know, Master Malfoy. I'm ever so sorry, I slept through my alarm. I think one of the other girls must have fiddled with it or something, because I always—"
Draco held up a hand to cut her off; he wasn't interested in these so-called bullying tales. If she wanted him to do anything about it, she was barking up the wrong tree. She was there to protect him, not the other way around. But, a part of him still felt that the reason he stopped her was because he didn't want to hear about her suffering because of how it made him feel, rather than that he just didn't care. No, Draco thought, trying to be resolute in his convictions to treat Hermione as a servant, I really just don't care.
"Sorry," she squeaked. "I'll try and get hold of another alarm clock, to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Good," replied Draco, nodding. He picked up the books she'd got him from the library earlier and thumbed through them.
"They're for your Transfiguration lessons tomorrow." Sometimes, Hermione's organisation astounded him, and he wasn't sure what he'd do without her. He'd forgotten he even had Transfiguration tomorrow. "You need to read chapters eleven to twelve, but I've highlighted all the important bits and made notes for you."
"Right." To his left, he could hear Blaise laughing, and glared at him.
"What?" said Blaise, shrugging, though he was still laughing. "Your Mudblood is more organised than you are."
Draco rolled his eyes. "That's what they're there for."
"Father says they're good for other things, too." Blaise winked at Hermione, but while Draco understood what Blaise meant, it seemed Hermione didn't. She just looked utterly confused and was looking between the two of them as if she was going to get an explanation. Well, he certainly wasn't giving one.
"I wouldn't sully myself," Draco remarked, shooing Hermione away, but he began to think about exactly what that would be like. He may only be a young boy, but he still had urges, and he realised that the thought of Hermione like that aroused him.
For the first night in his life, Draco Malfoy masturbated over his Mudblood, and he somehow knew it wouldn't be the last night, either.
Draco aged fourteen
The air was cold against Draco's face as he looked out into the distance, seeing Hogwarts pupils running off and hiding in bushes or other secluded areas, whilst Professor Snape attempted to find them. He should be in a bush himself, by rights, but he just couldn't bear the thought of sleeping with his own date. Pansy was bad enough to handle when she was sober, but now Blaise had spiked her drink with Firewhiskey, she was practically bouncing off the walls. It was a wonder that none of the Professors had noticed.
It seemed the Yule Ball was the night everyone in his year was losing their virginity, and he certainly didn't want to be left out. Heaving a heavy sigh, he stood to re-enter the ballroom and find Pansy, but there, in front of him, was Hermione. She was nearly blue from the cold, and it looked as though she'd been standing outside all night. She wasn't even wearing a coat.
"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply, putting his hands in his pockets for some warmth.
"I'm keeping an eye on you," Hermione said quietly. "Don't worry, I won't go in. I won't embarrass you."
"You look bloody freezing," he remarked, and not only was she blue, but she was shivering frantically, too. Her teeth were making the most awful chattering sound. "Here," he said, not really knowing what he was doing when he handed her his suit jacket. Trying to stop that racket, he thought.
"Oh." Hermione looked very surprised, but grateful at the same time. She hesitated before putting it on, and only when he nodded his permission did she wrap it around herself. "Thank you so much, Master Malfoy."
"Draco," he said, correcting her. He didn't like the formalities in private; it made him feel awkward. "But only in private."
She smiled briefly. "Draco." He wouldn't have thought it possible with how cold she was, but it looked as though she was blushing. "I've said your name a couple of times you know. Just to see what it sounds like, coming from me."
He didn't have a clue what to say to that, feeling rather awkward, so he just nodded his head slightly.
"How come Pansy ran off earlier?" As soon as she said it she bowed her head and shuffled her feet. "Sorry, I shouldn't pry. Forgive me—"
"It's fine," he said quickly, realising that he really wanted someone to talk to, and that even she would be better than just bottling it all up. "I told her she was being annoying and needed to slow down on the drinks." He smirked, and noticed a small smile cross Hermione's lips too, if only for a moment. She wouldn't let it show for too long, scared of any repercussions, especially since she had suffered many violent outbursts at Pansy's hand. Pansy always had been a jealous one, and didn't like the relationship he'd had with Granger, even if it had been only master-servant since they'd been eleven years old. "It was quite funny actually, or was, since now I have to go and find her to apologise so we can have sex tonight."
