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Father Knows Best
The first anyone knew that anything was wrong was when Draco Malfoy, reformed Death Eater and shrewd businessman, stormed across the ballroom, up to Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world and top ranking Ministry Auror, and punched him in the face.
The shock waves of this action rippled across the hall: the band stopped playing, people stopped dancing and talking and everyone turned to look as the Boy Who Lived (twice) fell to the floor.
"What the hell, Malfoy?" Harry spluttered, propping himself up and reaching gingerly for his face.
Harry was attended by his long-time girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, lead chaser for the Hollyhead Harpies, who was worriedly checking his face for fragments of his now broken glasses.
Draco stood over them both fuming, hands fisted at his sides, as Harry glared up at him.
"You told her!" Draco shouted; a statement not a question.
"Malfoy, what are you talking…" Ginny began, not following the exchange, although Harry knew exactly what was happening.
"I've been standing by the door for three hours!" Draco snarled, "If you didn't tell her, where is she?"
Harry stood up, brushing aside Ginny's help as he readied himself to meet Draco's anger, when Ronald Weasley, War Hero and fellow Auror, came charging across the room from the buffet.
He grabbed Draco by the shirt collar, the two men roughly even in height, otherwise Ron would have had him off the floor. Draco broke the hold by punching Ron in the side of the head and the brawl continued from there.
It took twenty minutes to finally separate the three young men and they were ushered firmly through the floo to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies.
It was there that they ran into the second snag of the night.
The healer in charge of the emergency department that night was a formidable woman. As the mother of four grown boys, she took a dim view to physical fighting, and a firmer stance on the magical healing of injuries caused by physical fighting.
"You're a healer! How can you refuse treatment?" Draco yelled, his left arm hanging awkwardly at his side, while Ron glared at the woman venomously, cradling his own arm. Harry sulked behind them in a wheelchair, while the ashen Ginny sat by him.
"This is St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies." The healer replied, "Just what, exactly, is so magical about your injuries?"
Draco joined Ron in silently glaring at the woman while Harry winced as his leg twitched.
"If you had used your wands, maybe I could help you." She continued, entirely unsympathetic to their pain.
"You mean you'd prefer it if we cursed each other?" Ron asked incredulously.
"No, Ron. She means if a spell had backfired and placed you in this situation, you would be getting healed." Ginny snapped, feeling under entirely too much stress to handle all three of them by herself.
"That's right." The healer confirmed, "Now, if you want to fight each other like muggles, you can go and be healed like muggles." And with that, she pulled out a handful of buttons and tossed them at the boys, who disappeared with a pop.
The phone was ringing.
Hermione scrambled out of bed and down the stairs into the kitchen to answer it, the novelty of using the phone again too great a temptation to remain in bed, despite the hour. She was in such a hurry that she fumbled with it and the receiver fell to the floor. Panicking, she snatched it up.
"Hello? Hello?"
"Hermione? Is that you?"
"Ginny?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"Oh, thank goodness!" Ginny sighed, the relief evident in her voice, "What was that noise?"
"I dropped the phone." Hermione replied apologetically.
"Oh."
Hermione could hear another voice in the background making an announcement, "Where are you?"
"The Royal Liverpool University Hospital." Ginny answered, sounding for all the world like she was reading it from a cue card.
"Oh." Hermione seated herself on the kitchen counter, "Why are you there?"
"Hermione, it was awful!" Ginny wailed, "They started out just punching but then Ron started kicking and now Harry's got a broken leg and broken ribs and Ron looks like a walking bruise and…"
Ginny seemed close to hyperventilating, and as she gasped for air, Hermione took the opportunity to ask what had happened, warning the younger woman to answer slowly and remember to breathe.
"We were at the party and everything was nice and then Malfoy…"
"Malfoy?" Hermione squeaked, dropping the packet of biscuits she'd been trying to open. Ginny continued over the top of her.
"… came up and punched Harry in the face and now he has a black eye and there's bruises all over his face and his chest and his arms and the Healer wouldn't heal them so now we're at a" Ginny paused, then her voice dropped to a whisper, "a muggle hospital."
Hermione could just imagine Ginny looking around furtively in the hopes that no one had heard what she'd said. She was vaguely impressed that she'd been able to use the telephone to begin with, though she was sure that mentioning that fact was not what Ginny wanted to hear right now.
