Last Will and Testament

Chapter Eleven: When All Bets Are Off

"Excuse me!" Draco asked a nearby waitress. "Where can I find Ginny Weasley?"

"Oh, she's probably off by now," the short, young blonde said, nodding back to the kitchen. "She cooks from six in the morning till two in the afternoon. She's the best cook we've had in a while; we've actually expanded the menu, thanks to her. Oh!" The girl grinned, looking back at him. "Looks like you were lucky; she's right over there." She nodded towards the back of the pub.

"Thanks," Draco said, walking back to the youngest member of the Weasley family. "I need to talk to you," he said, stopping right in front of her.

Ginny looked up at him, raising a brow. "Really."

"Yes," he said. "Would you like to have a bite to eat?"

Ginny made a face. "No thanks; I don't think I could stomach it at this point. I've been around food since five." She started walking towards the door.

Draco hurried to catch up with her. "I thought you didn't get on till six."

"What, interviewing the staff about me now?" She scowled at him. "Haven't changed a bit, Malfoy, have you?"

"Listen, Ginny."

"Oooh, calling me by my first name now. Good choice, but I really don't think that's going to work," she spat, increasing her speed.

Draco lengthened his stride, easily keeping up with her. "Ginny, I need to talk with you about Hermione."

"Malfoy," Ginny said harshly, stopping and turning to face him, "I'm not talking to you about Hermione, get it? I don't know what you did, but she's changed. I don't know why she married you, but I don't think it was her choice, because there is no way in hell she would marry someone who terrorized her and her best friends for seven years! One day she's madly in love with a guy she's been dating for two years, and the next she runs off and gets married to YOU, of all people! It's nice to see Hermione do something impulsive for once, but not when it concerns a marriage to Draco Malfoy."

"Ginny," Draco tried to interject again.

"No! I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen! I don't like you. In fact, I think it would be correct to say that I hate you. You've done something to Hermione, and I don't like it. If it's a spell or an enchantment, I will get you. If I have to pull some strings or give a few bribes, I will get you. Jeff was the best thing to happen to Hermione in a long time, and I don't like the fact that you screwed it up by getting her to marry you," Ginny paused, taking in a deep breath.

"Ginny, I didn't do anything to her," Draco said angrily. "She chose to marry me of her own free will. And maybe you're overestimating just how good of a thing Jeff was for Hermione. She told me about Jeff last week; she told me everything about Jeff. I don't care whether you think I haven't changed, but I want you to know that I care about what happens to Hermione. It hurt me to see her crying over some bastard who didn't give a damn about her.

"I didn't put any spells or enchantments on Hermione. If she's changed, it's because we've both changed. Getting married does that to people." Draco took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you because I wanted to ask you to come to dinner at Malfoy Manor tonight. You're Hermione's best friend, and I think she needs one right now." Plus it was one of those nice things men supposedly did for their wives, but that was beside the point.

Ginny's expression of anger had changed during his succinct speech; it was now one of confusion. "I'll accept the invitation, but my opinion of you has yet to change significantly. Maybe it will change, but I'll be the judge of that myself." Ginny nodded at him and walked away, towards Hogwarts.

"Where are you going?" Draco called after her.

"To see Neville Longbottom," Ginny called back, "Not that it's any of your business, of course."

"Of course not," Draco said under his breath. He stared after Ginny for a few minutes, his hands in his pockets. It was amazing how protective she was of Hermione... Almost like a mother hen looking after her young. Ginny was a Weasley, after all. She had as large a temper as her brother's--it was just harder to light it--and no doubt a heart as big as her mother's. Not that he'd ever met Mrs. Weasley formally, but he'd heard of her, and knew that the Weasleys had practically adopted Potter into their already-large family.

He wasn't entirely certain what had provoked him to invite her. Maybe it was the way their relationship had progressed. He wanted to make sure she knew not only what she was doing, but that she wanted to do it. Despite his lack of them, Draco had a feeling that was what real friends did--and he had no doubt the friendship between Hermione and Ginny was a true one. Well, plus the fact that there was no way he was inviting Weasley, and Potter was on his honeymoon... With Draco's former best friend.

Ah, Pansy. There had been a time when he had thought he would fall in love with her and marry her eventually. Had hoped it, even, as Draco had known that Lucius fully endorsed a marriage between them. He was actually surprised that Lucius hadn't demanded he marry Pansy, instead. But Lucius had no doubt noticed how close Draco and Pansy had gotten...

"Dear Merlin," Draco whispered. That was it. That was the catch. Draco had never needed to marry Hermione. No where in the will had it said that Pansy was not free to do what she pleased with the money--meaning that she could very well have given it back to him. Or... that Pansy and Draco could have married. Obviously not anymore, now that Pansy was married to Harry, but when Lucius had drawn up the will, it had been extremely possible.

