Hermione knew she should probably feel bad about going off on Harry last night but she hadn't really been in the right frame of mind when she met him and Ginny for dinner. She'd been so angry over the Ministry's match assignment that she hadn't really been thinking clearly.
She passed by Terry Boot and Katie Bell on her way into her office, fully intent on writing a short note of apology to her best friend. News had apparently spread around the office of her match as she was greeted with a mixture of grins and grimaces depending on who she made eye contact with. Half way through she just decided to stop greeting everyone good morning and rushed to shut her office door behind herself.
She leaned against the door for a moment to take a deep breath before pushing off and rounding her desk to drop her bag. She was just taking her seat when she noticed the three single roses, each a different color, and a folded note on faded red parchment on her desk.
She touched the petals of each rose, admiring the colors: one yellow, one white, and one red. Friendship, new starts, and love.
She gulped just thinking of what the letter could possibly contain but with shaky hands, opened it anyway. His script was small but rough. A far contrast to how she'd imagine a Maloy's handwriting to look.
Hermione,
I realize that this situation is not ideal for you but I'd like to put my best foot forward and make the best of the situation we're in together. If you're free, please meet me after work at Le Grand in Diagon Alley at six o'clock. Please write your response at the bottom of this note.
Draco Malfoy
Odd. He'd addressed her by her first name. They didn't speak often at work but he usually still settled on Granger. Half the time he still called Harry by his surname as well.
While she'd been hoping to have more time to gather her thoughts, Hermione knew she couldn't avoid him forever. The Ministry was only giving everyone a month to get themselves together and plan an elaborate wedding if they so wished, or merely opt for a simple ceremony officiated by Kingsley himself.
Picking up her quill, she quickly wrote her acceptance and watched as the parchment burst into a tiny flame before disappearing into a puff of smoke. Leave it to him to use theatrics, she thought wryly.
She met with Harry in the Ministry cafeteria for lunch later and formally apologized for being so horrible the night before.
"Hermione, it's fine," he assured her with a lopsided grin. "This is nothing short of odd. Ginny and I will be there for you the entire way. I promise."
And it was all she needed to hear. Between him and the Weasleys, they were practically all she had. She'd found her parents after the war was over but something had gone wrong with her spell and she hadn't been able to reverse it like she'd originally planned.
She returned from Australia distraught and moody. Ron had been of no help and her mood had likely been a contributing factor to their downfall. One of many factors really. She'd fallen back pretty hard on Ginny during that time and was ever thankful for her.
Before she left Harry at lunch, he'd grabbed her arm and imparted some last words. "Give him a chance, Hermione. I know it sounds crazy but he's not the same person he used to be. It's hard for people to know that because he mostly keeps to himself but I promise you he's changed."
And she truly wouldn't know how much he'd changed. Even though she was aware that he and Harry now had a good rapport at work, no one ever mentioned him to her. It wasn't exactly a secret that she didn't feel comfortable around him. She'd been wary when he'd first been hired at the Ministry after Hogwarts.
Harry's words buzzed in her head as she worked herself to the bone for the rest of the day. She ignored the random glances and stares from her co-workers, nearly to the point of hexing poor Dennis Creevey. The ticking of the clock on her wall grated on her nerves and she refused to leave a second before six o'clock. Her normal inclination to be early be damned, she wasn't going to give him the honor.
By two minutes past, she couldn't ignore that 'you're late' itch any longer and retrieved the long coat she'd brought with her along with her bag before making the trek to the nearest floo to The Leaky Cauldron. The green flames enveloped her and she landed as gracefully as one could in the tavern. She dusted herself off and made her way to Diagon Alley's entrance.
Being that she lived in Muggle London, she didn't often come here during the week after work. The alley was full but not near as chaotic as it could be on the weekend. She'd never been to the restaurant as she rarely ate anywhere so upscale. But being that it was Malfoy inviting her, she wasn't surprised.
She spotted him before he saw her. He was pacing rather anxiously in front of the entrance of the restaurant which seemed peculiar for him. She took a moment to observe him for the first time from a distance. Really looked at him for the first time since the war had ended.
Draco Malfoy wasn't the thin, wiry boy he'd once been. It appeared he'd grown a few inches after the war; standing at what she guessed was close to 6'2". He'd tower over her without her heels. He'd filled out a bit as well and his fine clothes no longer hung on him. Instead, he filled them the way any other twenty-four year old man would. If she could forget just who he was for a moment she'd admit that he wasn't that bad to look at either.
