ME AND THE DEVIL- Dramione

Hermione woke up in the morning to find Crookshanks curled next to her on the pillow. She stroked him a few times, feeling a sense of comfort from his purring, before starting to get ready for her breakfast with Beelzebub.

As she dressed and prepared herself, she couldn't help but think about the conversation she had with Malfoy the previous evening. It had been surprising, to say the least, how open he had been about wanting to make their forced marriage work. She had seen a vulnerability in him that she hadn't expected, and it had stirred something inside her.

Heading to the kitchen, she found Crookshanks following her closely. She gave him a small treat before heading out to Apparate to his penthouse.

When she arrived,Malfo was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. He glanced up as she entered, and she noticed the hint of a smile on his face.

"Good morning, Granger" he greeted her, his tone warmer than she was used to.

"Good morning," Malfoy replied, feeling a little awkward but trying to be polite.

"Can I get you something to drink?"Malfoy offered, gesturing towards the coffee pot.

"Tea, please," she said, settling down at the table.

He nodded and poured her favorite cup of tea, placing it in front of her. "I hope you like it," he said, a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

She took a sip, finding it just how she liked it. "Thank you," she said sincerely, surprising Malfoy with her gratitude.

They ate in silence for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Malfoy spoke up. "I've been thinking about what you said last night," he began cautiously. "About finding a way to make this work."

She looked up at him, curious about what he was going to say. "And?"

He took a deep breath. "I meant what I said, Granger. I want to try. I want us to try."

She studied him for a moment, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. "I do too," she admitted quietly. "I think... maybe we can figure this out."

He nodded, relief flooding his features. "Yeah. One step at a time."

"One step at a time," Granger echoed, feeling a sense of hope for the first time since this whole ordeal had started.

After breakfast, they cleaned up together, moving around each other in a surprisingly comfortable silence. She realized that, despite everything, Malfoy's home felt oddly familiar to her now.

"Would you like to have a house tour?" he asked, motioning down the corridor.

"That would be helpful," she replied, nodding.

The house was two stories high, which she hadn't noticed at first. There were a few rooms that were unfurnished, which surprised her.

Malfoy led her through the main rooms of the house, explaining each one as they went. "This is going to be my bedroom," he said, motioning to the left. "I thought you might not want to sleep with me in my main bedroom, so I've prepared the guest rooms for the time being. Yours is just across from mine. If you need anything, I'll be here for you."

She took in the information, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and awkwardness. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said softly. "That's... thoughtful of you."

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I want you to feel comfortable here."

They continued the tour, and she couldn't help but notice the effort he had put into making the guest rooms inviting. There were fresh linens on the bed, and the rooms were clean and neat, though lacking in personal touches.

Malfoy led her through the hallway, stopping at the entrance of a grand room lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves of books.

"And this is the library," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I wanted to show you last because I know you'd want to spend some time here."

She stepped into the room, her eyes widening in awe at the sight of so many books. She walked along the shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines. "It's beautiful," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

He followed her inside, watching her with a small smile. "I've been collecting books since Hogwarts," he admitted, his tone slightly sheepish. "It's my favorite room in the house."

She turned to look at him, noticing the warmth in his eyes as he spoke about his collection. "I can see why," she said softly. "It's... impressive."

Malfoy nodded, his smile widening a fraction. "Feel free to borrow anything you like. I know you're a bit of a swot."

She chuckled, feeling a bit of tension ease between them.

"If my memory doesn't fail me, you were there most of the time in the Hogwarts library as I was."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, Granger, I did actually read," he protested, though his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

She laughed lightly. "Sure, Malfoy. Whatever you say."

As they accidentally exited the library door at the same time, her back met his front. It was a strange feeling, the closeness of their bodies. Malfoy's breath caught in his throat, his heart racing unexpectedly.

She felt the heat of Malfoy's body behind her, and she turned slightly, looking up at him. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them seemed to crackle in the air.

"Sorry,"she murmured, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

Malfoy swallowed, his gaze flickering down to her lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "No, it's... fine," he replied, his voice low.