However, Hermione didn't see any reason to rush off to help the boys if they'd simply been in a fist fight with each other.
"Well," She began, opening a packet of chocolate that she'd hidden yesterday when she'd returned to her parents' house temporarily, "Liverpool has the best emergency room in the country. I'm sure they'll be fine."
"Hermione!"
"What?"
"Didn't you hear me? The boys got in a huge fight and the healer wouldn't heal them!"
"Serves them right." Hermione stated, before popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth, and enjoying the guilty pleasure it gave her.
"But this is all because you didn't come to the party!" Ginny whined.
"Because I… Hold that thought." Hermione paused, hearing the sound of someone approaching. She looked guiltily at the chocolate in her hand and dove under the table.
"Hermione?"
She cringed at the sound of her father's voice, covering the phone because she could just make out Ginny's voice asking what was happening. The cord on the phone pulled taut and she knew she'd been found.
"Hermione, sweetie, why are you under the table?" Her father asked, his voice roughened by sleep and confusion.
"I was looking for something." She muttered.
His face appeared below the table ledge, his hand still holding the phone cord, "While on the phone? At this hour?"
He looked down at her hand and sighed, "Hermione, is that chocolate?"
Hermione glanced down at her hand, then back to her father, who sighed again in exasperation.
"Sweetheart, you know that's not good for your teeth."
"But it's good for the rest of me! Professor Lupin said so!" Hermione protested, growing increasingly embarrassed at being caught out, and over the fact that Ginny was eavesdropping on the entire conversation.
Her father held out his hand and helped her to her feet. He confiscated the chocolate, collected the packet of biscuits from the floor before turning to admonish her once more.
"Isn't it a bit late to be talking on the phone?"
"It's an emergency."
"If it was, you wouldn't still be here." Her father replied, his look suggesting that she'd better say her goodbyes and hang up before he did it for her.
Feeling like a little girl again, and not liking it one bit, Hermione held the receiver up to say good bye to Ginny only to have a harsh voice call down the phone.
"Hermione, this isn't over."
Hermione squealed and dropped the phone again.
In the treatment room…
"I'm sorry." Harry said, staring at the ceiling.
"I don't accept your apology, Potter." Draco replied haughtily, turning away from them and moving to cross his arms only to hiss in pain as the movement tore at his dislocated shoulder.
Ron sniggered.
"Shut up, Weasley!"
There they were, three young wizards, the premier members of the post-war society, sitting (or in Harry's case, lying) on thin hospital cots, shirtless, (and pantless for Harry) bruised, broken in parts and in pain.
"Look, maybe I did let it slip, but…"
"So you admit it, Potter!" Draco snarled, "This is all your fault!"
"Now hang on!" Ron interjected, "You threw the first punch. You started it."
"It's Potter's fault I was angry enough…"
"Wait just a minute! Whose fault is it that you're angry?" Harry asked with a grin. "Who didn't turn up?"
Draco paused, glaring at both of them, before turning away again and cursing.
Ron sniggered again.
"Shut up, Weasley!"
"Where do you think she is, Harry?" Ron asked, almost cheerfully.
"Not at her apartment. I checked there earlier."
"What?" Draco turned, his curiosity piqued, "Then where is she?"
"I'd say she's probably hiding out somewhere and eating chocolate." Ron added with a chuckle.
"Ooh, I hope she's not at her parents' house then."
Their chortling continued until a doctor walked in to examine the three of them, with a swarm of students crowding the room behind him. Harry's hands tightened on his blanket; the material was the only protection for his modesty. Ron blushed bashfully as one of the female students stepped closer to examine the break in his arm. Draco found himself sneering at them, in such a way he was tempting the more hot-headed of the doctors to hit him, just to make that look vanish.
As their attention turned to him, he pulled back in affront. Then without another word, he pulled his jacket around him and left the room, ignoring the protests of the doctor and the pain of his injuries.
Out in the corridor, he caught sight of Ginny, using the muggle object he recognized as a communication device. He stalked up to her, realising that it must be Hermione she was talking to. Catching her unawares, he stole the device from her hand and called his threat down the line before hanging up.
"Malfoy, that was my telephone call!" Ginny spat, whirling round on him.
