Lust, War, and... Love?

Chapter 20: Parents and Holidays

    Hermione was running late for breakfast.

It was a dreary day outside: wind, rain and sleet. The weather matched her moods. Even the prospect of a free Sunday ahead did nothing to lift Hermione's spirits.

After her bitter shock in the Prefects' bathroom, Hermione insisted on early morning quickies to prevent Malfoy from prolonging their time together, which he wasn't happy with, at all. Their last Saturday date was a sullen affair. Instead of staying with Draco for the rest of the night, Hermione left for her dorm immediately after satisfying her need.

Hermione hurried past the tables, her eyes avoiding the Slytherin table. She wasn't able to dodge the sight of Ron's arm wrapped around Lavender's shoulders. Hermione nodded to Harry, who was sitting next to Ron, but her friend failed to notice her. Instead, Harry's stare was on Ginny, who was chatting with Dean Thomas. Hermione's spirits sank even lower. No one had any interest in her whatsoever, except the cursed Malfoy, who apparently considered her nothing more than an erotic plaything.

Worst of all, the Christmas break was looming large, and they had to figure out together how to continue their sex life without interruption. Unlike school, their potion-induced lust had no holidays.

Hermione found a vacant seat on the farthest end of the Gryffindor table, next to two seventh year girls, Leanne and Adelaide. She couldn't see Harry and Ron from there, which was great. But she ended up facing the Slytherin table, and was well in the line of Malfoy's sight. Hermione glanced at him as she tucked into her porridge. Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, he was talking to Pansy and Daphne across the table. Blaise towered nearby and apparently listened to Malfoy's rant too. Holding his Slytherin court, as usual.

Hermione chewed on an apple tart and mused gloomily on her situation. It was so stupid of her to expect Malfoy to treat her as his equal. Of course, she knew from history books that arranged marriages and adultery were a norm of Muggle aristocratic life all over Europe (Louis XIV, the Sun King, and his royal court in 17th -18th century France, for example). It only was logical that the Pureblood wizarding elite followed suit. Nevertheless, it was one thing to read about it in books, and a totally different matter to be Bludgered with it, in reality.

Hermione's heart and mind still reeled from her hurt and humiliation. To restore her self-esteem, she needed to distance herself from the damned Death Eater and focus on her spying mission, but she couldn't do it. Hermione suddenly remembered that Lavender Brown was a Pureblood too, although of a more modest stock. This fact didn't help either.

The best thing Hermione could do was bury herself in her studies. Almost all of her homework for the next week was done, except for two bonus assignments for Herbology and Ancient Runes. The Herbology essay would require a good deal of book research, which guaranteed to keep her busy for most of the day. At least, she was the top one in her classes, and that was something to be proud of.

The meal came to an end, and owls with the morning post flew into the Great Hall. Three of them descended in front of Hermione, bringing a letter from her Mum, another one from Dumbledore and a square package, which puzzled her slightly. She hid Dumbledore's letter in her pocket to read later, in private, and opened the other envelope. Her eyes scanned her mother's neat handwriting:

. . . We resolved not to travel this holiday but to have Christmas at home, as a family. It's great that you'll be coming home for the break. We all have been missing our time together, and this Christmas would be a wonderful chance to make up for it and strengthen our family connection . . .

The letter gave Hermione a bad premonition. Mum employed the same vocabulary before that ill-fated ski trip in the fifth year, when Hermione quit early and joined Harry and Ron at Sirius' place for Christmas. She lied to her friends stating she wasn't fond of skiing, because it was too difficult for her to explain her family problems to them.

The following summer was no better. She stayed most of the time with the Weasleys. Unbeknownst to them, their hospitality was truly her salvation. Then an apologetic letter from Mum and Dad arrived the first week of her school year, and Hermione was relieved that everything seemed to be back to normal at home. Still, she had a persistent worry that the things could go downhill any time.

Hermione put her mother's letter aside and tore off the package wrappings. A dark red velvet box of chocolates emerged, the gold and silver arabesques on it shining brightly in the candlelight. Veuve Gauthier, Chocolatiere Supreme. The arabesques seemed to be alive, their wavy contours fluid and entwined, and small pictures of gleaming chocolate bonbons weaved through them.

A small folded note of crimson red parchment was attached to the side of the box. Hermione pried it open with her fingernail but quickly flattened it back, as she realised that everyone around her was staring at the box. Nevertheless, she glimpsed the calligraphic inscription in gold lettering inside. With compliments, Draco Malfoy.

"Whoa, Veuve Gauthier . . ." gasped Leanne and drew closer to see the box better.

