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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.
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"Because you're going to marry me."
At first, Hermione was too stunned to speak, or even move. The words that Harry had spoken were as vague to her as the French phrases she had been forced to learn while growing up.
Did he really say she was going to marry him?
She waited for him to say more, or even take back the words that he obviously let out carelessly, but he didn't.
He was looking at her expectantly, breathing hard; not uttering so much as a single word that Hermione began to wonder whether he himself was aware of what he had said.
She opened her mouth, but only a small sound came out before she closed it again.
Harry gave her a little shake before ending the silence that had consumed the room in the space of a heartbeat. "Are you going to marry me or not?"
"What?! No!" said Hermione, pushing him away.
Puzzled, but not dejected her refusal, Harry followed her when she walked towards the dresser to retrieve her discarded clothing. "Why not?" he asked.
"I rather think you know the reason," she replied simply, not even giving him the pleasure of looking sorry. When he only looked as if he were going to come up with an answer within a month or two, she exasperated. "Have you forgotten that…"
"You hate me? No, I haven't forgotten that," he shook his head, giving her a sarcastic smile, "not when you constantly remind me with your kind words, my lady."
Remembering the way he had pertained to her coldness earlier, Hermione gave him a smile through gritted teeth. "Well then. Now that we know the reason why I simply cannot marry you, you don't mind leaving, do you? I really have a lot of packing to do,"
She but all grabbed his arm and dragged him across her chambers. But before she could open the door for him, he braced his palm against it and turned around to face her. "What else do you want from me? I've already said I'll marry you."
She granted Harry a mocking glance. "Pardon me for not accepting your heart-stopping proposal, your grace."
He gave her a long look before smiling foolishly. "Is that what this is about?"
She refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her roll her eyes as she left him standing where he was and crossed the room to pick up the clothes she had dropped when he cornered her minutes ago.
Had it only been a few minutes?
It felt more like a lifetime between the Harry banging on her door like a wild man and the one asking for her hand in marriage.
Well, Hermione thought, technically he didn't ask the first time.
He sort of told her she would marry him.
The arrogant brute!
"I was right, wasn't I?" he claimed behind her, smirking for some reason, "you really do want me ask for your hand on one knee."
Rubbing her forehead in impatience, she furiously bent to get her things off the floor and dumped them unceremoniously on her bed. "What I want is for you to leave my chambers. Not marriage. Not a husband. Not you."
"Not a husband?" he repeated, moving forward, "But you are going back to Ravenclaw to search for one, are you not?"
"I've changed my mind," Hermione reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Your reputation would suffer," Harry reminded her in a singsong voice. What was he doing? Was he really trying to convince her to agree into marrying him?
"I find it unnecessary to save it since I do not even desire a husband with which it will be of most use," she replied heatedly.
"And all that talk of finally giving your people the next Earl of Ravenclaw is what? Just something to thwart me?" Harry pointed out, splaying his hands as if he were merely asking as a bystander.
"Do you want to be the Earl of Ravenclaw?" Hermione challenged him, knowing full the meaning insinuated in her question.
"It will do more good than bad," he shook his head, "I am already a duke, as you well know, but one more title would not hurt me."
But the truth was, it will. To actually assume the title that had once belonged to the man whose daughter loathed his existence was definitely not in his list of aspirations.
Hermione gave him this long scrutinizing stare before shaking her head in disbelief and resumed her task. Harry felt as if she had already branded what was transpiring between them as a passing phase that would go away because she certainly did not seem to think that he was serious.
Despite the fact that he wasn't as certain as he had been when he said that he would marry her, he was a man of his word, and if he said he would and she heard it, there was no way he would back down, not even when she refused.
It didn't matter that he was sweating in his suit right now, or that his palms were as sweaty as they were when he was out in the field, toiling under the sun. All that mattered was that she remained in Sirius' mansion.
Something felt wrong, and he was certain of it. Although he was not exactly sure what was causing it, he would not risk Hermione's safety by letting her cavort halfway across Hogwarts to return to Ravenclaw.
