Chapter Text
August, 1986
“I don’t want to go mummy.” Jean Granger unstrapped her daughter from her car seat. “Well darling, Mrs. Malfoy was so kind as to invite us.”
She crouched in front of her daughter who was habitually smoothing her dress now that she was out of the car. “And, it is very important that we are on our best behavior. Okay?” Hermione pouted, hands gripped in the gauzy fabric of her blush dress. Jean straightened the matching ribbon that was holding back half of her daughter’s riotous curls.
“I don’t want to play with Draco. He is annoying and he pulls on my ribbons.” Walter Granger, having been standing a few feet away snickered, “princess, if Draco messes with you, give him hell.”
“Walter!” Jean hissed, turning to glare at her husband who, despite all his bravado, shrunk back slightly. “That is not funny.” Standing up, she grabbed her daughter's hand, “come on love, Harry is already inside. You can play with him.”
At the mention of her best friend, Hermione let go of her mothers hand and ran towards the front doors. Walter linked his wife’s arm with his. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Jean looked up at the imposing manor owned by the Malfoys. A place she had only been to three times prior and all within the last year. “No. The only thing I am sure of is that I want Hermione to have a happy life. I do not want to go back to the fighting and killings in the street. I don’t want Hermione, or any of the other children to have to worry. Lily and Narcissa agree. I suspect that they have wrangled promises from James and Lucius to be on their best behavior.”
She turned to look up at her husband. “Do I need to get a similar promise from you?” Walter smiled and continued their walk to the double doors, “no darling.”
Hermione ran under the hanging leaves of a willow tree, far enough away from the adults milling around but close enough not to get in trouble. And as usual, Harry and Ron followed right behind her. “What are you doing Mi?” The young girl turned towards her, in everything but blood, brother, “looking for fairies!”
Harry, too old to believe in fairies of course, rolled his eyes, after giving a few surreptitious looks to the hanging leaves. “Are we supposed to be here?” Ron asked, pulling a leaf that had gotten stuck in Harry’s wild hair. “No. You're not.”
The three children turned to the new voice only to see Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott enter, what Hermione considered, their secret spot. The blonde boy pulled on one of Hermione’s curls which just irritated her more, causing a red flush to spread over her cheeks. “Go away Malfoy.” Hermione tried to make the surname sound as mean as possible, planting her fists on her hips. “You can't talk to me like that! I am going to tell my father!”
“Tell him then! I will just tell my daddy that you pulled my hair.” Draco was a boy who had not been told “no” very much in his short life. Hardly ever. He had never been talked to the way Hermione Granger talked to him either. So, just because he could, he reached behind her and pulled the satin, blush ribbon out of her hair and held it tauntingly in front of her face.
Hermione, remembering her fathers words and now fuming because once again, Draco Malfoy had taken something of hers, pulled her balled up fist back and hit him as hard as she could in the nose. Blood spurted and the young boy cried out as he fell into his friend. That was how Arthur and Bill Weasley found the children, squabbling under a tree and two of them crying. One with a broken hand, the other with a bloody nose and a blush ribbon clenched in his fist.
August, 2004
Cursing under her breath, Hermione walked a little faster down the street. She knew better than to be out this late, truly she did. Yet here she was, winding through the empty alleyways of London. Harry would absolutely kill her for being out alone.
She had just crossed under a streetlight when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Someone was following her. She let them get closer, listening as their footsteps got louder and louder. When they were right behind her she pulled her gun from her bag and spun, only to come face to face with the devil himself. Draco Malfoy walked right up to her, letting his broad chest press against the barrel of her pistol.
“We both know you're not going to shoot me, little lion.” She scowled, damn him for being right. She held her gun steady, refusing to show any fear. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He pressed further into the gun, putting pressure on her arm. “What are you doing out this late? And all alone? Didn’t Potter warn you about the monsters that lurk in the dark.”
“I lost track of time Malfoy, now if you will excuse me.” He placed a large hand over hers, pushing the gun down. “Well then love, let’s go.” She clicked the safety back on and slid the gun back into her bag. “I am not going anywhere with you Draco.” He stepped closer to her and she hated that she had to crane her neck to look up at him, at over 6 feet tall he was more than a foot taller than her.
“It’s Draco now is it?” His silver eyes were dark and dangerous, but that smirk, it was the kind of look to get girls to drop their panties in two seconds flat. Rolling her eyes Hermione turned on her heel and continued back to the house she shared with Harry and Ginny. A warm hand wrapped around her elbow and pulled her back. “We aren’t walking.”
“We aren’t doing anything.”
“My car is a block away. You can either walk over there or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you.” Walking in step with Malfoy, Hermione could on some level relax, no one else would dare mess with her when she had the biggest monster in the city walking beside her.
Draco opened the passenger side door of his sleek black Aston Martin, Hermione rolled her eyes and slid in the seat, placing her bag on the floor by her feet. When the door didn't shut she turned to see Draco crouched in front of her, head tilted to the side.
“What were you doing out this late?” Sneering she turned back to face the front, “it’s none of your goddamn business what I was doing Malfoy.”
