(no subject)
Author: Irisri
Title: But She Didn't Know
Rating: Hardcore R, light NC-17
Summary: "All I ever wanted was a family," she whispered. "And now, I'll never have it..."
Word Count: 2688, or somewhere around there.
Warnings: Contains sexual situations, character death.
Pairing: Hermione/Lucius, Draco/Hermione
Prompt: Family - Prompt given by my friend Darius.
Disclaimer: HP ain't mine and never will be.
Hermione trudged through the mud and felt the rain hit her face as it poured from the skies. They were crying too. The rain, it pounded furiously against her cheeks, like when you stick your hand out of the window like when you did as a child while your parents are driving, and it's raining, and the rain feels like a million needles stabbing into your skin, but, somehow, it doesn't hurt as bad as it should. And you like the feel of the rain drops, even though it hurts, so you keep your hand out there in the wind and rain until its numb and you can't feel it and your arm is soaked all the way up to your short sleeved shirt.
That was how the rain felt now. And she was drenched. She couldn't decide which she felt more drowned from. The rain, the mud, or the sorrow that made her heart, legs, arms, and eyes heavy.
She couldn't remember how she got here. All she could remember was Harry. "Hermione," she still could hear him whisper, "Your parents died..." And she didn't need to hear the rest. The Killing Curse. She could vividly picture the Dark Mark above her childhood home, the smell of dark magic lingering in the air, and the large, curvy signiture that said, 'I.C'. Inner Circle. Someone in Voldemort's Inner Circle had done this. And it was the last thing she thought before she faded into unconciousness.
He watched her. He would always watch her. And she would be his. She had no say in the matter. She would be his.
He watched her fall, watched her mutter something, and watched her go limp. Finally, after his cold heart gave way to the small sympathy he had for the girl, he picked her up and carried her to where she'd come from. Yes, his mind hissed. She will be mine.
Hermione walked softly down the hallways. Since that night, she'd felt hollow, dead, and not at all in the world.
"Granger." She looked up expectantly.
"You're to come to my office at four. Promptly. I know how you so love coming in late, but severe punishment will ensue if you are." And he turned and left, his expensive black robes billowing out behind him.
She still wasn't talking. No matter what he did, tortured her, taunted her, he would get the same response of hollowness, of blankness, and even when he uttered the word, Mudblood, even when he hissed it in her ear, she still would respond with an expectant stare.
She turned down the hall, clutching her books in front of her chest with one hand, her other in her pocket by her wand.
"Come in," his voice said when she knocked.
She opened the door and walked through it, closing it behind her. She didn't wait for him to offer her to sit down, knowing he wouldn't. She waited. And so did he.
Finally, "Miss Granger." Her head snapped up. There he was, the boy's father. He said her name the same way he had the first time she'd met him. Like she was a dirty germ. For the first time, since her parent's murder (she refused to look at it as death), she had to fight not to say anything.
"Miss Granger," he repeated.
"Father," his son said. "She will not say anything. She has not since the Muggle's death."
They shared a look, and that was all she though suspicious.
"Miss Granger," he said again, for the third time since they had once again met.
She wanted to spit out that she would never talk to him, for he was a Death Eater, and if he so much as touched her, hexes would be on her lips that not even he himself knew.
"It has come to my attention," he said, "That my son, Draco, has an exceeding interest in you. For, he has asked me for your hand in marriage, and I will grant him that request."
What? Her brain dully processed the news. She was supposed to marry Draco Malfoy?
He watched her. Her eyes were still hollowed, her head still cocked to the side, her hair still was unkempt.
Then she stood up and walked out of the room, and closed the door softly behind her.
He stood there a long time. He'd expected her to throw something, to scream, yell, curse, and rant, but she'd only left the room. Regardless, she was still marrying his son. He was going to see to that.
She lay face-down on her bed. She didn't cry, she hadn't for two years. But she still felt her heart walls give way until they were bared to the world. Her apartment small and unfurnished except for a leather sofa, a chair, refridgerater, bed, and small kitchen appliances, felt like it was suffocating her. She needed to get out, but she needed to stay inside too.
Two years, she thought dimly. Two years since her parent's death, Voldemort's death, the War, Ron's death, Ginny's death, Charlie's and Bill's death, and the elder Weasleys' deaths. And they'd all crashed down on her, all in one day. How could so many lives, so many people, end in one day? One hour of time, one place, one moment? She didn't know. And she couldn't care, because if she cared, she'd break and hurt herself.