They stood there for a moment, both unsure of what to do next. Malfoy's hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out and touch her, but he resisted the urge.

Finally, she cleared her throat, stepping back slightly. "I should... get back to my Sunday routine," she said softly, breaking the spell.

He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. "Right, of course," he said, his voice a little unsteady.

She gave him a small smile, feeling a mix of confusion and something else she couldn't quite place. "Thank you for showing me the library," she said sincerely.

He returned her smile, though it was tinged with something deeper. "Anytime," he replied quietly.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her Sunday routine ment she needs to be at Ginny's place by noon to have brunch with their friends and pray to all the gods that Harry and Ron won't attend.

But not all the prayers have answers and she stepped out of the floo while she saw a few redheads looking at her.

Among them were Ron and Harry, standing with their respective partners, Lavender and Cho.

"Hello, Mione!" Ginny's voice cut through the sudden silence, a hint of concern lacing her usual cheer. "Come on in babe."

She forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. As she entered the room, greetings died down, replaced by stolen glances and uncomfortable shuffles. Ron seemed particularly engrossed in adjusting his tie, while Harry stared intently at a painting on the wall. Taking a seat, she accepted a steaming cup of tea, the warmth doing little to soothe the chill that had settled over her.

"Morning, Everyone," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Someone offered her a steaming cup of tea. She took it mechanically, her gaze flitting around the room but never landing on Ron or Harry. "It's fine," she replied, forcing a smile that felt brittle around the edges. "I'll survive." But a flicker of doubt betrayed her in the way she gripped the cup, her knuckles turning white against the hot ceramic.

Ginny glanced at her sympathetically. "I didn't know they were coming," she whispered quietly.

As the brunch progressed, forced conversation filled the air, punctuated by heavy silences. She kept her gaze studiously on her plate, picking at her food and stealing nervous glances at Ron.

He remained locked in a heated conversation with Lavender, his face flushed and his voice louder than usual. A ripple of unease spread through the room as Ron abruptly excused himself, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. All eyes followed him as he stalked across the room, his jaw clenched and fists clenched at his sides.Her heart pounded in her chest. What did he want? A deep breath did little to calm the storm brewing inside her. This was it. The confrontation she'd been dreading.

Ron's face contorted with rage. "How could you?" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "Marrying Malfoy of all people? Have you lost your mind?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. "Ron, it wasn't my choice. You know that."

"Choice or not, he's still a slimy, arrogant git!" Ron shouted, his hands clenched into fists. "Do you have any idea what he's done? What has his family done?"

"Of course I do!" she snapped back, her own anger rising. "But this is the situation we're in, and I'm trying to make the best of it."

Ron scoffed, shaking his head. "The best of it? By playing house with a Death Eater? He's never going to change, 'Mione. He'll always be that same cowardly bully."

"People can change, Ron," she replied, her voice firm but sad. "And Malfoy is trying. We've all made mistakes, but we have to move forward."

Ron glared at her, his eyes blazing. "I can't believe you're defending him. After everything he put us through. After everything he did to you. Are you getting off while thinking about him fucking you in his Death Eater Mask on?"

Her hand flew across the table with a resounding crack. The sound echoed in the stunned silence as Ron's cheek reddened instantly. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with a dark fury.

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN," she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. A flicker of something akin to shame crossed Ron's face before it was replaced by a deep, pained frustration.

"I hope you know what you're doing, 'Mione," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. He turned away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and walked out, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

She should've put a collar on him ages ago.

Ron's shoulders slumped as he turned away, his anger giving way to a deep, pained frustration. "I hope you know what you're doing, 'Mione. I really do."

With that, he walked out, leaving she standing there, feeling the sting of his words but resolute in her decision to face her situation head-on.

"Come on, Ron," Harry said quietly, giving her a warning look. "Let's not make a scene."

Ron's expression darkened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might argue back. Harry intervened, however, stepping in to defuse the situation.

"Ron, let's not do this here," Harry said firmly, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Let's just try to enjoy brunch."

