Last Will and Testament

Chapter Nine: Tonight

Hermione breathed in deeply, a smile of accomplishment on her face as she looked around her office. Everything was in its place and nothing was out of order; she couldn't have been more pleased with how it looked. She glanced at the clock, noting that it was nearly five o'clock--the workday was almost over, and she wouldn't have to come back until Monday. In a way, she was glad. Though she'd been mostly caught up in the wonder and joy at having been hired, there was a nagging bit of...something...just beyond her reach that would not leave her alone. Something was wrong, something wasn't right--and she knew it had to do with her job.

She didn't know why she'd been hired like that. It seemed so strange to have been hired in one shot to what should have taken three separate promotions from a lower position, plus a very large amount of hard work and recommendations from her superiors. And yet, so far as she knew, not a single person had spoken of her to Bob Mason. Oh, she'd had references of course--but how had they been able to talk so well of her that he wanted to hire her as one of his personal assistants? So what had happened? Why had they hired her like that when there were probably people waiting for her position who had been waiting for a long time? She didn't want to create discord in the Ministry; there was already too much of it, thanks to the war. It might have been over, but that didn't mean the aftermath was done with as well.

A frown marred her face as she stood, deciding it wouldn't hurt to have a word with Mandy before the workday was over. She walked out of her office and across the hall, knocking briefly on the door before entering. Mandy was sitting at her desk, writing, and looked up, a smile of welcome on her face. "Hello, Hermione," she said, setting down her quill. "Something you need?"

"Er, yes." Hermione suddenly felt very awkward, barging into Mandy's office with no real idea of what she was going to say. "I was just wondering..." What to ask? She couldn't just say, 'Hey, you wouldn't happen to know if there was anything funny with Bob hiring me, would you?' No, definitely not. Thinking quickly, she opted for the subtle approach. "I was just curious," Hermione said, smiling and glancing around the office, eyeing each part of it equally. "How did Bob Mason choose you to be one of his JA's?"

"I thought I told you already, Hermione," Mandy said, her tone amused as she leaned over to riffle through a drawer. She continued, her voice muffled, "I was a correspondent for the Daily Prophet, and he met me and decided I had the credentials to be a good JA. The pay was enough of an increase from what I was earning from the Prophet that I didn't mind saying yes when he asked me. Why?"

"I was just curious," Hermione said again. "I mean, I've been waiting for a position like this for six years, and then all of a sudden I'm called to his office and I'm hired here."

"Well," Mandy said, finally finding the papers she had been looking for and reappearing behind the desk. "I've never really viewed it as something odd. He might have made it sound like a wonderful, high-up position, but really you're starting at the bottom. The JA's and department heads and secretaries really are separate jobs. Your job at that private firm of yours wasn't doing much for you. If you ask me, Bob plucked you out of there because he realized that you weren't going to get anywhere."

Hermione flushed, embarrassed that she would have warranted such rash action. "I, er, that is..."

Mandy grinned. "Don't worry about it. I know what it's like very well. Muggleborn, a woman, and brains--what a combination, right?"She chuckled, glancing at the clock. "Well, would you look at that? The day's finally over. Say, are you up to coming out with me for drinks?"

"I don't drink--" Hermione began.

"I know," Mandy waved a hand, dismissing her protest. "I meant something more along the lines of Butterbeer or Pumpkin Juice. I don't drink much, myself, as I never did before. How do you feel about going to Diagon Alley? I haven't been there in forever, and I would love to see what it's like. I also have some birthday presents to shop for," she grinned. Mandy walked around the room, gathering up her things. "Well, what do you say?"

Hermione smiled. "Sure."

***

Walking up to the Floo connection, Hermione grinned at Mandy. "That was fun," she said. "We need to do it more often."

"Oh, definitely," Mandy said, her eyes twinkling. She held up the bag. "I'm so glad; I got Dean the perfect gift. He's going to love it!"

Hermione waved, throwing the powder into the fireplace and yelling, "Malfoy Manor!" She'd had a wonderful time with Mandy, shopping--and sometimes just looking--for nearly three hours. She was getting tired, and felt she might actually get to bed at a decent hour tonight.

"Hello, Hermione," Draco said from his perch on the edge of the couch, facing the fireplace.

"Hi, Draco," she said, her brow furrowed. Draco never greeted her when she came home from work...especially when she was three hours late. "Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not," he said, a brief smile flitting across his face. "I'm sure there isn't anything wrong. After all, why would there be something wrong if Eleanor Branstone stopped by my office today to question me about a scene at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor? I'm sure there's nothing wrong when it makes the front page news tomorrow."