The next day, she walked into work, got the same sympathic nods, and silently wrote down her results. Regardless that she hadn't talked, she was still the quickest worker, the one who understood what the no one else did because rather than talking all through the meeting, she just watched, and listened.
"Miss Granger." There was his voice again. "Have you considered our proposal?"
She turned around and shook her head.
"Come to my office at five o'clock, Miss Granger." He turned, not waiting for her reply.
She didn't know what led her to the office where he worked, fifteen minutes before five, but she couldn't stop her legs from carrying her there.
She didn't knock, just opened the door, and found him bending a woman's back over the desk where he must have worked. Her legs were around his waist and while his robes kept him and the witch covered, she could easily tell what they were doing. His robes would ripple with every thrust, and the witch's back was arched, the top part of her body naked, for Hermione to see erect nipples glimmering in the low light of the office from what looked like spit.
Suddenly the witch screamed, and he stiffened, and both of their backs arched in harmony. When they both came back to reality, the witch scurried to put on her clothes and rushed out the office door.
Hermione stood there, waiting, too shocked to even move.
Finally, he smoothed his just-barely-past-the-shoulder length hair back, and turned to face her, and didn't bother closing his robes.
Hermione's eyes couldn't help but look at it curiously. She'd never seen one before, not in real life. It was gleaming with the release of both the woman, and some of his too, she could see. It wasn't completely limp, either, but it wasn't completely ready for another round.
Her eyes shot back up to his face.
And he smirked. "Do you find something of interest, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Come in," he commanded suddenly, and Hermione slowly walked in, even though she knew she shouldn't. "Do you want to try?" he whispered.
Hermione shook her head again. She didn't. She wanted this to all be a terrible nightmare.
"Does a cat have your tongue, Miss Granger?" he asked impatiantly. "Or can you just not speak at all?"
She shrugged and nodded towards a picture of his son and his son's mother.
"If you are worried about Narcissa, she is dead, girl, but if you only came here to discuss matremony, then sit down."
She gulped, scared of something she didn't know of.
"I will not rape you. I find that very disatisfying and disgusting, Miss Granger."
That didn't put her at ease at all. She didn't move.
"Sit!" He yelled. She jumped and scurried to do so.
"Miss Granger," he finally said after he'd put on his trousers. "Have you come to an agreement to marrying my son?"
She shook her head.
"Well," he whispered. "Maybe this will help." He opened his small desk drawer and pulled out documents.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
She shook her head again.
"This is ingredients to a formula."
She stared at him blankly.
"A formula that can bring three people back to life," he continued. "And I am willing to give you these if you marry my son."
She stared at him and flicked her wand in the air, writing, Why do you want me to marry him? I'm nothing but a Mudblood.
"Ah, but Miss Granger," he said softly. "He is obsessed with you. He feeds on your presence, on your anger."
She flicked her wand in the air again, writing, I have no anger.
He chuckled. "That is nothing but my job, Miss Granger."
She looked at him blankly.
"He has requested that I make you feel again."
Why am I considering this? she wrote.
"Miss Granger, you are considering this because you want to see your parents alive again."
She felt her heart crumble in defeat. What are the conditions of this marriage? she asked.
After reading the words, he said, "The conditions are simple. You must bare his children and heirs. You also must be more than a dead person watching around with their heart beating."
I cannot do this. I did not ask not to feel
"Yes, this I know, Miss Granger," he replied. "Which is why we are going to be meeting Summer Break and starting our...lessons..."
No she replied.
"Do you want to see your parents again, Miss Granger? Alive and well?" Her wand clattered to the cold stone floor. "Then I suggest you agree."
~*~*~*~*~*~
There was no change in her. He watched her as she practically floated down the hallways. His father had told him that she had walked in on one of his 'secretary shags' and had said not a word. His father had said that not a vase had been thrown, her eyes hadn't flashed, and she'd been perfectly calm through the whole arrangement.
Where was the angry girl he knew from school? Where had she gone?
She would be back, he decided. His father had informed him that his father and the girl would be having lessons during the time when Lucius would get Summer Break, which happened to be when she did.
Yes. His father would help him.
~*~*~*~*~*~
she trudged up the large stairway towards the Manor. A house elf took her coat, and she felt a deep sadness when she didn't feel any anger that the elf had to live the way it did. She walked towards the study with the elf and it left her once they got to the doorway.
"Come in," he said once she'd knocked. The room that should have been filled with papers and desks, was filled instead with chains, knives, whips and paddles.
She took out her wand and wrote, What is all this? You are not using any of this equipment on me.
