Second Time Around

A/N: Snapes_Goddess: Wow, I feel like a complete moron lol. You put the same amount of space between your review and the last little missive I thought it was a whole different review so I was trying to figure out why the person ‘Happy Writing!’ had simply put S_G! :P Excuse my minimal mental capacity.

ANYWAYS….

Her dress: http://www.bridalguide.com/media/images/blogs/dress3.jpg
Her hair: http://www.romance-fire.com/pictures/wedding%20hairstyle%202.jpg
Her shoes: http://media.photobucket.com/image/cream%20colored%20high%20heels/akbuilt/Love%20Honor%20and%20Cherish/020409h.jpg


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Hermione never got to eat lunch with Draco. Instead, she was pulled away on an emergency investigation for a twelve-year-old boy who had decided to try Aparating and splinched himself. They ended up finding his torso in New Guinea where he had landed in the middle of some poor old lady’s tea party. Mass Obliviation insued.

When she finally made it back to the office it was after four and she was called away almost immediately as Mr. Holdings had gone on a complete rage and knocked out their newest investigator with a well placed upper-cut and stole his wand. They’d chased him around the halls until Hermione was able to Stun him and he was taken into a maximum security questioning room so they could finish the interview. This time, Hermione set her two strongest investigators on his case.

After that debacle Hermione was confined to her tiny office where she filled out the paperwork for the latest cases and realized that it was way, way too hot. She shed her jacket, her shoes, and finally her tights before going out to Mary to ask her if she, too felt warm. Her poor secretary was sweating as much as she was and fanning herself with a brief on Shelly Fontain. They inquired with the rest of the office and found out that the Heating Charm had been tampered with and they consequently spent the next three hours baking as they tried to concentrate on cases.

By the time Hermione stumbled into Draco’s office at 11:17, her frizzy hair was plastered to her head, her heels and tights were in one hand, her stuffed briefcase in the other, and her jacket was thrown over her shoulder hiding her unbuttoned shirt. She winced as she remembered the hole in her new skirt and the bruises that were now evident, she was sure, on her left shoulder from falling over in the Bind earlier. Draco looked at her, quirked an eyebrow and burst out into laughter. Hermione had half a mind to tell him off, and was about to, when she looked up at the mirror above his mantle. She looked like hell. She laughed too.

“Rough day?” he asked, coming around the desk to take her briefcase, jacket, shoes and tights while she answered.

“You could say that,” she replied. “Draco, what’re you-?”

Before she knew it his hands were on her upper arms and his mouth was on hers. She melted instantly at the contact and sighed, her knees turning to pudding. His arms drew up her ars as if to cup her face but when he rubbed against her sore shoulder she gasped involuntarily and jerked.

“What? What?” he asked worriedly, stepping back and throwing his hands out to the sides as if she’d scalded him.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s fine. I fell today and hit my shoulder is all; it’s still a little tender.”

Without warning his face turned to stone, his eyes to ice. “He came at you again, didn’t he? Did he hit you? That fucking son-of-a-bitch, I’ll kill him,” he cursed and seized his wand lying on top of his desk, heading for the door before she realized what he was on about and stopped him as he nearly wrenched the door from its hinges.

“NO! No, no no, it’s not Ron! Honestly!” she said when he looked at her disbelieving. “No, it was Mr. Holdings. See, he knew we were on to him so put me in a Body Bind and I fell over trying to get myself free. Seriously, that’s it. You can get a hold of Frank Schmidt if you don’t believe me, he’ll verify.”

Draco stared at her severely for a few moments, looking eerily like his father, until he finally seemed to believe her and relaxed under her hand which was stationed on his forearm to prevent him from beating the shit out of her husband. She was able to drag him back into the room and even allowed him to look at her bruised shoulder so he would stop worrying. It was faint, definitely not the best trophy she’d brought home, but she nearly died when he laid his soft lips against it. He dragged her into the flames and followed, carting all her things. He handed the off to Jadie and told Hermione to get ready for dinner.

“Draco, it’s nearly 11:30,” she said.

“And I’m starved. Twenty minutes, cara.”