A large, cool hand gripped her face pulling her head so that she was once again looking into storm cloud eyes. She ignored the rush of heat that went through her core as his hand slid down to grip her neck. “I won’t hurt you Hermione, but I can still very easily make your life miserable. After all, I still haven't cashed in all my chips.” That dark part inside of her, the part that craved the adrenaline rush from walking in the dark at night, from provoking him, made her want to act out. It made her want to see just how far she could push him despite the deal that their families had made long ago.
But she knew that he would always follow through with a threat. She had seen it many times.
“The library. I was volunteering at the library and lost track of time.” He smiled, like he was well and truly amused with her, then he rubbed his thumb down her neck and let her go. Standing up he closed the door before rounding the car and getting in the drivers side. It wasn’t until they were halfway to her house that he spoke again. Hermione had been so focused on trying not to breathe the scent of him that she almost jumped when his deep voice broke the silence.
“I should have known it would be something as asinine as the library. On a Friday night no less.” She crossed her arms over her chest, “I happen to like the library Malfoy.” “Oh yes I know. Every Tuesday and Thursday you volunteer for the children's program. Reading to snot-nosed little brats.” She ignored his snot-nosed comment, “keeping tabs on me Malfoy?” He turned to look at her and smiled with all his teeth, “of course.”
They pulled up to Grimmauld Place, Hermione noticed the light in the drawing room was still on. Harry was up, waiting on her. Getting out of the car Hermione started walking up the stairs when Malfoy grabbed her wrist. “Hermione. Do not ever go walking like that again.” She yanked her arm away and turned around, on the stairs she was eye level with him. “I can handle myself, Malfoy.”
“You aren't removed from what we do. As much as you would like to convince yourself. You are important to the two biggest families in London’s underground. You are a target. If you go walking around the city like this again I will lock you up.” Sneering, she turned away from him, “goodnight Malfoy.”
He waited until she got the door open before smiling, “goodnight Mrs. Malfoy.”
Hermione stilled, her whole body stiffening, before she walked in the house and slammed the door behind her. She did not need that particular reminder of her future. Throwing her keys and purse on the entryway table she walked into the drawing room to see Harry bending over some papers. He looked up when she walked in, green eyes locking on her.
“Did Malfoy bring you home just now?” She sighed and sat on the couch, leaning against the person who had been raised like her brother their whole lives. “Yes.” “Did he do anything?” “No. Of course not.” He wrapped his arm around her.
“Are you okay Mi? I can get you out of the city, out of the country even.” I shook my head, “no, this is where I belong and I won’t let you start a war over me.”
Hermione had learned about her betrothal to Draco when she turned twenty-one and her parents had died. Draco had apparently known since they were sixteen. It had been almost four years since then and Draco still hadn’t come to collect. She had continued to date other people, although she hadn’t seriously dated anyone since Ron, and he said nothing about it, only the reminder that one day, Hermione would be his.
It was like he was biding his time but she could not figure out the reason why. She had known Harry and Draco her whole life, being raised as a sister to Harry and to despise the Malfoys. The Potter and Malfoy families had a very long history of screwing each other over and hatred. That had stopped for the most part during their parents' teenage years. Not only had James Potter had become best friends with Sirius Black, Lucius Malfoy’s underboss.
Years later the matriarchs of the prominent families had gotten together and decided on new rules. They had wanted better for us. Since then the two families have been cordial with each other, although there was still an underlying rivalry. It wasn’t until boarding school that Harry and Draco decided to be friendly towards one another. They still argued all the time, and had even gotten into a total of thirteen fist fights, but they had created a stronger truce between the two families.
It had been rough for a while, Draco and his friends were arrogant and quick to aggravate if it brought them amusement. Nonetheless, the families, and those who worked with them, had learned to get along. For the most part. Hermione’s own father had been James Potter's right hand man, his underboss, and while there was certainly no love lost between him and Lucius Malfoy, he still saw fit to tie his only child to that family, to the Devil himself. While he looked like an angel with his pale skin and platinum hair, you could see the devil lurking behind those silver eyes.
The man radiated danger and sex appeal. Hermione had watched him grow into the feared man he was today. Lucius Malfoy had decided to step down, giving more jobs to his son. Draco had quickly started taking over and ruthlessly gained more trade and territory from lower level gangs. He had the charm to talk up politicians, he had almost everyone in his pocket. He could be King of the city. If it weren’t for Harry.
Harry was the only person Draco would ever have to worry about, which said a lot about Harry’s own power and charm. And while Draco was considered ruthless and a monster, Hermione knew that her brother could be just as evil and vindictive. Harry would not hesitate to start a war over her and Draco knew that. Everyone knew it, which was why Draco was right, she would always be a target for anyone wanting to bring Harry down or disrespect Draco.
Which was another reason why it was absurd that he had not made her marry him yet, if anything it would be a level of security for all involved. When she had first found out she had panicked and almost taken Harry up on his offer of fleeing. But while the thought of marrying Draco was terrifying, something about it was also exhilarating. It was like his darkness called to her. He understood her in a way that even she couldn’t explain.
He might call her little lion, but she was not delusional about the amount of power she had. Despite the leeway he gave her to push him and argue, he could crush her as easily as a bug under his thousand dollar shoe.