Her skin felt soft and her lips were curved. He felt them change under his. They bit his lip but he still wrapped her closer to him. One of her legs snaked around his and pulled them out from under him, making them both fall, and she collapsed on his chest. She tried to pull away but he took advantage of the position and pressed one of her hands against her lower area, putting pressure on his. He rolled them both over so she was on bottom and quickly undid his belt and trousers, not even bothering to see if she was ready for him before thrusting into her. Her scream filled the air. She was ready though. So he didn't know why she was crying the way she was. But then a thought came to him.
What if she was a virgin? But she couldn't be. She was twenty three years old. But she was. She clung to him, still crying, and he waited for the pain to subside. And when it finally did, he began to move.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Four weeks had past. Then eight weeks. And then she began to say yes and no. She said it dully, and they didn't expect much more. She stayed at the manor, slowly eating with both watching her. She felt like a bug under a microscope. Finally, she stood up with out so much as a nod and left the table.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Their wedding was scehuled two weeks from now. Hermione's heart felt like she was losing someone, even though she was gaining two people. The third person of the formula was going to be Ginny Weasley, but the girl would be instead of a year younger than her, four years younger. It had taken a year of Lucius' lessons for her to talk again, fully and completely. She'd always thought that she and Ron would get married, but now, she knew it wouldn't be so. She didn't want to bring Ronald back to life only for him to find that she was married to his biggest enemy.
He watched her. She was talking again. He'd been filled with joy he'd not known existed. But he watched her with his father and wondered if she would ever smile softly like that at him. He was not stupid nor blind. She was only marrying him to get her parents back, nothing more. He would accept that, for she would love him in time, the way his mother began loving his father after four years of marriage. He knew that would be how it would go. He knew it.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione watched him. He was supposed to give her away, but she didn't want him to. Today, she was getting married. To his son. And the passion that she was feeling for him was supposed to go to Draco.
He turned to her, his eyes unreadable. "Here's the documents," he said gruffly, handing her a folder.
She nodded. "Thank you," she whispered and looked down at her wedding robes. They were white, and the back had the Malfoy crest emboridered on it. It flowed, and the front was dipped low. She had a crown on her head, one every woman were that was either getting married to a Malfoy or was born a Malfoy. She swallowed hard.
"All my life all I ever wanted was a family," she whispered. "And now, I'll never have it..."
"You will have a son, daughters, and more sons," he said gruffly.
She spun around. "But will I have a family?" she asked. "Will he be there to hold me at night, or will he spend his days at the Ministry? Will he be there to watch his son and daughter fly their first broom..." she lowered her eyes and whispered, "Or will he be like you and have a tutor teach them?" She left the room. She felt empty again, something she hadn't felt in months. She'd felt anger, contempt, but most importantly, she'd felt.
He watched her go. She didn't know how much it pained him to watch her marry his son. She didn't see it that way. She saw a way to get her parents back. It was the reason she had had all those lessons and had started talking again. And then she had thrown in his face the way he had not watched his son grow. He had not been there to tell Draco why his body reacted to seeing a woman for the first time. Who had his son gone to? His godfather, Severus.
He waited in his bedchambers. The ceremony would soon start. His father had completed his task to make his son happy. He tugged on his robes, straightened them, and whispered, "You are mine, my darling."
Hermione sat by her bedpost. She wasn't crying. She still hadn't cried. Should she just admit it to him? Should she get married? Should she tell them to hell with the deal and leave? That was what she should do, but she wanted to see her parents again. But, how did she know those documents were real? She didn't. A knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts.
"He is ready, Miss Granger." She stood up and put her hand on his arm once they got out of her bedchambers. They were halfway to the dining room, where the ceremony would be held, when Hermione pushed him against the wall and kissed him fiercely, pressing her knee up between his legs. She pushed his mouth open with her tongue and bit down on his lip. She pulled away and wiped his blood on the back of her hand. She started to pull away but he yanked her back against him and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned, her mouth vibrating, causing him to groan and pull her hair. She wrapped her legs around his waist, something difficult to do with the robes, and pressed closer.
"You're not marrying him," he whispered as he kissed her neck.
"I'm not," she agreed breathily.
"And you're mine."
"Yes!" She whispered.
"And you love me." He stopped and looked up at her.
She nodded.
"And your parents will still be coming back."
"It's real?"
"Malfoys always honor their deals." And it was the last thing that was said before he yanked her onto the ground and ravished her body.
It was where Draco Malfoy found them naked on the floor, her robes dirty from dust that had been on the floor.