More excited than she cared to admit even to herself, she ran up the gilded staircase after Jadie and tore open the wardrobe. Every time she looked in it she swore there were new items among the skanky scraps he deemed as dresses. This time she pulled out an ivory silk spaghetti strap gown. The top was a mesh-type material with small decorative flowers cupping the undersides of her breasts to come together at her cleavage, which was ample in the low cut gown. She felt like a princess, an elegant princess, and drew her hair up with her wand, pulling the sides over to create an image of a hair band and curled the rest into a bun, pulling ringlets down to fall onto her shoulders. She slipped on a pearl bracelet she found in the vanity drawer and had a small feeling that Draco knew she was going to pick this gown. Not wanting to disappoint him, her slathered a dark pink on her lips and lined her eyes with brown, making the eye shadow a medium brown to accent her chocolate orbs. She stepped back to assess herself, slipping into a satiny cream heel with a twist design that led up the top of her foot to the ankle strap. A permanent grin plastered to her face, she hurried down to meet him. When she hit the top of the main stairwell he was there at the bottom, one hand resting casually on the balustrade. He looked up at the click of her heels and stilled his face an unreadable mask as he looked her up and down. Hermione made a slow spin, suddenly wishing she had something to do with her hands. She let her fingers trail on the banister and slowly walked down to him. He met her three stairs up, his hand coming immediately to her face, brushing back a stray hair, his steel eyes deep and secretive.

“Exquisite,” he muttered, his hand finally taking hers and kissing her fingers as he had before every dinner. Somehow, this one felt different.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied, surprised at how breathy she sounded. Well, it really wasn’t her fault. He looked good enough to eat, his black suit accented by a cream colored silk shirt, open at the collar with a little pearl clasp, exactly matching her. Surprise, surprise.

“Shall we go in?” he asked, taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of his elbow. He led her into the dining room and seated her. She remembered sadly that Ron used to do that. Back when he tried. Back when he still loved her.

Shoving the redhead from her mind she smiled at the elves as they trailed in, serving dish after dish. Hermione settled on a grilled salmon stuffed with cream cheese and chives and some rice pilaf and buttered peas. She nibbled on some pita bread as well while she regaled Draco with the specifics of her day, the two of them laughing over the horrendously ridiculous situations she’d been in. She listened intently over a glass of sweet cherry wine while Draco told her about a few of the cases he’d been working on and Hermione was staggered to realize she actually cared about what he was saying. When Ron had spoken about his career, she’d smiled and feigned interest, pretending as if she thought his hobby-gone-too-far was just as important as any other job. But Draco, he did something worthwhile, and he did it well with obvious relish. She admired that of him, the fact that he really did seem to love his job and how far he had come from the slums of his seventeenth year.

“I’m really proud of you, Draco,” she head herself say when they fell into a lull. “You’ve really made something of yourself, of your life. You’re out there, helping people, turning yourself around. You could have just sat by and done nothing, no one would have questioned you, not after what you’d been through. But you didn’t. You stood up, took life in both hands and made better than most. I’m a little bit jealous,” she said with a small smile.

She expected him to be angry and embarrassed, maybe even a little irritated. But the way he responded surprised her even more.

“I’ve been waiting seven years to hear you say that.”

His features were unquestionably serious when she gazed upon him. “Hermione, I’ve been living my life by asking myself everyday if that was the road you would have taken, if that was something you would have done. That day in the court room, you changed my life forever. I’ve spent every minute wondering if you would approve of the life you gave me, the life I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for you. You have no idea what those words mean to me.”

Before she could even think of anything to say he stood and held out his hand. “Come, there’s something I want to show you.”

She took his hand and he led her through the house, her mind working slower than usually as his scent wafted back to her and the feel of his palm against hers, their entwined fingers made her feel weak with want. Her breath was slow and heavy and she wondered at the power he held over her.

He finally drew her into a large room and she figured it had to be his. It was done in deep shades of blue and gold, his bed a deep ocean of blankets. She wondered vaguely if she would end up there tonight and her stomach burned with worry. Did he really expect her to-?

“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you here for that,” he said with a smirk when she saw the directions of her gaze. “Although one day you can rest assured I will have you there and we won’t be leaving it for a very, very long time.”

