For His Pleasure

A/N - Here you go everyone, a Draco/Hermione interaction...FINALLY!!!

Robins to the Rescue

Draco didn’t really have to wonder which garden his mate occupied. His nose did the job instead, following the pleasant vanilla scent until he finally reached the magnificent French doors to his mother’s garden. He lightly leaned against its frame, and looked out one of the squared windows, surveying the green area.

It was a fancy garden full of flowers, manicured bushes and a fountain birdbath, where Hermione stood at the moment, no doubt admiring a few robins, England’s national birds. As long as Draco could remember, his mother could sit on the garden swing for hours, admiring the scenery of her handiwork. Yes, Narcissa Malfoy actually enjoyed getting her hands and knees dirty as she planted each plant with outmost love and care. Unlike most rich witches, Narcissa never used magic in her gardens, she did what she loved the muggle way.

Early spring always greeted this garden with bursts of color from snowdrops, crocus, daffodils and hellebores. As they fade, the azaleas and rhododendrons begin their show and continue for up to 4 months. Now, the summer brings daylilies, roses and hundreds of perennials. Fall is signaled by the appearance of colchicums, asters, holly and dogwood berries, and continues, with the crisper temperatures, into brilliant autumn foliage displays. Winter is the time for the textures of evergreen and deciduous trees.

Draco smiled gently as he observed Hermione. He couldn’t believe his luck. Although, he put up a front for everyone’s sake with his hatred and hostility toward Hermione, Draco always admired her because deep inside his heart he believed that if it weren’t for the misfortune of being a muggle-born, she would have been the ideal Malfoy bride; proud, smart, and beautiful.

She looked so fragile to him from where she stood, gently patting one of the birds, but he knew she was anything but that. That witch was a rare specimen indeed, never giving anything up without a fight. Draco sighed, realizing that that is exactly what he was going to get from the stubborn Gryffindor before the day was over.

Draco snapped his fingers and one of the house elves appeared. “Get me some fruit cake.” The elf disappeared and then reappeared again with the sweet pastry, nervously handing it the young lord of the manor. As quietly as possible, Draco opened the door and descended the few black marble steps to the garden area. Taking another confident breath of air, Draco walked the bricked pathway to the birdbath, where his mate still observed the birds. Hermione was so occupied with her thoughts she didn’t hear him approach. No real surprise there, he supposed.

“Would you like to feed them?” Draco began, startling Hermione and the birds in the process. He was standing a foot or so away from her. Hermione slowly turned around to look at his pale face and then his outstretched hand. Shrugging lightly, she stretched her hand to the offered treat anyway. Draco broke half of it and placed it in her palm, careful not to make any physical contact, no matter how much he wanted to grasp it and pull her into his embrace. “Unlike most birds, they will actually eat selected pastries from the palm of your hand. Try it.” He gestured at the birdbath.

Hermione turned her back to him to find two extra birds waiting patiently on the aluminum surface. Slowly, not to scare them away, she brought her hand next to the birds. A second later three little heads were bobbing their heads greedily, trying to claim the pastry.

“They are friendly,” Hermione finally stated.

“Humph,” Draco snorted. “They are very territorial and only ‘friendly’ when it serves their purpose.”

“Kind of like you,” she simply said before turning her smirking face to him. “Character-wise, of course.”

“Yes, I suppose.” Draco agreed, no point denying the obvious fact and then he also walked to the birdbath and stretched out his hand. Immediately another group of red-breasted robins swooped down for the treat.

“These are muggle birds.” Hermione stated that fact.

“Yes, and so is this garden,” he informed her. Hermione arched her neatly plucked eyebrow in doubt. “This is one of my mother’s pride and joy because she did all this,” he gestured with the empty hand around the garden, “with her bare hands.”

“No magic?”

“None.”

“It must have taken her a ages to grow such a grand garden,” Hermione said, admiring the beautiful garden again.

“Yes. She’s been at it since I was old enough to remember,” Draco informed her. They stood in total silence for a while, patiently waiting for the birds to finish their breakfast. Once the robins ate their last crumb, they flew up to their respected trees. “Hermione,” he began. “I presume you know what I want to talk to you about.”

“Yes,” she sighed quietly.

“Can we go sit on a swing over there?” He gestured to the swing, which was surrounded by heavy-duty lattice panels, off to the side. The swing was a beautiful craftsmanship, adorned with green vines of white and pink flowers going in and out of the lattice panels.

Hermione nodded and walked toward the swing. She was still wearing her pink tank top and matching pajama bottoms. Her hair was longer than he remembered it to be. Draco watched, mesmerized as the brown waves moved back and forth with the gentle breeze as Hermione gently rocked the swing. Draco couldn’t help but growl quietly at the sight before him. His veela blood rushing south couldn’t be helped either.

Draco set down next to her, pondering where to begin. So far she hadn’t retaliated against him, which honest to gods surprised him. He wanted to keep thing that way. “For what’s it worth, I am glad that it’s you, Granger.” Draco said honestly.

Hermione looked at him in open shock. She defiantly didn’t expect to hear that. If anything, she thought he would start whining about how misfortunate this is all on him, not her, to be in such a predicament; having to be stuck with a mudblood and all. And if he was going to say anything remotely close to that, she was ready to havoc a storm. Hermione was at loss now, however.

“I mean it, Granger.” Draco stated.

“I somehow have a hard time believing that, Malfoy,” she said tartly. “Through out the years you’ve done everything to me and my friends to show otherwise.”

“I know,” he said in defeat. “I can’t do anything to fix that now except say that I am sorry.” She didn’t answer him. “Look, Hermione, I know this is not easy for you. I mean, knowing you hate me and all will not be easy on me either, but we can work at it. Together.”

“You mean you don’t hate me?” She asked credulous.