Hermione's face grew pale as she listened to him. As he spoke, his voice continued to get colder and colder, until now he was like the Draco she had known and hated at Hogwarts. She didn't say anything; wasn't certain if he wanted her to say anything. He was sitting on the couch's arm, staring at her with his head tilted to one side as though waiting for something. Had this not been such an extremely serious situation, and had his face not been devoid of all emotion, he might have looked devilishly handsome sitting as he was.

However, she really should not be thinking of such things at a time like this.

"Hermione?"Draco asked, a brow rising slowly in question.

She gulped. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, knew that she had done nothing wrong, but the way he kept staring at her told a different story. "Ron and I are just friends," Hermione whispered, her voice finally returning.

"It really doesn't matter what you say, you know," Draco said, finally standing and walking towards her. "Tomorrow it will be all over the front page news, and it will be the talk of the day, if not the month. 'New Malfoy Wife Cries In Arms of Weasley.' I very much doubt that they or anyone else will buy that we fell in love and eloped because we couldn't wait any longer to pledge our lives to each other." His voice was low, and he stood directly in front of her, looking down his nose and raising one arrogantly superior eyebrow. "Do you?"

"No..." she said, resisting the urge to back up. She might have thought she had gumption, but at this point it had fled, leaving her scared. "Please, Draco," she whispered, not really certain what she was begging for. She had stood up to Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, and a Weasley in a temper, but for some reason Draco's attitude was scaring her to the quick. She had never before seen him like this.

"Please what?" he hissed. "Please give me a divorce to let me out of this horrid marriage you've trapped me into? Please let me leave and run to my ickle Ronniekins? Please WHAT, Hermione?"

"Draco..." she whispered, finally giving in and taking a step back.

Something registered in his eyes, something she hadn't seen before, and he stepped back, the mask dropping. He seemed shocked, and almost...scared.

"Draco?" she asked, standing her ground but straightening, curiosity overriding her fear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and ran.

Hermione watched as he disappeared up the stairs, towards his room she presumed. What had just happened? He had been angry, definitely angry. And she had been scared, frightened of what he might do. He was, after all, his father's son. She hadn't even thought to use her wand--she hadn't even remembered she was a witch! If she had, she wouldn't have almost begged for him to stop, to leave her alone.

What on earth had just happened?

An hour later, after finding the kitchen and convincing the house elves to give her a late meal, she was still wondering. Draco was still upstairs, or at least she assumed he was, as he hadn't appeared in the dining room. She had no idea where Alicia had disappeared to, either, but hoped she would be back soon. Perhaps his aunt could shed some light on his strange behavior, and maybe help her decide what to do.

She sighed, placing her head in her arms and staring across the room at a portrait of one of the Malfoy ancestors. The man in the portrait looked amazingly like Draco, though in the picture he was older. He was sleeping; a lock of blond hair--it had been cut short, as opposed to the style Lucius Malfoy had kept his in--had fallen into his face. His hands were folded in his lap, large, gaudy rings decorating the first and ring fingers on both hands.

Hermione wondered idly if all his ancestors looked so regal, even in their sleep. She didn't think it was something she would ever get up the courage to ask, but it was something all the same.

Abruptly, she stood up and marched across the room, up the stairs, through her room, and the sitting room, and into Draco's bedroom.

As soon as she got there, she wished she hadn't. There really wasn't anything worse than walking in on someone in trousers and with no shirt--well, unless they were completely naked, she supposed. But this still was not very good. No, not very good at all. She cleared her throat, and Draco turned away from the window, raising a brow. "Yes, Hermione?" he asked softly, looking her up and down.

A light blush stained Hermione's cheeks as she realized she had no idea what she was going to say. Second time in one day, she thought wryly. "Er, I was just wondering if you were all right."

Draco turned back to the window. "I'm fine," he said, his voice cold again.

Gaining more courage, though she wasn't sure of the source, Hermione took a step forward. "Then why did you leave so abruptly earlier?"

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't move. "Does it matter?"

"I think it does," she said, taking a few more steps forward. There were less than two metres between them now. When he didn't say anything, she took another step, lessening the distance even more. She swallowed nervously. "Please, Draco," she whispered, "tell me."

The next few seconds were full only of silence, a bird's cry echoing distantly, the sound barely registering in Hermione's brain as she waited, her heart in her ears, for Draco's answer.

And after what could have been an hour, though in reality was only about two minutes, it came.

"When you grow up with my father," Draco began, not turning around, his voice rough, "you learn things quickly. What to say, what to do, what might earn you points or what might cause you to lose them with him. I learned early on to stifle my emotions when I was around him, because when I showed anything except hatred, he would get angry. He never beat me, he never laid a hand on me--but that doesn't mean I didn't fear for it.