"From whom?" Adelaide leaned over. "I saw exactly the same box in that fancy shop last summer. Remember the place, Leanne?"

"Oh yes. This one must cost no less than two hundred Galleons!" exclaimed Leanne. At these words, two third year girls next to her jumped to their feet and craned their necks.

"It's from my parents," Hermione said bluntly, and hurriedly stuffed the box into her school bag.

Did Malfoy really believe she could be bought like a courtesan?

"An early Christmas gift." Her explanation was lame, she knew. Her whole life was lame.

Hermione walked out of the Great Hall. She instantly ran into Theo and Padma arguing in the front of the entrance.

"Can't you believe me, after all?" Theo was clearly exasperated. "If Granger snogged someone, it wasn't me!"

"Of course, doing it right in front of the Fat Lady!" Padma turned away and marched down the hallway angrily. "Don't try to hoodwink me!"

Nott ran after her and blocked her path. "Listen to me, Padma!"

Padma halted and turned abruptly again. Her eyes fell on Hermione, and Padma stuck her chin up, indignantly. Theo gave Hermione a pleading look.

"Padma, it wasn't Nott who snogged me on that night!" Hermione shouted, and came up to the couple. "Someone posed as Theo to lure me out of the Gryffindor Tower. He caught me by surprise too!"

"So you came out because you thought Theo asked you for a date?" Padma said bitterly.

"No, I was told that Theo wanted to discuss the night patrols. I thought he wanted to trade the times. I'm so sorry about the confusion, Padma."

"Who was it then?" A glimmer of curiosity appeared in Padma's anthracite-black eyes. Nott drew closer, his bony face alert.

"I won't tell you."

"I guess it wasn't Weasley or Potter, right?" Padma exchanged glances with the Slytherin Prefect. "Tell me – I promise I'll keep it a secret!"

"I'm not telling anyone," Hermione stepped back and saw Malfoy lolling near a window in the company of Crabbe and Goyle. Loudly, she said, "In fact, I'm very angry with him now. He stooped so low that he screwed you, Nott!"

"Someone from Slytherin?" Nott asked quickly and looked around. His jaws hardened.

"A Slytherin?" Padma was eager to find it out. Hermione realised that Malfoy's eyes were steadily fixed on the three of them.

"I won't tell you. Leave me alone, please. Here." Hermione pulled the package of chocolates out of her bag, tore off the folded red note and thrust the ornate box into Padma's hands. "I'm so sorry. I really want you and Nott to make up."

"But . . . but . . . is it a real Veuve Gauthier?" Padma gasped, and Theo looked over her shoulder at the box. "It's so expensive!"

"To make up for the trouble. Enjoy!" Hermione turned on her heels and walked past a murderous-looking Malfoy.

Sheer madness filled Draco's insides. His inability to curb her rejection infuriated him. The way Hermione reacted to his gift baffled him completely. Any other girl, including Pansy, would squeal with delight over it. In fact, he had never given his fiancée anything remotely close in value.

The morose and distant Granger became Draco's nemesis. This last week had been a nightmare. Their early morning dates left him sleep-deprived because he stayed in the Room of Requirement until late, trying to speed up the repair of The Vanishing Cabinets. Unrelenting Aunt Bella demanded that he send her the progress reports daily. Mum was slipping into a low-key hysteria in her letters, as she reported on Father's state and the Dark Lord's latest doings.

The warm and cordial Hermione was his solace for a brief while before their rift in the Prefects' bathroom, and he missed it terribly. This morning Draco walked in a daze, doing his best to act normal around his fellow Slytherins, while entertaining Pansy and her girlfriends at breakfast. He was barely able to hold himself together. He had to hammer some sense into Granger before he lost his last marbles. The holidays were approaching fast, but he couldn't bring himself to think about it. Of all the Christmases in his life, this one was going to be the most dreaded.

Abruptly, Draco commanded Crabbe and Goyle to go downstairs and wait for him in the Slytherin Common Room. Theo and Padma had already departed with the Veuve Gauthier bonbons. Draco darted down the side corridor after Hermione. He almost caught up with her, when she halted and turned around.

"Malfoy, I don't need your bribes, understand?" She glared at him, clutching her school bag. "What you did to Nott was dishonest. Leave me alone, today!"

Before Draco had time to say anything, Hermione dove into a girls' loo and left him alone in a deserted corridor.

In the safety of the loo, Hermione closed the stall door and leaned against it. She was in no mood to interact with Malfoy. He'd probably wait for her awhile, then give up and slink off to his House to take his anger out on an unlucky first year. He could be a vile beast when angry.

Hermione extracted Dumbledore's letter from her pocket and unfolded it.

Dear Hermione,