More Than Meets the Eye

Disclaimer: Once again, only the plot is mine. I don't own any of the characters that you recognize and I'm not making any money.


chapter 7

Hermione was amazed. Simply amazed. This wasn't what she had been expecting when she had accepted Draco's invitation to visit one of his family estates in Northern Scotland. In truth the only reason she had accepted was to get away from all the last minute planning for next week's wedding. She had thought that she would be greeted with formality and stiffness. Instead Draco was more relaxed than she had ever seen him. As soon as she had arrived he had taken her on a tour and they were coming to the end of it.

“I'm almost afraid to show you the next room,” he said as he opened a door.

Hermione gasped when she stepped into the room. There was a warm fire blazing in the stone hearth, a leather couch with matching chairs, and a plush throw rug on the floor. But what had caught her eye, and heart, was the books. Everywhere she looked there were shelves of books from floor to ceiling. She quickly moved to scan the titles on the nearest shelf.

“If you like this, wait until you see the library at the manor”, he said smirking at her reaction. “Then again, maybe I don't want to show you that library. It'd be months before I'd be able to convince you to leave.”

“Draco it's beautiful, and I don't just mean the books. The whole place is beautiful. It's so unMalfoy-like.”

“Oh really?” he asked quirking a brow.

“That didn't come out right. What I meant was, I was expecting something so formal and reserved, full of priceless pieces of art. Instead it is warm and inviting, cozy even.”

“That's what the manor is for. It is wonderful for entertaining. I spent most of my childhood there, but I have always preferred this place. And you are right. This place isn't Malfoy like at all. It was one of the properties that my mother brought with her when my parents married. It was in the Black family for sixteen generations. It is still hard to believe that that family has died out. A very sad occurrence for the wizarding world indeed.” He finished with a sigh.

“Why?” she queried.

“What?” Draco asked in shock.

“Oh don't get me wrong. I loved Sirius and we all mourned when he died. But you said it was sad that the family died. What was so special about the Black family?”

“They were a very old, very powerful pureblood family.”

“That's what I don't understand. Whenever I hear a pureblood talk about his or her family line, they always talk about how powerful it is. What they never talk about is what that power is used, or even needed for. I understand the desire for power, I share it, but what good is it to have power if you never use it? Draco what do you plan on doing with your powers?”

“I plan on helping to defeat Voldemort.”

“Good, then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that hopefully this war will be over soon. What are you planning on doing with the rest of your life?”

“Well I would like to have an apprenticeship. After that I am not quite sure.”

“What would you like to apprentice in?” she asked starting to feel like she was interviewing him. Oh well, part of the reason for today's visit was to get to know each other better.

“Either Arithmacy or Tranfiguration.”

“Really?” she asked in surprise. “I thought you didn't like Transfiguration.”

Draco chuckled slightly. “No, I don't particularly like McGonagall. I love Transfiguration”, he corrected.

“So what animal do you hope to have for your animagus?”

Draco looked away from her. “I, uh, already know what my form will be. I'm an unregistered animagus.”

“Draco!” she gasped, unsure if she should be horrified at his disregard for the law or awed at his accomplishment.

“I didn't mean to do it.” At her skeptical look, he sighed and continued. “I was attempting to transfigure into a tree.”

She gaped at him. “You were trying to become a Metamorph?” He nodded. “But Draco, Metamorphs are born. It isn't something that can be learned.”

“Why not Hermione? I know that that is what we have been taught, but if we can learn how to transform into an animal, why not other living things? Or non living for that matter?” he questioned, basking in her awe and respect. Having always been in her shadow, his intelligence and talents had never really been appreciated. As he watched, he saw confusion cloud her eyes.

“Draco, your theory is very complex, and you're already an animagus without any formal training. So why is it that I have top marks in Transfiguration?”

“I thought it best if you received top marks.”

“You purposely lowered your grade?” she gasped.

“Listen,” he sneered. “Some people don't think life will end if they get less than perfect grades.”

“I do not believe that perfect grades are everything,” she argued, feeling a little hurt.

Draco hated seeing her pained expression, but couldn't keep from responding. “Oh yeah? So why are you constantly yelling at, and pushing the Weasel to study? Isn't it your goal to turn him into a wonderful student just like you?”

Hermione snorted. “Oh honestly Draco. Do you actually believe that I think that I can push Ron into getting straight Os? If I truly thought that then someone needs to reserve a room for me at St. Mungo's It doesn't matter what grade he gets as long as he is doing his best. The same goes for you. I know you are competitive and that you care about school. So tell me honestly, why would you intentionally lower your grade?”

“Do you think I want Voldemort to know that I am a great Transfigurist?” he asked and watched her shoulders drop at his answer.

“It just isn't fair Draco. Your theory is brilliant, and you deserve for your talents to be recognized.”

He laughed at her display of the Gryfindor sense of right and wrong. If only life was as black and white as she obviously thought it should be. “Hermione, who told you life was fair?” He watched as the fire returned to her eyes.

“Don't you mock me Malfoy! I know life isn't fair! This whole bloody war isn't fair! I just wish that sometimes it was. I wish that you were free to take advantage of the opportunities you deserve. I wish that I didn't have to worry about all the people I care about being killed. I wish that Harry had had a normal childhood. I wish that I didn't have to choose between what I was and who I am. I even wish that we'd fall in love so this marriage would be less strange. So don't lecture me about the unfairness of life Draco Malfoy, because I damn well know it!” she finished with a sob.

Draco didn't think that he had ever been more shocked in his seventeen years. By the time she had finished her rant her hands were clutching the front of his shirt and there were tears in her eyes. He had never seen her fall apart before. Even when she had attacked him third year, she was more in control. He gently put his arms around her. “Shh...I didn't mean to upset you,” he soothed, stroking her hair. She leaned into his chest and mumbled something. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “What to try that again?”

“I said I hate acting like a girl.”

“Hermione, it's okay to get upset about things. Contrary to the popular Gryfindor belief, it is not a moral failing to not be brave all the time. I know that there was some muggle philosopher who said that the only thing to fear is fear itself, but that is a bunch of crap. There are things out there that should be feared. It is okay to fall apart and curse at the unfairness of life. It's even okay to sometimes wish that life was easier. It's called being honest, which is another bloody virtue that your house is always gushing on about.”

She smiled slightly at his last comment. “Thanks Draco. So now that you've seen me lose it, are you ever going to let me live it down?”

Draco quirked an eyebrow at her. “Hermione, you are going to be my wife. I would never dream of using this against you.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “After all,” he continued. “I may not know you well, but I have seen your reaction to teasing enough to know that if I ever purposely embarrassed you in front of your friends or mine, I would be cut off for a very long time.”

“Ah yes, the wonderful Slytherin virtue of self-centeredness,” she laughed.

“There is nothing wrong with self-preservation,” he responded with his signature smirk. “Now, let's go enjoy the wonderful picnic that the house elves have packed for us.” He sighed softly at her frustrated look. “Okay I know how you feel about the whole house elf issue, and I am well aware that we will need to discuss this, but not today,” he said pulling her into a long kiss to keep her from replying.

A/N: I know that I promised a long chapter, and I did write one. Only it was too long, so I had to divide it into two. This is a little on the short side, but I figured people would rather have me cut it here than in the middle of the first fluffy lime scene of the story. That being said, I just have to edit the next part so I should have it up in a couple of days.