"I promised myself, the day after I graduated from Hogwarts that I would never become him, that I would never follow the road he had tread, and that never would someone fear me as I did him. I broke that promise today," he whispered. "I was so angry that I wasn't paying any attention to you. I was just... I was so angry..."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes, tears of pity, tears full of pain and suffering for him--for Draco. It wasn't something she had ever expected, given he had been the most insufferable prat in school, and even out of it. They had never gotten along when at meetings with the Order of the Phoenix, and hadn't seen each other after that. But now, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her head in his back. One hand covered her own as the other sought to steady his body by grabbing the windowsill.

His body was shaking, though whether it was with tears or just suppressed sobs, she wasn't sure. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, allowing the tears to leak out and wet the back of Draco's...

...Very bare back. Hermione froze, her tears evaporating very quickly as she realized just what she had done. She had hugged--wait, she was still hugging--Draco Malfoy, and he had no shirt on. He seemed to be noticing the same thing, as his body had stopped shuddering, and he was now turning around very slowly in her arms. Completing the turn, one of his hands came down to pull her chin up, and he looked her in the eye. "Thank you," he said, his voice seeming sincere. She smiled tremulously, watching him carefully. His eyes, though they had a tinge of sadness in them, contained no trace of tears. Hermione sighed inside, saddened that he hadn't been able to shed a single one.

And quite suddenly, she was jerked away from her thoughts as Draco's mouth came down to cover hers.

Something happened. Something amazing and, well, earth-shattering, as he touched his lips to hers. It wasn't anything so dramatic as fireworks exploding or bombs going off, it was so much...simpler. When he touched his lips to hers, something in her chest expanded, and she opened her mouth to bring in air, air she felt she desperately needed to stop the rising emotion she did not recognize--and instead of air, though she did get some initially, his tongue entered, touching hers almost hesitantly, as though he didn't know what she would do in response.

Bringing her arms up from where they had rested at his sides, she wrapped them around his neck, pulling herself up and angling her head so as to allow him the best possible access. The hand that had tilted her head up came to rest at the back of her neck, and the other wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She hadn't felt this kind of emotion when kissing someone since...

Since...

Since when?She couldn't remember ever feeling so much when she'd kissed someone before.

Just when it was getting to the point when she couldn't bear it anymore, and felt that something had to give, she felt something warm and wet on her cheeks. She opened her eyes and pulled away from Draco, taking in large, deep breaths, attempting to get her breathing--if nothing else--under control. She was shocked to see there were tears running down his cheeks in waves, his eyes closed and his cheeks clenched. Hermione reached up, wiping his cheeks with both of her hands. "Draco?" she whispered, her hands resting on his cheeks, cupping his face as she stared at him worriedly.

His eyes opened slowly, the tears slowly coming to a halt. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No, no!" she exclaimed, shaking her head quickly. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she said firmly.

Draco's mouth quirked slightly. "Sure," he said, the disbelief evident in his voice.

Hermione smiled at him. "Come on," she said, hoping she was doing the right thing, and led him to his bed. "Up," she said, pointing to it.

Draco raised a brow, folding his arms. All signs of tears were gone on his pale face. "Why?"

"Because you need sleep," Hermione said. "If...that is going to be on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow, we're going to both have long days. I'll go to bed as well; it shouldn't be difficult, considering how busy my day was." She waited, watching him. There was the tiniest hint of mischief in his eyes, something that reminded her of the Draco she had known in school and yet at the same time was so unlike him it mystified and amazed her. Giving a frustrated sigh at her musings, not to mention he still hadn't moved, she threw up her hands and stomped back through the sitting room and into her room, slamming her door shut behind her.

She twisted her lips, biting on the inside. Why wouldn't he listen to her? It hadn't been such a horrible idea, to get some sleep. They would both need it the next day if Eleanor Branstone really had a story to go with--and Hermione didn't doubt Draco was telling the truth. There really was no other way he could have found out about her lunch with Ron, right? Gods, she hoped so. Unless he had people following her... Hermione stomped on that thought harshly. She wouldn't think such things unless she had actual proof, which she certainly did not.

She eyed the bed longingly, and decided not to take her normal bath or to even change--she was just too tired. Kicking off her shoes and plain black robes, now clad only in a skirt and blouse, she hesitated before reaching down to remove the tights from her legs. She propped a leg on the chair beside the bed, rolling the nylon down slowly, still thinking about Draco and that whole problem.

She'd married him, yes. She had explained to Ron that it had been no more than a combination between pride and circumstance. And maybe it had been, at the beginning. But she was beginning to realize that something had changed between then and now; she had a feeling the cruise had helped quite a bit. On the cruise, they hadn't been Malfoy and Granger, or even Malfoy and Malfoy-Granger--they'd just been Draco and Hermione. She hadn't really thought the cruise had affected her very much; it hadn't seemed as though it mattered much at all. However, she was beginning to realize it mattered quite a bit.

