Nan's Lovely Garden
Draco watched her silently as she paced back and forth.
She had led him into the center of the maze by his wrist, which now had the imprint of a small, angry hand circled around them.
“So, let me see if I have a full grasp on what the bloody hell is going on here.” Her voice was hard as she spoke.
He sat quietly and rubbed at his wrists to get the blood flowing while she berated him.
“We’ve been arranged to be married since birth,” she begins to pace back and forth, “and you found out about this a full year ago? And you didn’t say anything to me because you thought you could convince your father to accept Astoria Greengrass as your wife?”
Under the summer sun, a sweat builds on the bridge of her nose, which Draco had the small inclination to swipe at with the handkerchief in his pocket.
He observed her thoughtfully as she paced, taking in the color of her hair in the sunlight. Chocolate brown with a violet tint, falling in waves down her back but pinned away from her face.
She was pretty, he knew, but he hadn’t been this close to her ever. Up close, he could see the light smattering of freckles that covered her tan skin.
“And instead of courting me, or even speaking to me, as you convinced your parents you were, you show up to my house and ambush me in front of our families,” Hermione begins to move her hands in colorful gestures, jutting them out left and right as she spoke, “And now I’m supposed to just jump into the role of crown princess?.. What makes you so sure I won’t go in there and call this whole thing off?”
Her eyes are icy as she stares into his. She’s searching for the truth and he is suddenly confident that if he doesn’t speak now, she’ll piece it together herself.
Shite.
Realization spreads across her face and Draco knows he’s been had.
“I’m sorry.” Is all he can say.
“You didn’t.” Hermione looks sick. ”The contract… I had to verbally agree, didn’t I?”
Draco feels his stomach drop. He is silent again.
“You’re a coward.” For a moment, she looks genuinely hurt but it doesn’t last long before the sad look behind her eyes turns into rage. "YOU TRICKED ME!”
She grabs fistfuls of her skirt up in her hands and spins on her heel.
“Wait!” Draco is all too quick to give chase when she turns to the hedge wall beside them and begins making her way back to the house. “Wait! Wait! Please!”
Was she an athlete?
He was almost wheezing trying to catch her. For someone with considerably shorter legs than him, she sure did make catching up to her a bit difficult.
It was all he could do to keep track of her back as she sped down the turns rapidly.
“Of all the insufferable, pigheaded, absolute fucking twats in the world… nothing but a self important, pompous, inconsiderate asshole!” He could hear her muttering between hedges and around corners until he had just enough space between them to jolt forward and grab her by the wrist.
“I said, wait!” He growled.
“Let go!” She spat at him, struggling against the hold he had on her.
He didn’t let go. In fact, he did something that only made things worse. He pushed against her waist with his free hand, pinning her against the maze wall with almost too much force to treat a lady with. “I had no choice! Granger… I had no choice.”
Hermione was quicker than him, though, and it was only a mere matter of seconds before Draco registered the wand pressing into his throat.
When had she pulled that out?
They were both breathing hard from the brisk chase. Neither speaking, only trying to read the other stranger's face.
After a moment, she speaks slowly, as if willing him to believe her. “I will carve a Prince sized hole into my Nan’s lovely garden maze if you do not release me this instant.”
Something in her eyes told Draco she was serious, and he knew she could do it. But he was serious too, and his life was in her hands at this point.
“Not until you hear me out.” His voice is low.
It was an oddly intense moment. The tension seemed to build with every breath they took until Draco was sure she would tear the garden apart before he could convince her.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she glances down at his lips and Draco is stuck.
What the fuck is going on?
Neither of them knew.
When she meets his eyes again, her face is flushed. Another pregnant silence later, another moment of reading, and Draco knew they had an agreement.
He released her and she dropped her arm, shoving her wand back into a hidden pocket on her dress.
“The truth.” Hermione says. “I think you owe me that much.”
“My father…” Draco paused. He hadn’t said it out loud since he found out. Saying it felt like it was real. “My father is sick.”
He didn’t look at her, but he knew the look she was giving him. Hermione Granger pitied him. “I'm sorry about your father, your highness… but that doesn’t give you the right to trick me into marrying you.”
He swallows the pit forming in his throat.
“I know, Ms. Granger, and I’m sorry. But I wouldn’t have done that if I had any other choice.” He sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “You know now that we have been arranged to be married since we were born. Now that my father is sick-”
“-You have to produce an heir before he’s passed.” She leans against the wall, eyes focused on a spot on the ground. “How long?”
“They gave him four years at most.”
“And you've known for a year, so three left.”
“I-I’m sorry I tricked you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” And he really was sorry, to have had to resort to this. “I tried my hardest to leave you out of this all together, but I failed in the end. I didn't want this for you. ”
She doesn’t say anything for a while and Draco swears she swipes at tears he can’t see. While she collects her thoughts, he fiddles with some of the leaves on the hedge wall.
Draco hasn’t felt this way since he was a kid. He was almost vulnerable . His entire life is currently in Hermione Granger's hands.
But he didn’t feel scared.
“I can’t say I forgive you just yet, but I always knew that if my grandparents arranged a marriage for me, I wouldn’t have said no.” She looks up at him finally, the aforementioned tears gone from her eyes. “I owe them everything I have. Although I do think we should work on your communication skills.”
Because he came here knowing her weakness: she will never leave a person out to dry.
“Thank you.” He takes her hands in his, noting the way she flinches before allowing it. “I promise to work on it.”
His thumb runs over his grandmother’s ring and wonders if she realizes that this is her shackle.
T H E W I T C H I N G H O U R
If you had told Hermione Granger when she woke up on the 21st day of July, that by mid afternoon, she would be engaged to be married to the Prince of Wales, she would have laughed in your face.
But, then again, here she was, sitting in the west drawing room of Granger Park having tea with the King and Queen, mere minutes after her fourth conversation in total with her fiancé.
They offered their excuses for why they left, claiming to have wanted a moment alone to process the news. If anyone notices the leaves stuck to the back of her head, they don't say anything. Narcissa only shares a knowing glance with Madam Granger while they continue to sip their tea.
Later that night, after their guests have left and her grandmother has finished talking her ear off about what is left to do before the wedding at the end of summer, she receives a knock at her window.
It is a great horned owl, possibly the largest she’s ever seen, with a newspaper and a note attached to its large talon.
The note was written in an elegant scrawl that read:
9AM at Sandringham, I’ll leave the floo open for you.
Forever Grateful,
Draco Lucius Windsor Malfoy
Prince of Wales
When she opened the newspaper, she was surprised to meet the ice blue eyes of Draco, Prince of Wales. He was smiling with an ease she had yet to see. But it was the headline that made her stomach turn.
A Royal Romance: Prince of Wales Set to Wed by End of Summer
The date is written one day in advance.
Tomorrow morning, life as she knew it would be over for Hermione Granger.
Fuck.