"Weaselette," Draco spoke down to her, "In case you needed reminding, Potter is currently in his underwear in a room full of curious females."
As he expected, Ginny had paled and raced back down the hallway to protect her boyfriend's virtue.
He smirked smugly, despite the swollen lip, and left the hospital so he could apparate home.
His parents were waiting up for him, and he knew from the look on their faces that he was in trouble.
"Draco, what possessed you?" His mother asked as he entered the sitting room. His father sat opposite the door, coolly regarding his offspring.
Draco ignored the question, wincing instead, as his shoulder was jostled from the inelegant way he flopped onto a sofa.
"You're still injured."
"Yes, Mother, I'm still injured." He snapped caustically, as if the black eye and fat lip were not evidence enough, his jacket fell open revealing the beginnings of bruises and abrasions spreading across his torso. "The healer at St Mungo's refused to heal us."
Narcissa looked down at Lucius in question and he shook his head, hinting at some knowledge he'd concealed.
"She sent us to a muggle hospital!" Draco spat, "I'm sure that goes against some sort of vow or law."
"Why didn't you stay?" Narcissa questioned, carefully restraining herself from rushing to his side. Her maternal instincts were begging her to soothe his pains.
Draco snorted, unfazed by his mother's internal struggle. He dropped his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. "As if I should heal like a muggle."
Narcissa glanced down at Lucius, who had yet to move.
"Where did they send you?" He asked calmly.
"Liverpool." Draco muttered, not fully registering the question. Once he had, he jerked upright, wincing from pain of the movement. "You knew?"
"Knew what, Draco?" His father replied, his tone quiet and low.
Draco's eyes narrowed, "Why haven't you called a healer?"
"Since you are here, you obviously do not need one." Lucius answered with an unconcerned air.
"Forgive me, Father. I must have misheard you, on account of my many injuries!"
"You were sent to a place of healing." Lucius stated, retaining his unfazed demeanour, "I imagine that they would not have let you leave if you were still injured. And no son of mine would be so vain and stupid as to leave before first being treated."
Draco's face flushed a furious red as he glared at his father. He opened his mouth to retort but could think of no answer to give. He clenched his teeth in frustration.
"If you maintain that you are still injured," Lucius continued with a malicious smile, "Then I suggest you return to the hospital."
Draco fumed silently, glancing briefly to his mother for help. Her mouth was set in a firm line and he knew he would find no ally in her. His shoulders slumped as he gave in to despair.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Much of our society has changed in recent years, Draco." His mother spoke softly, "A large part of the motivation for these changes has been to prevent another war in the future. The Dark Lord would not have gained so much power or so many supporters if there had not been a total segregation of the magical and muggle worlds."
"Politics aside, the muggles cannot enter our world as freely as we can enter theirs. And the stupidity you engaged in this evening lies entirely within the muggle scope of things." Lucius said, his disappointment evident in his tone.
"So, basically…"
"Muggle behaviour and crimes will incur muggle treatment and punishments."
Draco stared at the floor, the weight of parental displeasure too much to bear with his current condition.
"There's no hope of a magical healing tonight, is there?"
"This is for your own good, Draco." Narcissa said quietly, shifting her feet as the need to comfort him almost became too much for her.
Draco snapped, "I'm sure that will bring me great comfort, Mother, as I try to sleep tonight with my shoulder out!"
"We are not taking pleasure in your pain, Draco." She tried again.
"I'm sure." Draco muttered darkly.
"Lose the attitude, boy!" Lucius snarled, standing from his chair. "You had the opportunity to be healed. You passed!"
"Because I thought you would help me!" Draco retorted, also rising to his feet.
"Oh, I'll help you." His father growled, taking him by his left arm and ignoring Draco's yelp of pain.
"Lucius." Narcissa said warningly.
"Relax, my dear. Draco has an appointment elsewhere this evening." Lucius replied before turning on his son and continuing coldly, "I will make sure he attends."
Harry leaned back, observing as the finishing touches were put on the cast on his leg. Ron's cast was finished and he and Ginny were watching the process in fascination. They were distracted, however, when the door opened and a very pale Draco Malfoy was helped back into the room.
He was returned to his previous cot, where he sat dejectedly waiting while his father entered, deep in conversation with the doctor.
