Most ardently by Swift Night, Chapter 12.
Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy repeated.
She thought she might have heard his voice quiver, but it could
have easily been the wind. Hermione said nothing, not even
offering him a courtesy or nod of the head.
Let him hate her for her lack of manners.
She hated him for his lack of conscience.
Apologies, but I must speak with you.
He insisted, failing to acknowledge her blatant
disregard. I cannot continue on like this.
My agony can finally be at an end.
After months of this torment. I had come all the way to Kent
for the sole purpose of seeing you, but now it appears my time
has run out. She stood frozen in place, but
he did not halt his impassioned speech, his words coming faster
now. You must understand, I had to
see you. Despite my better judgement,
your blood status, and my family's expectations on such
matters. I must place them all aside to
ask you to put an end to my misery.
I do not follow you, Mr. Malfoy. She managed to reply, even more
confused than before. I love you, Miss Granger, most
ardently. I cannot repress my affection
for you any longer. Mr. Malfoy swallowed, his Adam's
apple bobbing. Please, do me the honour of
accepting my hand, of becoming my wife.
Hermione blanched, taken aback by the audacity of his
unexpected proposal. But it was a proposal, no less.
He finally paused his ramblings, seeming eager for her reply.
She took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes as she began.
I must say that it was never my intention to cause you pain.
Believe me, Sir, it was unintentionally done.
Her voice was colder than she expected, but she still meant
the word she said. Hermione could not be mistaken
as the cruel one between them. Is this your reply?
His shoulder straightened as he shuffled his feet, seeming to
fight between the urge to close in on her or step back to put
more distance between them. It is.
Hermione answered, raising her chin to meet his now guarded
expression. This seemed to make him angry.
His silver eyes narrowed in on her, but she would not cower
before them like so many others. Are you rejecting me?
Mr. Malfoy demanded, his voice sharpening.
It seems you already have a long list of reasons why I would not
be an ideal match for someone in as high regard as you, so I
shall hope that those very reasons you gave will aid you in
overcoming whatever affections you claim to hold for me.
Might I ask why you are not willing to afford me any
civility in such a matter? How dare he?
Her shock from his appearance and confession was wearing off,
and she found herself unable to hold her song.
Perhaps the reason has nothing to do with me.
Did you ever consider how insulting it is to be told of
another's affections despite it going against what they deem
their better judgement? You must understand.
The wizard began again, but she could not let him continue.
That alone is enough of an excuse, but I have all the
reasons I will ever need, and you are well aware of them.
Hermione shouted, her fury growing.
I am afraid I am unaware of these reasons.
Mr. Malfoy claimed, causing her to scoff.
Do you believe that I am such a fickle creature that I would be
open to accepting the hand of the wizard who has ruined,
perhaps forever, my most beloved sister's chance for true
happiness? Luna and Hermione may have only
been the wards of the Weasleys, but their bond was unbreakable.
It was not blood that bonded them, but true and unconditional
love. But of course, Mr. Malfoy would
do nothing of those types of bonds, priding himself on being
an only child to such a rich and powerful family.
There had been through this discussion before, but it seemed
he had failed to understand her during her previous attempts to
explain. When he said nothing in reply,
Hermione pushed on, wanting confirmation of his wickedness.
Will you deny it? She questioned.
Deny that you separated a couple who loved each other based on
your own opinion, that you would encourage your friend to leave
my sister lonely and heartbroken.
I do not deny it, he said plainly.
And why? He saw no regret, no remorse,
only cold indifference written upon his features as he spoke.
What drove you to do it? She demanded of him, appalled by
his unfeeling nature. Perhaps you wanted them to be
just as miserable as you were. It was because I found her
indifferent to him. Indifference.
Is that what you claim? Hermione repeated through her
barred teeth. I watched them over those weeks,
observed them closely. Miss Lovegood's affection was
not as deep as his. He accused.
Aluna is shy and gentle. Hermione insisted, unsure why
she was being forced to defend her sister to him but unwilling
to let the insult stand. Blaise was convinced she did not
feel the same. Because you persuaded him
otherwise, thinking you knew best.
I did what was best for my friend.
You cannot fault me for that. His haughty arrogance had
returned in full force. My sister barely reveals her
true feelings to me. And yet even she could not hide
A devastation at his abandonment.
I shall fault you for it, Mr. Malfoy, because you are to
blame. At this, his scowl had turned
into a small frown, but he gave no further reply.
Do you think her too eager for a gentleman's fortune, is that it?
Mr. Sabini didn't seem to vex himself over it.
She should have let it go, but he was being so candid, and what
did it matter? Hermione wanted answers, and she
was likely never to have a chance to confront him again
after today. No, he said with surprising
sincerity. No, I would not stoop to
dishonor Miss Lovegood in such a way.
It is not she who falls under such accusations, though.
Others found themselves to be What others?
Hermione cut in. It was made abundantly clear by
members of your household that they desired an advantageous
match while displaying A glaring lack of propriety.
He accused your mother's boasting, your younger sister's
lack of decorum for which your father failed to correct, all
appeared most disingenuous. Hermione flinched on this.
