A month. Thirty days trapped in a gilded cage with the boy who'd once called her a Mudblood. Hermione traced the cool glass of the penthouse window, watching the vibrant dance of car lights far below. The view was breathtaking, yet it felt like a cruel reminder of the freedom she'd lost.
Across the cavernous living room, Hermione sat engrossed in a book by a crackling fireplace. It was their first attempt at a shared evening activity since the Ministry's decree. Despite the crackling fire and the city's symphony playing outside, the silence in the room hung heavy and suffocating.
A sigh escaped her lips, a wisp of frustration swirling with a surprising undercurrent of… something else. Was it loneliness? Boredom? The unsettling feeling of being constantly on guard, even in her own home? Maybe it was all of the above.
The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn. He stood in the doorway, his usual smirk replaced by a hesitant frown. The sight of him out of his element, his posture uncertain, sent a jolt through her.
"Darling," he said, his voice softer than usual, more akin to a hesitant murmur than the Malfoy drawl she was accustomed to. "We need to talk."
She blinked, surprised by his tone. "Of course," she replied, a hint of curiosity piqued. She gestured towards one of the plush green sofa, her hand hovering in the air for a moment longer than necessary before pulling back.
He hesitated for a beat, his gaze lingering on her hand before he slowly moved towards the sofa. He sat down across from her, closer than the polite distance they'd maintained so far, but not uncomfortably so. The air crackled with a new kind of tension, one that sent shivers down her spine.
"What's on your mind?" she asked, her voice a touch softer than usual, mirroring his unexpected demeanour.
He took a deep breath, his eyes darting from the floor to the intricate pattern on the rug before finally landing on her. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a flicker of something akin to… longing? It was a look she had never seen directed towards her before, and it sent a strange flutter in her chest.
"This situation… it's difficult for both of us, isn't it?" he began, his voice a low rumble. "A month. A whole month of being married to you, darling," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke her name. "And yet, we've barely spoken, barely interacted. This isn't what I envisioned, not even close."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. He, the arrogant Draco Malfoy, was confessing that this forced marriage wasn't what he wanted either?
"Darling"? The word hung in the air, a foreign melody in the symphony of their forced cohabitation. What game was he playing now? Draco Malfoy, the boy who'd spent years delighting in taunting her, suddenly addressing her with a term of endearment? It felt like a carefully placed snare, a trap disguised as courtesy.
Yet, beneath the practised politeness, there was a shift in his demeanour. A vulnerability she hadn't glimpsed before flickered in his grey eyes – a hint of… longing? Could it be genuine? The idea was as preposterous as hippogriffs tap-dancing.
Despite the internal alarm bells, you couldn't deny the shift in your own emotions. His words, though unexpected, resonated with a truth you couldn't quite articulate. You offered a slow nod, your voice steady but laced with a touch of weariness. "I agree," you said. "But what options do we have? This wasn't our choice, and frankly, Malfoy, our relationship is barely an acquaintance."
"I know, darling," he responded, his voice softer than you ever thought possible. "But I've been thinking… Maybe we should try to make the best of this. To at least give ourselves a chance to find some common ground."
An eyebrow arched sardonically. "What exactly are you suggesting, Malfoy?" you challenged, a hint of curiosity battling your natural scepticism.
Malfoy took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for your reaction. "A honeymoon," he finally blurted out. "A real one. Away from all of this. We could go somewhere, get to know each other outside of the Ministry's decree and this gilded cage."
She stared at him, a surprised laugh escaping her lips. "A honeymoon, Malfoy? Are you feeling unwell? Perhaps you bumped your head in one of those Ministry meetings?"
"Yes," he said, his eyes meeting hers again. "Somewhere neutral. No expectations, no pressure. Just... a chance to start fresh. To see if we can find something more than just tolerance."
She considered his words, her mind racing. The idea was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. They couldn't continue living like strangers indefinitely. Maybe a change of scenery would help them break down some of the walls between them.
