Catalyst

*A/N* Sorry about the repost. Review responses are now up at http://www.livejournal.com/users/lilycat81/

I forgot the MOST important thing about this chapter. Thanks to gardengirlgarden Michelle for being so gentle and PATIENT as a beta! Sorry about that Michelle, and thanks! :P

Hermione stared at the headline in disbelief. She’d done a double take, scratched her head, reassured herself that it was probably nothing, then read the article, which had done nothing to settle her anxiety. Surely it was just gossip. She took another look.

Merger Between Malfoy and Rousseau Families Goes Beyond Business

She’d assumed it was some alarmist piece of rubbish, probably “exposing” the innocent afternoon and evening. Chantal had spent in London during negotiations. She trusted Draco implicitly and knew that there was nothing more to their meetings than that. She’d not expected to find anything upsetting in the article.

An alliance was recently announced between the respective corporations of the Malfoy and Rousseau families. The young executives met earlier this fall, negotiating terms of the merger. Draco Malfoy and Chantal Rousseau were reportedly seen in several restaurants together before hitting the night clubs in Diagon Alley.

An anonymous source described the two as “quite the handsome couple,” and reported that they appeared to be “quite taken with each other.”


At this description, Hermione felt her stomach turn slightly but quickly dismissed the envious feeling and continued reading.


At the time, the young Malfoy heir was rumored to be involved in a messy entanglement with Hermione Granger, longtime friend and confidante to Harry Potter. Sources report that while the two were seen together frequently, they rarely looked to be enjoying each other’s company.

“She was always yelling at him,” says one close friend who wishes to remain unnamed. “Draco doesn’t need that kind of stress. He’s got enough on his plate without her breathing down his neck constantly, and it’s not as if he doesn’t have options.”

The young lovers apparently called it quits last month after the jealousy and drama became too much to handle. Since that time, Mr. Malfoy was spotted entering the office of an exclusive jewelry designer in wizarding Paris with his parents in tow.

A wizarding photograph sat directly beneath the paragraph, featuring a slightly irritated-looking Draco shooting dark looks at his parents, who were beaming and looking very pleased indeed as they led him into opulent looking shop.

Hermione realized that she was grinding her teeth and forced herself to relax before continuing to read.

Patrons present at the time of the visit report overhearing talk of marriage.

Hermione snorted. Right. “Overhearing” indeed.

The elder Malfoys apparently looked quite pleased and were very vocal in their opinions on both the jewelry and the smartness of the match between their son and his bride of choice. Phrases such as “restoring the standing of the family,” and “excellent publicity,” were used quite freely, bystanders tell us.

Could it be that this new merger will unite the two families in a very important and unexpected way?


Hermione tossed the paper down, a furious scowl on her face, and began pacing the room. It was true that she hadn’t seen much of Draco lately. He’d been very busy with work, as had she. The holidays were approaching, and she’d planned on spending more time with him then, as she’d assumed he’d been planning as well.

A little thread of doubt was niggling at the back of her consciousness. Perhaps she’d misread the situation. It was possible that he was not, in fact, waiting for the holidays to spend some quality time with her, but rather was easing his way out of her life. He’d owled her yesterday to make dinner plans, indicating that he had something serious to discuss with her. She began to feel sick as she imagined him letting her down gently; explaining that they’d had fun together, but that he had obligations and responsibilities as a Malfoy that absolutely must be upheld. Her imagination began to run rampant with horrifying possibilities.

She shook her head, realizing how ridiculous she was being. She, of all people, ought to know not to believe everything she read in the Prophet. Heading for Malfoy Manor, she decided to take a short break from work, just so that she could have some peace once Draco had set her mind at ease.

*********************


Hermione stepped out of the fireplace in Draco’s suite, brushed herself off, and marched to the doorway, seeking him out. She’d searched the entire set of rooms as well as his study before she heard the voices from the solarium. As she came closer, the voices became more distinct and she could make out bits and pieces of what was being said.

“-know how important this is, darling. It simply must be done right,” Narcissa’s voice rang out clearly.

She could make out some indistinct grumbling on Draco’s part.

“Really, Draco, I simply can’t understand your reluctance to accept our assistance.” Lucius was speaking now, his deep baritone voice tinged with haughty amusement as he chastised his son. “This does affect all of us, you know. In truth we have a right to be a part of the proceedings.”

Hermione’s stomach was twisting with anxiety as she approached, hoping against hope that she was gravely misunderstanding the conversation. Surely there was no truth to the article? She felt as though she had entered some sort of nightmare. Draco loved her. He’d never cast her aside to marry some pureblooded hussy out of obligation.