Hermione shivered in anticipation at his words, forcing herself to think of Ron and how much it had hurt when she had found out about Rebbekah. No matter what he did, she wouldn’t do that to him. A few innocent (HA!) kisses meant nothing. She would hold her vow, even if her heart and her body begged her not to.

“Go on out to the deck and wait for me, I’ll be right out,” Draco murmured into her ear, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. He released her and she walked shakily out onto the balcony through lace covered doors. The scenery was even more beautiful on this side of the house, the city lights far in the distance a comforting scene. She could even hear some saccharine music floating over the water to her, filling her with a sense of sweet heartache. When Draco emerged from the dark room he was holding a mahogany box. He silently handed it to her and she took it curiously. Lifting the lid, she expected to find some rare jewel, a family heirloom, something of great significance. But all she found was a single chain link lying in sharp contrast against a bed of black velvet.

“It’s a link from one of the chains I was in when they dragged me in to meet the Wizengamot. I knew I was meeting my doom that day. My father had already received the Kiss, my mother was sentenced to life. I knew what awaited me.” He smirked at her. “Or at least I thought I did. When you saved my contemptible arse, one of the guards ripped the chain so hard this piece broke off. He shoved it at me and told me to keep it as a reminder that I would never rise above the disgusting vermin of my parents. Or something along those lines,” he chuckled. “Either way, I held on to it. At first it reminded e exactly that. It reminded me of everything I had done in my life, the wrong I had committed, the disgusting human being I was turning out to be. I hated myself. But then I thought of the day I had worn it and I thought of you. Now, you, you had it together, you had your life on track. You’d risked your life to save others time and again and now you were going out in the world to make a difference. When you decided to become my defense that day, you changed my life. I knew right then, sitting in a dirty room at the Leaky Cauldron, that I wanted to do what you had done. I wanted to give people a second chance at life. People could change if they are given the chance. That’s why I became a lawyer, Hermione.”

“Because of…me?” Hermione was speechless. What was she supposed to say? It had happened so long ago…until recently she hadn’t really thought about it much. It was just something she’d done that had created a huge row between her and Ron. It had been a last minute decision when Arthur had come into the Burrow kitchen one morning and told them Draco’s trial would be that day. She rushed to his side, knew he didn’t deserve what he was going to be sentenced to. She had pled for his life, for his soul. She knew he could be better. When she’d actually pulled it off, she’d been in just as much shock as Draco. The Burrow had been silent when she’d arrived and upon telling them she’d gotten him probation, Mrs. Weasley had hugged her and Ron had stormed out and didn’t talk to her for a week. Harry told her later that he thought she’d done the right thing and finally brought Ron around.

“I want you to keep it, Hermione. I want you to know what you do for people. I want you to know the difference you make in people’s lives, in the world. I want you to know that to some people,” he took her chin in his hand. “You are the world.”

He kissed her, softly, deeply. The box would have clattered to the floor if he hadn’t saved it from her limp grip. Setting it on the railing her drew her into his arms and twirled with her, spinning her around and bringing one of her hands to his neck, the other clasped in his. They danced slowly, turning to the music that floated up to them across the waves, riding into their hearts. She settled her head against his heart and breathed him in. This was what she had been missing her whole life and never known. This was the lost piece, the black hole that had filled her heart as the years had gone by. She felt his cheek resting against the top of her head, the warmth of him filling her, warding her from the chill of the sea breeze. The gentle flow of the music, the calming chirp of crickets and the subtle graze of his breath against her skin lulled her into a semi-conscious state. When he carried her back into the bedroom she did not argue as he laid her weary body on his soft sheets, nor when he pulled off her shoes. By the time he had set them on the ground she was asleep, her measured breathing a sure sign. Draco pulled a silk sheet over her body and stoked her cheek, brushing back her chestnut curls. Wishing he could climb into that bed with her, swearing to himself that someday he would, he backed away and settled on his comfortable settee. His eyes on her, Draco eventually drifted off.