"Ah, tough love." The doctor smiled, "Well, I can appreciate the sentiment, ah, Lord Malfoy, was it? However, I cannot, legally, discharge your son without seeing to all of his injuries."
Lucius looked over at his son, his mask of disinterest causing Draco to wilt under his displeasure. "Very well then."
The doctor nodded, turning to Draco and examining his shoulder. Draco flinched, biting back any comments that might have increased Lucius' ire. The doctor checked each of his injuries, causing a few more flinches and a slight whimper.
Realising that he had a tense audience, the doctor pulled a curtain around the bed. From their silhouettes, the other three could see them arranging Draco and then heard the tight pop of Draco's shoulder being re-located. They blanched as Draco screamed in pain.
After a dose of painkillers, the doctor moved on to his broken ribs.
Draco was leaning heavily on his father as they left the hospital half an hour later. Harry hobbled out behind them on his crutches, Ron following still plucking at his sling. Ginny brought up the rear carrying their assorted belongings. Of the three invalids, Draco seemed to have come out worst off.
Hermione woke late the next morning, trudging downstairs around ten o'clock with little idea what the day would bring. Her father caught sight of her through a doorway and moved to intercept her.
"Hermione."
"Dad! Good morning." She answered, hiding her nervousness with exuberance.
"Good morning, sweetheart." He replied, before producing a small red envelope. "This arrived for you."
Hermione took an involuntary step backwards, her eyes widening at the sight of it.
"It's humming." Her father stated.
"Uh, yes. Um, here. You'd better give it to me, Dad."
He handed it over and Hermione dashed out of the room with it. She didn't make it far.
"HERMIONE GRANGER, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, IGNORING THAT INVITE?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA THE TROUBLE YOU CAUSED WITH YOUR ABSENCE? A SCANDAL NOW HANGS OVER THE MINISTRY, THE BENEFIT WAS RUINED AND RON IS REFUSING MAGICAL TREATMENT FOR HIS ARM! IT'S GOING TO TAKE MONTHS FOR THAT BREAK TO HEAL! IF YOU DON'T ARRIVE HERE BY NOON TODAY, SO HELP ME I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN! AND IT WILL NOT BE PRETTY!"
Hermione stood in shock as the howler dissolved into ribbons.
"Well, she sounded insistent."
Hermione wasted no time readying herself and apparated to the Burrow with a sinking feeling in her stomach. As much as she was not looking forward to this meeting, when one received a howler from Molly Weasley, one made oneself available.
She flinched at the yelling coming from the house, creeping closer quietly.
"Mum! Leave off!"
"Come, Molly. It won't hurt him to leave it on."
"Arthur, if you won't help me, move out of the way!"
Hermione froze, not at all sure that she wanted to move any closer, let alone enter the house.
"Ronald, hold still!"
"Mum! I said I like it!"
"Ronald Billius Weasley, hold still or so help me…"
Molly's voice stopped suddenly and Hermione ducked behind the hedge.
"Hiya, Hermione."
Hermione screamed, jumping into the air as George and Fred grinned at each other.
"Answering a summons?" Fred asked.
"Or come to gloat over little Ronnikins and his broken arm?"
Hermione flinched, "Is it bad?"
"No." The twins replied with matching grins as they each took one of her arms and hoisted her up.
"But Mum can't bear to think of her wittle baby unable to use his arm for a few months." Fred said, as he and his brother all but carried her inside the house.
"And Ron likes the novelty of it, so he won't let her touch it." George laughed.
Hermione grimaced, not looking forward to facing Molly Weasley, but she had no choice. The twins pushed her through the doorway and she fell forward against the dining table.
"Miss Granger." Molly started, whirling round to face her, a furious glint in her eye.
"Hello." Hermione greeted her, waving weakly.
"When one receives an invitation to a prestigious event, one does not decline attending for so petty a reason as a boy." Molly growled through gritted teeth, seemingly channelling the worst of societal snobs, "Particularly if said boy has a remarkably short temper."
"I am so sorry…" Hermione began, backing away from her only to hit the kitchen door. She could hear the twins sniggering on the other side and knew their weight was preventing her escape.
"Have you seen Ron's arm?" Molly asked sharply, "Or Harry's leg?"