"Where were you thinking of going?" she asked cautiously.
His lips twitched in a small, almost hopeful smile. "I was thinking of Italy. The Amalfi Coast, perhaps. It's beautiful this time of year."
Italy?" she repeated, a flicker of surprise dancing in her eyes. "The Amalfi Coast? That's certainly… unexpected." She couldn't deny the allure of the suggestion. Sun-drenched cliffs cascading into turquoise waters, charming coastal towns – a far cry from the cold formality of their current situation.
"Unexpected, but intriguing," she conceded, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "Though I can't help but wonder, Malfoy, is this some elaborate scheme to lure me to a deserted island and leave me for the mermaids?"
He scoffed, a genuine chuckle escaping his lips. The sound was surprisingly endearing, sending a warmth through Hermione that she quickly tamped down. "Hardly, Granger," he replied, his voice regaining its usual composure. "Besides, mermaids have a rather… unfortunate reputation for handsome young men." His eyes held a fleeting glint that could almost be interpreted as… flirtatious?
"Well then," Hermione said, a slow smile playing on her lips, "perhaps the Amalfi Coast wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.
Malfoy's smile widened, a genuine spark of excitement igniting in his grey eyes. "Agreed," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Just us, darling. A chance to see if this marriage can hold a single spark of something… real."
The air crackled with a newfound energy, a tentative understanding hanging between them. The idea of a honeymoon, once utterly ridiculous, now held a strange appeal. Maybe, just maybe, this trip to the Amalfi Coast could be the start of something unexpected.
A slow blush crept up her neck as the word "honeymoon" hung in the air. Italy. The Amalfi Coast. It had always been a dream, a place she'd only seen in travelogues. A spark of excitement, a thrillingly unfamiliar sensation, danced in her chest.
"Alright," she conceded slowly, the word tasting foreign on her tongue. "We can give it a try. Let's do it. Let's go on a honeymoon."
The moment the words left her lips, a wave of doubt crashed over her. Sharing a cramped Ministry office was one thing, but a honeymoon with Draco Malfoy? It felt like attempting a Quidditch match on a Thestral – exhilaratingly dangerous and potentially disastrous.
He was, undeniably, infuriating. Their history was a battlefield of snide remarks and adolescent animosity. Yet, beneath that blustery exterior, a truth she couldn't deny simmered – Draco Malfoy was undeniably attractive. His sharp cheekbones, the way his robes seemed to mould to his broad frame, the piercing glint in his grey eyes – it was a maddening combination.
His brow furrowed, his gaze flickering across her face. "Is everything alright, darling?" he inquired, his voice laced with a hint of concern – or was it something else entirely?
Hermione forced a smile, her cheeks burning hotter. "Yes," she managed, the word barely a squeak. "Everything's… fine."
But the truth was far from fine. This unexpected honeymoon had thrown her carefully constructed world into disarray, and a part of her, a tiny, traitorous part, couldn't help but wonder what secrets the sun-drenched cliffs and turquoise waters of the Amalfi Coast might hold.
She leaned against the green sofa, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and curiosity. He had been more relaxed and attentive than she'd ever seen him. But one thing had been nagging at her all month, something she finally felt brave enough to address.
"Malfoy" she began, her voice hesitant, "why do you keep calling me 'darling'?
He, who had been gazing out at the horizon, turned to look at her, his expression thoughtful.
"Because 'love' feels… inadequate," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "It implies a depth to our connection that simply isn't there yet, Hermione."
The unexpected use of her name sent a jolt through her. Blinking rapidly, she managed a surprised, "Why not?"
He pushed himself off the couch, his movements fluid and graceful. As he approached her, his grey eyes held a captivating intensity. "Because 'love' whispers of promises and forever, things we haven't earned," he explained, his voice barely above a murmur. "Darling, well… that's a simpler term. A way to acknowledge a fondness, a care for you that exists despite our… circumstances."