The air seemed a little too still for his liking.
"Marry me," he found himself saying again, hoping that she would agree, or even just say that she would think about it. At least, she would be staying in the mansion.
But what if she decided to think about it in Ravenclaw?
"No," Hermione didn't even look at him and Harry felt like a kid having been refused of sweets.
"Why not?"
She straightened, and then looked at him, a sarcastic look had befallen upon her once poignant face, the tears that had clouded her vision were gone and the fiery spark that he was used to seeing was back. He almost smiled at the thought that he was the one who made her feel normal again, forgetting the fact that he had caused both emotions to surface from her.
"Was I warped back into time, your grace, because I seem to recall being through this discussion already," she thoroughly sounded dumbfounded that he bit back a retort.
She didn't need another sarcastic reply, he surmised, what she needed was a serious reason for agreeing. But even as he scoured his mind on different explanations, he couldn't come up with a good one…for her, that is.
He cautiously approached Hermione, and when she didn't show any sign of protest, he grew even more courageous.
"You hate me, I know. You've clearly stated---and shown---and reminded me---as much," Harry began teasingly, and then took both her hands in his, tightening when she began to struggle, "but out there are people talking about us. As much as I do not care that they are, we need to do what is expected."
"No, we don't," she replied, still trying to twist her hands free.
Ignoring her, he continued. "How can we earn the respect of our estates when we, ourselves, do not respect the very law that governs them?"
Hermione stopped struggling, his words appearing to have an effect on her.
This time, he triumphantly grinned, she would agree.
Slowly, almost reverently, she brought her face up to meet his and Harry felt his heart pounding strongly against his chest. His gaze slipped from her eyes and onto her lips, waiting with bated breath as they formed one word.
"No."
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Somewhere outside the mansion, a burly man stood, shoulders hunched, neck strained, as he gazed up at the sky. The clouds were looming near once more, threatening the world below of a brewing storm. He wondered whether the cold was from the weather or just the chill of the crime that was to happen in any minute.
Two men working with him approached cautiously, unsure of what mood he was in.
"Is everything ready?" He asked without looking at the man.
"Aye," the smaller of the two replied, his head nodding twice. This one was in charge of the lookout for their target, and while the other was one of the bandits who were consigned to position themselves outside the Black Mansion and wait for further orders.
Mason jeered. "Good."
Following his gaze, one of the balding bandits licked his lips, his tongue flicking at the thought of the beauty that he was to behold that night, beside him, his companion looked just as heinous. "While the miss is with me lads and me, surely we could…"
"Nay," he hissed, "touch her or Lord Riddle will have yer heads."
With one last look of contempt, they turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
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Harry blinked twice. "What do you mean no?"
"Are we back to this again?" asked Hermione, looking away, "I've already told you my reason, there is nothing more to say, your grace."
"Yes, yes, you hate me, I know," Harry could no longer contain his impatience, already aware that they would be cursing each other by the end of the evening, again, "Well, you're not the only one who feels that way, madam, because right now, I find you insufferable as well."
"All the more reason you should not be forcing me to agree, don't you think?" she held her stance, refusing to be swayed by his scorching voice.
"You're right, I ought to stop making a fool of myself by asking an ungrateful brat such as yourself to marry me," he agreed, nodding menacingly, and then bearing down on her with his full height, "but you know what? I think I will not."
"What?" Hermione gasped at his sudden nearness. "Why?"
"Because unlike you, my sweet, I am willing to give up my freedom in order to right the situation that you have brought upon us. Or need I remind you that…?"
"For God's sake, stop blaming me for your fall!" Hermione interrupted, feeling disgraced even though it really was somewhat her fault that he did, "You fell because you didn't trust me enough to handle such a simple thing as riding on my own."
"Well, now at least you know how it feels to be blamed irrationally!" Harry retorted, then he smiled at her mockingly, "It doesn't feel great, does it? No, not when you have done nothing but follow your principles."