Just then, Ron came around the corner, with his sling hanging lopsidedly from his neck and the cast covered in coloured splotches.
"Hermione! Have you seen this? Isn't it cool?"
Hermione flinched under the fury of Molly's glare as Ron prattled on about his cast and the process he went through for it.
"And you should see Harry's leg!"
"Is he here?" She asked weakly, edging around the table away from Molly.
"No, he's at Godric's Hollow."
"Oh, I should probably go see him." She said, inching towards the floo. "I'll ah, just be going then."
Moving quickly, she grabbed a handful of floo powder and disappeared into the fireplace before Molly could make it around the table.
"I'm really sorry, Harry." Hermione said for the fiftieth time, staring at her hands. She couldn't look at him anymore, not with the bruising on his face from Draco's fist.
Harry sat watching her with a blank look on his face. Inside he was revelling in her discomfort. It wasn't often that Hermione was wrong and he always thought it was good to give her a dose of humility.
And by all that was magical, the itch on his leg was killing him.
"I didn't think he'd react like that." She murmured.
Harry's face didn't change. Ginny came in and sat next to him, struggling to match Harry's composure.
Finally Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Muttering one last apology, she dashed from the room. When they heard the front door slam, they fell against each other laughing.
"Sweetie, is everything alright?"
Hermione looked up as her father entered her room. She'd been sitting on her bed for the last hour, staring at the floor as she thought about the situation she was in.
"Hermione?"
"I'm so confused." She whispered.
"What happened?"
She looked like she was about to cry, "It's all my fault."
"There now, honey." He said as he sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "Start at the beginning and explain it for your old dad. Is this about the party last night?"
She nodded, "Harry said he'd be waiting for me."
"Harry?"
"No! Draco!"
"Why would he be waiting for you?"
"He wanted to ask me something."
"What sort of something?" Her father asked, sensing he knew the answer to that question.
Hermione mumbled, "Of a personal nature."
"Ah." Her father shifted uncomfortably. "I think we'll need your mother for this conversation."
Something unique and unexperienced was happening at the Burrow.
It was an oddity to be sure. Even George and Fred were astounded. Ron had walked into the room an hour ago and was still standing in the doorway.
Molly was indulging her vindictive side, not something she was prone to. On this occasion she felt justified. If only Arthur would co-operate.
Afterall, it wasn't everyday Lucius Malfoy stopped by the Burrow for help.
And by Merlin, she would love a larger kitchen.
"I can assure you, I simply wish to share a conversation with Miss Granger." Lucius stated, reclining in the atrocious pink armchair like it was a luxurious (and tasteful) throne.
"I understand that, Lucius." Arthur replied, "However, I'm sure Hermione would not be prepared for that conversation, should you arrive unexpectedly."
Lucius disregarded that, turning to Molly and asking if she was sure her dining room was quite big enough for her growing family.
Molly very pointedly replied that a bit of extra space would always be welcome, especially with Fleur expecting again, and Percy returning to the fold. And with Teddy Lupin and his grandmother stopping by all the time.
Lucius remarked on that; how delightful his grand-nephew was, and how pleasant to know he was meeting such wonderful members of the community on a regular basis.
"Alright, enough!" Arthur shouted, standing up. "The house needs remodelling, I agree. But Molly, you're selling out Hermione Granger! The girl is like a daughter to you!"
"I would never sell out Hermione." Molly sniffed, insulted, "Lucius is simply asking to talk to her."
Lucius smirked; he had a feeling he'd just won. His self-congratulations were interrupted though, by the arrival of a small owl.
Arthur retrieved the letter and read it secretly. He turned around, approaching Lucius with a serious look on his face.
"The house is remodelled to our specifications at your expense." He stated, holding out his hand.
Lucius bit back his groan at the lack of subtlety but shook hands in agreement anyway.
"Agreed."
"Very well. Hermione is with her parents." Arthur handed over a slip of paper, "Here is the address."
"It's only natural that you're confused, sweetheart." Hermione's mother consoled her as she hugged her daughter. She glanced over to her husband who gave a brief nod.
Hermione looked up and her father hid his scratched hands behind his back.
"He was such a bully." Hermione hiccoughed. "What if it's all just a trick?"