“No, I haven’t for a few years now.” He looked into her eyes. “Not since the time you slapped me in the third year.”

“Oh?”

“That day had been imprinted in my brain, or better yet my cheek,” he rubbed it. “Because no one ever had the nerve to do what you did.”

Hermione chuckled at the memory. “I must say that felt good, though.”

Taking Hermione’s arm that was closest to him, he pulled her toward his body and whispered hotly, “You can do so again if that would make you feel happy.” Draco couldn’t help but sniff the pleasant aroma radiating from her. “Anything to have you touch me again.”

“Malfoy,” she began, slightly pulling away. “I can’t…”

“Can I hold you?” He asked suddenly, to which she jumped out of the swing as if it was afire. Draco followed her, still holding her hand in his. “Hermione, only one hug to reassure myself that you are really here.” When she didn’t comply right away he whispered hoarsely, “Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.” Honest to Merlin, Draco thought that he is going to burst out of happiness that she was really there and yet frustrated that she seemed so far. “Just a small hug.”

Taking a nervous breath, Hermione stepped closer to Draco and let him embrace her.

“That’s it.” He wrapped his around the small of her back and buried his face in the crock of her neck and hair, taking a deep lingering breath of her feminine scent. He waited until her body relaxed against his before pulling back slightly to look at her shimmering eyes.

“I don’t want this, Malfoy,” she began. “I don’t want any of this.”

“I know,” he agreed.

“We can go around this.” She was beginning to stammer. “I am sure we can find something in a book. We just need time.” She was pleading.

“Time, Granger, is something that we don’t have,” he answered softly, gently rubbing her high cheek bone with the pad of his thumb while the other arm still held her possessively.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her eyes wide with disbelief and worry. Hermione was sure that with little to no persuasion she could get the Malfoys and Snape to help her and Draco to get out of this mess. No one wanted them together so there shouldn’t have been any problems. If the stories she heard were true about their massive library, there was bound to be a book or two somewhere that would help them.

“We just received new information from a valid source about me becoming a veela.”

“You mean the package that your father received?”

“You know about that?”

“Yes, your parents graciously let me borrow the Magical Creature Law book a few hours ago.”

“Than you know…”

“That in order to avoid going to Azkaban for life, I would have to do this? Yes,” she laughed humorlessly and took a few steps back. “Your parents were more than happy to point that page to me as well.” After a moment of silence, Hermione asked, “Aren’t you going to gloat that once again a mudblood gets what she deserves?”

“Don’t say that…that word,” he muttered. “Not when it come to you.”

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it?” She threw at him as a tiny tear escaped her eye. “At least that is what you made me and so many others believe with your constant prejudice.”

“Please,” he stepped toward her and shook her lightly by her shoulders. “As of this moment, you are purer to me than anything else in this hellish world.” He embraced her once again ad whispered into her ear, “I want to prove that to you.”

“I…”

“Shush,” he whispered when she tried to back away. Draco did the unthinkable then. Turning her face up toward his, Draco kissed her mouth so fierce that he felt he was surely bruising her and then pulled his face back again, whispering, “Hermione, if you agree to bond with me, I swear you will never be wanted for anything. I will keep you safe and protected, cherished and satisfied until my last dying breath.” When she just whimpered, he continued. “You and I were made to be together and the fates decided that this is the only way. Don’t you agree?” Her head shook in a negative and he smile at her determination. “We are perfect for each other in every way and you know it. And you must admit that I am the only one you know that could beat you intellectually if I applied myself to the studies as much as you do.” She chuckled and gently hit him on his shoulder. Draco smiled at that. “Give me a chance, Hermione.”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” she stated the obvious.

“Actually, I will give you one,” he stated sadly. “If you won’t choose me or our bond, I will personally write a will, stating that you are not to be imprisoned under any circumstances in case of my demise.”

“But…but you will die if we won’t…”

“As out of character that it may sound, I would rather die than have you be miserable about the choice you had to make for my sake.”

Some choices she had, Hermione thought bitterly. One – she could turn him down which will initiate his death and her imprisonment, two – she could agree to bond with him and spare his life but be miserable all of hers, and three – she could take him up on his offer to let him die and not go to prison, but live with the guilt for the rest of her life. Her choices sucked, plain and simple.

“I don’t want to die and that’s the truth,” he whispered.

“And you won’t,” she assured him softly. He looked sharply at her, relief rushing over his features.

Just like hers, his chin was quivering, “Thank you,” Draco choked as he tightened his hold on her. They stood there for what seemed like forever. Draco only pulled away when he heard her stomach growl. “Have you had any breakfast yet?”

“No,” she admitted. “I couldn’t bring myself to eat with the same people who obliviated my parents, petrified and kidnapped me all in one night.

“Don’t worry about them,” he looked down at his watch. “I am sure that they are all gone about their day except for mother of course.” He started moving back to the house, dragging her along. He needed to feed his mate. He liked meat on his witches and his mate was too thin for his liking.

“But…” she wanted to protest as they ascended the marble steps that led to the manor.

“Don’t worry, Grange,” Draco cut her off as he opened the French door. “My mother loves me to death and will do anything for my pleasure.” He pulled her along, ignoring her protests.

TBC…

A/N: Hello again. I am a very bad person, promising you to update by the end of the weekend with a finished story none-the-less. I was shopping yesterday all day at the JCPenney one-day only sale and came home late last night.

Anyway, sorry about that.

Well as you can see the story is still not finished but coming to its end steadily. Please review and let met me know whether or not you thought I was going to take this approach, birds and all. I thought it was a good chance for Draco to start conversing with Hermione.

I will update soon with the last chapter. Promise.

Olga LaLa Out…

Ps. I guess this story is losing its readers because less and less people review each chapter :(