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When Hermione woke she was somewhat disoriented. The deep blue silk sheets were not her own, nor were they the ones from the bed Draco had given her to sleep in. She sat up and looked around remembering that she had nearly passed out in Draco’s arms as they’d danced in the moonlight. He’d carried her in here and put her on the bed. She didn’t remember anything after that.

Slightly nervous, she turned to see him in the bed next to her. Except that he wasn’t. Confused, she looked around and located him on a settee by the balcony doors looking highly uncomfortable. Smiling at his thoughtfulness, she slid off the high bed, realizing that she was still in her gown. She padded across the thick cream carpet to him and kneeled by his face which was smashed amusingly against the cushion, his arm flung over the side and resting on the floor, the other tucked beneath him. One leg was stretched over the arm of the settee while the other was crooked at an angle, jutting off the edge. Brushing his golden hair out of his eyes, she smiled. He really was beautiful.

“Draco?” she said softly, not wanting him to have to spend any more time in that uncomfortable position. The sun sneaking up from the water’s edge told her it was still early. “Draco, wake up…”

“Mmm…” was his reply. With a small laugh she said his name a little louder and his arm shot out and grabbed her, dragging her over him as he rolled onto his back. She emitted a small squeak that was instantly drowned out by his lips which covered hers. She moaned deeply as the sensations shot directly to her core and she reveled at her instantaneous reactions to him. It didn’t make any sense, but she went with it, allowing him to kiss her deeply. Until she recalled one morning, when Ron had slept on the couch at her insistence and she had woken him in the same fashion. He’d done similar, grabbing her and kissing her, except he had showered her with apologies that time, insisting that he really hadn’t meant to stay out so late, that he’d lost track of time and that he was a git of the grandest proportions. He’d stayed home with her for a week straight after that and when he went to the bar the next time, he was home by 11:00. She had believed him. That time. And the time after, and the time after. She’d known that she’d not married the brightest wizard of all time, but she loved him anyways. He tried. At least he had then. That was two years ago. He’d stopped caring since.

Hermione pulled away, Draco’s sleepy smile a harsh rush to reality. What was she doing? She was married, married! How many times did she have to remind herself of this fact? She was no better than him, engaging in this sort of thing. Why couldn’t she just let him go? Why did she have to jump from one man to the next? Her stomach burned with guilt or possibly indigestion…oh, gods, it didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was that she find a bathroom very, very soon…

Leaping off him, she ran to the closest door to her, thanking Merlin when it produced a toilet. Slamming the door shut behind her, she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and heaved, the burning growing beyond endurance. Draco knocked, she heard his voice but couldn’t hear the words over the blood pounding in her ears. What the hell was wrong with her? She dry heaved over and over, the burning making her eyes water and her mouth open in a silent scream. It stole the breath from her chest and for a moment she worried that she couldn’t breathe either. The pain was intense, consuming. Another wave of nausea assailed her and she leaned over the toilet.

When she produced nothing and the burning had eased, she grasped the counter with a shaky hand and used it to pull herself up. What had that been all about? One minute her stomach was hurting so bad she thought she was going to chuck up several important organs and the next it was down to a gentle burn, one she’d learned to live with. Too embarrassed to show her face, she thought for a minute about climbing out the window. Instead, she leaned her ear against the door to see if she could hear anything, wishing she had her wand so she could perform the tricky little spell she had picked up several years ago that would allow her to look through the wall, much like Mad-Eye. She missed that crazy man.

On that depressing thought, she sighed and forced herself to open the door to the sunny room where Draco stood from his perch on the bed and hurried over to her.

“Are you alright? Were you sick?”

“No, I’m fine. I thought I was going to be but it was just a false alarm. Too much wine last night,” she smiled. He looked at her incredulously but said nothing. He kissed her sweetly on the head and she itched to get away from him, away from temptation.