While his hair was still fair, he kept it cropped short on the sides and combed back on top. She'd seen the style on many muggle men lately and hated to admit that it suited him. If he were anyone else, she'd likely admit her attraction to him.
But he was still Draco Malfoy. And she was still Hermione Granger. Pureblood. Muggle-born.
With a sigh, she finally pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of him.
Draco lifted his eyes from the sidewalk and up the length of her, his breath catching in his throat along the way. Another beautiful but demure outfit today, he observed. A simple, long-sleeved blue dress with an elegant V cut. Her body was small with gentle curves that he was certain she'd never let him touch. After all, touching him would taint her.
"Thanks for coming," he spoke quietly.
Hermione merely nodded and walked through the door as he held it open for her.
"Mr. Malfoy," the host greeted when he saw them approach. He levitated two menus in front of him and waved a hand. "Please follow me. Your table is ready for you."
Hermione followed the host and was mildly surprised when Draco stepped forward to pull her chair out for her. After seating her, he slipped off his suit jacket and draped it on the back of his chair leaving him with his waistcoat over his dress shirt, sleeves not rolled past mid forearm. She figured she knew why that was and thanked Merlin she didn't have to look at the ugly mark she knew was magically etched into his skin.
The host took Draco's order of wine and with a wave of his wand filled two glasses on their table before disappearing.
"I can honestly say I've never been here before," Hermione spoke quietly before taking a sip from her glass. Might as well take advantage of Malfoy's good taste if she had to be here.
"I hope it's alright. I honestly didn't know the best place to have this conversation," Draco admitted with a grimace.
She shrugged and folded her hands in her lap primly and looked at him expectantly. Oddly, he seemed less irritable than the last time she'd spoken to him in Harry's office. Resigned almost. Perhaps he'd accepted his fate for the next year—married to the woman he hated the most in school.
"So, you wanted to talk."
He reached up to loosen his tie a bit. Another nervous gesture, she silently noted.
"Well, I'll give you credit for getting straight to the point. I figured we needed to talk. Discuss how to go about this. The Ministry hasn't given us much time."
Hermione nodded, her expression a bit solemn. It was a bit gut-wrenching to admit that this was real but it certainly was. A few days ago she had her whole life to find a man and get married. Now she'd be married in less than a month to Draco Malfoy. The Ministry wanted everyone married off and producing children as quickly as possible.
The idea of sleeping with him affected her oddly. While she could admit he wasn't hard on the eyes, there was too much between them to imagine putting herself into such a vulnerable position with him.
A brief image of herself pinned under him amongst a flurry of sheets as he ravished her flitted through her mind and she quickly pushed the disturbing image away.
"Where should we start?" As odd as it was for her, she hadn't made a list. Normally she would have made a list three feet long but she honestly hadn't been able to make herself think about it. Her mind was an unusual mess.
Draco folded his hands on the tabletop in front of him. "Well, what about living arrangements?"
"I have a small flat in muggle London. Probably not what you're used to."
Draco could sense her disdain but merely shrugged. "I have a decent sized home in the same neighborhood as the Potters just outside of London."
He'd be lying if he said her look of surprise didn't amuse him. Obviously, she expected something different. Likely the Manor.
"You don't still live in your family's manor home?"
He shook his head and reached for his wine. Liquid courage. "No, not since the war. I sold the property to the Ministry and told them to do whatever they wished with it. There's been some debate but I heard over the summer that they're contemplating making a museum of it. Rubbish idea if you ask me."
Trying to hide her shock, she asked, "What would you have done with it then?"
He shrugged, "Demolished it. Maybe make a recreational quidditch pitch on the land. Anyway, it sounds like I have more space. If you'd like to move into my home that could be arranged. It's your choice."
He watched her nod but a look of uncertainty crossed her features. "What about sleeping arrangements?"
He nodded knowingly. He didn't really expect her to share a bed with him. It was obvious she planned on getting through the year and then getting reassigned.
"You'll have your own room, I promise. You can even put up your own wards to keep me out if you feel it's necessary."
She seemed to relax at that and nodded in agreement. He watched her chew the corner of her lip as she stared at the silverware on the table. Obviously, there was something else.
"Malfoy—"
"Draco," he corrected her. He didn't plan on making many demands of her but he would ask that she use his given name.
He was well past name calling himself. Every day was a struggle when he knew people were looking at him and thinking one thing: death eater. He had to put his best foot forward in everything. Many had accepted him; still there were others that did not. He had to be extra careful every single day.