She studied him, a strange mix of relief and disappointment coiling in her stomach. "So, it's just a formality then? A meaningless endearment?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Not meaningless, Granger. It's a bridge, a way to show you that I see you, that I appreciate you, even if we haven't fully crossed over yet."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. The line between their forced marriage and something more seemed to have blurred on this sun-drenched Italian coast. And as Hermione met his gaze, a single question echoed in the silence: where exactly would this bridge lead them?
A wry smile flickered across her lips. "There yet, huh? And where exactly is 'there,' Malfoy?" she challenged, a playful glint in her eyes that surprised even her.
His smile faltered slightly, a hint of heat rising to his cheeks. "I, uh," he stammered, momentarily flustered. "I suppose 'there' is a place of… understanding, perhaps. Mutual respect that blossoms into something more."
He hesitated, then continued in a quieter tone, almost a murmur. "Maybe even… affection." His gaze held hers for a beat longer than necessary, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Affection, huh?" She repeated, her voice barely a whisper. A part of her, a tiny, traitorous part, felt a flicker of something warm and unfamiliar bloom in her chest. Could this be the start of something real, or was it simply the intoxicating magic of the Italian coast? Only time would tell.
Of course it means everything, I want to call you LOVE, because that's what you are, stupid cunt.
She glanced up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I want to try too.
Malfoy nodded, reaching out to gently take her hand. "Anything for you darling."
For a moment, they sat in silence.
"Thank you, Malfoy," she said softly. "For suggesting something fun."
—----------------------------------------------------------------
Later that evening, they sat down to a candlelit dinner in the dining room of the penthouse. The food was exquisite, a testament to the culinary delights of Italy that Malfoy had arranged as a practice for their upcoming honeymoon. As they shared a bottle of wine, the conversation flowed more easily, the earlier tension gradually dissipating.
Malfoy took a sip of his wine, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "So," he began, swirling his glass, "what's one thing you've always wanted to do but never had the chance?"
She paused, thinking for a moment. "Perhaps horseback riding," she said with a smile. "Though I suppose riding a dragon during the war might count."
This bitch is a minx, riding a dragon, he couldn't wait to wank to that fantasy in the shower later. Him as the dragon obviously.
He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "I'd say riding a dragon definitely counts. But horseback riding sounds a bit more... relaxing."
She laughed softly. "Yes, I imagine it would be. It's just one of those things I've never had the opportunity to try."
Malfoy nodded thoughtfully. "We could do that, you know. There are some wonderful stables in the countryside not far from here. We could arrange a day trip."
Her eyes lit up. "That sounds lovely. I'd like that."
They fell into a comfortable silence, the soft glow of the candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. For the first time in a long while, she felt at ease, as though they were two normal people having a pleasant dinner rather than two reluctant partners bound by a decree.
He poured them both another glass of wine, his demeanour more relaxed than she had ever seen it. "What about you?" she asked, looking at him over the rim of her glass. "What's something you've always wanted to do?"
He leaned back in his chair, considering her question. "I've always been fascinated by the Northern Lights," he said after a moment. "I've read about them, seen pictures, but I've never experienced them in person."
Hermione's smile widened. "That sounds incredible. Maybe we could plan a trip to see them someday."
Draco smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made her heart flutter. "I'd like that. It's a date, then."
The evening continued with easy conversation and laughter, the barriers between them slowly beginning to crumble. As the night wore on, she couldn't help but feel a cautious optimism. Perhaps this forced marriage wasn't the end of the world after all. Maybe, just maybe, it could be the beginning of something unexpectedly beautiful.
—-------------------------------------------
Two weeks later, they arrived in Amalfi, and the Italian coast was even more magnificent than she had read in the tourist guides. The azure waters sparkled under the golden sun, and the charming pastel-coloured buildings clung to the cliffs, creating a breathtaking view.
Hermione stood on the balcony of their hotel room, taking in the stunning scenery. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined," she whispered, a sense of awe in her voice.