Hermione could barely control her hands from tightening into fists at her side. "For your information, I blame you for my father's death because you had the chance to save him, but you chose not to. Because of your own selfish reasons, he didn't even have the chance to live!"
"Don't patronize me by telling me that I had been the only person who could have rescued your father," he said scornfully, "You were the reason he was kidnapped. All you had to do was agree to marry that heir of Riddle, but you didn't. So why don't I see you blaming yourself for your father's death?!"
"How did you…?" The look of shock on Hermione's face instantly sobered Harry.
"Yes, I know about the deal. Sirius told me."
Hermione looked away angrily. "He had no right."
"He only said that because it was inevitable. It was bound to come up in any conversation we had about you. And I'm glad he told me. You were spitting fire at me since the moment we met; it was about time I finally had an idea what was causing your anger," Harry defended, bracing one hand up against the post of her bed, "You clearly do not have any idea how much distress you're causing me, when you yourself are accountable for what has happened to you."
"Why, you!" she jabbed at him, hurt slashing in her eyes now, the pain of remembering what she had been through all those years alone searing her heart, "You have no right to yell at me for something you don't even know about. If I had my own way, I would have done anything to spare his life."
"Then don't blame me!" Harry threw his hands in the air, "You had what it took to save him, but you had the audacity to shift the responsibility to me. Had it ever occurred to you that I had a practical reason for not agreeing to your request?"
"What would you have expected of me? My father's life was in my hands. I would have married Riddle's heir had my father allowed me to do so," she muttered heatedly.
"Of course he wouldn't have allowed you to marry the man!" Harry exclaimed, "You were his daughter, for crying out loud!"
She stared at him for his indirect justification regarding her actions, and then she took a deep breath, "You were our last resort, did you know that? I had great confidence that he would survive in your hands. But you didn't even give him the chance."
"And that makes you the lesser of two evils?" Harry asked, his tone matching hers, "Just because I had the chance to rescue him, when you couldn't?"
"It's not about me!" she exasperated, hot tears burning her eyes again, "When I saw you that night, and you made it clear that you were not going to do anything, you destroyed the image that I had created in my head. An image that I pictured about you the first time I heard of your existence."
"What image might that have been? A superhero?" he mocked.
Ignoring him, she continued, "I had hoped that you would bring back my father. But you turned out to be this disappointment that caused me the only person who understood me more than anything!"
"Whatever stories you've heard about me, my lady, had to have either been exaggerations or lies. I was not indestructible."
"No, but you were supposed to be this dueler who had yet to fail in a mission," she muttered grudgingly, then she shook her head, "Why are we even discussing this? No matter how hard I try to explain myself, you only mock me for whatever reasons I tell you."
"If I promise to understand you for hating me, will you agree to marry me?"
His question had been brought up so surprisingly that it took Hermione another second to actually understand what he was saying. After that heated argument, he still had the nerve to offer his name to her?
"What would it take for you to understand that marriage is not the solution to this problem?" she asked, not even bothering to accept or decline his proposal, "Actually, it's only your problem. I don't care about people talking about what happened. As long as I know I am innocent, why should I bother myself about what others have to say?"
"It may only be my problem, but suffice it to say, you have brought it upon me," Harry crossed his arms, staring at her like a madman.
Hermione gripped bed's ledge so hard her knuckles turned white. "For the last time, your fall was not my fault. I did not tell your horse to trip over that log on the path. I did not tell you to take your eyes off the road. And I most certainly did not tell you to worry about whether I could handle myself or not."
"You are in no position me to tell me whether my reason for seeing to your safety was necessary," Harry grabbed her hands, "and you know what else I think? Were you the one injured, you would have blamed me for your fall. Yes, I can see now, you'd probably say that I had been too selfish to care for your safety, not even bothering to look back and warn you!"
"I would have not!" cried Hermione in indignation.
