Hermione is introduced to the library at Malfoy Manor and shares her plans with Draco, who makes an apology and a formal request of the Dark Lord.

Dinner was a quiet affair, though not wholly unpleasant. The food was lovely, and like everything else in Malfoy Manor, the presentation was flawless. Lucius was an engaging conversationalist and was knowledgeable on a wide array of topics. Draco sat in his seat, ate quietly and tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, much to Hermione’s amusement. Narcissa was polite, regal and held herself with such polished refinement, it made Hermione wish for a moment that she had known whom her biological mother was.

She had a sinking feeling that particular topic of conversation would not be one her Father, would be sharing with her anytime soon.

Once dinner was over, Narcissa and Draco showed Hermione to the Malfoy family library, while Lucius and her Father had some business to discuss in private.

Draco walked over and offered her his arm, guiding her out of the dining area and towards the library. He was unusually quiet and seemed rather tense, so she just ignored him. If he had something to say to her, she’d no doubt—she’d hear about it eventually. When they’d reached the far west end on the second floor, there stood two large double doors that had the Malfoy family crest imbedded within the rich oak.

Narcissa waved her wand and the doors opened immediately, sconces lit up along the walls and the fireplace came to life instantly.

Hermione gasped when she was completely inside the room. It was three stories tall and books lined every inch of available space. There was a glass-domed ceiling that let in natural light and several bay windows along the far wall where one could spend a quiet afternoon reading for hours. It was idyllic and she couldn’t help the genuine smile that broke free, absently letting go of Draco’s arm as she wandered around the room, looking enviously at all the magical tomes.

Turning around suddenly, she beamed at Narcissa and Draco. “Oh my, this is lovely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many books. This library is larger than the one at Hogwarts!”

Draco rolled his eyes, but felt himself smiling despite himself. “Leave it to you, Granger— to be excited about books. Most women would be bored at the prospect of spending their days buried in a library, but not you.”

Narcissa smiled inwardly at her son, who had been out of sorts the entire evening. “Perhaps you might show Miss Granger around the library, Draco? I’m going to check on her accommodations.”

Draco nodded, and Hermione smiled shyly at the older witch. “Thank you, Lady Malfoy for having me here in your home. It’s truly amazing, and I’m honored to be here. And please...call me Hermione.”

Narcissa couldn’t help but he impressed by the refined manners of the young witch, she truly was taken with her.

“Not at all, Hermione. Please call me Narcissa, or Cissy. We are very honored to have you here, and I’m sure Draco will be on his best behavior, keeping you company until I return.”

Giving her son a pointed look, the beautiful witch flowed gracefully from the room, leaving the two of them alone.

Once Narcissa was gone, Draco came over and grabbed Hermione, kissing her soundly. “You vicious witch—you enjoyed my discomfort didn’t you?”

Hermione giggled, kissing Draco back gently before moving over towards the far end of the library. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smirked, “Turnabout is fair play. You deserved to feel uncomfortable after what you’ve put me through. Just because I’ve decided to look past it, doesn’t mean my Father will. I believe he’s not a man who would take kindly to his daughter being mistreated.”

Draco followed her over to a secluded corner, where he grabbed her hand and sat down on a plush chair with Hermione firmly in his lap. “You’re right, I deserve to be punished for being a right prat for all those years. I’d prefer however, if you did the punishing. I think we’d both enjoy it more.”

Hermione smacked Draco’s chest, “You’re simply incorrigible, Malfoy.”

She then sighed and pushed herself off Draco’s lap, noticing his look of confusion and hurt, but she just shook her head. Grabbing his hand she moved them over to a small couch, so they could sit next to one another.

“Draco, we need to discuss a few things.” He nodded, caressing her hand gently.

“Whatever you need to tell me, I can handle it.”

Sighing deeply, “My Father and I, had a discussion before he brought me here. One of the things he made clear to me was that I am to defer to him as my Paterfamilias.” Draco’s eyes widened in understanding. “I know you’re aware of what that means. Even if he decides that he can’t acknowledge me openly at this time, he still expects me to adhere to all the formal Pureblood traditions...which means that...” she shrugged her shoulders and sighed, not sure how to finish her thought.

