A Most Advantageous Match
Chapter 2: Wifely Duties and Husbandly Declarations
The House of Black was a fine townhouse in a slightly disreputable part of London. Luckily, magic had a way of making the disreputable avoidable, and so, the house left almost nothing to be desired. The house was run by one reluctantly free house-elf named Winky, who in fact looked down upon Harry for his unwillingness to enslave her, but her attitude did not affect her service.
Harry had inherited the house upon his godfather's death and had been quite reluctant to set foot in it until recently. Extensive refurbishing and redecorating had left the place barely recognizable from Lord Black's days, however, and when they entered the house from their bridal carriage, Harry's demeanor showed no misgivings.
Winky appeared to collect their coats and hats the moment the two stepped into the foyer, and a moment later, all their belongings (along with Winky and the coats) disappeared, presumably headed upstairs.
"Come," Harry said. "Let me show you to your room - which, I might add, is located conveniently near the library."
Hermione laughed. "This was your plan all along, was it not? To take a mad wife and keep her locked away in the library?"
"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," Harry said with a smirk. "Although," he added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I have added a considerable number of volumes since your last visit."
Hermione grinned as he led her to a room across from the library on the second floor, presumably next to his own bedchamber, from the looks of things. Hermione entered to find her belongings already in place, and was astonished at how beautifully the room had been decorated. The walls were a pretty, sedate shade of sage green, and the furniture was of a lovely dark wood. The four-poster bed looked particularly magnificent, with a white bedcover embroidered with elaborate vines of ivy.
"Is - is it to your liking?" Harry asked, almost shyly, from the doorway.
Hermione turned to him with a smile. "Oh, yes - yes, of course. It's lovely."
"Well," Harry said, "Should you want for anything, you need only say the word. And you need only call, of course, should you require Winky. I - I'll be next door. I'll…see you at supper, then?"
Hermione nodded, and was left alone for the first time since their marriage.
Feeling inexplicably lonely, Hermione sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Her emotions were exceedingly puzzling to her; her despondency was without due cause. Her wedding had been happy, and their trip to London had been peaceful and pleasant. Nor had anything changed for the worse in her relationship with Harry. Indeed, they bantered much as they always had, and he was, as usual, kind and gentlemanly. What could have possibly changed to leave her so listless?
Perhaps that was the problem, then, it occurred to her. Today she was a married woman, a wife, and she felt as though nothing had changed since her visit to the House of Black the previous summer. She felt no different; her husband treated her no differently than he had the day before, or months before, when an engagement had been far from their minds.
She was being silly, was she not? What, precisely, had she expected to change? Had she expected a more affectionate mien from the man that was now her husband? He had never been the sort to display his emotions openly, even to one whose confidence he sought as readily as hers. Should Harry have showered her with affection, then she would have had cause to feel uneasy.
Nevertheless, she realized, she had hoped, in some distant part of her heart, that their wedding would somehow magically turn them into a loving couple.
She could not believe she had allowed herself to be so ridiculous, especially without her notice.
With a sigh at her lapse into silliness, Hermione turned her attention to her trunk, where she searched for one of the new gowns she had had made for her new life as a married woman.
Hermione was nothing if not pragmatic, and if this wasn't the perfect marriage, then she would make the most of it, like all the other strong women of her time. In fact, she decided, as she took out a lovely, pale blue frock, she would excel at married life, as she did at every endeavor she undertook. She would give Harry no cause to regret taking her as his wife.
Invigorated by her newly re-evaluated attitude, Hermione wasted no more time in calling Winky to help her change.
~
"You look lovely," Harry said as he escorted her to the dining room.
"Thank you," she said, wondering if his compliments held more significance, now that they were married. He'd always been somewhat complimentary toward her, although he lacked the self-assurance to pay such attentions to other young ladies. Although she'd never doubted the sincerity of his words, she generally thought his compliments to be of a brotherly nature, more observation than admiration. Could his words be out of a different kind of affection for her now, or was she silly to expect any change at all?
Harry helped her into her seat and moved to sit across from her. The table seemed extraordinarily large with only the two of them sitting at it.
"Have you any diversions in mind for tomorrow, Hermione?" Harry asked as the first course was served.
"No, I must admit, I had not thought much beyond today's activities," Hermione replied, wondering at her new husband's utter placidity. Was he not unsettled at all by what was to come?
"Did you fear you would not live through the day?" Harry asked, grinning.