“I need to get ready for work…”

When she pulled away, his questioning eyes followed her. Gripping the dress in one hand, she held it up from the floor and hurried back to her own room, back to some type of sanctuary. What had she been thinking of? She couldn’t stay here! Not when the man of her dreams was always about, lavishing her with elaborate dresses and dinners and professing his feelings for her. She should be far, far away until all this was settled. Then she should move even further away to prevent another disaster like the one she’d already been through. Who was to say Draco wouldn’t end up exactly like Ron? Maybe he would get bored of her too, find other, more exciting women and try to hide it out of consideration for her feelings. She didn’t want to go through the heartache again, she never wanted to feel like she did now; a failure, inept, inadequate. She still loved her husband, even after all he had done. If she believed he would ever change, she would probably go back to him. But she couldn’t because he wouldn’t. He would always be Ron, the man she had foolishly allowed herself to fall for. She couldn’t blame him for it, she was boring. She worked insane hours only to come home and immerse herself in more work or a book. She wasn’t an extravagant cook, usually just threw something simple together because she was too tired to do anything else. She hardly ever wanted to go out, preferring to stay at home. She’s always asked why he was doing this to her when instead she should be asking why not?

Hermione grabbed a change of clothes and jumped in the shower, scrubbing her skin raw. She hated that all her favorite shampoos and soaps were there without her bringing her own or asking for them. He just seemed to know. Damn him.

Gods, she was tired…

She finished her routine without thought and dragged on some black slacks and pale lilac blouse. After stuffing her arms in the sleeves of her robes, she collected her briefcase and wand and headed for the office where she would floo back to Draco’s office.

He was there waiting for her. Of course he was. When they flooed to the Ministry he insisted on accompanying her to her office. Nothing she said deterred him so she allowed him to walk her. As she stormed past Mary’s desk who tried to get her attention, she grudgingly let Draco open the door and he preceded her into the room, flinging out an arm to stop her from coming in and pulling his wand, aiming it at something in the room.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” came a far too-familiar voice.

“Ron?” she asked, trying to get past Draco’s barricade.

“I should say the same for you. I am going to have to ask you to leave my client’s office,” Draco commanded in dark tones.

“She’s my wife!” Ron countered and Hermione knew she had to step in before a fight broke out. Pushing her way in front of Draco, she ran into her husband.

“Hermione! What is this about?” he asked, grabbing her arms where she was still sore. Wincing, she pushed Ron’s hands away.

“He’s my lawyer, he’s just trying to protect me-,”

“From what? I’m your husband! I would never hurt you!”

“What the fuck do you call this, Weasley?” Draco screamed, grabbing Hermione’s face and showcasing the fading bruises on her face. Ron blanched. Hermione ripped her face out of Draco’s hands.

“That was an accident.”

“Accident my bleeding arse! Now vacate the premises before I am forced to remove you!” Draco thundered, pulling Hermione back, out of reach of Ron.

“Going to remove me, eh? Go on, try your best,” Ron said, pulling out his own wand. “She’s my wife and I have every right to be here.”

“Not for long,” Draco snarled.

“We’ll see about that-,” Ron drew back his wand, preparing to cast a spell but Hermione barreled in front of Draco, her arms reaching out to stop her husband from hurting him.

“Ron, stop! Stop! Put it away, just calm down for a minute!”

“Hermione, move out of the way,” Ron said, reaching out and grabbing her hand, pulling her to him. Draco snagged her other hand as it flailed out for balance and pulled it as well and she suddenly felt like the rope in tug-of-war.

“STOP!” she screeched, yanking both of her arms into her body so hard the men let go. Mary burst into the room at her cry but Hermione ignored her for the time being.

“I am not a toy to be fought over! Put away your wands immediately before I have you both contained! In case you forget, I am the Head of Investigations for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and can have you both arrested and thrown in holding cells for drawing wands in the office of an official! Now cease this pitiable affair and lower your wands!”

The two men huffed and puffed and finally lowered their wands, glaring at each other as if they could simply melt the other man with a stare.

“Thank you. Now that we have come to some degree of sanity, Draco, if you could please give me and Ron a moment-,”

“Draco? DRACO? So the rumors are true, are they? You two are having an affair? Oh that’s just rich!” Ron yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “You leave me for my supposed affair and you turn around and start banging this piece of shite?”

“I am twice the man you will ever be,” Draco snarled. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the one decking my wife.”

“It was an accident!”

“ENOUGH!” Hermione screamed so loud her throat scratched and she swore some of the ceiling dust floated down upon them. “Mary, please escort Mr. Malfoy back to his office and start some tea. Ron, sit down or I will escort you myself to security!”