Title: But She Didn't Know
Rating: Hardcore R, light NC-17
Summary: "All I ever wanted was a family," she whispered. "And now, I'll never have it..."
Word Count: 2688, or somewhere around there.
Warnings: Contains sexual situations, character death.
Pairing: Hermione/Lucius, Draco/Hermione
Prompt: Family - Prompt given by my friend Darius.
Disclaimer: HP ain't mine and never will be.
Hermione trudged through the mud and felt the rain hit her face as it poured from the skies. They were crying too. The rain, it pounded furiously against her cheeks, like when you stick your hand out of the window like when you did as a child while your parents are driving, and it's raining, and the rain feels like a million needles stabbing into your skin, but, somehow, it doesn't hurt as bad as it should. And you like the feel of the rain drops, even though it hurts, so you keep your hand out there in the wind and rain until its numb and you can't feel it and your arm is soaked all the way up to your short sleeved shirt.
That was how the rain felt now. And she was drenched. She couldn't decide which she felt more drowned from. The rain, the mud, or the sorrow that made her heart, legs, arms, and eyes heavy.
She couldn't remember how she got here. All she could remember was Harry. "Hermione," she still could hear him whisper, "Your parents died..." And she didn't need to hear the rest. The Killing Curse. She could vividly picture the Dark Mark above her childhood home, the smell of dark magic lingering in the air, and the large, curvy signiture that said, 'I.C'. Inner Circle. Someone in Voldemort's Inner Circle had done this. And it was the last thing she thought before she faded into unconciousness.
He watched her. He would always watch her. And she would be his. She had no say in the matter. She would be his.
He watched her fall, watched her mutter something, and watched her go limp. Finally, after his cold heart gave way to the small sympathy he had for the girl, he picked her up and carried her to where she'd come from. Yes, his mind hissed. She will be mine.
Hermione walked softly down the hallways. Since that night, she'd felt hollow, dead, and not at all in the world.
"Granger." She looked up expectantly.
"You're to come to my office at four. Promptly. I know how you so love coming in late, but severe punishment will ensue if you are." And he turned and left, his expensive black robes billowing out behind him.
She still wasn't talking. No matter what he did, tortured her, taunted her, he would get the same response of hollowness, of blankness, and even when he uttered the word, Mudblood, even when he hissed it in her ear, she still would respond with an expectant stare.
She turned down the hall, clutching her books in front of her chest with one hand, her other in her pocket by her wand.
"Come in," his voice said when she knocked.
She opened the door and walked through it, closing it behind her. She didn't wait for him to offer her to sit down, knowing he wouldn't. She waited. And so did he.
Finally, "Miss Granger." Her head snapped up. There he was, the boy's father. He said her name the same way he had the first time she'd met him. Like she was a dirty germ. For the first time, since her parent's murder (she refused to look at it as death), she had to fight not to say anything.
"Miss Granger," he repeated.
"Father," his son said. "She will not say anything. She has not since the Muggle's death."
They shared a look, and that was all she though suspicious.
"Miss Granger," he said again, for the third time since they had once again met.
She wanted to spit out that she would never talk to him, for he was a Death Eater, and if he so much as touched her, hexes would be on her lips that not even he himself knew.
"It has come to my attention," he said, "That my son, Draco, has an exceeding interest in you. For, he has asked me for your hand in marriage, and I will grant him that request."
What? Her brain dully processed the news. She was supposed to marry Draco Malfoy?
He watched her. Her eyes were still hollowed, her head still cocked to the side, her hair still was unkempt.
Then she stood up and walked out of the room, and closed the door softly behind her.
He stood there a long time. He'd expected her to throw something, to scream, yell, curse, and rant, but she'd only left the room. Regardless, she was still marrying his son. He was going to see to that.
She lay face-down on her bed. She didn't cry, she hadn't for two years. But she still felt her heart walls give way until they were bared to the world. Her apartment small and unfurnished except for a leather sofa, a chair, refridgerater, bed, and small kitchen appliances, felt like it was suffocating her. She needed to get out, but she needed to stay inside too.
Two years, she thought dimly. Two years since her parent's death, Voldemort's death, the War, Ron's death, Ginny's death, Charlie's and Bill's death, and the elder Weasleys' deaths. And they'd all crashed down on her, all in one day. How could so many lives, so many people, end in one day? One hour of time, one place, one moment? She didn't know. And she couldn't care, because if she cared, she'd break and hurt herself.