Of all those who had supposedly been rehabilitated after the war, he was one of the few who cared now what others thought.
Hermione gave him a strange look but nodded anyway.
"Draco," she paused, testing the feel of his name on her tongue. She didn't know why but she almost expected it to burn. "I have one serious demand for this situation."
"If I know anything at all about you then you likely have many," he quipped good naturedly.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but pushed forward. "No extramarital affairs while we're married. And I mean it. It's bad enough that the ministry is choosing for us but I'm not going to look like a fool while my husband gallivants around with other women."
His eyes narrowed subtly. "What makes you think I would?"
She shrugged and reached for her wine again. "I don't know that you would or wouldn't. Frankly, I know nothing about your dating habits but given that this isn't a marriage based upon love I don't really want to leave anything to chance."
He had to concede that it was a fair point. He knew slightly more about her dating habits—which seemed nonexistent, something he didn't understand—but his interest in her was obviously different.
"I agree but I expect the same of you."
She snorted rather loudly, "Right, like I'm the type to cheat. Fine, Draco. Agreed."
"I'll even offer you an unbreakable vow to prove it."
She looked a bit surprised but nodded anyway. "Fine by me."
"Any other concerns you have," Draco asked after a beat.
Hermione stared at him, really looking into his eyes for once. A storm of grey stared back into her own.
"What are you going to tell your parents?"
Draco swallowed and reached for his glass again. A rather loaded question but he wouldn't shy away. Ever since the war ended, he reveled in the fact that he had nothing to hide. He was clean, or as clean as an ex-death eater could be, and he rather enjoyed being honest. Quite a striking difference from who he once was.
"I don't speak to my father unless the ministry forces me to do so. He can rot in his cell for all I care." He breathed deeply for a moment as the next part hurt him the most. "My mother—writes occasionally from her home in France. I respond with short messages but we don't really speak. She still wishes my father hadn't been convicted and I disagree. In short, you have nothing to worry about. No one in my family will ever so much as breathe the same air as you."
Hermione shifted in her seat but held his gaze. She couldn't quite tell if that last comment was meant to be condescending or not. "You still didn't answer my question."
He just now realized that he'd divulged more than she'd originally asked. "I'll tell my mother, should she inquire, and being that it made the Daily Prophet she very well might, that I'm marrying Hermione Granger. Nothing more. She doesn't need details on my life."
The information he'd shared confused her somewhat. She knew he kept a low profile at work but she heard far more distain in his voice talking about his parents than she imagined. Harry's words from earlier came back to her and she felt compelled to consider them more seriously.
"What now," she asked.
Draco considered briefly asking about her parents but he recalled Harry saying she hadn't been able to reverse her obliviate spell after the war ended. He didn't really want to pick at what could be a raw wound.
"Living arrangements, no cheating, no in-laws…oh, there is one more thing." Draco reached into his waistcoat pocket and retrieved a small black box. He slid it across the table with one finger and lifted an eyebrow at her expectantly.
Hermione's heart stopped for a millisecond and jumped upon beating again. Surely, he hadn't.
Engagement rings were a muggle tradition that only some of the wizarding community followed. And that was within willing, loving marriages.
With shaky hands, she reached for the box and opened the lid gently. A large, solitaire asscher cut diamond ring glinted up at her. Cascading down the thin band were simple, tiny topaz stones.
"I know it's a muggle tradition but you're a muggle-born and spent most of your life in that world outside of Hogwarts. I figured it was only appropriate."
"You didn't have to," she whispered.
Sure, she'd daydreamed like any other woman of the day a man would propose and the ring he'd present her with. Then upon entering the wizarding world she also expected that she may not be presented with such a ring given the different culture and traditions should she marry a wizard.
While odd that he'd chosen to follow a muggle tradition, leave it to Draco Malfoy to have picked the perfect ring.
"I know I didn't have to," he agreed staring at her unsurely, "But I wanted to. Even if only on paper, you're going to be my wife. I have a little pride left," he joked but his smile was slight. "If you don't want to wear it, you don't have to. It's up to you. I know what it represents. Just didn't seem fair to have everything about a marriage stripped from you."
Hermione finally managed the courage to meet his eyes. "Why the topaz?"
Draco reached one hand to scratch the back of his neck and averted his gaze. He'd been hoping she wouldn't ask. It had probably been a mistake to have the ring made especially for her but he hadn't been able to resist. He wanted at least one thing to be real between them. Even if it was only the blasted ring.