"Yes, you would have. Because you have always been a coward to take the blame for the things you're responsible of. It's so much easier for you to blame others because that way, your image would not be ruined," Harry said, scowling at her. "Well, guess what, my lady, it already is ruined. And the only way out is through marriage to me!"
"That's just you, isn't it? Always doing what you want and expecting others to just follow you without saying anything," she tossed her head side to side, "I am not one of your puppets, and I'm not a dog who would come blindly to you on a leash."
"And you think you're better? You think you're this compelling woman who can get away with anything just because you believe you have the right? Think again, Hermione, because all I can see in you is a hard head that is so stubborn it has forgotten to tell the difference between a right and a duty."
"Duty?! It is not my duty to marry just because I was seen in a cottage with a man! Was I to have just stayed out in the cold and died, rather than spare my life under the warm comfort of a roof? If society endeavors for every woman's life to be at peace, then it is only justifiable for me to have a life to begin with," she cried out.
Harry splayed his hands, willing now to level with her. "Then do not do it as a duty to the society, do it for your people. They have been waiting for years to have somebody lead them. Do no tell me that you are an unfeeling woman to keep them hoping much longer."
"And you are the right lord for them?" she scoffed, "Do not flatter yourself."
"I am not so arrogant as to present myself the very best choice, but destiny has chosen me to be your husband, against my will, if it is any consolation."
"It is not," she shook her head, narrowing her eyes, "A consolation would be something to make me feel better, and you do not. I cannot even see why you're still trying to convince me when you yourself look as if you prefer drinking hemlock to marriage."
"So you would rather keep pretending and fooling the people than give them the right you're enjoying yourself?" he asked, pursing his lips, "Or do you plan to choose randomly among them who would best fit the spot beside you? Are you not worried that some lecher would take advantage of your recklessness?"
"Recklessness?" she gasped, "I do not care for any more of your queries, your grace."
"Then answer my question," he stepped towards her again, using his towering height to emphasize his power, "Will you marry me or not?"
"When I shall be concerned enough to marry, I will never even have second thoughts accepting your offer," She waited for a moment, looking up at him with those brown eyes of hers, and then slapping him hard across the face, "Because I would die first before I even allow myself to consider marrying the likes of you! You're worse than a lecher, you're…"
"You outrageous hellion!"
He grabbed her hard, hearing her muffled scream before crushing her mouth to his, pouring his frustrations for the last four days into the kiss that he was taking unwillingly from her. His hand clung to the back of her head, keeping her mouth locked with his even as his lips forced hers to part.
He had no idea what made him kiss her when he had meant to subdue. But she had been so fired up and he frustrated that he could no longer contain the desire that he felt, even as they sparred with words. He wanted to punish her, yet revere her as he would the Lord's Angels.
She was hitting him, rather painfully, if he were to stop and think how hard she was trying to free herself. But he was too busy trying to bend her will to him to care what she was doing. On its own volition, his free arm snaked its way around her waist, imprisoning her fully against him, her arms flattening against his chest.
Following his instincts, his fingers, the one that were behind her head, began to move down, stopping and then caressing the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing against it like a butterfly's wings, making her shiver.
And then, without warning, her lips parted.
Sensing victory, he claimed her with his tongue, darting in her mouth as a warrior would in victory, tentatively touching the contours of it at first, and then boldly circling, savoring her sweet taste, neither aware nor unaware that she was no longer pushing him away.
Burning with desire, he moved forward, pressing his hips to hers, showing her how much he wanted her, and just when she thought she couldn't take more, she caught her knees on the bed. She came tumbling backwards, taking him with her, his arms still wrapped around her, his weight pushing her down onto the mattress.
She tried to press him away, but he was beyond his senses, and so did she become when his lips left hers, only to mark her in more places. She moaned as they grazed the soft spot just behind her ear, his breath fanning her face.
"'Mione," he whispered, pressing soft little kisses on her neck, making his way to the hollow beneath her throat.