Malfoy came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm glad you like it," he said softly. "I thought you could use some time away from everything."
She leaned back against him, feeling a rare moment of peace. "Thank you, Malfoy. This... this is lovely."
Malfoy smiled, his breath warm against her ear. "Anything to see you smile."
As they explored the town over the next few days, Hermione found herself gradually relaxing. They wandered through the narrow streets, visited ancient cathedrals, and sampled delicious local cuisine. Despite the initial awkwardness, Malfoy made a genuine effort to ensure she enjoyed every moment.
One evening, as the sun set over the horizon, they sat at a seaside restaurant, the gentle sound of waves creating a serene backdrop.
"Darling," he said, his tone serious yet tender. "I know this isn't how either of us envisioned our lives. But I'm committed to making the best of it, with you."
She looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I appreciate that, Malfoy. And I can see you're trying. Maybe... maybe this doesn't have to be as difficult as we thought."
He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "We'll take it one day at a time. Together."
Hermione nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Together."
As the days passed, they found a rhythm, discovering new layers of each other's personalities. Malfoy's unexpected kindness and her growing trust created a fragile yet hopeful bond.
The last night, as they stood on their balcony, watching the moonlight dance on the waves, Malfoy turned to Hermione, his expression earnest.
"Darling, I know I've made mistakes, but I want to be better—for you, for us." he swallowed, gathering his thoughts. "I want to apologise. For everything I've ever done to you. For all the times I was cruel, arrogant, and hurtful. I was a different person then, and I was wrong."
Her eyes softened, but she remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"I know I can't undo the past," Malfoy continued, his voice trembling slightly. "But I want you to know that I regret every single thing I did to hurt you. You didn't deserve any of it, and I was an idiot for treating you that way."
She took a deep breath, her emotions swirling. "Malfoy, it's not easy to forget those years. You made my life miserable at times."
He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. "I know, and I'm deeply sorry. I've changed, darling. I'm not that same person anymore. Being with you, seeing the kind of person you are, has made me want to be better."
"There's something I need to apologise for, something I've carried with me for a long time."
She turned to him, her expression wary but curious. "What is it, Malfoy?"
He took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting the pain of the memory. "The night you were tortured in my family's drawing room... I just stood there and did nothing. I watched as you suffered, and I was too afraid, too weak, to do anything to stop it."
Her eyes widened, the memory of that night flashing vividly in her mind. She swallowed hard, her emotions a mix of anger, pain, and something more complex she couldn't yet name.
"I was terrified," he continued, his voice trembling. "I was afraid for my family, for myself, but that's no excuse. I should have done something, anything, to help you. And I didn't. I'm so sorry, love. I can't tell you how much I regret my cowardice that night."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she listened to the devil's heartfelt apology. The memory of Bellatrix's cruel laughter, the searing pain, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness all came rushing back. But so did the sight of Malfoy, standing there, looking as scared and lost as she felt.
"Malfoy," she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion, "that night was one of the worst of my life. I can't forget what happened, and I can't forget how you just stood there. But I also saw the fear in your eyes. I know you were scared."
Malfoy's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I was. But that doesn't make it right. You were in unimaginable pain, and I failed you. I should have been braver."
She took a deep breath, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "It's hard to forgive something like that, Malfoy. But I see how much it haunts you. And I can see that you've changed."
He nodded, a tear finally escaping down his cheek. "I have. And I promise you, darling, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that night, trying to be the man you deserve."
Hermione reached out, gently wiping the tear from his cheek. "I believe you, Malfoy. It's not easy, but we can try to move past it. Together."
Malfoy took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, darling. For giving me a chance, for even considering forgiveness. I don't deserve it, but I'll do everything I can to earn it."
As they sat in the soft glow of the moonlight, holding each other's hands, they felt a fragile but growing bond of understanding and hope. The past would always be a part of them, but they were determined to build a future where forgiveness and love could flourish.
