Hermione could not remember the last time she had felt this confused. Theories and speculations were swirling around in her head as she tried to make sense of everything that had occurred over the last two days. She would have sooner expected Malfoy to bolt through her office dressed as an oompa loompa than announce the propositions that he had.
“Hurry up!” said ferret snapped impatiently as Hermione slowed down her hurried attempts to follow him through Diagon Alley. “The sooner this is over with the sooner I can…” And he trailed off, his face falling as he realised that the sooner they did get this over and done with, there still wouldn’t be anything to look forward to. After this, Malfoy would have to collect his belongings and move in with her, starting his job on Monday.
He looked as though he were restraining himself from kicking something or screaming, and this only increased her interest. Just what would he get out of this if he so obviously did not want to follow through with it? What was so important?
“Just…” he struggled, “just get over here so we can… can get the Apparition over with.”
Reluctantly she walked over to him.
They stood in front of each other for too long, so long that any effort to hide their discomfort would have been futile. Then, with a disgusted look, he held out his arm and she took it. Hermione didn’t know why he had to look so horrified at the prospect of touching her, it’s not as though her arm was bare or anything. Truthfully, she didn’t like the idea of touching him either, but really, the expression on his face was too much of an overreaction.
With a crack, they were gone.
Hermione felt the horrible sensation of being stretched, squeezed and pulled about, not as awful as it had once felt, but the uncomfortableness as though she were being forced down a very tight tube was still there all the same.
When she next opened her eyes, they were in front of Malfoy Manor. Hermione had forgotten how dark and forbidding the place had looked, how large it was and the completely unwelcoming vibe it sent out. What she had not forgotten, however, was the unfaithful day she had been within those walls and tortured.
Bile rose up in her throat. She was abruptly very unsure about this.
Hesitantly, she followed him to the large door. He either did not remember the day she, Harry and Ron had been brought here, which she thought highly unlikely, or he did not see any reason to acknowledge it, which was the more likely option. She clenched her shaking hands and hoped to god she didn’t look as fearful as she felt.
“Move it!” he snarled from ahead.
Hastily, she jogged up to him and found her voice. “You are aware that an Unbreakable Vow is, well, unbreakable?”
“No Granger, I had absolutely no idea,” he drawled.
“No, I mean you could die if you break it,” she said, exasperated.
He gasped mockingly. “No! Are you sure?”
She frowned disapprovingly but otherwise ignored his immaturity. “Who’s going to be the Bonder, then?”
“My mother or father.” He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye to catch her reaction and was not disappointed. Her eyes had gone wider than they had been, and if she’d been reluctant before, it was nothing compared to this.
“Your…?” She blinked, once again unaware that she was falling behind. “How must they be feeling, shouldn’t they be appalled or – or –?”
“Not quite as appalled as myself by your inability to keep up,” Malfoy growled. “Come on!”
She did as she was told, the uneasiness creeping further into her stomach. They were very close to the stone steps now, where they lend up to the huge dark doors she’d been dragged through only four years previous.
“I really don’t think this is such a good idea,” she said quietly, her foot on the first step.
Malfoy stopped and scowled at her. “This needn’t be necessary if you hadn’t been so unwilling to take my word.”
“What did you expect? Working with me was ridiculous enough on your part, but living with me?” She shook her head disbelievingly. “I’d be thick to let that one slide too.”
“Then I shouldn’t be hearing any more whinging about this.” He wheeled around, not waiting for a reply.
Hermione thought about saying more, but saw no point. He wouldn’t listen anyway. She went through the door, following Malfoy all the way through the large manor, up flights of stairs and down countless hallways. She anxiously looked around, the feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb inevitable. She did not belong in this house. Yet, strangely enough, she knew she wouldn’t be harmed unlike her last visit. Four years ago things were very different in comparison to now. Now, there was no Voldemort and only a handful of families still concerned with blood purity. She knew she was not welcomed here, nor would she ever be no matter how many years passed, but Hermione was sure that it was not dangerous. There was no danger or threat lurking behind any door she passed. Not anymore.
At last, Malfoy walked through a large archway and a rather beautiful sitting room came into view. She was thankful it wasn’t the same room she’d been brought to and tortured, but she also wasn’t thrilled to see Lucius Malfoy sitting on a spacious armchair, a bored expression on his face as he read the Daily Prophet.
“Father,” Malfoy said.
He gazed up then, his face neutral until he noticed his son was not the only one in the room. Lucius’ eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together into a straight line. “Draco… Ms. Granger…”
“Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione greeted with a firm nod.
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Lucius asked, “Why is she here? How did you get her here?”
“I came… somewhat willingly,” Hermione answered, a little annoyed he wanted to speak about her as though she were not there.
“Really?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and eyeing her with fascination. It unsettled her. “And what would possess you to do that, if I may enquire?”