She had no rebuttal, for she herself found her adopted
family's actions distasteful at times, and it crushed her to
know that Luna was the one punished for it.
Her face must have shown her hurt, his eyes softening.
Aye, forgive me, Miss Granger, I must exclude you and Miss Love
your sister in such matters. None of these things could be
said about you. She did not want to forgive him.
Hermione wanted to continue to shout, but she had nothing left
to say on the matter that would make any difference.
Instead, she moved on to another topic that had plagued her.
And what would you say if Mr. Potter?
His eyes narrowed to slits again, the skull returning even
more severe than before. Mr. Potter.
Malfoy spat the name as if it were a curse.
What excuses do you have for your cruelty towards him?
Cruelty. Malvoy stepped forward, closing
the distance between them. What would you know of it?
He has spoken of his misfortunes.
Ah, yes, I'm sure he has. His voice took on a bitter edge.
You rob him of a respectable living and don't you treat him
with sarcasm. Tell me, Miss Granger, has he
been the standard by which you set your opinion of me?
I must thank you for being so honest.
I could forgive such offences if your own pride had not been
injured by my openness in admitting Hermione so red my
pride. She shouted over him.
Do you expect me to celebrate the inferiority of your origin?
He snarled. Hermione flinched.
She felt as if he had slapped her.
It might have been better if he had.
I see you are too much of A gentleman to call me a mudblood
to my face, but do you think I am unaware of your use of the
word upon our introduction? Even now, you would rather hide
behind such flowery language, simply hinting at your disgust
at my blood status, and I shall not allow the insult any longer.
Every instinct told her to step away from him, but he had a way
of causing her to ignore them. She found herself looking up at
him closer than they had ever been, his eyes a shimmering grey
storm. Since your arrival and our
acquaintance, you have proven yourself to be conceited,
selfish, and prejudice against all you believe to be beneath
you. These facts alone have made me
realise that you would be the last wizard on earth I could be
compelled to marry. She squared her shoulders,
readying for his response, but he only stood frozen.
Hermione watched a dozen emotions flit across his face,
his gaze momentarily dropping to her lips before settling into a
cold mask he always wore. He stepped back and she
shivered, suddenly aware of the absence of his heat.
Apologies. His voice was softer than she
anticipated. I have wasted too much of your
time, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy turned on his heels
and walked out to the edge of the garden.
He did not look back as he made it to the wards, the sound of
his disapparition drowned out by the Thunder overhead.
Hermione was unsure how long she had stood frozen, coming to her
senses when the rain had finally stopped.
She was chilled to the bone, her dress still heavy and damp after
being soaked through. She pulled her wand and cast a
drying charm, departing before anyone else could accost her in
the gardens. Darkness was closing in when
Hermione finally returned to the small cottage of her cousin and
his wife. She managed to brush off their
concerns of her late return lying and insisted she had
waited out the storm alone. Cousin Ron and Lavender
thankfully let her escape upstairs without further fuss,
instructing the servants to draw her a warm path for which she
was grateful. She soaked in the warmth until
her fingers pruned, only emerging from the tub once her
hunger set in. To her surprise, she found that
Lavender had placed the dinner tray under a stasis charm.
Her heart softened at the comfort of her friend.
Hermione dug in, letting the Stew fight off the remaining
chill in her bones as she pondered the events of the day.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not hear when
Lavender knocked to check in on her.
Hermione. Lavender repeated.
Are you sure you're all right? Yes, just tired after such a
long day. She lied again.
Lavender appraised her. They had been friends for years
and the witch seemed to know she would not be able to pry more
information from Hermione tonight.
All right, She relented. I just came to deliver you Mr.
Malfoy's letter. He insisted I give it to you
immediately. However, I do not understand the
urgency he could have just owed you.
Hermione jolted upright, her eyes catching sight of the pale
green envelope held in the witch's outstretched hand.
Not wanting to seem too eager, she took it tentatively before
setting it to the side, making a show of picking back up her
spoon. You're not going to read it?
Lavender asked. I'm sure it is nothing that
can't wait for me to finish my soup.
She said casually. Hmm.
The witch eyed her sceptically, but Hermione kept her face
neutral, hoping to appear unbothered.
Lavender, without any evidence to interrogate her further, left
her be, closing the door softly behind her.
Hermione's eyes immediately returned to the envelope,
examining it closer now that she was alone.
It was heavy in her hands, written on expensive stationary.
She'd seen his seal before when she was just a guest at
Featherfield, but now she could discern it more clearly.
The silver wax had been stamped with his house symbol, a
Peacock, she realised. She ran a finger against the
hardened wax, debating if she would read it or send it
straight into the fire. It had only been a few hours
since they had spoken, yet already he was hand delivering
letters to her. Perhaps this letter was an
apology, or perhaps he wished to insult her again without her
being able to interrupt. She wouldn't know unless she
read it. Realizing her soup had grown
cold, Hermione sighed, sliding her finger under the wax and
breaking the seal. After all, nothing he said could
change her already ruined opinion of Mr. Draco Malfoy.