Ron looked torn, his gaze flickering between her and Harry. Finally, he let out a frustrated breath and nodded reluctantly.

"Fine," Ron muttered, sitting back in his chair. He turned his attention away from her, but the tension lingered in the air.

She sighed inwardly, feeling a mix of emotions. She glanced at Ginny, who gave her an encouraging nod, silently offering support.

The rest of the brunch was a blur of forced conversations and uncomfortable silences. She found herself zoning out as Lavender prattled on about her recent travels to exotic destinations. The carefree chatter felt a world away from her reality. As the meal ended, Ginny pulled her aside, her hand warm and comforting on her arm.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked softly, her brow furrowed with concern.

She forced a smile, though it felt brittle and unconvincing. "I'm fine, Ginny," she replied, her voice tight. "Just... a bit overwhelmed."

Ginny squeezed her friend's arm gently, her eyes filled with empathy. "It's okay not to be okay, Hermione. You've been thrown a curveball, that's for sure." A flicker of defiance sparked in Ginny's eyes. "But Ron... well, Ronald can be a stubborn git sometimes. He'll come around eventually, you'll see. You're stronger than him, babes. And better."

She met Ginny's gaze, a spark of hope igniting in her chest despite the lingering weight of Ron's words. Maybe, just maybe, Ginny was right.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She quickly left Ginny's place, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. Ron's anger and jealousy were uncalled for, especially considering their long-past relationship and the fact that neither of them had chosen these forced marriages. 

A part of her couldn't help but wonder what was truly behind his outburst, he couldn't even make her cum for Merlin's sake.

 Was it just misplaced anger at the situation, or was there a deeper layer of unresolved feelings he couldn't express? The thought sent a pang through her chest, a strange mix of irritation and a forgotten longing. With a sigh, she disapparated, the image of Ron's furious face lingering in her mind.

As she approached her cottage, she noticed a familiar owl waiting in the window. With a sigh, she opened the window to let the owl in. It perched gracefully on the windowsill, extending her leg to present the letter it carried. The envelope was silver, adorned with the Malfoy crest.

She took the letter with a sense of trepidation, wondering what Malfoy could possibly have to say now. She unfolded the parchment and began to read:

Dear Granger,

I would like to extend another invitation for you to join me for dinner tomorrow evening.

Ps: How do you get rid of the Weslette? She keeps asking me questions about Blaise and I do not want to entertain her.

Yours,

DLM

She sighed, setting the letter down. The thought of another evening with Malfoy was exhausting, but she knew they needed to sort out the details of their impending marriage. She couldn't ignore the situation forever.

After a moment of contemplation, she picked up a quill and scribbled a response:

Malfoy,

I will attend dinner tomorrow evening. Let's meet at 7 PM .

ps: Ferrets and Weasels are part of the Mustelidae family, so you should be nicer to your relatives.

Regards,

Hermione Jean Granger

She attached the note to Aquaila's leg and watched as it took off into the evening sky. With a heavy heart, she prepared herself for another difficult conversation, hoping that they could find some common ground and navigate this forced marriage with as much grace as possible.

The next evening, she finished her work and returned to her cottage to prepare for dinner with Beelzebub. Despite her apprehension, there was a part of her, an inexplicable force, that always pulled her toward him. It was as if some old, dark spirit whispered in her ear, coaxing her to accept his invitations despite her better judgment.

She chose a simple, elegant dress, one that made her feel confident yet comfortable. As she stood in front of the mirror, she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the evening ahead.

By the time she arrived at his penthouse, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city. She stepped out of the Floo network into Malfoy's penthouse, dusting herself off as she arrived. Almost immediately, he was there, taking her coat with practiced ease. She couldn't help but notice how impeccably dressed he was, his tailored suit emphasizing his aristocratic bearing.

"Good evening, Granger," he greeted her, his voice smooth and composed.

"Good evening, Malfoy," she replied, her gaze drifting to the bouquet of flowers he held. It was an unusual mix—rosemary, pansies, fennel, rue, columbines, and daisies. Each flower had its own symbolic meaning, and she wondered if Malfoy had chosen them deliberately or if it was just a coincidence.

