[a/n: hello all! Sorry to have taken such a loooong break, but I've been
rather busy with school and what not. Anyway, due to the enormous requests
for a sequel to Games of Seduction, here it is!! I would've posted it on
my other name, maverickryder, except I seem to have forgotten the password
and e-mail that I used.something stupid enough only I could manage.
Sigh.well, I hope you enjoy this, and I'll continue this story if enough of
you review! Hehe, there's some incentive for you all.]
Hermione fiddled nervously with her 2-karat pink diamond engagement ring from the famed Muggle jeweler, Harry Winston or another. The stone was a beautifully princess-cut gem, flanked on each side by dazzlingly clear baguette diamonds. The platinum shone in the sun and complimented her fair skin well. She looked at her ring, and realized all that it symbolized, and smiled. Hermione lightly put her hand over her fiancé's and gave a little squeeze.
"Hmm?" asked Draco Malfoy. "Oh.nothing.I'm nervous," replied Hermione.
Draco wasn't looking so shabby himself, in a crisply pressed black shirt and black slacks. He had cuffed his sleeves up a quarter of the way due to the intensifying heat outside. July was unrelenting, even in the shady outsets of the Wizarding countryside.
"Don't be," reassured Draco, "everything's going to be perfect." He planted a little kiss on Hermione's forehead and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But what if your parents don't like me? I mean, come on, I'm a Muggleborn.what are the chances?" "My parents will love you, don't be silly. I've already told them all about you and your background." Draco cleared his throat. "You-what?" Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Draco made a face as if nothing was wrong. "I explained to them that you were of Muggle descent." "And you mean to tell me that they didn't find anything wrong with that." "Well-it took some convincing, but I mean, they haven't even met you!" Draco grinned, "They're going to love you once they meet you, they're already fine with the fact that you're Muggleborn." "Oy, I hope you know what we're getting into." Hermione's gaze settled on the scenery outside of the carriage. Miles and miles of rolling hills and country stretched as far as the eye could see. Idyllic clouds wafted through the sky and the breeze rustled the tall grasses lightly.
Before she knew it, Hermione fell asleep with her head on Draco's lap.
~*~
"Here we are!" Draco gently shook Hermione. "Hmm?" mumbled Hermione in her half-comatose stupor. Draco blew a wet raspberry on Hermione's cheek. "We're here, you silly goose. Wake up." Hermione bolted upright. "Oh my goodness-I look a mess. What am I going to do? Is my makeup alright? Is my hair undone? My clothes! They're all wrinkled!" Gripping Hermione by the shoulders, Draco looked at her. "'Mione, you have got to relax. And you look absolutely stunning, so don't even worry about that. Just be yourself." "Be myself, be myself, ok, be myself," she chanted methodically. "Be myself."
The carriage door swung open and bright sunshine flooded in. Hermione and Draco both squinted as they descended the short flight of steps that led to the richly paved walkway of Malfoy Manor. The sound of heels clacking quickly was heard.
"Draco!" It was the voice of a refined older woman, whose baby blond hair was not yet grayed by the sands of time. It was piled up elegantly atop her delicate head, and her small frame was exquisitely adorned in the richest silks and jewelry. She impulsively hugged her son and caressed his face. "I'm so glad you're home, darling; it's been so long since you've been back. And oh-is this?" She turned to Hermione and smiled warmly. "I'm Narcissa, dear, Draco's mother. It's such a pleasure to finally meet you-he's said so many wonderful things about you!"
Hermione blushed deeply. "The pleasure is completely mine, Mrs. Malfoy, I- " Narcissa laughed, "Oh please, dear, call me Narcissa, everyone does." "Oh! Well, um, Narcissa, I've heard some amazing things about you as well. And Mr. Malfoy as well, of course." Draco beamed at the sight of his mother and his fiancée getting along so well.
Lucius Malfoy strode down the pathway and approached his son. "I'm glad you're home, Draco. It's been quite a while." Draco smiled and shook his father's hand. "Father, this is Hermione, my fiancée." Lucius turned to Hermione. She was smiling timidly. "It's wonderful to meet you, Hermione. I'm glad my son has decided to marry after all, despite those years of rebellion."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Father, I wasn't rebelling. The world was just wrong for a couple of years, and I was on a strike against it." "Oh don't be such a ninny," Narcissa laughed, "you tried to get a tattoo on your chest." She said to Hermione, "He fancied himself some sort of rough- n-tough macho boy. Luckily we stamped that out of him." "I swear, mother, one day I'll get that tattoo, if only to surprise you."