They both looked about to tell her off but she glared menacingly and they ceded. Mary looked terrified to lead Draco away but did so and Hermione followed them to the door where she snapped it shut.

“Look, Ronald, I don’t know why you’re here but I suggest you leave because I have nothing to say to you and you have nothing that I want to hear.”

“Hermione, please, just give me a minute-,”

“For what, Ron? So you can have another go at me?”

“Hermione I told you I was sorry! I am! I didn’t mean to, honest! You know how I get!”

“Yes,” she laughed darkly. “I do. So if you would be kind enough to leave me I have a meeting at ten I need to prepare for,” she lied and shuffled some papers on her desk.

“Can’t you reschedule? For the sake of our marriage?”

“No, Ron, I can’t. Especially for the sake of our marriage. Look,” she sighed, ceasing her movements and looking at him straight in the face for the first time that morning. “I love you. Still. But this can’t go on. Two years ago I would have given anything to keep us together, but I can see now that it’s just not going to happen. I can’t forgive you for the things you’ve done to me, but I can give you my sympathies. We’re not happy anymore, I have a feeling, deep inside, that we never really were. We had fun while it lasted, but I’m done with the games now. I deserve more. You deserve someone who can give you the things you need. We can’t keep living a lie, not when there’s more life out there to be led. This is the end, Ron. We gave it our best shot but now it’s over. You safely secured that with your actions. Now please leave me be, I have things to do.”

Fat tears leaked from his big blues eyes and down his freckled face. He rubbed at them with the back of his sleeve and Hermione felt her own threatening; she had to swallow several times. He stood and she thought he was going to leave but he leapt the desk and had her in a tight embrace before she could register what was happening.

“I’m sorry, ’Mione! I’m so sorry for everything! I was the w-worst husband ever and I wish I could make it up to you, but I can’t! You’re r-right, like always. I tried, but I’m not like you, I’m not that s-strong. I didn’t mean to, ’Mione, honest, I didn’t mean to fall in l-love with her, it just happened! I didn’t kn-know what to do! I still love you, but it’s not the same, you know?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, I do.” And she did, it was exactly how she felt for Draco.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be m-more, couldn’t be better. I tried, Hermione, (sniff), I tried so hard not to like her because I loved you but it wasn’t the same way. I think I’ve always l-loved you like this, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t know then that there was a d-difference, you were my best friend, my everything. I looked up to you and respected you and I still do, even if I don’t show it. I’m a dolt, a f-fool, I know, but I can’t help what I feel. I should have t-told you, I know, but I didn’t w-want to hurt you! You understand?”

“Yes, Ron. I understand. But I can’t justify it. I spent too many nights crying myself to sleep to say it was okay, because it wasn’t.”

“N-no, no! I don’t want you to, I don’t expect you to! There’s no excuse, none, but I-I don’t want you to think I did it because I hate you or anything, I snuck around because I cared too much about you.” He pulled her away gently and she looked up at her husband. “Hermione, if I could do it all over again, I would have told you right away. I wish I had, but I didn’t and I can’t take that back. Just like I can’t take back the other night. That wasn’t me, I don’t do that! I didn’t mean to, honest, it was just…you hit the mark right on the head. I wanted you to have slept around; it would have made me feel less like scum. I knew you wouldn’t, you’re better than me…you’re too good for me. I’m sorry for all I’ve put you through and if this is what you really want…” He waited for her to nod. “Then I’ll sign the papers. If divorcing you is the only thing I can do to make you happy, I’ll do it. I don’t want to see you hurt again. I know you’ll never forgive me, but maybe someday…maybe we’ll see each other again…”

He looked so wretched, standing there, giving her what she wanted. She knew that somewhere in him it’s what he wanted as well. He really loved Rebekkah, and she could understand how hard it must have been for him to love someone that fiercely and be married to someone else. That’s why she couldn’t hate him.