"These are for you," he said, holding out the bouquet like a schoolboy. The gesture was unexpectedly sweet, catching her off guard.

"Thank you, Malfoy," she said, taking the flowers and inhaling their fragrance. She could feel the tension ease just a little. "They're lovely."

"I thought you might appreciate them," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

He led her to the dining room, where the table was set with fine china and crystal glasses. Candles flickered softly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room.

She placed the flowers in a vase he had ready, then took her seat at the table.

As they began their meal, the conversation was initially stilted, but gradually, they found a rhythm.

" I noticed that you have a few Shakespeare in your library collection. Did you read them frequently?- she asked abruptly.

He looked up from his wine glass, a slight smile touching his lips. "Yes, I have. My mother introduced me to Shakespeare when I was younger. She believed that understanding Muggle literature would help me become more well-rounded."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? I never imagined Narcissa Malfoy as a fan of Shakespeare."

Malfoy chuckled softly. "She's full of surprises. Her favorite is 'Macbeth.'

"That's interesting," she replied, her curiosity piqued. "And what's your favorite?"

He paused, considering. "I'd have to say 'The Winter's Tale.' There's something about the themes of redemption and forgiveness that resonates with me. Plus, the line 'exit, pursued by a bear' is unforgettable."

She smiled, a genuine one this time. "That is a memorable line. And the play does have a beautiful ending."

"Yes, it does and a beautiful named female character as well," he agreed, his gaze softening. "It gives hope that no matter how dire things seem, there's always a chance for a better ending."

Flirting with her own name. Git. Climable, fit git.

She looked at Malfoy, seeing him in a new light, while blushing. "I never thought I'd hear you talk about hope and redemption, Malfoy."

He shrugged slightly, a wry smile on his lips. "People can change, Granger. Maybe this forced marriage is an opportunity for both of us to find some redemption."

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "But it's going to take a lot more than just talking about Shakespeare to make this work."

"I know," he replied earnestly. "And I'm willing to put in the effort. I hope you are too."

She nodded. "I am. But actions speak louder than words, Malfoy. We'll see how things go."

He looked determined. "I understand. Let's take it one step at a time."

Suddenly Malfoy handed her a small piece of parchment, his expression serious. "I would like to give you a list, and please read it."

She raised an eyebrow as she took the parchment. "Malfoy, this is quite a short list," she noted, unfolding it.

"This is a list of things you are not willing to talk about," Malfoy explained.

The list read:

1.Money

2.Children in the future

3.Intimate life

She read the list and looked up at Malfoy, her expression softening just a bit. "I appreciate you acknowledging these topics, but we can't avoid them forever."

He nodded, his gaze steady. "I know, but I think we need to build some trust first. These are sensitive subjects, and I'd rather approach them when we're both ready."

She took a deep breath. "Fair enough. But we need to establish some boundaries and understand each other's expectations. We can't just ignore these topics indefinitely."

"I agree," Malfoy said, his voice calm. "Let's focus on building a foundation first. Once we have that, we can tackle the more difficult subjects."

She folded the parchment and slipped it into her bag. 

"Malfoy, we will be the first sacrifice to the marriage law," she began, her tone steady but her eyes reflecting a deep concern. "We need to mentally prepare for Wednesday. I insist that it is just the two of us there together. After we perform the soul bonding, we can visit anyone that you like."

He nodded, taking in her words with a seriousness that matched her own. "I understand, Granger. It makes sense to keep the ceremony private. This is already overwhelming without a crowd watching."

"Exactly," she replied, relieved that he agreed. "The fewer people involved, the better. We need to focus on ourselves and what this means for us."

"I'll make the necessary arrangements," Malfoy assured her. "No one else will be there. And take all the time you need to prepare your things. I want you to feel comfortable with this transition, as much as possible."

She said her goodbyes, taking the bouquet of flowers Malfoy had given her. As she stepped into the Floo and returned home, she couldn't help but think about the meaning behind the assortment of flowers.