Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Heart and Soul ❯ Chapter Eight ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Author's Note: This chapter starts with the sixth book. Again, if you have not read this book, please do so before continuing. There will be some inconsistancies between this story and the book, however for the most part, this story follows along with the books.







Heart and Soul
By: Tassana Burrfoot


Chapter Eight



It had been almost two months since the last time she had been with him. Two months since she had been able to hold him, talk to him. She wanted answers.

So much had happened in the past two months. Her mind raced through these things. What was he doing in Borgin & Burkes? What did he need repaired? What was he doing in Pansy Parkinson's lap?

That bothered her the most. Though she loathed to admit it, the thought nearly tore her apart. She felt used. How could he move on to another girl so easily? Especially when she'd tried so hard to remain faithful to him? And, of all people, Pansy Parkinson!

Never mind the fact that he had almost caused Harry to miss school. If Tonks hadn't checked the train...

She approached the Room of Requirement nervously. He hadn't given her any indication that he had remembered his promise. She paced in front of the wall that hid the room. What if she was wrong? What if the room had relocated itself?

It was late. He was late. She still had homework to do. But, today was her birthday and he promised he'd be here. He couldn't forget his promise, could he?

A hand suddenly covered her mouth, startling her. "Shh," he whispered softly in her ear. "It's me."

Relieved, she turned on the spot and threw her arms around his neck. He hadn't forgotten! "I've missed you so much!" she breathed, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

With great reluctance, he pulled away. "Quickly," he told her, opening the door to the hidden room. "We don't want to be discovered."

When had the door appeared? she mused as she stepped inside.

She gasped when she saw the decor. The room was beautiful, to say the least. A table set for two was lit by soft candlelight and had a deep red velvet tablecloth covering it. Two large banners draped lazily on either side of the table, one Gryffindor, the other Slytherin.

Joining the candlelight came the soft glow of a brick and cherry wood fireplace. A dimly lit chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of a large wooden floor. Across the wooden floor was a four-poster king-sized bed.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," he announced.

Forgetting the thought of being angry with him, she squealed in delight as she hugged him. "Oh, Draco, it's beautiful!" she sighed, exuberantly.

He smiled. "I thought you would like it. Now, I know you ate a pretty big meal at dinner, so I thought a slice of cake should be enough," he reasoned, leading her by the hand to the table.

Sure enough, the table was set with elegant silver and china. Two large slices of yellow cake with chocolate icing sat in the middle of the two dishes. He lead her to the chair in front of the Gryffindor banner and pulled the chair out for her. She graciously accepted, blushing as he gently pushed her in.

He even had a small wine bucket at the table. But, instead of wine, "Would you care for some butterbeer, darling?"

She giggled as she nodded. This had to be the most romantic dessert she had ever had the pleasure of enjoying! She watched as he opened the bottle and poured some butterbeer, first in her wine glass, and then in his own. Once the bottle was back in the bucket, he lifted his wand and pointed it to a baby grand piano she hadn't noticed before.

To her delight, it started playing her favourite song, "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You." Draco took a sip of butterbeer before standing up. He held out his hand to her. "May I have this dance?"

Smiling coyly, she took a sip of her own drink before setting it down and accepting his hand. "Of course, you may," she answered, laughing as he swung her around onto the dance floor.

"Tonight, it's all about you, darling," he cooed. "The entire world has been put on pause to glorify in your beauty. All the men wish a chance to dance with you. All the girls envious of your never-ending beauty."

All the girls... That jogged her memory. She glanced up into his silver eyes. All the love he had for her shone in those eyes. She dreaded the idea of bringing up her questions when he had obviously gone through so much trouble. If she kept her mouth shut, this could become the happiest night of her life.

All the girls... "Including Pansy Parkinson?" she asked, her voice filled with more jealousy than she had intended.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Pansy Parkinson?" he questioned, not understanding.

She sighed. She knew there was no turning back. But, she had to know. "Harry told me about the incident on the train. He told me how cozy you were getting with her. He also seems to think Voldemort gave you some sort of mission, though he didn't know what. Is it true? Is Voldemort the reason you were in Borgin & Burkes?"

He stopped dancing. "How did you know I was in Borgin & Burkes?" he inquired, suspiciously.

"I-" she stammered, "that is to say, we followed you. We didn't know what you were up to and got suspicious."

He placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. "There's nothing for you to worry about," he assured her.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she blurted, suddenly. "Have you been branded with the Dark Mark?"

He looked surprised and hurt. He stepped back and pulled off his hunter green cloak. He then pushed up his sleeves and showed her both of his bare arms. "Do you see a Mark?" he inquired. "I'm only sixteen, Hermione. The Dark Lord isn't going to put an untried, underage teenager in his ranks. He hasn't gone completely mental."

Letting his sleeves fall back into place, he continued, "As for my being in Borgin & Burkes, I had to take care of something."

"You're being evasive," she pointed out, her hands falling to her hips.

"Yes, I am," he confirmed, his eyes hardening into anger. "Your friend put my father in prison, Hermione. Or have you forgotten that 'small' detail?"

"Your father put himself there," she argued. "Harry did not make your dad a Death Eater. He chose the path he walked. Now he's suffering for the choices that he made."

"You act like things are really that simple," he sneered. "The world isn't painted in black and white. Potter didn't have to say anything. My father's never killed anyone. He's never even seriously harmed anyone. Potter did that..."

"Because it was the right thing to do," she interrupted. "Besides, people already knew about your father, Draco. He would've ended up behind bars sooner or later with or without Harry saying anything."

"Yes, well, had it been later, we wouldn't have the problems we have now," he said. Sighing, he spoke a bit calmer, "The Dark Lord has assigned me with a special task. I can't tell you what the task is, but if I fail, I risk... I'll lose them both."

Hermione gasped. Voldemort was threatening the lives of Draco's parents. "But, I thought your father was one of his most faithful servants?"

"That doesn't mean he'll hesitate to carry out his threat," he told her. "My father has greatly disappointed him. Now it's up to me to save the family. Please, don't tell Potter. Or Weasley. I've told you far more than I should have. I know they are your friends, but I don't need the three of you getting involved. This is for me to do. My task."

Hermione nodded in understanding. Then, she admitted, "I'm already involved. We are working towards defeating Voldemort. I can't go into detail, but I'm confident will find a way to destroy him once and for all."

He brought her close again as the song continued to play. "It seems we both have secrets we cannot reveal to one another. Moreso than before. I fear those secrets will become even more numbered as time passes," he observed. "Right now, it doesn't really matter. Someday, when all of this is past, we'll share those secrets. We'll confide in one another as we now confide with our most trusted friends."

She loved the way he felt against her. The way their bodies swayed in rhythm to the music. "You never answered my other question," she noted, dully.

Still swaying, he gazed down at her. "What question was that?" he questioned.

"About Pansy Parkinson. Harry said you were lying in her lap," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "It's true. I was," he confessed. "But, it wasn't as, I'm sure, Potter dramatized. At your parents' house, I told you I would have to play a role. One which would secure the thoughts of those around me. No one knows of you and I. I intend to keep it that way at the moment."

"So, what's going on between the two of you?" she inquired, her heart skipping a beat.

"Absolutely nothing," he told her. "And nothing ever will. Pansy is an annoying fat cow and I hate her. Besides, my heart belongs to only one girl and that girl is you."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank, God."

Draco laughed and embraced her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous. But, Gryffindors don't get jealous over such trivial things."

"They do if they think their boyfriend has run off with a greasy little trollop," she snarled, not realizing the amount of venom in her words.

"Hermione Granger!" Draco laughed.

"Well, it's true," she stated with a huff. "I never liked Parkinson. She's foul and completely..."

"I was much like her, if I remember correctly," he interrupted, giving her a customary smirk. "Of course, I'm not so bad anymore, am I?"

"You changed," she told him.

He shook his head. "No, I'm still the same 'foul, loathsome evil cockroach' I've always been. The only thing that's really changed is my opinion and behaviour towards you. Other than that, I'm pretty much the same."

"You don't hate Muggles," she pointed out.

He gave her a half smile. "Some Muggles. Your parents aren't so bad, but I remember Martha Jones. She was a pathetic piece of work."

"Martha was just glad to see me happy," Hermione defended her Muggle friend.

He shrugged. "I suppose. But, that doesn't make what she did less annoying."

She conceded his point. The song ended and they returned to the table. They ate the cake in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, they would smile to one another. Hermione was sipping her second glass of butterbeer when Draco snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot your birthday present!"