“Trusting you understand what’s going on, your son’s agreed to have an Unbreakable Vow done, with you as our Bonder it seems.” She saw vaguely from the corner of her eye Malfoy grimace as Lucius’ attention shifted to him.
“What?” he demanded coolly.
Malfoy shifted nervously. “Well, you see Father, when you say it the way Granger just did… of course it’s going to sound bad, but –”
“Ms. Granger, would you kindly go down the stairs and give us a moment?” Lucius said through a clenched jaw.
Hermione nodded, though she felt her consent on the matter didn’t matter much, Lucius would force her out if he had to. As she left the room, Malfoy shot her a dark look. Straight away she knew she was going to be in for it when his father was finished with him.
Hermione stood at the end of the staircase leading up to the hallway she had just vacated, and bit her lip, waiting awkwardly in a foreign house. Being left with nothing but dead silence, she was succumbed once again to her unanswered questions. What would, well not Ron at the moment, but Harry and Ginny say once she told them what had happened? Yesterday, when Malfoy had waltzed in and announced he’d work for her, she’d been so shocked, so bewildered, that when he’d left she was uncertain whether or not she had in fact heard him right.
But now that she was actually in his house, a place she had seen in her nightmares since that horrible day, it made her finally realise the seriousness of the situation. He was desperate for something; so desperate he would spend three hundred and sixty-five days of his life with her.
But what could drive someone to do something so hypocritical towards everything he’d believed in?
Hermione wrinkled up her nose at the thought of seeing him everyday. There was no question about it, she was maturer and kinder than Malfoy, but even she couldn’t pretend to be understanding or polite about staying with him. She wanted to believe she could do this, that she could put up with him for an extra year. But when Hermione looked back on all his taunts and snide words during their Hogwarts years, she faltered and felt herself doubt the ability to. There was only so much a person could take, and in her option, seven years was more than enough.
She’d been so absorbed in her own thoughts; she supposed she did not hear the distant yelling from the staircase until it grew much audible. Unsure, she put her foot on the first step, debating if she should interrupt.
Hermione had taken about two more reluctant steps up the stairs when a voce said from behind, “I would not interfere if I were you.”
Hermione turned with a start and came face to face with Narcissa Malfoy, who was leaning against the railing of the stairs, a knowing look on her face as she, too, listened to the shouting.
“It’s not quite as bad as it sometimes gets,” she said faintly. “Sometimes, they yell so much I can hear them from the other end of the house.”
That was unexpected. Malfoy used to idolise his father. As far as she knew, he never dared question him. Now they were yelling at each other? She wondered wildly if Lucius had ever physically hurt Malfoy during this frequent yelling.
“If I’m allowed to ask…” Hermione paused. “What do they normally yell about?”
“Just about everything,” she said, still looking to where the yells issued from. “Since the war… things have been difficult. Draco’s also older now, so he will often contradict Lucius.”
“I’m sorry,” Hermione murmured, wincing as Lucius’ voice boomed through the house. She could not imagine living with these two and hearing this repeatedly.
“Don’t be.”
“DO YOU FULLY REALISE THE CONSEQUENCES FOR WHAT YOU ARE ASKING ME TO DO?” Lucius roared again. “IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW THROUGH IT MAY COST YOU YOUR LIFE!”
“WHAT’S SO WRONG WITH THAT, HUH?” Malfoy shouted. “WHAT HAVE I GOT TO LIVE FOR HERE, THE LOOKS PEOPLE GIVE US ON THE STREETS, THE WAY ONLY NO ONE EVEN SPEAKS TO US ANYMORE?”
Narcissa, looking very upset, ushered Hermione around the corner, down a few more stairs and into what she identified as the kitchen. It did little to hide the noise.
“Now,” she said, plastering on a smile, “tea, coffee, pumpkin juice? What would you like?”
“Oh, um, tea would be nice. Thanks,” she said awkwardly, tuning out the voices.
“Molly!” Narcissa called, poking her head out of the kitchen. “Come make two cups of tea, would you?”
With speed that still amazed Hermione, a house elf with very, very large ears (unusually large even for an elf) trotted into the kitchen. She was wearing a purple dress, Hermione was glad to see, rather than filthy rags.
The elf conjured up a little wooden stool and jumped onto it to retrieve the kettle from the counter she could not reach, then she pointed her long fingers at it, and the kettle flew over to the sink, where water began to fill.
“So,” Narcissa said, pulling up a chair and gesturing to Hermione to take one herself, “how are you taking the news?”
“About Malfoy working and then sharing a flat with me?”
She nodded.
“Oh, well… not that particularly well, to be honest… I mean –”
“You do not trust him,” she stated over the sound of the kettle boiling.
Hermione squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, having difficultly meeting Narcissa’s eyes. “It’s – it’s not that – of course not –”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I expect anyone in your position would be uncomfortable with it.”