—---------------------------------------
The next morning felt like a new chapter in their lives. The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. She lay awake, her mind racing with thoughts about the list he had given her months ago. She was determined to talk about it, especially one topic that had been on her mind: children.
She turned to look at him, who was still asleep beside her, his features relaxed and peaceful. Her heart raced, not because of the physical desire she felt for him—though that was undeniably strong—but because she wanted to discuss how they would raise a child together. It was a conversation they needed to have.
With a deep breath, she gently nudged him awake. "Malfoy, we need to talk."
He stirred, blinking his eyes open. He looked at her, a mix of curiosity and concern in his gaze. "What is it, darling?"
She sat up, pulling the covers around her. "I want to talk about the list you gave me weeks ago. Specifically, about children."
Malfoy sat up as well, fully awake now. "Children?"
He's cock never been so fully awake in his life either.
Hermione nodded. "Yes.
Malfoy's expression softened as he reached for her hand. "I understand. What are your thoughts?"
She took a deep breath, organising her thoughts. "I want to make sure we're on the same page about parenting. It's important to me that our child grows up in a loving, supportive environment. That means we need to be united in our approach, regardless of our past."
Malfoy squeezed her hand gently. "I agree. I want our child to have a better life than we did. To grow up knowing they are loved and supported, without the prejudices and expectations we faced."
She smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Exactly. I also think it's important that we teach them about equality, compassion, and the value of hard work. I don't want them to grow up with the same biases that divided us in school."
He looked at Hermione, his expression both curious and hopeful. "Them? You want to have more children with me?"
She smiled, her eyes shining with determination. "I always wanted a big family," she declared. "You are my husband, are you not?"
His heart swelled at her words. He had always envisioned a future, but hearing she speak so openly about it made it feel more real. "Yes, I am. And I want that too. A big family sounds wonderful."
Hermione's smile widened, her excitement palpable. "I want our children to have siblings to grow up with, to share their lives with. I want them to have the kind of bond I never really had growing up."
He nodded, his own excitement building. "I want that too, darling. A house filled with laughter and love, with children running around. It's a beautiful dream. "I promise you, darling, we'll have that. We'll have the family we've dreamed of, and we'll raise our children in a home filled with love and respect."
Hermione felt tears of joy prickling at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Malfoy. For everything. For trying, for being here, and for dreaming with me."
He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of shyness and longing. "On a scale of one to ten, how comfortable would you say you are with me physically?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
She felt her cheeks flush as she considered his question. "Maay… maybe four," she replied, her blush deepening.
Malfoy took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Can I kiss you finally? I've been dreaming about these swotty lips for longer than I care to admit," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
" Hermione ," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
She turned to face him, her eyes searching for him. There was a mixture of longing and hesitation in his gaze, mirroring her own emotions. " Draco ," she replied softly, the sound of his name on her lips sending a thrill through him.
Fuuuuck, he want to hear his name from her mouth every day.
They laid there for a moment, the silence thickening around them. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Draco's hand gently cupped her cheek. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in anticipation.
Without another word, he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips met hers in a soft, tender kiss, and Hermione melted into his embrace.
His lips tasted like spearmint and candy apples.
The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other, years of longing and unspoken feelings finally finding release.
They pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath. Hermione looked into Draco's eyes, seeing the same vulnerability and affection mirrored back at her.
"I've wanted to do that for so many years now, you cannot even imagine how long I've been waiting to taste your lips." Draco confessed, his voice husky with emotion.
Hermione smiled, a tear escaping her eye. "Me too," she whispered, her voice filled with relief and happiness.
Draco pulled her into another kiss, deeper this time, sealing their unspoken promises and newfound connection. Their kisses become frantic yet still filled with emotion. Snuggled together in bed, they savoured each other's taste as if it were their first breath after emerging from the depths of a long underwater dive.
They knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but in that moment, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing they were no longer alone.