Draco stared at her with such burning intensity that it made her shiver.

“It means, that I need to formally make my intentions clear where you’re concerned. I have no problem doing that, the only question I have is—would you be open to accepting a formal courtship from me?”

“Malfoy...Draco...” Hermione sighed shakily, “I don’t have an answer for that. How am I supposed to know what to do? I have a plan, which I need to discuss with my Father. A plan that would require for my true identity to remain hidden, at least for a while longer.”

At this suggestion, Draco literally growled out in anger, shaking his head in disagreement—but Hermione just grabbed his hands and squeezed tightly.

“You promised me that you would support whatever I needed to do, or was that just a bunch of empty words?”

Draco’s nostrils flared and he stared at Hermione mutinously, “No, it wasn’t just empty words. If you’re really adamant in keeping your identity a secret, tell me why. Help me understand what you’re planning, maybe I can help you.”

Looking uncertain, Hermione sighed in resignation. “You’re certain about this, that you want to help me?” Draco nodded his head emphatically. “You realize that this is going to be difficult. I may have to do things you don’t like, and I may not be able to give you a good reason why, at the time. So if you can’t handle uncertainty, you need to walk away. I know we’ve had this conversation before, but if you agree to do this, and you walk away later? I swear to you, Draco Lucius Malfoy that when I’m done with you, you’ll beg for death.”

Draco stared into the amber eyes of his little witch and felt the magic swirl around them from the vow she spoke. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he agreed to do this, there was no walking away. Watching Hermione’s face and body language, it was as if she was bracing for another disappointment. Draco smiled at her reassuringly, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I am yours, Hermione. I’ve told you that before, and I will tell you that everyday if you let me. You can trust me to help you however you need me to.”

Amber eyes stared into grey ones as they considered each other.

“Fine, Draco. I’ll tell you what I have in mind. But you need to keep it quiet until I have a chance to discuss it with my Father.”

“I can do that.”

The two of them sat in the back corner of the library while Hermione shared with Draco her plan to bring down Dumbledore. As he listened to her, Draco was astonished at how meticulous and well-thought out her plan was. She had thought of every possible contingency and was quite diabolically methodical in her approach. When she finished and gazed at him questioningly—Draco dropped down on his knees in front of his witch and shook his head with wonderment and awe.

Hermione was now looking at him with confusion tinged with amusement, as he kissed her knuckles on both hands.

“You, my love, are truly the Brightest Witch of the Age. I find myself in complete awe of your cunning and intellect. If your Father doesn’t go agree to go along with this plan, than he’s a fool.”

Hermione giggled, squeezing his hands in return when a deep voice stated, “Whom may I ask, is a fool?”

Hermione’s head whipped up in shock, while Draco turned around so quickly he fell on his arse, which caused Hermione to giggle louder and her Father to smirk in amusement.

“Perhaps you both would like to share with me why you’re in a dark corner of the library, alone and unchaperoned?”

Draco recovered quickly, stood up and bowed formally to his Lord. “My Lord, I didn’t mean to offend you nor Hermione. My Mother and I thought Hermione would appreciate our family library, as she has an avid fondness for books. My Mother just recently left to see to Hermione’s accommodations, and we came back here to talk.”

Voldemort raised his eyebrow at the young wizard in something akin to amused disbelief.

“Young, Mr. Malfoy? Let me be clear that whilst I appreciate your family’s willingness to have my daughter stay here? I do not appreciate having her in any kind of position that would seem compromising in any way.”

Draco bowed his head down shame-faced, while Hermione watched him closely. When he glanced over to catch her eye, she silently nodded at him which caused him to stand formally, hands behind his back to face the Dark Lord.

“My Lord, I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss this with my Father as of yet, but I believe he knows my intentions are honorable where Hermione is concerned. I understand you have yet to sit down and discuss with her what steps will need to be taken in acknowledging her as your Heir, but I wish it to be known that I would be most honored if you would allow me to formally court your daughter. I’m willing to abide by any conditions that you may set forth, but I cannot stand by and not voice my sentiments where she is concerned.”