He wanted to tell her but frankly didn't have the guts. He was a coward. Some things never changed.
So he merely shrugged and left it up in the air. Maybe one day he'd get the nerve to tell her. She was bloody intimidating though.
Hermione nodded in acceptance. She obviously wasn't going to force the issue.
"I'll think about it," she finally said.
They enjoyed a light dinner and discussed the next steps, agreeing to move forward and hold the ceremony in two weeks. Draco would send a wizarding moving company to gather most of her things from her flat and she would move the day of the ceremony.
Draco paid, despite her assistance that it wasn't necessary, and they walked side by side to the nearest apparation point.
"Thank you for meeting with me," he told her when they reached the stop.
"Thank you for being civil given our past," she quipped.
The bright expression on his face fell and he nodded solemnly. "I haven't apologized yet but I'm sorry that it's me. I know that you don't particularly like me. I'm not that person anymore. I hope you'll give me the chance to show you."
Before she could respond, he was gone with an audible crack.
Hermione sighed. She was pleased with the way dinner had gone but terribly confused. In moments like just now, his face went dark and reminded her of how he was at Hogwarts. But she had to admit, despite being a bit stiff, he hadn't been terrible to be around. The conflicting expectations of who she thought he was and who he seemed to be were making her head spin.
She knew she needed to get home but she almost felt compelled to make a stop first on the way. She quickly apparated to Harry and Ginny's front steps and knocked. She glanced at her watch. It was only eight o'clock so surely they hadn't retired for the night.
"Hermione," Ginny smiled when she opened the door. She ushered her inside and shut the door behind her. "How did it go," she asked as she led her to the kitchen where Harry was sipping a cup of tea. He looked up with a grin as well upon noting her presence.
Hermione dropped her bag and coat and slumped into a chair at the table. "Confusing. He was perfectly nice and honest, if not a bit closed off in his demeanor. Oh, and he gave me this." She reached into her bag and set the small box on the table.
Ginny glanced at Harry before reaching for it and lifting the lid. Harry whistled low through his teeth and nodded.
"Wouldn't expect anything less of Malfoy though," he chuckled.
"It's gorgeous," Ginny nodded as she handed it back.
"He told me I could wear it or not. It was my choice."
Ginny shrugged. "What's the problem then? Nice ring and it shows he's making an effort to consider your feelings. Trying to normalize the whole thing it seems."
"Exactly! But it's not normal. Nothing about any of this is normal. We're not in love. You give engagement rings to women you're in love with."
Harry coughed on a sip of tea and banged on his chest with a fist. Ginny shook her head with a roll of her eyes.
"It may not be love, Hermione, but it says to me that he wants to make a good effort for you. Certainly a far cry from the Malfoy we all knew and hated in school."
"There's that, too," she groaned and thrust her hands through her thick mane of curls to cradle her head. "I can't help but still associate him with that kind of behavior. I don't trust him any further than I can throw him. I've had no interactions with him besides tonight to feel any differently. When I see him all I can think about is when is he going to trip me next. What slur is he going to throw at me?"
Harry nodded in understanding. "I get it, Hermione. No one would argue with you that Malfoy was a right git to you for the better part of six years."
"Seven. They allowed him to finish his last year while he was on probation."
"I thought you said he left you alone though," Harry questioned.
"He did except he was always staring at me oddly. It kept me on edge constantly, afraid of what he might be planning."
Harry bit his lip and nodded. "Well, regardless, I know you haven't had any interactions to prove him otherwise. I have though. It's been years, Hermione."
"Some scars run deep, Harry," she sighed.
Ginny looked between them and shook her head. She still couldn't fathom what they'd been through that year while trying to find horcruxes. A part of her didn't want to know the magnitude of it.
"Well, when's the ceremony and where will you be living?"
"Two weeks and Malfoy's home. By the way, why did I never know he lived so close by you?"
Harry shrugged. "I guess it was never relevant. Any time I've brought him up, you've stiffened so I don't mention him to you. He avoids any kind of get together when he knows you'll be there."
Her shoulders slumped guiltily. "I didn't know that. Why?"
"He knows he makes you uncomfortable. He's been pissed the last few days since he found out about the match. He didn't want to upset you."
Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back in the stiff kitchen chair. "For someone I've had no contact with, he sure seems to think about me often."
Harry cringed. "He carries a lot of guilt, Hermione. He regrets a lot of his decisions and he knows he was a right prick."
"Why hasn't he just apologized then so I could say I forgave him?"
He eyed her pointedly. "Have you?