“I understand that,” she heard Draco answer, sounding exasperated, as she stepped into the doorway. “However, as it is my future wife that we are discussing, I believe I shall handle it from here.”

He huffed and turned away to exit the room, catching sight of Hermione. He froze in place and paled considerably, looking shocked. They stared at each other in stunned silence for several seconds.

“Draco?” she whispered, her voice cracking. Her blood was pounding in her ears, disbelief and horror pulsing through her veins. “How could you? All of you….” She turned on her heel before they could witness her meltdown. The surprise and guilt on Lucius and Narcissa’s faces had told her everything that she needed to know. She raced back towards Draco’s suite, headed for the one fireplace that allowed her entrance and exit without assistance from a Malfoy.

She could hear footsteps pounding behind her and dimly registered a male voice shouting her name, imploring her to wait. She’d just crossed the threshold of his bedroom when she was shoved to the ground, trapped beneath a heavily panting Draco.

“Get off me!” she shouted, furious tears streaming down her face. She was in no mood to be trifled with, and he would soon find himself at the wrong end of her wand if he didn’t release her.

“What the hell is your problem?” he shouted back, turning angry grey eyes on her.

“My problem. Oh that’s rich.” She gave a bitter, humorless bark of laughter.

He stared at her, his expression cold and distant. Finally, he pushed off of her and gestured to the fireplace with an exaggerated bow.

“Fine. Go right ahead. If this is your reaction, then I don’t suppose there is anything further to discuss.”

She propped herself up on her elbow, glaring back at him.

“And what did you think my reaction would be, Malfoy?” she spat. “What, were you hoping I’d consent to play lovesick mistress to the duty-bound Malfoy heir? I never would have figured you for such a coward.”

“What?” His expression morphed into one of total confusion. “That doesn’t even make sense, Hermione.”

She didn’t bother to answer as she picked herself up, straightening her clothes and leveling one last withering glare in Draco’s direction. As she neared the fireplace, she felt broad hands on her shoulders, halting her progress.

“Wait.”

She stood stone still, as though compelled to obey.

“What?”

“Will you at least tell me what it is that I’m meant to have done?” His voice was so desperate that she felt compelled to comply. She turned to face him, taken aback by the obvious misery of his expression. “If you won’t marry me, at least tell me what I’ve done to elicit this sort of reaction,” he finished with a broad gesture.

She gaped at him as comprehension slowly dawned on her. She felt her own face pale and her eyes fell closed as she realized exactly how foolish she’d been.

“Marry you?” she repeated numbly. “But I thought that you were merging.”

He stared at her as though she were crazy. “I must admit that I really don’t see what that has to do with anything we’ve been discussing.”

She fished her copy of the Prophet out of the inner pocket of her winter cloak, handing it to him wordlessly. He skimmed it, a pink tinge appearing on his pale cheeks while his lips mashed together, disappearing into a thin line. After several moments he tossed it aside, cursing viciously before looking back to her.

“Why,” he began slowly, obviously struggling to keep his temper, “would you even think of believing such utter rubbish? It says that we split up. Do you remember a break-up?”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Have I behaved in such a manner towards you that you honestly believe me capable of planning a proposal to one of my coworkers while professing to be in love with you?”

“No,” she replied weakly.

“Then why,” he tipped her chin up, forcing her to make eye contact, “would you believe this garbage?”

A fresh wave of shame washed over her as met his gaze.

“I didn’t at first,” she began, still weeping, “but then I realized I hadn’t seen you in so long and I came to find you and heard you talking to your parents, and I just…”

“Assumed,” he filled in for her, raking a hand through his hair and sighing. They stood in silence for several moments before he spoke again. “I’m not exactly sure what to say now.”

It may have been the one and only time that Draco Malfoy found himself at a loss for words. He couldn’t deny the instinct to soothe the distraught witch before him, but he was distinctly uneasy with how quickly she’d bought into the ludicrous story in the Prophet. It had taken little more than a few unsubstantiated rumors to convince her that he was planning on pledging marriage to another woman.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” He didn’t sound angry anymore, but defeated. “Even as I was planning to propose to you…” He trailed off with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know what I have to do to earn your trust.”

She pulled away slightly, looking incredulously into his penetrating grey eyes.

“Oh, Draco.” She knew that nothing she could say would be adequate and was searching for words to explain.

“Maybe you should just go,” he told her quietly, turning away and striding to the door. He’d never been so confused before in his life, and he couldn’t think straight in her presence.

*********


Hermione was burrowed under a blanket on her sofa when Harry’s head popped into her fireplace.