"Certainly not. I simply did not seek to plan for a day whose events I could not reasonably foresee. I had no idea what married life would require of me."
Harry smiled. "I believe the purpose of the honeymoon is to postpone the requirements of married life, Miss Granger."
"You forget, I am Mrs. Potter now," Hermione said, unexpectedly injured by the misnomer.
"Forgive me," Harry said hastily. "I have not forgotten - I merely spoke with the impulse of familiarity. "Indeed," he added with an odd look about his face, "You are Mrs. Potter now."
A moment of silence passed, filled with unspoken thoughts as a house-elf delivered the second course.
"Well," Harry spoke eventually, "London is never without its entertainments. I am sure we will uncover something to amuse us. Or we may stay in, if it would please you. I know you find society almost as irksome as I do."
"Indeed. We shall see what tomorrow affords," Hermione said.
Little else of consequence was discussed during their late supper, and at last, they retired - this done with no little trepidation on Hermione's part and apparent ease by Harry.
Hermione's unease turned to complete confusion when Harry bid her goodnight at her bedroom door. While she hadn't been entirely sure as to how the consummation of their marriage was to be initiated, she certainly didn't believe it could begin with the words "good night." One didn't say such a thing to a person he expected to see before morning, surely.
Frowning, Hermione entered her dressing room and prepared for bed. Once in her bedchamber, wearing a pretty and rather impractical nightgown, Hermione sat on her bed, wondering what was to be done.
Perhaps Harry had bid her good night only as a formality, and would come to her when he was ready.
Or, perhaps, he expected her to come to him. The few married girls in Gryffindor Tower had not hesitated to inform her of the nature of a wife's duties, which did include the act Hermione was currently worrying over.
After several minutes of deliberation and rather ferocious gnawing at her bottom lip, Hermione decided she would go to Harry and get to the bottom of this…business. Surely, if she and Harry were expected to commit this act as husband and wife, it should not be at all improper for them to speak of it in private chambers.
That settled, Hermione wasted no time in going to the door that adjoined their bedchambers and knocking - perhaps a little more sharply than she ought to have.
"Hermione?" she heard him inquire through the door.
"Yes," she said. Hermione wondered just who he expected to be at that particular door, especially at such an hour.
"Er - come in."
Hermione turned the knob only to find darkness on the other side. Harry had already extinguished his candle and, as far as she could tell, had made his way into bed.
"I - I'm sorry to disturb you," she said, stepping tentatively into the room, "but I'm a little…er…perplexed."
The bedclothes rustled as Harry sat up. "Well, come here and tell me what is troubling you."
Hermione padded barefoot over to his bed and sat hesitantly. She was grateful now for the darkness, for it meant Harry would not be able to see her blush as she attempted to explain herself.
"As I said, I'm a bit perplexed because…well, I've been told that upon one's wedding night, it is…er…customary, to consummate the marriage, and…well, we don't appear to be doing that."
Harry's reaction was a rather audible intake of breath.
"I - I did not think you would…want to…er…consummate," Harry said. "Until such time as you wanted to have children, of course. Presuming you want to have children at all."
"I did not think I had a choice," Hermione replied truthfully.
"Well…you certainly ought to. As I'm sure you've heard, it is…quite painful for a lady, the first time, and I do not wish to inflict that upon you until it is necessary."
"I see," Hermione said, although she felt as befuddled as ever. "And…when shall we have children?"
"When you wish to," Harry said. "I assumed you would want time to settle in before you…became with child. But when the time is right, you need only tell me - if, in fact, you wish to have my children."
Hermione frowned into the darkness. "And just who else's children am I to have? Besides, you must have an heir. I can't bear the thought of your awful cousin inheriting everything."
Harry gave a slight snort of laughter. "Actually, since the estates are protected by magical law, they will go to my nearest living magical relative…but then, that's probably not much better. I don't yet know who the closest relative is, but it's sure to be a member of one of the old wizarding families - we're all interconnected, as it is. Perhaps we do need an heir, lest the estate land in the hands of a Malfoy."
"Indeed, you must have an heir," Hermione agreed, suppressing a shudder at the thought of the Potter name dying and its wealth falling prey to a character so unsavory as a Malfoy.
Harry patted her hand that rested on the bed cover. "All will be managed in due time, Hermione. For now, you should rest. It has been an eventful day."
Hermione nodded and returned to her own bedchamber, wondering why, exactly, she felt so disappointed when she should have felt relieved.