Lucius had never expected Draco to marry Hermione. He had no doubt fully expected that Draco would have passed over Hermione and gone directly to Pansy. Knowing the workings of his father's mind as intricately as he did, Draco also had a feeling that Lucius had wanted Hermione to feel stupid and shameful and poor, giving her the opportunity of more money than could be made in one lifetime before taking it all away in the blink of an eye...

Or the signing of a marriage contract. At least in Lucius' mind.

That meant that they could get divorced. They would both be free to live their lives as they pleased, where they pleased, when they pleased... and with whom they pleased. If Hermione had really had a choice--and despite what he had told Ginny, he knew it hadn't really been one--she never would have married him. She thought she had no choice. She was the owner of a firm that was barely paying for itself, her roommate was moving out, and her boyfriend had cheated on her. He was no doubt looking like quite a good catch--but for all the wrong reasons.

It was amazing. Just four weeks earlier, he would have jumped at the chance to end the marriage--or not even start it at all. But now, he was debating whether to even tell Hermione. Since she had been hired at the Ministry, she wouldn't have money problems, and he would probably give her a nice fee for the divorce, as well.

But he didn't want to. Things were happening that he wasn't certain he wanted to happen, but didn't want them to stop happening either. The past three weeks had been amazing. They had been Heaven. Simply wonderful, simply... simple.

She trusted him. She had trusted him enough to give her something she hadn't given to anyone else, and it touched him. Right there, in the heart he thought would never feel real love for a woman.

Real love.

It was funny, in a strange way. Who would ever have thought that Draco Lucius Malfoy would fall in love with Hermione Granger?

Because he knew that was what had happened. Why else would he be having doubts about divorcing her?

He had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

To say the least, it was a shocking revelation. He couldn't believe it. He was even more shocked than when he had realized that he'd never had to marry her in the first place.

But the signs were all there. The signs that he'd read about in books. His heart would quicken when he saw her, he loved watching her do anything, and he felt it when she felt things.

Stiffly, Draco forced his legs to move back to the Three Broomsticks. As though in a daze, he walked through the main room and back to the Floo room, nodding at the guard before taking a handful of the powder and yelling "Malfoy Manor!" He stepped out of the fireplace, shooed off a house elf who asked him if he wanted anything, and walked straight towards his room--his real room, the one he'd lived in for nearly twenty years before his father had died during his incarceration in Azkaban.

"Draco?" Alicia asked, stepping in his path.

Jerking out of his faze, he moved his eyes to her face. "Yes?" he asked calmly.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly. "You look like you could use a dunk in some ice-cold water or something. Or maybe a nice warm bath."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just like you to contradict yourself."

"One of my amazing personality traits," Alicia grinned cheekily at him. "So, do you need something?"

Draco opened his mouth to say no, but paused. Alicia was like a mother to him, and had certainly taken over the job admirably after Narcissa had died. "Can I talk to you?" Draco asked slowly.

Alicia's playful demeanor became more serious and she slung an arm around her nephew. "Of course," she said, starting to walk down the hall, towards the stairway. "What is it?"

"What happens if... If you're in love with someone... But... Merlin, I don't know how to explain this," Draco said, frustrated.

Alicia quirked a brow. "From the beginning would be nice. I'm going to assume this is Hermione we're talking about, right?"

"Of course," Draco grumbled.

She smiled. "That's good. If it hadn't been, I would have been forced to rid your father of his only heir. Hermione's a good girl. So, what's on your mind, Draco?"

"My father set up his will so that either I had to marry Hermione, or Pansy would get all the money, but I would be stuck with all the property. And I couldn't sell the property unless I was married to Hermione. So we got married. We hated each other in Hogwarts; I'm sure you remember me telling you about her and Potter and Weasley." Alicia nodded. She well remembered his temper tantrums. "So we get married, her for reasons that I won't mention, me because of the will, and we were doing fine--but the past three weeks have been..." Draco trailed off.

"You've started to care," Alicia whispered, a faraway look in her eyes.

"How do you know?" Draco asked curiously.

"It happened to me," Alicia said quietly. "Not the same thing of course, but I know how it works. You know what they're feeling, and you care. It's hard to realize that you have a heart, especially when you thought it died a long time ago."

"Why would you ever have thought yours was dead?" Draco asked. He honestly had no idea.

"I never told you; you never asked, and I never thought it was pertinent to tell you." Alicia lifted her left arm off her nephew and pulled up the sleeve to her robe, pointing at a blank forearm. "Almost twenty-five years ago, I received the Dark Mark. Twenty-four years ago I rejected it and became a spy, right around the same time Severus did."

"But-but, I never knew. You must have been a spy after he came back; why didn't I know? I was in the Order of the Phoenix as well--you must have been, if you were a spy--"

Alicia interrupted him. "I was too close to Lucius and Voldemort. Dumbledore didn't want to risk exposing me; he knew there was a leak, somewhere. He just didn't know who. This time through, it was pretty much the same thing... I was a lot higher placed than Severus."