"Oh," Hermione squeaked, blushing. "Er, good luck?"
Draco snorted and walked back into the ballroom, scouring the room for Pansy. When he didn't see her bright pink dress through the crowd he knew exactly where she would be: the girls loos. He had half a mind to go and fetch Hermione and send her in there after Pansy, but he didn't think that would go down too well with anyone, and he wanted to stay on Pansy's good side. "Pansy?" he called gently, knocking on the bathroom door.
"Go away!" Pansy screamed from inside, and he could almost picture the pout he knew she'd be sporting.
Draco sighed heavily before he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. Please come out? I want to dance with you." He didn't, that was the last thing he wanted, but she was always badgering him to dance with her so he knew it would work, and it did. Only seconds later did she open the door, half smiling at him, though her eyes were puffy and red. "Do you want me to sort your face out?" She nodded; it was a spell that she'd never been able to master, in spite of the fact that she needed it a lot.
The rest of the evening went as well as it could possibly have done, and he acted like the perfect gentleman, remembering all the lessons his mother had given him. He danced with Pansy, was courteous to her friends, fetched her drinks, held her handbag and was even content enough to allow Blaise to dance with her. He was trying so hard that if he didn't get anything out of this he'd be extremely pissed off.
As the ball was dying down and couples were starting to leave, Draco took Pansy's hand in his and kissed it, whispering in her ear, "Shall we retire for the night?"
Pansy giggled, in that really girly way that annoyed Draco no end. "I don't think so, Draco. I'm just not feeling like it tonight."
Draco dropped her hand immediately, fury floating across his eyes, and darted out of the ballroom before he did something he'd regret. He stormed across the grounds of Hogwarts, and when he was out of the earshot of the Yule Ball, he could hear feet behind him. He didn't even have to look to know it was Hermione. It was her duty to make sure he was safe, after all, which also meant he never got a minutes peace to himself. She was forever there. According to his father, Hermione was only a Mudblood, so she didn't count as a person, and therefore he got all the time in the world to himself. "Can't you just leave me alone for five minutes? You're everywhere I bloody turn."
"I'm sorry, Master Malfoy, it's just your mother, she made me promise to never let you out of my sight..." When he turned to look back at her, she was staring straight at him, and he noticed tears in her eyes. She was afraid. He also noticed how very beautiful she looked in the moonlight; her hair, while wild and untamed, had character and a lovely colour, and she had the type of natural beauty that someone like Pansy could never have.
Draco didn't know what he was doing, but he began to walk forwards, right until he was an inch away from her face. He could feel her breath on his chin, and he leant forwards to kiss her. She was soft, warm and gentle, and unlike he had suspected, she didn't pull back. She didn't even struggle. He broke their kiss and looked at her seriously, trying to see if he could find anything in her face that said she didn't want this. There was nothing there, so if she didn't want it, she was hiding it well. Desperate to feel his tongue upon hers he kissed her again, with more force this time, and he placed his fingers into her hair.
That was when she pulled away.
"What are you doing Master Malfoy?" she cried, stepping backwards and wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
Draco cleared his throat. "I don't bloody know." It didn't make any sense anymore, and he inwardly cursed himself for being so upfront. Despite what Blaise had said, he didn't want to use Hermione for that purpose. He didn't want to lower himself to sleeping with Mudbloods, and as much as he had wanted to lose his virginity tonight, now he had his senses back, he realised he would never let a Mudblood have such an honour. "Just get out of here."
Now she obeyed him.
Draco aged seventeen
Draco fingered the rim of the glass of Firewhiskey he was holding, staring into it as if it held all the answers. On the sofa in front of him were three happy, giggling women—his mother, the woman he was betrothed to, and her mother—and to their right was Hermione. She was stood perfectly still as she held a tray full of snacks, and was staring at the floor as she had been taught. Her hair was in a messy bun and the maid's uniform she wore was far too small for her now. So much so her breasts were practically bursting through the shirt, and had she turned around, he was almost positive he would have been able to catch at least a glimpse of the bottom of her arse.