The next day, she walked into work, got the same sympathic nods, and silently wrote down her results. Regardless that she hadn't talked, she was still the quickest worker, the one who understood what the no one else did because rather than talking all through the meeting, she just watched, and listened.
"Miss Granger." There was his voice again. "Have you considered our proposal?"
She turned around and shook her head.
"Come to my office at five o'clock, Miss Granger." He turned, not waiting for her reply.
She didn't know what led her to the office where he worked, fifteen minutes before five, but she couldn't stop her legs from carrying her there.
She didn't knock, just opened the door, and found him bending a woman's back over the desk where he must have worked. Her legs were around his waist and while his robes kept him and the witch covered, she could easily tell what they were doing. His robes would ripple with every thrust, and the witch's back was arched, the top part of her body naked, for Hermione to see erect nipples glimmering in the low light of the office from what looked like spit.
Suddenly the witch screamed, and he stiffened, and both of their backs arched in harmony. When they both came back to reality, the witch scurried to put on her clothes and rushed out the office door.
Hermione stood there, waiting, too shocked to even move.
Finally, he smoothed his just-barely-past-the-shoulder length hair back, and turned to face her, and didn't bother closing his robes.
Hermione's eyes couldn't help but look at it curiously. She'd never seen one before, not in real life. It was gleaming with the release of both the woman, and some of his too, she could see. It wasn't completely limp, either, but it wasn't completely ready for another round.
Her eyes shot back up to his face.
And he smirked. "Do you find something of interest, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Come in," he commanded suddenly, and Hermione slowly walked in, even though she knew she shouldn't. "Do you want to try?" he whispered.
Hermione shook her head again. She didn't. She wanted this to all be a terrible nightmare.
"Does a cat have your tongue, Miss Granger?" he asked impatiantly. "Or can you just not speak at all?"
She shrugged and nodded towards a picture of his son and his son's mother.
"If you are worried about Narcissa, she is dead, girl, but if you only came here to discuss matremony, then sit down."
She gulped, scared of something she didn't know of.
"I will not rape you. I find that very disatisfying and disgusting, Miss Granger."
That didn't put her at ease at all. She didn't move.
"Sit!" He yelled. She jumped and scurried to do so.
"Miss Granger," he finally said after he'd put on his trousers. "Have you come to an agreement to marrying my son?"
She shook her head.
"Well," he whispered. "Maybe this will help." He opened his small desk drawer and pulled out documents.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
She shook her head again.
"This is ingredients to a formula."
She stared at him blankly.
"A formula that can bring three people back to life," he continued. "And I am willing to give you these if you marry my son."
She stared at him and flicked her wand in the air, writing, Why do you want me to marry him? I'm nothing but a Mudblood.
"Ah, but Miss Granger," he said softly. "He is obsessed with you. He feeds on your presence, on your anger."
She flicked her wand in the air again, writing, I have no anger.
He chuckled. "That is nothing but my job, Miss Granger."
She looked at him blankly.
"He has requested that I make you feel again."
Why am I considering this? she wrote.
"Miss Granger, you are considering this because you want to see your parents alive again."
She felt her heart crumble in defeat. What are the conditions of this marriage? she asked.
After reading the words, he said, "The conditions are simple. You must bare his children and heirs. You also must be more than a dead person watching around with their heart beating."
I cannot do this. I did not ask not to feel
"Yes, this I know, Miss Granger," he replied. "Which is why we are going to be meeting Summer Break and starting our...lessons..."
No she replied.
"Do you want to see your parents again, Miss Granger? Alive and well?" Her wand clattered to the cold stone floor. "Then I suggest you agree."
~*~*~*~*~*~
There was no change in her. He watched her as she practically floated down the hallways. His father had told him that she had walked in on one of his 'secretary shags' and had said not a word. His father had said that not a vase had been thrown, her eyes hadn't flashed, and she'd been perfectly calm through the whole arrangement.
Where was the angry girl he knew from school? Where had she gone?
She would be back, he decided. His father had informed him that his father and the girl would be having lessons during the time when Lucius would get Summer Break, which happened to be when she did.
Yes. His father would help him.
~*~*~*~*~*~
she trudged up the large stairway towards the Manor. A house elf took her coat, and she felt a deep sadness when she didn't feel any anger that the elf had to live the way it did. She walked towards the study with the elf and it left her once they got to the doorway.
"Come in," he said once she'd knocked. The room that should have been filled with papers and desks, was filled instead with chains, knives, whips and paddles.
She took out her wand and wrote, What is all this? You are not using any of this equipment on me.