“Hermione, we’ve been looking for you all morning. They said you called in sick.” He paused before tentatively continuing. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

There was muttering in the background on Harry’s end as he turned to confer with his unseen companions. Finally he turned back to her. “We’re coming through.”

Several moments later Ron, Ginny, and Harry stepped out of her fireplace. Ginny immediately moved to Hermione’s side, wrapping an arm around her while Ron and Harry stood awkwardly before her.

“I guess you saw the Prophet.”

Ron and Harry exchanged nervous glances while Ginny patted her comfortingly.

“Yes, but there’s obviously no truth in that article. They didn’t name a single one of their alleged sources, and it was entirely based on conjecture. I’m sure there’s absolutely nothing to worry about,” Ginny concluded.

Hermione flushed and looked down at her hands. “Actually, there was a bit of truth to it.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron’s fists clenching and quickly continued. “But he wasn’t going to marry her. He was going to propose to me.”

“But that’s great news, Hermione!” Ron looked relieved and delighted. “So what’s the problem?”

Harry and Ginny shot him exasperated looks while Hermione laughed hollowly and looked up, her dark eyes glassy with tears.

“Do you honestly think he still wants to marry me?”

“What happened?” Ginny asked slowly.

“Well, I can’t be certain, but it may have had something to do with the fact that I stormed into his house, eavesdropped on his conversation, and accused him of being a coward and a liar while he was discussing the proposal with his parents.”

Harry winced slightly and Ron looked aghast while Ginny just continued to stroke Hermione’s back soothingly.

“Never mind,” she whispered, leaning in to hug her friend tightly. “He’ll come around.”

“He shouldn’t,” wept Hermione miserably. “I’ve behaved abominably and I wouldn’t blame him a bit if he never spoke to me again.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” came a lazy drawl from behind Harry and Ron, who jumped. “That might be a bit rash.” Draco brushed the soot from his clothing as he stepped out of the fireplace.

Hermione’s heart was thudding in her chest as she watched him move towards her slowly. She didn’t dare to hope that he’d forgiven her, but couldn’t stop the rush of happiness that coursed through her veins at the thought. He came to a halt in front of the sofa where she sat and gazed down at her, an unreadable expression on his sharp features. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath as he stood silently.

“I’ve been thinking,” he finally announced, breaking the silence. The butterflies in her tummy seemed to have morphed into stampeding cattle as she waited, and she thought that she’d probably be lucky to make it through the next few minutes without vomiting.

“And I’ve decided that there’s no use putting off the inevitable.”

Her face fell at his words and she looked down at her hands again, fighting back tears. He had finally reached his limit of tolerance for her emotional ineptitude and insecurities.

“We’ll need to begin making arrangements immediately.” He sat down next to her but she refused to meet his eyes.

“What arrangements can there possibly be?” she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

Suddenly she felt a large hand tilting her face towards his and she found herself looking into his intense silvery-grey eyes, full of an emotion that she couldn’t read.

“We’ll also need to find a place of our own, unless you’d like to live in the Manor with my parents.” He shuddered slightly. “And I’m certainly not going to live here.” As if to prove his point, he glanced reproachfully around the room before settling back into the couch.

She stared at him in wonder. “You still want to marry me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well. It certainly appears that way, doesn’t it?”

The past hours had been far too traumatic for Hermione to deal with his snarkiness with her usual aplomb, and she found herself lost for a retort, bursting into tears instead. He was just reaching out for her when he found himself with an armful of weeping female. She attacked his mouth in a frenzy, peppering kisses across his lips and face as if trying to convince herself that he was really there, and back in her arms. To his credit, he laughed softly and held her close as she continued.

“Why did you come back?” she whispered into his neck.

“Because,” he murmured back, his voice low, “no matter how irritating you may be at times, and let me tell you, that’s pretty bloody-“

“Were you coming to a point?”

“I can’t stand to be without you,” he finished, looking slightly uncomfortable.

She thought that she could probably feel herself melting into him as she leaned in once more.

Finally, she pulled back slightly at the sound of a discreet cough. Her head whipped around to see Ron, Harry, and Ginny standing behind her, grinning like maniacs as they watched the display.

“You know,” Ginny began thoughtfully, “I didn’t actually hear a proposal.”

Draco snorted. “As if there’s anything to propose. She’s obviously lost all rational thought already, barging into the Manor and forcing me to tackle her just to get two words in. It’s about time that she had someone to look after her. She’s a bloody menace to society without me.”

Hermione grunted in response, as her scathing glare was temporarily out of commission in her elation. “Please. You know you couldn’t bear to be without me.”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly in a lazy half-smile. “So it would seem,” he whispered, pulling her close again.

**********************


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