Hermione rubbed her eyes. “It’s my fault they’re yelling up there.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, because I didn’t really trust… Draco… he decided on something that would make this all much easier to.”
“Which was?”
She took a loud breath. “An Unbreakable Vow.”
Narcissa went silent and watched as Molly bounded over, placing a teacup in front of her. The elf trotted over to Hermione and did the same.
“Thank you,” Hermione said to her, receiving a little smile in turn. Hermione took a testing sip of the hot beverage and peered at the woman from over her cup, who still had not said anything. “Narcissa…” she began, setting the tea back down with a small clink, “I – I’m sure Mal – Draco knows what he is doing. I wasn’t sure whether to agree, but I really don’t see myself doing this any other way… I’ll make sure the vows are accurate and there are no loopholes in them whatsoever and –”
Lucius and Malfoy burst into the kitchen at that precise moment. Both flushed in the face from anger, looked at the scene before them: Narcissa Malfoy and Hermione Granger were having a cup of tea together.
“What’s –?” started Malfoy.
“What’s going on?” Lucius took over.
“Nothing.” Narcissa flashed a small smile at Hermione, and she breathed out in relief. For one horrible second, Hermione thought she had upset her. She didn’t know the woman well enough to care, but she did understand the magnitude of what she was asking. Of course, it was hardly Hermione’s fault. Malfoy was the one who needed her, for whatever reason, not the other way around. “Are you ready to preform the vow?”
“Yes,” Malfoy replied instantly, ignoring the look his father shot him.
“Lets go into the living room then, shall we?” Narcissa went out the room quickly, and maybe her son and husband were fooled by her forced pleasantness, but Hermione was not. She was scared.
***
“All right, Draco – Ms. Granger – if you could both come and stand in front of me,” Lucius instructed, suddenly very serious.
Hermione and Malfoy did as he said. Their eyes locked briefly, and Hermione saw that Malfoy did not look very unconcerned, which she thought odd because if it had been her, she would’ve been more than a little nervous.
Lucius pulled out his wand, and Hermione dropped her gaze from Malfoy and looked over at Narcissa instead, who was sitting very still with her legs crossed on the couch.
“Do you know what vows we’ll be using?” asked Lucius.
“I want no one hurt from this year. Intentionally,” Hermione added to clarify. “And I want the house elves to be safe.”
“That’s two. We need one more.” He looked at his son. “Draco?”
Malfoy thought for a moment. Hermione suspected he had already thought of what he’d like the last one to be if given the chance, because he didn’t appear to actually be thinking about it at all.
“I don’t want to see her again once this is finished,” he said finally.
Lucius looked at him. Narcissa shifted anxiously and asked, “There’s no other option? Is this really necessary?”
Hermione met her eyes, guiltily. “I’m not… I can’t do this without it. I’m sorry, really. But it’s just too hard otherwise.”
“A contract?” she suggested.
“No, and I don’t mean to be rude, but if this deal is being used for something dangerous, like taking a life or world dominance or… whatever,” she said lamely, “having a few boils on your skin isn’t going to effectively discourage –”
“You really think that little of us, don’t you?” Malfoy sneered.
“No, but – but you know what I mean. I’d prefer to do this –”
“The difficult way,” he finished.
“It was your idea!”
Lucius cleared his throat. “Be quiet, both of you. I’d like to get this over and done with. Now, the vows, you are both in accepting conditions of them?”
Hermione nodded and Malfoy grunted something that sounded like an agreement.
There was a silence that followed in which nothing happened, then Lucius said impatiently, “Well, take hold of each others arms. We haven’t got all day.”
With another unintelligent groan, Malfoy held out his arm, and like when they had Apparated, he had the same look of disgust while Hermione distastefully grasped onto his arm, trying not to wince when he took an unnecessary hard grip.
Lucius held his wand over Hermione and Malfoy’s arms, and it may have been just her imagination, but the whole room seemed much darker and colder than it had before.
When no one made any protests, much as Lucius would have liked, he pressed the tip of his wand on their hands and began.
“Will you, Draco Malfoy, treat every house elf you come across from this day of July fifteen, 2002, to July fifteen, 2003, with, no matter how much you resent it, respect to the best of your abilities?”
“I will,” he said, watching the tongue of fire thicken and begin to wind itself around their linked hands.
“Will you swear, under no exceptions, that no witch, wizard, Squib or Muggle will severely suffer any negative outcome you purposely inflict upon him or her due to the required year?”
He paused for only a second. “I will.”
Lucius began to circle the pair. “And will you, once your purpose is complete, and you have successfully engaged yourself to Ophelia Hopkins, leave Hermione Granger’s life?”
Both Hermione and Malfoy’s eyes met.
“I will.”
________________________________________
Next chapter; HE FINALLY MOVES IN.