Second Time Around

When the tears faded Hermione looked up and was startled to find she had an audience.

“Is miss alright?” a well dressed house elf asked.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Just wallowing in self pity, I suppose. You’re Jadie?”

“Yes, miss,” the elf said with a curtsy.

“Mr. Malfoy told me you could show me to a room. If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Of course, miss! Follow me!”

Hermione felt just awful taking advantage of the poor thing this way but she really didn’t know her way around. Once the small creature showed her to a lavish room she excused her and used her own devises to draw up a bath in the accompanying bathroom. The tub was large with glistening clawed feet. It filled quickly and she stripped out of her very inappropriate attire and slid into the hot bubbles feeling more than a bit awkward to be sitting naked in a tub in Draco Malfoy’s residence. You have nowhere else to go… she told herself. She sighed into the warmth and was thankful today was her day off. She always took Monday off because that was when Ron had a day off. Now, she supposed, it had been for nothing because it had been a couple of years since he’d taken the day with her.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about him. It’s over; it’s been over for a long time. There’s no use in wasting your life on someone who will never care…

But he used to care so much…he’d been so loving and tender, almost too much so at times.

That was a different time, a different person. That man doesn’t exist anymore, he left you a long time ago.

It still hurt, the dull ache making her rub her palm against her chest. Nothing could take away the sting of his betrayal. He’d been her friend, her lover, her companion. He’d always stuck by her and they’d always worked through the hard times when Harry had been upset, when he’d gone berserk in the fifth year. Ron and she had carried the burden on being best friends to The-Boy-Who-Lived. She should have caught on when he’d left them in the forest so long ago…she should have caught on a million times but she didn’t, she’d refused to. Because he made mistakes and she loved him enough to forget them.

She was done forgiving and forgetting. She was going to take her life in her own hands. She deserved better.

Didn’t she?

When she finished washing she realized she had no clothes to change into. Groaning, she grabbed the towel hanging on a rack on the wall, wrapping herself in the warm folds. She went into the bedroom and scurried to the wardrobe, hoping a robe might be in there.

Nope, no robes. Simply clothes of every sort in exactly her size. She laughed, wondering how many mistresses Malfoy had to require something as elaborate as this. She was actually somewhat jealous. It had been months since she and Ron had…not to mention years since she’d…

With a sigh she grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt, looking in a drawer on the bottom for clean underwear and a bra. She rolled her eyes at the lacy packaged garments but grabbed a light blue pair and tugged them on. The underwear matched the shirt and the dark jeans rode so low the lacy naughties threatened to poke out. Well, the women who wore these clothes probably weren’t of the highest water.

Her stomach grumbled but burned at the thought of food. She knew she had to eat something since she’d been so worried at her solo dinner that she hadn’t eaten anything. So she snuck out of the room, not wanting to disturb Jadie but the little elf popped up beside her anyways.

“Anything I can do for you, miss?” she asked, curtsying again.

“Um, could you point me to the kitchen? You don’t have to take me-,”

“This way, ma’am, we’ll get you fed. No needs to go to the dirty kitchen. In here, go on, sit down. The master said to make sure yous ate so you just sit right there and we’ll bring you some food real quick.”

Hermione started to protest but the little darling ran into the kitchen before she could say anything. Grumbling about the mistreatment of house-elves, Hermione looked around the decadent parlor. It was decorated tastefully in deep blues and greens, an oil painting of a willow hanging over a pond directly in front of her, the branches of the willow tree rocking gently in a breeze. A side table in mahogany sat to her right and several vases and statues adorned the room, softly lit by a lavish chandelier. She had sat there for less than a minute when trays began bobbing their way out of the kitchen, sliding onto the table, the little elves beneath the scurrying away as fast as possible.

“What would miss like to drink? Orange juice? Pumpkin juice? Tea?”

“Tea would be lovely,” she said. What was she to do with all this food? She could feed and army with it! Scrambled eggs, fried eggs, sunny-side up eggs, omelets, toast, bagels, kippers, bacon, sausage, ham, pancakes, waffles, crepes, French toast, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, cherries, oranges, bananas, potatoes, tinned tomatoes and caviar?

“Jadie, really, this is lovely but you didn’t have to go to all this trouble…”

“Does miss not like it?” Jadie asked, ears drooping.

“No, no, no! I love it! Really, it’s fantastic! It looks beautiful and you guys served it so well, but how am I supposed to eat all this food?”

“Master rule, of course,” she stated simply as if everyone would know what “master’s rule” was.

“What is ‘master’s rule’?”

“Whatever doesn’t get eaten is sent to the orphanage in town.”

“Oh,” she said. Really? Was this Malfoy they were talking about? Jadie left with another curtsy and Hermione nibbled a piece of toast. It was true that she had not given Malfoy much thought over the years. She had been pleased, of course, when she heard that he had decided to become a lawyer. A wizarding lawyer, it seemed, was much in the same league as a muggle one except that they didn’t specialize. A wizarding lawyer had to be prepared to take on any type of case in front of the Wizengamot. Most of it was civil and could be handled outside the court, however. She had always wondered why he had chosen that particular path, but was simply glad he had gone out into the world to do good. It was his own sort of penance, she supposed. She would nod to him if she ran into him at the ministry but that was as much contact as the two had. She had seen him at Harry’s wedding, a few ministry galas, but otherwise…

She had gone to him for two reasons: one, he had never lost a case. He was unbeatable in court. Even though she would use up all her savings in his fees, it was worth it to be rid of that bastard who had pledged to love, honor and cherish her for the rest of his life. What a crock. The second reason was because of the words he had uttered so long ago:

Malfoy looked up at her, tears in his eyes, his face gaunt from the time spent in Azkaban.