He knew perfectly well he should have been eyeing up his bride-to-be like this, but ever since that kiss three years ago, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Hermione. Nothing else had ever happened between them, they'd gone back to being master-servant and they'd never spoken of it since. It was as though it never happened, and sometimes Draco swore he'd dreamt it, though he knew deep down he hadn't.
"Isn't she beautiful, Draco?" His mother was playing with his bride-to-be's hair. Her name was Astoria Greengrass, she was a year below him at Hogwarts, and was a Pureblooded witch with a reputable family. It was a good match, Draco knew, but he had no interest in the girl. She was pretty, but in that sort of too-perfect way, where it was just too much. Her hair was a deep, dark brown and her eyes to match, and though she had not a blemish on her, Draco thought she looked boring. She had no character and she was tooo thin; it was as though if you touched her, she'd fall over.
"Yes," Draco replied, giving Astoria a curt smile, though his eyes were fixated on Hermione. He could have sworn he saw her grimace a little when he answered that, but he soon convinced himself he was making it up.
"Now," started Astoria's mother, who was an overbearing controlling woman that Draco really had no wish to meet ever again, "I thought we should have the wedding this summer. What say you, Narcissa?"
His mother nodded enthusiastically. "Certainly. August, perhaps?" Astoria's mother agreed. "And the engagement party?"
"Next weekend." It was a bit soon for his liking, especially since he didn't even know Astoria yet, but both mothers agreed everything would be ready by then, and if he didn't know her by next weekend, he certainly would on the night, since he'd have to spend every waking minute of it with her. And Hermione, of course. That was the only upside.
"Draco!" Astoria came through his front door with a giant smile on her face, wearing a yellow dress with sequins all over it. It was far too girly for his liking, though he complimented her on it anyway. "Oh, you are too kind. You look very handsome tonight."
"Thank you," said Draco, and he wanted to do nothing more than smirk, since it was Hermione who had picked out this suit. She'd said it would go well with the event, but there were tears in her eyes when she spoke. He had tried to ask her why, but she'd fobbed him off with some excuse about weddings making all women teary-eyed, and how she was happy for him. As honest as Hermione usually was, he just didn't buy that.
"Excuse me," Astoria said rudely to Hermione, who was standing just behind Draco with her head bowed low. When she was spoken to, she looked up, but still kept her submissive stance. "Can't you go and bother someone else for a bit?"
Hermione looked at Draco for approval, but when he didn't give it, she bit her lip and stayed put, ignoring Astoria's fiery gaze.
"Oh but Draco—" Astoria began to whine, but he cut her off before she could properly get into the swing of it.
"She is my servant, Astoria. She is to be with me at all times. It's not as if we're not alone, she doesn't count as a person, you know. She's only a Mudblood." He was echoing his father's words, but they were hollow. He wasn't sure he believed what he was saying. It seemed to convince Astoria, though, who sniffed haughtily and looped her arm in his, completely cutting Hermione out of his peripheral vision. He assumed this was done on purpose, and wondered if she'd been talking to Pansy, who had years of practice of trying to get rid of Hermione. Why they were so jealous of a Mudblood was beyond him.
"Fine." Astoria dragged him towards a large group of witches and wizards who were conversing in the centre of the room, forcing him to strike up conversation with Theodore Nott. Never had Draco known a man so boring.
As the evening wore on, he realised he liked his bride-to-be even less than he liked Pansy, and that was saying something. At least he knew what Pansy was up to, and when she was going to play a trick or two. With Astoria, it was like a guessing game. He was constantly trying to figure her out and work out why she was doing this, that or the other, and it was just tiring. He hated playing games. It was part of the reason he hated hanging out with Pansy, who did love her games, and, as much as he hated to admit it, liked spending time with Hermione. She wasn't allowed to play games, any kind, but he supposed that if she were, she would refuse them. Books were more her kind of thing, and his, too.
"Hermione," he said in a tone that commanded obedience. "Fetch me another Firewhiskey." He knew he probably shouldn't have another, having had four already and being well past tipsy, but boy did he need it to cope with Astoria. At this rate he'd be an alcoholic before they were married.
"Yes, Master Malfoy." Hermione nodded her head dutifully, and was about to go and get one when Astoria grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.
