Orange Peel
HALCYONARIES.
I held my hands out,
And she dropped the perfectly ripped orange peel
Into the palms of my hands.
Her breath was mild,
And her fingertips were stained nectar,
And her fiery eyes bore into the fruit.
She is the only woman I've ever loved.
—
Malfoy Manor stood tall, and unmoved. Hermione's memory of the exterior of the house had withered over time, but the sound of the gravel under her shoes was an upgrade to any awkward silence she felt she'd wrapped herself in the minute her apparition ended in front of the iron gates.
Through the gates she could see two peacocks, and fine white rose bushes and beautifully trimmed hedges. She held the gate and watched the birds, wandering around their beautiful home, by a small bank that cuts through a quarter of the Malfoy's garden. She wonders if the peacocks like their life on the grounds, if they are fed and if they are looked after. She can't imagine Draco around such animals, considering his aversion to Buckbeak all those years ago.
All those years ago...
Hermione's eyes water bitterly at the thought, and she realises that she feels jealous of the peacocks, and their luxurious and untroubled life. She felt pathetic as she pushed the gates open in her weakest attempt to be strong in that moment. Pathetic.
The walk towards the front door felt miles long, it probably was. By the time she reached it and brought her hand up to knock, the door opens on its own and Hermione is face to face with an older witch, who stares at her with no emotion, just as Draco had described. Narcissa Malfoy's face was stoic and beautiful, and as the ghost of a smile grew on Narcissa's face, Hermione grew nervous.
"I knew you'd come, Miss Granger. Draco has been telling me all about you. Come in, I've put the kettle on." Narcissa says, stepping to the side to create space for Hermione to enter her home. This just made Hermione's hands sweat and her knees shook as she stepped forwards. She found she had to train herself mentally how to walk again.
The house's interior had changed almost entirely since she was last here, the foyer had brightened up with the added white marble rather than black, and the family portraits of the Blacks had grown softer, despite Hermione having heard of them being unfavourable but there was a lack of obscenity, unlike the last time. Ease washed over Hermione at the somewhat warm welcome, if warm was the word because despite the difference in the home, it was still cold as ever.
"Draco is just through there in the sitting room, I'll join you both in a moment" Narcissa said as she strolled away, her dress dragging along the floor behind her. Hermione could only nod before she was towards what she could make out as the sitting room, judging by the luminous tug of hair she saw through a crack in the door, and the timely turn of a newspaper page. Hermione pushed open the door and the sight of Draco sitting comfortably on his sofa pointed towards a fireplace which set a dim glow around the room, the warmth managed to make her cheeks pink.
"Hermione?" Draco looked round at her with a slightly shocked expression, she understood why. Hermione suddenly felt foolish for turning up to his home unannounced like a child going to their parents bedroom in the middle of the night. She footered nervously with the frayed wool of her jumper and put a smile on her face. "Draco. Hello." Was all she managed to say before Narcissa came into the room carrying a tray which held a teapot, three small cups and a pot of sugar and milk.
The three sat down, making small conversation about Hermione's job, Narcissa's gardens and Draco's court hearing. Hermione hadn't known he was to be put on trial. She notes to ask him later.
The day drags on slowly, Hermione finds herself enjoying the presence of the Malfoy matriarch, she's witty and quick and kinder than she had thought.
After a while, Narcissa excuses herself to her chambers, leaving Hermione sat with Draco in a warm silence. The fire has been turned up now, Hermione is sure her cheeks are the colour of ripe beetroots because of the heat. She clasps her hand over her knee and looks at the man sitting infront of him, only to find he's already looking at her. "Go on, ask." He taunts, studying her. She felt like squirming, his stare was far too intense.
"You have a trial soon? Why didn't you say anything, Draco? I could help you out of this more than I could help your father be sentenced." She exasperates, moving her arms around as she speaks. Hermione finds it hard to believe that he kept this from her, not that she feels entitled to know everything about him but she knew every detail of his father's trial which was approaching quickly.
"I didn't think it was important. I think I deserve it." Draco states, and leaves her no time to interrupt. "I was awful. I didn't change overnight, even the fear I felt as I got older and after having been given the mark, I felt a sense of achievement, pride if you will. I was finally doing something that made Lucius happy, finally making him proud. I had his approval and I was determined to keep it. It wasn't about hurting people, it was about protecting my family, maintaining a life where my own father was finally able to look me in the eye and call me his son. That's what I wanted. Now, I regret it, of course I do, but regret doesn't change the past, Hermione."
Hermione finds herself gobsmacked, she doesn't know what to do, say and she can't look Draco in the eye. "Can I help you?" She asks plainly, hoping he'll agree.
"No. I don't want help for me. I want you to save my mother, not me. You saw her today, she's exhausted and even you must be able to tell that. She jokes and laughs and smiles but that's all a facade, she is just as terrified of that man as I was, maybe even still am." Draco clears his throat, he blinks and his stare is straight back on Hermione. "Help her. Be there for me. I couldn't live on knowing she would have to endure him for decades to come. So please, don't worry about me." Draco reaches out and takes Hermione's hand, "She means more to me than I'll ever be able to stomach admitting. She taught me what life could be, not what it is. I need Lucius gone, I don't care what happens to me."
Hermione is crying now, a tear falls on top of Draco's hand. She nods and sniffs and smiles softly at him. The witch is overcome with emotion and she leans forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "I promise, I'll help her. I will." Is all she manages as he snakes his arm around her back, pulling her closer.
Draco lifts Hermione's chin and smiles at her. "Thank you, Hermione." The distance between them is thin, Hermione wipes her eyes and gives him one more nod of the head.
"Don't get yourself locked up, now. You won't get the satisfaction of seeing your father's face once they give him his sentence." The two laugh simultaneously, "I'll keep it in mind." Is all he says before he wipes his thumb across her cheek.
The room goes quiet, the fire dwindles and Draco leans closer to the witch in front of him, "Thank you." He whispers.
In seconds, Draco kisses Hermione delicately on her mouth and she melts into him, putting all her energy into keeping upright.
They break apart and smile at each other, Hermione is sure this isn't the Draco she's ever known, but now, as their kiss wanders around the air and dances with the fire, she is content with the world falling around her if she can just keep Draco out of Azkaban.
YOU ARE READING
silent devotion ; dramione
Fanfiction"Hermione" His voice cut through her silence and she shivered, the sound was made of pure gold. "I missed you" The witch whispered, and she brought her hands to either side of his neck, and peace shattered her bones. She couldn't quite believe that...