Her skin felt soft and her lips were curved. He felt them change under his. They bit his lip but he still wrapped her closer to him. One of her legs snaked around his and pulled them out from under him, making them both fall, and she collapsed on his chest. She tried to pull away but he took advantage of the position and pressed one of her hands against her lower area, putting pressure on his. He rolled them both over so she was on bottom and quickly undid his belt and trousers, not even bothering to see if she was ready for him before thrusting into her. Her scream filled the air. She was ready though. So he didn't know why she was crying the way she was. But then a thought came to him.
What if she was a virgin? But she couldn't be. She was twenty three years old. But she was. She clung to him, still crying, and he waited for the pain to subside. And when it finally did, he began to move.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Four weeks had past. Then eight weeks. And then she began to say yes and no. She said it dully, and they didn't expect much more. She stayed at the manor, slowly eating with both watching her. She felt like a bug under a microscope. Finally, she stood up with out so much as a nod and left the table.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Their wedding was scehuled two weeks from now. Hermione's heart felt like she was losing someone, even though she was gaining two people. The third person of the formula was going to be Ginny Weasley, but the girl would be instead of a year younger than her, four years younger. It had taken a year of Lucius' lessons for her to talk again, fully and completely. She'd always thought that she and Ron would get married, but now, she knew it wouldn't be so. She didn't want to bring Ronald back to life only for him to find that she was married to his biggest enemy.
He watched her. She was talking again. He'd been filled with joy he'd not known existed. But he watched her with his father and wondered if she would ever smile softly like that at him. He was not stupid nor blind. She was only marrying him to get her parents back, nothing more. He would accept that, for she would love him in time, the way his mother began loving his father after four years of marriage. He knew that would be how it would go. He knew it.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione watched him. He was supposed to give her away, but she didn't want him to. Today, she was getting married. To his son. And the passion that she was feeling for him was supposed to go to Draco.
He turned to her, his eyes unreadable. "Here's the documents," he said gruffly, handing her a folder.
She nodded. "Thank you," she whispered and looked down at her wedding robes. They were white, and the back had the Malfoy crest emboridered on it. It flowed, and the front was dipped low. She had a crown on her head, one every woman were that was either getting married to a Malfoy or was born a Malfoy. She swallowed hard.
"All my life all I ever wanted was a family," she whispered. "And now, I'll never have it..."
"You will have a son, daughters, and more sons," he said gruffly.
She spun around. "But will I have a family?" she asked. "Will he be there to hold me at night, or will he spend his days at the Ministry? Will he be there to watch his son and daughter fly their first broom..." she lowered her eyes and whispered, "Or will he be like you and have a tutor teach them?" She left the room. She felt empty again, something she hadn't felt in months. She'd felt anger, contempt, but most importantly, she'd felt.
He watched her go. She didn't know how much it pained him to watch her marry his son. She didn't see it that way. She saw a way to get her parents back. It was the reason she had had all those lessons and had started talking again. And then she had thrown in his face the way he had not watched his son grow. He had not been there to tell Draco why his body reacted to seeing a woman for the first time. Who had his son gone to? His godfather, Severus.
He waited in his bedchambers. The ceremony would soon start. His father had completed his task to make his son happy. He tugged on his robes, straightened them, and whispered, "You are mine, my darling."
Hermione sat by her bedpost. She wasn't crying. She still hadn't cried. Should she just admit it to him? Should she get married? Should she tell them to hell with the deal and leave? That was what she should do, but she wanted to see her parents again. But, how did she know those documents were real? She didn't. A knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts.
"He is ready, Miss Granger." She stood up and put her hand on his arm once they got out of her bedchambers. They were halfway to the dining room, where the ceremony would be held, when Hermione pushed him against the wall and kissed him fiercely, pressing her knee up between his legs. She pushed his mouth open with her tongue and bit down on his lip. She pulled away and wiped his blood on the back of her hand. She started to pull away but he yanked her back against him and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned, her mouth vibrating, causing him to groan and pull her hair. She wrapped her legs around his waist, something difficult to do with the robes, and pressed closer.
"You're not marrying him," he whispered as he kissed her neck.
"I'm not," she agreed breathily.
"And you're mine."
"Yes!" She whispered.
"And you love me." He stopped and looked up at her.
She nodded.
"And your parents will still be coming back."
"It's real?"
"Malfoys always honor their deals." And it was the last thing that was said before he yanked her onto the ground and ravished her body.
It was where Draco Malfoy found them naked on the floor, her robes dirty from dust that had been on the floor.