The Dark Lord raised his face to the ceiling and sighed.

He’d just found his daughter, his heir—and already there were wizards lining up trying to take her away from him. While he knew that the Malfoy heir was of good breeding and sufficient wealth, it did little to placate him from wanting to Crucio the boy where he stood. He looked over at his daughter, who was watching the young wizard with amusement, disbelief and something he’d rather not define. When he shifted his gaze over and locked it onto the young wizard? He was surprised and slightly impressed that the boy didn’t flinch away nor give any outward sign he was terrified.

“So, I’m to understand that your Paterfamilias has no idea you wish to formally court my Daughter? Do you seek to offend me, young Draco? Do you have no sense of self-preservation at all?”

Draco smirked, which caused the Dark Lord to raise an eyebrow in response. “I don’t seem to have any where your daughter is concerned,” at this confession Draco’s face became completely serious, “I do believe however, that you should know the truth before you decide, my Lord. I admit fully and take complete responsibility for causing Hermione’s pain, by being the main proponent of her ostracization in Slytherin House. I have nothing to defend myself with, other than I didn’t know she was your heir and believed her to be a Muggle-born witch. I realized over Easter our third year, that I had done her a great injustice, and immediately made to rectify it. This was well before I suspected she was your heir. If you wish to punish me on her behalf, I will accept any punishment you see fit, but I only humbly ask that it doesn’t exclude me from being in her life.”

The Dark Lord watched the young wizard give his impassioned speech where his daughter was concerned. He had to admit he felt a bit of admiration for the young man prostrating himself at his feet and accepting his responsibility in hurting his daughter, who oddly seemed to be staring at the Malfoy heir in a most pleased way.

“I’m aware of what has transpired over the course of these past few years, young Malfoy. I was most displeased when I found out that my daughter, rightful heir to Slytherin House was treated thusly. I commend you for your courage in coming to me and asking for permission to court my daughter. I’m afraid I’m unable to grant your request at this time, however.” Smirking at the crestfallen look on the young wizard’s face, Voldemort was surprised to see disappointment in his own daughter’s face, although she was quick to mask it. “I will speak with your father about this, Draco. You both are too young to court formally, and you will still need to prove your worth to me. But I assure you both, that my daughter will not be entering into any formal arrangement until she becomes of age. I suggest you use this time to get to know each other more informally. If I find out that Hermione’s virtue has been compromised in any way, there will be no place that can hide you from me. Are we clear?”

Considering both of them, but concentrating his gaze on his daughter, he knew she understood what was being required of her. “I understand, Father, and I will abide by your wishes.”

Draco bowed his head formally, not liking the situation but knowing he had no other options at this point, nodded “Yes, my Lord.”

“Very well. Then perhaps you might go and find your mother, Draco, as I need to speak with my Daughter alone for a few moments.”

Draco bowed his head again, and giving one last look of longing in Hermione’s direction, before he walked out of the library in search of his mother. Voldemort smirked at his daughter, who seemed to be a bit put out. “You don’t agree with my decision, Daughter?”

“No, it’s not that, Father. I tried to tell Draco that we’re just too young to court formally. But I believe he is afraid of another wizard coming in and usurping what he sees as his.”

“And are you his, Hermione?” The Dark Lord inquired, with a bit of menace in his deep voice.

“That is a difficult question to answer, Father. I’m certainly attracted to Draco, and I believe he does care for me. He’s told me he’s in love with me. I have no basis to know whether or not what I feel is what some would call ‘love.’ I’ve come to see such things as weakness, but I logically understand that it’s probably due to what I’ve suffered in regards to my own experiences. I don’t consider myself weak...but I suppose, it would be nice to have companionship of some kind?” Hermione shook her head and laughed, “Perhaps I’m not the best person to ask about such things.”

The Dark Lord shook his at his daughter, who had a firm grasp on her emotions and seemed to be far more logical that emotional.

“Then perhaps we should focus on more important matters. Tell me, Hermione? How did you come to discover that Harry Potter was a Horcrux? And what else have you sussed out in that sharp mind of yours?”