His hand was on her waist now, bunching up the dress that she was wearing while his other hand began to play with her wrist, caressing the inner side of it as his lips found hers again.
She jerked in surprise when she felt his bare hand caress her thigh. It was a soft touch, one that she could have not felt had it not been for him having awakened something in her, something sensitive she had not known existed until that very moment, and Hermione began to shiver in unknown delight.
She felt his hand glide upward, melting in anticipation of what was to come next, not knowing what to feel, having no experience or whatsoever with the sensations he was making her feel. Just as she was about to find out exactly what it was that women raged about, he stopped.
Hermione could only blink in surprise and dismay at the suspension. She was breathing hard, and so was he as he took his weight off her, looking at her with a tentative smile on his face, no doubt feeling quite smug at what he caused.
She felt a turmoil of feelings well up inside her as thoughts came to life once more, the warmth that caused their loss, no longer with her.
"You bastard," she murmured, gripping the sheets tightly, and then when she had the nerve to look himself in the eye, she flinched when she saw those green ones of his darken. She instantly had the feeling that it was not what he wanted to hear.
Breathing hard, Harry lifted himself off her, getting off the bed altogether. With one last long look at her, he made his way towards the door. Halfway across the room, he stopped and turned his head, enough for her to only see his profile.
What she saw on his face made her heart leap in remorse.
"When you shall be concerned enough to marry, think of what I made you feel before you choose to die first. Maybe, you will be wise enough to make the right decision."
With that, he completed his exit and slammed the door in his wake, leaving Hermione speechless for the first time since they'd met.
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Behind the door, Harry couldn't quite make himself leave, nor could he get himself to think about the consequences of what his irrational thoughts made him do.
"Son of a bitch," he murmured savagely, leaning back on the heavy wooden doors, exhaustion overtaking him.
What made him pounce on her like that?
He had but all taken her fully, nearly losing himself!
The combination of his frustration over her refusal and his pent-up desire had exploded within him in a split of a second, and during that moment, he had been so blinded to consider anything else but his own craving.
Never had he felt that intense need to make a woman burn before, and not once had he experienced that kind of consuming passion from any of the other women he'd been with.
He still couldn't quite understand how he could hate her and want her at the same time.
This was more than the case of opposites attracting, and he couldn't have agreed more that he and Hermione had more differences than similarities. But this didn't explain why he kept losing his mind every time he came close to her.
But he wished he could say the same with her.
In every moment that they'd spent together, she seemed to feel nothing else for him but loathing, making sure that he knew it without missing a single day.
And to think that right after that kiss he had been about to propose to her properly?
She would have never agreed.
Nor would she have ever forgiven him had he decided to take her innocence, Hell, he wouldn't have forgiven himself for losing the control to do so. She was stubborn and overly prideful, but she didn't deserve to be robbed off something that was rightfully hers to give.
He doubted whether she will ever allow herself to be near him, after what he had done. Bloody hell it was, he no longer trusted himself to be with her. So he could do no more than leave with harsh words to make sure that she didn't come to him for his apologies.
It was better that she feared him enough to avoid him.
But if she had to hate him---more---she had to bear doing it while she was under Sirius' protection. Because no matter what she'd say or do, he would not allow her to leave the mansion until his uncertainties for her safety were put to rest.
Harry had the feeling that between her in danger and her hating him, he preferred Hermione's spite.
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A/N:
Whew! I thought I would never get this one updated tonight. But there you go. Um, I tried to Restricted rating, even though nothing much has happened yet, just to make sure I'm not offending anyone, but my story disappeared after I did that, so I had to return it to PG-13..
I hope you liked the chapter. I had a bit of trouble with the dialogue. I had to make them longer because the chapter was too short. And I hope that I didn't anger any one of you by not making Hermione accept his proposal, it does have a purpose, and I'll make sure you find out in the next chapter. Please, please, please bear with me!
Thank you, again, for reading, and I hope that this time, you review…hahaha!
Until the next chapter then…
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