Curious, Hermione placed her glass on the table. "But, Draco, haven't you given me enough all ready? A candlelit dessert, a romantic dance to my favourite song..."

"Our song," he corrected. "If you don't mind, I would like to make that song ours."

She blushed, but agreed. "What more could you possibly give me?"

"This," he said, holding a ring between his pointer finger and thumb.

Hermione gasped. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. It was old, too. It had five stones in a marquis style, crown shaped and held together by a gold band. The middle gem, which was also the largest, was a beautiful ruby. On either side of the ruby, sat two slightly smaller emeralds. Next to them were two diamonds which were smaller than the emeralds. The ring sparkled and glittered in the candlelight.

As if showing her the ring wasn't enough, Draco got up from his seat and knelt down in front of her. "This," he whispered, "is a Malfoy family heirloom. It has been passed down from Malfoy to Malfoy all the way back to the first Malfoy who had made it. This ring symbolizes the one thing a Malfoy treasures the most: his true love.

"I can't promise that things will go well for us. We are in the middle of a war. You and I are from two separate worlds. But, I can't imagine a future without you. I love you so much. With this ring, I am asking you, Hermione Granger, will you consent to by my wife?"

Tears formed in her eyes and fell freely down her cheeks. She had never been so happy in her entire life. She knew the world had been halted, waiting anxiously in paused breath for her answer just as Draco did. Logic and reason were abandoned as she couldn't think of anything else to say accept, "Yes. Nothing would make me happier, Draco Malfoy."

A large smile spread across his face as he gently slipped the ring on her finger. They embraced and he kissed her passionately. "You don't know how happy you've just made me," he told her.

"Mrs. Hermione Malfoy," she tried the name.

At first the words sounded odd on her lips, but then she liked it. It felt nice. Perfect. "You know, I'll be the first Muggle-born to enter the family?"

He nodded, then frowned. "No, there was one other," he corrected. "Or rather, I think there was a long time ago, though I could be mistaken."

"There have been one or two Half-Bloods," she recalled from her research. "But, no Muggle-borns."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," he commented with a shrug. "Now, I have to tell you of this ring. It does have magical properties. Since you are it's new owner, it will only recognize you, and will only work for you. There's a special Shield Charm on it which will protect you from most life-threatening circumstances. I say 'most' because it will not protect you from the Killing Curse.

"Also, this ring has an imprint of you within it. No one can take it away from you save myself or our first born son. It belongs to you. It's yours. Not even my parents can take it from you. You can also take it off and wear it on a chain around your neck or carry it in your pocket. The affects will work the same as long as it's on your person. If I take it from you, the spell will be broken, the ring will shatter, and the Malfoy line will end with me."

She looked at him curiously. "Why will it end with you?" she inquired.

"Like I said," he explained, "the ring has you imprinted into it. It won't accept another wearer until our oldest son selects a bride. If I decide I don't want to marry you, or if you decide you no longer wish to marry me, then I will never marry. I have to marry in order for my name to be passed to a child."

"Yes, but illegitimate children are born everyday. And they can take either parent's name," she argued.

"Another Muggle thing, I assume," he commented. "Things work differently among the Wizarding community. Only in marriage can a father claim his child. Marriage is a binding and everlasting circumstance as well. I've heard that Muggles practice something called... divorce? That doesn't happen here. Marriage is for life."

"You're leaving a lot of things to chance, if that's the case," she observed. "If what you say is true, then we might as well all ready be married, technically if not officially."

He thought a moment before answering, "In a sense, yes. But you still have a chance to walk out of it, if you choose. You aren't bound yet. In fact, I still have almost a year before we can actually marry. I'm putting my trust in us, in our love for one another."

Hermione sighed, "I know. You have to be seventeen in the Wizarding World. You're only sixteen. But, Draco, a lot can happen in nine months."

"I know for a fact it will," he responded. "You might very well change your mind about me come June."

She raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it," she disagreed. "I don't know your plans, Draco, but I don't think they'll be enough to keep me away from you. Like you said, we both have secrets. We both have a job to do. You have to protect your parents. I have to stop Voldemort... I do not doubt that there will be times when I will think about changing my mind. We'll most likely exchange words, but I'm not leaving you. I love you, Draco Malfoy. Hell or high water, I will be your wife. Nothing will come between us and our happiness."

He smile and kissed her tenderly. "Spoken like a true Malfoy."