“I’ll leave you alone, for however long you want. For my sake, I hope it’s not forever. I love you,” he said, more tears leaking forth. She remembered him saying that in exactly the same way on their wedding day, in a stifling dress robe when he’d seen her in her dress before the wedding. She had screamed at him something terrible but he’d just stood there crying and told her he loved her. She’d cried then too, but now, she couldn’t bring forth any tears. Her heart was empty.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I wish you the best,” she said honestly.

“You too. I hope you find someone who can give you everything I couldn’t. Even if it is the ferret,” Ron said with a crooked smile. She forced one back and he left, with one last look. When he shut the door Hermione looked down at the ring she couldn’t take off until their contract was dissolved by the Wizengamot. Before she knew her legs had even given out, she was in a crumpled heap on the floor, her heart bursting forth in great, haggard sobs. Clutching at the grey carpet, she rubbed her cheek against it and allowed her sorrow to overwhelm her and watched as the tears soaked into it, darkening the color. Then her eyes closed against the pain and she wailed.

Over by the door, unnoticed by the woman on the floor, Draco gripped the molding so hard it cracked. He fought the urge to go to her after he had threatened Ron to within an inch of his life. Mary had been required to rip the two of them apart and though Ron was the taller man, he cowered under Draco’s menacing glare. He had sworn up and down all they had done was talk and the red rimmed eyes on the man had cooled Draco’s temper. He’d allowed Weasley to leave under the condition that if he ever made contact with his client again that he would have to go through him first.

Mary pushed by him and knelt by Hermione, pulling her into her lap. Hermione clung to the woman and he couldn’t see her face, but he felt every sob tear at his soul. He itched to go to her but something had happened that morning that had scared her, something he didn’t know what to do about. She’d nearly been sick and he knew it was from the stress, it was killing her.

Mary was whispering something to her and Hermione was nodding. She looked up and their eyes locked her watery chocolate ones to his hard grey ones. Suddenly, she tore from Mary’s grasp and stumbled into his, burying her wet face into the crook of his neck.

“Take me home,” she sobbed. “Please, just take me home.

Draco said nothing, just dipped his arm beneath her legs and picked her up.

“Hang on to me, alright? It’s going to be fine,” he cooed and took the wand Mary held out to him. He held the small woman close and walked back to his office, ignoring the stares and the muted voices, the murmurs. He lashed out at a photographer and quickened his steps, finally reaching the refuge of his office. He dropped her legs gently and held her tight as they flooed, not letting her go for even that amount of time. When they landed he expected her to say something along the lines of ‘this isn’t my home,’, but she didn’t. She allowed him to pick her up again and he carried her to her room, laying her down. He started to leave but the pressure of her hand on his arm stilled him.

“Stay.”

Broken, he lay next to her and she curled into his body. He gripped her tighter than was necessary but didn’t care. She was his for however long she needed him and he was going to take every second he could get.

================================================


“He came in with her?”

“Before her. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter? What are you talking about?” the large man asked, leaning back in his chair. “He’s going against the warnings, something has to be done!”

“I never agreed to harming her! She’s not to be hurt, you hear me? I’ll kill you before I let you hurt her! This was only supposed to scare him-,”

“She won’t come to harm, relax. We just have to scare her a little, it’s a necessary action-,”

“No, this has gone too far. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m calling it off.”

“Oh really? What about the other part of the bargain? Did you forget about that?”

The other man paled. “No. But it doesn’t matter; I’ll figure it out some way-,”

“No, you won’t. It’s already in motion. The boys are in their places. This will be taken care of as I directed.”

“I didn’t go to you for this! This wasn’t part of the deal!” His panicked voice rose.

“It is now. And if you have any ideas about turning me in, your career will be gone before you can blink. Everything you know will be down the drain.”

“It’s not important, I don’t care about that!”

“You will. And what about her? Do you care about her?”

“Who?” His voice stammered.

The large man snapped his fingers and a dark haired girl appeared, flanked by two large men and wrapped in cords, her mouth taped over.

“No!” the man creid, rushing to her, but he was stalled by another guard. “What have you done? Let her go!”

“I will, as long as you go through with it. I will get what I want. Do you understand?”

The second man nodded, his eyes on the girl. “Anything…a-anything, just don’t hurt her.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

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XOXO

RynStar15