"I don't think so," she said to Draco, letting go of Hermione. The grasp had been so firm he could see red fingermarks all over Hermione's arm. "You've had more than enough. You're beginning to embarrass me."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "Me embarrass you?" He coughed in disbelief. "I don't think so, not with the way you're carrying on about shoes and handbags and whatever else it is you choose to talk about. Hermione, drink, now."
"Hermione, no," Astoria said through clenched teeth, again pulling her back by her arm. "You are to be my husband, Draco, and I won't have you drinking yourself stupid in public."
"I'm only drinking so much to cope with you," he spat at her, and now he knew he'd had too much. If his mother saw him like this she'd have a field day. "And Hermione is my servant, she obeys me, so get your grubby hands off her and let her get me a drink."
Fury flashed across Astoria's eyes, but she dropped Hermione's arm again. The skin was even redder than before. "When we're married, she'll be our servant, and then I can put her in her place."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He was getting louder now, more irritated, and he could see people beginning to look at them. "She's perfectly well trained and obedient."
"Hmph." Astoria stuck her nose up. "She's far too close to you. It's obvious she fancies you and I don't think it's healthy. If we can't beat it out of her, we'll have to get rid of her."
Draco took a step forward, so he was only inches away from Astoria's face. He must have been starting to scare her, for he saw fear in her eyes as he spoke, calmly but darkly. "I don't think so. She's not going anywhere."
Astoria looked as though she wanted to say something to the contrary, to argue more, but she didn't. She didn't even acknowledge Hermione's presence when she reappeared with his drink.
"Good girl," Draco cooed at Hermione, just to get Astoria's back up even more. Well, if he had to married to the bitch, he could at least make sure he had a good time while he was at it.
Draco aged eighteen
The dreaded wedding day had finally come, and Draco stood at the altar, waiting for his bride-to-be to enter the church. His best man was Blaise, because he couldn't think of anyone else, and the bridesmaids were all Astoria's sister and her friends, which unfortunately included Pansy. And there, behind him, sat on the end of the bench was Hermione, who was looking straight down at the floor. The only reason she'd got such a priority seat was in case he needed anything, otherwise she'd have been relegated to the back, or probably not even invited. He was sure Astoria had tried to cut her out of it several times, but he just wouldn't have it.
The music began to play as Astoria entered the church with her father, her bridesmaids following dutifully behind her. As much as he was pretending to look at his intended, because as everyone in the church was whispering, she did look beautiful, he was actually really seeing Hermione, who had also turned to watch Astoria. It was at this very moment that he realised exactly what it was he'd been feeling for all these years towards Hermione: love.
It troubled him deeply, though. He wasn't supposed to feel anything but contempt and disgust towards her, regardless of the fact she was his servant. Many years ago, Blaise had mentioned that Mudbloods were only good for one thing: sleeping with. But it wasn't like that with Hermione. Yes, he had wanted to lose his virginity to her, but he'd never want to use and abuse her like he knew he was supposed to. He knew that regardless of his feelings, and whether or not she felt the same, nothing could ever come of it.
Draco's life had been planned out from the moment he was born. He was going to marry a lovely, Pureblooded woman, get a career in the Ministry and have many children, and that would have been fine by him, if it weren't for that Pureblooded woman part, because as he knew so very well, Hermione was a Mudblood. Astoria had said a few months ago that she believed Hermione fancied him, felt too much for him, and ever since he'd wondered if she did, or whether it was just Astoria trying to find a reason to get rid of her.
It wasn't as if he could just bring it up, he might startle Hermione and she might do something stupid like tell his parents, and then they'd all be in a right mess. Hermione would be sent away for certain, and he'd never be trusted around Mudbloods again. No, this had to be kept to himself, but he wasn't sure how long that would be possible now that he really understood his feelings.
"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the wedding of Draco Lucius Malfoy to Astoria Greengrass. Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take Astoria Greengrass to be your wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
One day, maybe one day, things would be different. Maybe in the future he could divorce Astoria, marry whom he liked. Perhaps even Hermione. But the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him the truth: that this world was never going to change, no matter how much he willed it so. He took a deep breath.
"I do."