"It sounds like he was very serious, dear." Her mother stated, "Besides, people change as they grow up. And most little boys don't know how to show that they like a girl. And your teen years were very… um…"
"Abnormal." Her husband supplied.
"Exactly."
"Well," Hermione thought about, "He never used to attack physically."
Her parents shared a look.
"And I suppose I enjoyed his company last month at the function."
Before her father could ask how she'd enjoyed Draco's company, someone began knocking at the front door. Leaving his wife to find out, he headed downstairs to answer it.
Two minutes later, he called Hermione down into the living room. She walked in and stopped in shock and apprehension.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. I believe we need to talk."
Narcissa stood outside her son's room. He'd been in there since arriving home from the hospital, refusing everyone else entry. Most worryingly, she had heard muffled cursing and loud crashes all afternoon. Any attempt at contact had been ignored or barred from inside the room.
Lucius had assured her he would be back before dinner with their special guest; now dinner was an hour away and Draco was still holed up.
She knocked but received no answer. She called his name and was met by more silence. She tried the door but it wouldn't open.
Her temper, already frayed, snapped and she drew her wand.
Draco scrambled backwards through the wreckage of his room as his door blew off the hinges.
"Draco Abraxas Malfoy! How dare you lock your door?" She glared around the room, taking in all the damage he'd done. "What have you done to your room?"
She stared in disbelief and growing fury, at the remains of furniture, clothes and books strewn across the floor. Draco tried to make himself invisible and her eyes narrowed as she spied him hiding behind an over-turned chair.
Hauling him out by his ear, Narcissa Malfoy glared at her son.
"You will fix this mess." She ordered, "Now!"
"Yes, Mother."
Lucius returned to the Manor, and escorted his guest into a sitting room near their informal dining room. Narcissa joined her there within ten minutes and tea was served as Lucius left to berate their recalcitrant son.
They all entered the dining room at the same time. Draco and Hermione halted, staring at each other from opposing doorways.
"Malfoy." Hermione greeted him nervously, before catching Lucius' look of displeasure and softening it to "Draco."
"Hermione?" He couldn't believe his eyes, "What are you doing here?"
She hesitated; he seemed to be oblivious to his parent's presence but she was not.
"Can I talk to you?" She asked, "In private?"
Narcissa directed her back into the sitting room and Lucius pushed Draco forward, with an admonishment not to be too long.
They stood awkwardly in the sitting room.
"I wanted to apologize." Hermione said quietly. "I shouldn't have avoided you last night."
Draco stared at her.
"It's just that, what Harry said, I freaked out. It was wrong of me."
At the mention of Harry's name, Draco's eyes narrowed, "What did Potter say?"
Hermione coloured, seemingly unable to repeat the words.
Draco swore. "I didn't punch him hard enough."
"Was he wrong?" Hermione asked timidly.
With a sharp look, Draco said, "Why don't you tell me exactly what he said and I'll tell you if he was wrong."
Hermione blushed darker.
"Or you could ask me what you were going to ask and I'd find out for myself." She replied, trying valiantly, though unsuccessfully to control her blush.
"Maybe I don't want to now." Draco crossed his arms smugly, "Maybe I'd rather hear what Potter said."
"And maybe I don't want to say it out loud."
"You could whisper it."
Hermione murmured something so low that he didn't hear it. He stepped closer.
"Repeat that."
She repeated it even quieter. He stepped up in front of her, leaning down next to her face.
"I didn't catch that." He whispered in her ear.
She said it again but was cut off by Draco's lips on hers.
She jumped away in surprise, one hand coming up to rest on her mouth.
"It was true!"
"Yes."
"That you…"
"Yes."
"And that…"
"For the love of… Yes, woman!" Draco growled, pacing away from her in frustration.
"But you were so awful!"
In an instant he was back in front of her, cradling her face in his hands, "I always, always hated you best."
She pulled a face at him, "That doesn't make any sense."
"Nothing did back then."
She stared up him, reading the sincerity in his face and the deeper emotions shining in his eyes were reflected in her own. They leaned towards each other.
In the other room, a bell chimed as Lucius rang for dinner and Narcissa called them in.
"After you," Draco said, stepping aside with a smooth bow.
Hermione smiled shyly, "With you?"
He smiled and offered his arm and they entered together.