“I owe you, Granger. Anything, anytime,” he had croaked. “I owe you my life. If there’s anything-,”

“Just make the best of it. Who knows? Maybe I’ll cash in on that promise one of these days,” she answered back with a smile.

She didn’t know whether he remembered the promise or whether that was simply the way he was now, but he had helped her with no questions. Well, alright so there were questions but only because he had to ask them for her case.

Rolling her stiff shoulders she plucked a cherry from the bowl and popped it in her mouth. This whole situation was odd, it shouldn’t be this way. She and Ronald should be happy, making babies and-

Oh, she wanted babies. She ached for them. She kept asking Ron but he always told her ‘when we’re more settled’. They never were it seemed. Then she asked because she thought if they had children they could work things out, they could be happy again. He went right on casting a contraceptive charm.

It didn’t matter. It was better this way. No children to drag through a messy divorce.

Divorce. She couldn’t believe she, Hermione Granger-Weasley, was getting a divorce. She would miss Molly and Arthur and the big dinners and the holidays. It was a shock to realize she would miss his family more than him.

“I see you’ve made a large dent in your breakfast,” a deep drawl accused behind her. Hermione nearly dropped the cup of tea she had been nursing and turned to see Malfoy leaning against the doorway, smirk in place.

“You can’t really expect me to eat all this?” she asked, waving to the overly large selection.

“Of course not, they always outdo themselves. I do expect more than half a piece of toast and a cherry, however.”

She looked down at her plate where the other half of the cold toast and the cherry stem laid, evidence to her picky palate.

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. I just can’t get an appetite.”

“Understandable. Divorce is always hard, but it’s no reason to starve yourself,” he leaned over her and unbelievably, began to fill her plate.

“There, work on that,” he said before scooting around to take a seat to her left. Jadie toppled out of the kitchen carrying a cup of tea.

“Here, sir, your tea,” she said, curtsying when he took it.

“Thank you, Jadie. Just the way I like it.”

The elf blushed and curtsied over and over again as she backed into the kitchen. Malfoy turned to her and started at her look of disgust. “What?”

“It’s degrading, treating her like that! Why should she be forced to serve you, simply because she is smaller than you? It’s disgusting how wizards have mistreated their fellow magical creatures simply because we are homosapiens and therefore think we are better than all others!” Hermione nearly stomped her foot with her vehemence.

“Alright,” he said slowly, setting down his tea. “I seem to have forgotten about spew.”

“It’s not spew, it’s S.P.E.W!” this time, she really did stomp her foot. She had no idea why she was taking this all out of proportion, many wizards kept house-elves and she was forced to endure their careless treatment constantly. The fact that no one seemed to want to help them had become her ultimate reason for leaving the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She had gone in as a young girl, determined to make a difference in the lives of magical creatures, but no one would listen, no one cared. Finally, out of money and out of heart, she quit and was pulled into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, quickly rising in ranks to her current position as Head of Investigations, answering only to Chief Bryce Rangston who took over for Yaxley soon after the war ended. The Chief was fair and strict, traits she found admirable. He didn’t leave room for child’s play; he held a tight rein with a warm smile and made sure things were done when they needed to be.

Malfoy, intelligently, said nothing more on the subject but began to smear marmalade on some toast. He bit into it while she watched.

“Eat,” he said after he’d swallowed. Hermione felt tears welling and willed them back, but they refused.

“What? What did I say? Look, I’m sorry about the S.P.E.W thing, I didn’t mean-,”

“No, no it’s not that. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Just being silly.”

“What is it? You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

“Since when did you become a thera-wizard?” she asked, embarrassment staining her cheeks and as fought to stem the flow of the ridiculous tears.

“Her-Granger, just talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s so stupid!”

“Granger-,”

“You swallowed before you spoke, ok? That’s why I’m crying, that’s why I’m carrying on like a babbling fool because my husband never had the decency to do something like that!”

Excusing herself, Hermione left the room and ran through the house, finding the front door and streaking through. She’d had every intention of finding a bus and riding back to her home but it didn’t seem as if she would have that opportunity. She gasped, wondering why she hadn’t thought to look outside before. The sun was high, sweltering hot and she was looking down on a pristine beach, the ocean undulating below her. Walking slowly down the steps she buried her bare toes in the white sand, the heat searing up through the bottoms of her feet and warming her frozen soul. Where was she?

“Greece,” a voice answered from behind her. “The Island of Katijanik, not too far off of Antikythira. It’s quiet, it’s private. Good place to rest and relax.”

“Is…is there anyone else here?”

“No, it’s a private estate.”

“Your family’s?” she asked.

“No. Mine.”

She hadn’t meant it to sound condescending, but he obviously had a soft spot on this subject.

“It’s breathtaking.”

She was somewhat startled when he was suddenly beside her, his expensive suit pants rolled up to his knees. “You are welcome to come here whenever it pleases you. Always a full staff, you will never be fully alone but alone enough to deal with private issues. I’ve found this place to be good for the soul.”

“That’s very kind but I couldn’t-,”

“You can. The question is, if you want to.”

Hermione thought on that as Malfoy turned away from her and headed back into the large house. Hermione walked the beach for a while, coming to a stop at the edge of the water, watching as it lapped at her toes. Her life was changing right before her eyes and it was of her own doing. Could she do it, could she really handle being a single woman at 25? A failed marriage and career under her belt? What would her parents have said?

Letting out a gust of despair she lifted her face to the sun. There was no turning back now, and she wouldn’t if she could have.

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A/N: Hope I answered a few questions, more answers on the way. Tell me what you think!

XOXO

RynStar15