"But Potter didn't mention you! He did that interview with The Quibbler in fifth year; you didn't Apparate when Voldemort called you!"

"Yes, I did. Harry didn't have the names of all of them; there were more than the ones he mentioned," Alicia said, her face hardened. "I was a spy for almost twenty-two years, Draco. After serving for so long for Voldemort, I thought my heart was gone. It was never so painful when I realized it was still there."

"But you always seemed to..." Draco trailed off, frowning.

"Love you? Of course. But that's familial love. I think I could love you even without a heart; would be expected to, even. Romantic love is much different." Alicia smiled suddenly. "But it was advice you wanted, wasn't it? Well, then. I think you should tell her how you feel."

"Are you insane?" Draco demanded of his aunt. "She would be shocked! And then she would probably laugh at me, think it a joke of some sort."

"Draco," Alicia said gently, "she trusted you enough to tell you whatever it is about Jeff that you're not telling me. Of course, I would guess that he cheated on her, but whatever; I have a thing against Jeffs. I had a bad experience in school. Anyway, she trusted you. I think that counts. She wouldn't laugh in your face if you told her."

Draco sighed, obviously frustrated. "You are no help whatsoever."

"What?" Alicia grinned. "It worked for me," she said saucily, turning around and walking back towards the guest rooms.

"But you don't have a boyfriend!" Draco yelled after her retreating back.

"What do you know?" she yelled back at him, not bothering to turn her head.

Draco shook his head, frowning. She was annoying, but he had to admit her advice had been good. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to follow it. It seemed too simple. Tell her how he felt. Tell her how he felt.

Wait. How? How was he supposed to do that? Flowers? Chocolate? What did you do when you told a woman you loved her? And how was he supposed to do that? "Wait!" he called desperately after Alicia.

She turned around at the end of the hall, grinning from ear to ear as her nephew walked quickly up to her. He no doubt wanted to run. "Yes?" she asked, a smirk on her face.

"How do I tell her? Flowers? Chocolate? Is there something I'm supposed to say? I don't know how to do this!" Draco said.

"Just tell her. After dinner, I suppose, or before, if you'd rather miss..." Alicia trailed off, her smirk growing.

Draco swore, hitting the palm of his hand with a fist. "I asked Hermione's best friend to come to dinner tonight. It would be too rude to call it off."

Alicia patted Draco's shoulder sympathetically. "It's all right Draco. You'll live, I know you will." She grinned as he scowled at her. "I love you, too. Now go do whatever it is you do with your time and I'll see you at dinner. I have a book on Potions to read up on." She gave him one last grin before disappearing into her room.

Draco stared at her door for a few minutes before scowling again and turning away. He walked down the stairs, putting his hands in his pockets and staring at the ceiling in the entrance hall. The painting was beautiful, but all he saw was Hermione's face in varying degrees of emotion. Hatred, passion, love, acceptance, dislike, hunger... He wanted to tell her, he wanted to...

But he had to tell her about the loophole. He had to tell her about it before he could tell her he loved her, because if he told her he loved her, her Gryffindor nature would probably kick in and she wouldn't allow herself to divorce him because... because it would make him upset or something stupid of the sort. So he would tell her about the loophole after dinner. Yes, that would be good.

A knock sounded on the door. Instead of waiting for the house elf to come answer it, Draco walked over and opened the door himself.

On the step was a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Next to her was a man, also wearing casual clothing, with black hair and green eyes--and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

"Draco," the woman nodded to him, a small, polite smile on her lips.

"Pansy," Draco said, nodding to her. "Potter, now, isn't it? Congratulations, Potter." At Pansy's quirk of a brow, Draco nodded to Harry. "I mean him."

"Wonderful," Pansy smirked. "We're just going to be a childish little brat, now aren't we?"

Draco took a deep breath, praying to Merlin for patience not to kill his former best friend and her husband. He could not believe that Pansy Parkinson--now Potter--and Harry Potter were standing on his doorstep.

That was it. The world had come to an end.

He had fallen in love with Hermione, invited her best friend to dinner, had HIS best friend and her husband show up on his doorstep...

Draco cursed.

And there was a strange man walking up his driveway, brown hair flopping in the breeze. If Merlin or some other god or goddess were playing with him, he knew it would be Hermione's former boyfriend.

The man stopped right in-between Harry and Pansy, glancing at the latter appreciatively. Harry glared at the man. "That's my wife you're looking up; back off."

"Really, Harry, I can defend myself," Pansy said, looking amused.

"Well so long as I'm your husband, I can get angry on your behalf."

"Of course you can," Pansy grinned. "And it doesn't hurt that you look adorable doing it."

"Excuse me?" the strange man asked. "I'm looking for Draco Malfoy. He lives here, right?"

"That would be me," Draco said, stepping forward.

"Wonderful," the man said. He then drew back his fist and hit Draco right in the chin.