On the cruise, they'd actually had fun. Draco hadn't smiled very much, but she had. He hadn't been cold to her, even when she'd insisted he sleep on the couch and that he leave the room whenever she changed. He'd actually seemed amused by it. She felt a light blush tinge her cheeks just thinking about the way he'd looked at her.

She sighed, looking down and realizing she had finished her right leg. She'd been too caught up in her thoughts, yet again. Leaning over, she pulled it the rest of the way off and tossed it in the general direction of her closet. Just as she rolled the other over her knee, she felt a soft breeze coming from behind her. Turning her head toward it, she was shocked to see Draco looking at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

***

Draco thought he'd never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. When he'd followed Hermione through the door just a couple of minutes after she'd closed it, intending to apologize--a feat in itself, considering he'd been taught never to apologize to anyone, even if it really was his fault--he had opened the door quietly, hoping not to alarm her. He had been completely unprepared to see her barefooted and balancing precariously on the edge of a chair while rolling down her pantyhose.

He swallowed harshly, realizing very quickly just what he'd been missing when she shooed him out of the door for her to change. Her legs were amazing. She wasn't very tall, more than a head shorter than he was, but her legs were... Just amazing. Her hair had been in a bun earlier, as it always was, but bits of it were falling out, lying on her neck. Draco realized he had no idea how long her hair really was. She slept with it braided, and even braided it was down to the middle of her back. He knew he should make a noise, make any noise, as it wasn't polite to just stand there while she was so obviously getting undressed and ready for bed, but he couldn't move, let alone make a sound.

To his left, Draco realized the window was open. A cool breeze swept through, sending the hair on his arms up--and apparently alerting Hermione, as she turned around, the second hose halfway down her leg, to see him staring at her and unable to move. Her eyes widened, and she lost her balance, falling flat on her bottom. She swore loudly, smacking the chair with her palm and blushing.

Her fall broke Draco out of his trance, and he hurried over, giving her a hand to help her up. He was only glad her skirt had stayed in its place, although the other side of his brain argued differently. "Hermione?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Are you all right?"

She gave a short laugh. "Of course I'm all right," she said, "I just lost my balance while pulling off my stockings; of course I'm all right. I'm so clumsy," she muttered.

Draco smirked and placed one hand under her chin, distantly realizing he had done this not ten minutes earlier, although they had been in a different room at the time. "I don't mind," he whispered, his mouth drifting down to cover hers softly. He took his time, exploring her lips as though he had all the time in the world. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck while the other came down to her back, pulling her against him tightly. She moaned, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

"Draco," she whispered as he pulled away briefly to nuzzle her neck.

His head came up. "Hermione?" he asked, hoping she understood the question he was implying.

She opened her eyes, running her hands through the hair at the base of his neck. "Yes," she said. "But," she pulled one arm away from his neck to put a finger to his lips. "I need you to know something." She closed her eyes, a light blush staining her cheeks. "I've never done this before."

A very masculine sort of pride filled Draco's system, and he allowed an almost feral grin to overtake his face. Hermione opened her eyes to look at him, and he said, "Well, we'll just have to remedy that, won't we?"

She smiled slightly, moaning again when his lips came down on hers. Draco smiled against them, his thumb rubbing the back of her neck. This would certainly be a night to remember.

***

Much later, Hermione lay in Draco's arms, staring into the dark room. He was curled around her, one hand resting on her abdomen while the other rested just beneath her breasts. Her hands were resting on his as she revelled in the warmth of his body surrounding hers. It hadn't been nearly as painful as she had feared, and certainly expected from what she had heard from books. It had even been pleasurable, though at the same time it had fallen slightly short of her expectations.

Then again, didn't everything fall short of her expectations? Hadn't love fallen short of her expectations? She had always thought that, once she fell in love with someone, she would never fall out of it and they would live happily ever after. But it hadn't worked that way. She'd thought it would, with Jeff, but he hadn't loved her. How would she ever know if a man was lying when he told her...that?

She had expected fireworks. She had expected a mind-bending, mind- and world-altering experience. It hadn't been quite like that. It had been wonderful, of course, but not what she'd expected. Ginny had explained something beautiful, something beyond description.

She wasn't certain what she'd just experienced.

Why had she done it? She was almost certain she had allowed her feelings and her emotions to get ahead of her, as she knew she wouldn't have done it otherwise. She might have experienced a softening of feelings towards Draco, but she certainly didn't love him. His kisses went straight to her head and left her feeling very off-balance; it hadn't helped that they just had their first fight, and that he'd shown an extremely vulnerable side of himself at the same time.

At least he hadn't called out someone else's name when he came, she reflected, closing her eyes. That would have been horrible, utterly horrible. Then again, he hadn't called out anything; he'd just kissed her again, as she was about to say something herself. What it was, she didn't know--or rather, couldn't remember. A small smile was on her face as she drifted off to sleep.