~*~ "Here you go, Hermione, this will be Draco's and your room." Narcissa swung a pair of impressive-looking wooden doors open to reveal a luxuriously decorated apartment. The entire room was done up in a Louis XIV style, with ornate wooden furniture everywhere, and gilded accents at every corner. A marble fireplace was surrounded by lovely furniture and there was a vanity, an armoire, and a dresser, among other things, that lined the walls.
Narcissa led Hermione to a door. "This is the bathroom. If you ever need your bath to be drawn, don't hesitate to ask the house elves." Hermione cringed slightly.
The bathroom was equally majestic. The floors were completely covered in marble, and a huge bathtub occupied center stage. A shower was settled in the corner, as well as other amenities, and two sinks rested upon the marble counter.
"Everything's so lovely," commented Hermione in complete honesty. Narcissa laughed lightly. "Oh this was all redone when we heard Draco was getting married. We wanted to be give you two a room to stay in whenever you visited Malfoy Manor-you know, a room to yourself. And maybe someday." Narcissa opened another door on the other side of the room. It was completely decorated in soft yellow tones, with a crib on one side, a changing table, a rocking chair, a heap of toys, and a wash basin.
Hermione blushed. "Oh well, er, we haven't thought that far ahead, actually," she admitted. "I completely understand. It's just very important for the Malfoys to continue their lineage-a very strict social and hereditary standard, really. And just between the two of us, Lucius would really love the firstborn to be a male," whispered Narcissa confidentially. "But that's our little secret." "Oh," Hermione laughed nervously, "I'll.try my best?" Narcissa trilled, "No need to worry now! You should unpack and get comfortable in your apartment. I'll have an elf call you when it's time for dinner, hmm?" With that, she administered the polite double-kiss and left.
She looked around the impressive room. It was so Versailles, everything about it. Hermione knew Draco was of French descent, so the decor didn't really come as a surprise. She also knew he was filthy rich. That didn't stop her, of course, from being at a complete loss for words.
Hermione plopped her suitcase on the bed and flipped the top open. Neatly, one by one, she began to transfer her clothes to the dresser. Now that she was actually at Malfoy Manor, she was beginning to get worried about how she was supposed to dress. All she had packed were jeans and tee-shirts, more or less. Sure there was a skirt or two thrown in, and maybe a pair of heels.but were they expecting her to dress like Wizarding high society?
Just then the door opened and Draco came in. He plopped down on the loveseat in front of the dormant fireplace and kicked his heels up on the footrest. Draco looked at Hermione and grinned. "Whatcha doin' gorgeous?"
She absentmindedly continued to unpack. "Oh I'm just putting away some clothes. Hey, do you know if I'm supposed to dress up for dinner or anything?"
"Mmhmm," he replied, "You always have to dress for dinner."
Hermione looked at him in despair. "I have nothing to wear."
He laughed. "What a classic female line. 'I have nothing to wear.' I'm sure you've got plenty to wear." "No! I only have jeans and what not. I wasn't expecting to dress up every night to eat a meal! You and your crazy family rituals." Draco sighed. "It's not just my family that does this, you know. All of the Wizarding folk that are, well, up there on the social ladder, do. Didn't Mother show you your closet?" "Er, no?"
Draco walked over to a pair of doors and opened them. Inside, an entire row of gorgeous dressed lay waiting, hung above a bevy of dainty little heels. Hermione went into ecstasies.
"Oh they're just gorgeous!" She reached for a pale pink dress and laid it against her body. "What do you think?" Draco grinned. "I think you look fabulous, dah-ling." She punched him lightly. "This house is just too much," she whispered. "Isn't it though?" His smile faded and he leaned in. "You're just too much," he said quietly. "Mm, am I now?" She kissed him and closed her eyes, breathing in his fresh cologne. He smelled like snow. Hermione ran her fingers up and down his chest lightly. As she pulled away, she asked, "Now, was that too much?" Draco smirked in that way he was so famous for.
"That was just right."
Hermione fiddled nervously with her 2-karat pink diamond engagement ring from the famed Muggle jeweler, Harry Winston or another. The stone was a beautifully princess-cut gem, flanked on each side by dazzlingly clear baguette diamonds. The platinum shone in the sun and complimented her fair skin well. She looked at her ring, and realized all that it symbolized, and smiled. Hermione lightly put her hand over her fiancé's and gave a little squeeze.
"Hmm?" asked Draco Malfoy. "Oh.nothing.I'm nervous," replied Hermione.
Draco wasn't looking so shabby himself, in a crisply pressed black shirt and black slacks. He had cuffed his sleeves up a quarter of the way due to the intensifying heat outside. July was unrelenting, even in the shady outsets of the Wizarding countryside.
"Don't be," reassured Draco, "everything's going to be perfect." He planted a little kiss on Hermione's forehead and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But what if your parents don't like me? I mean, come on, I'm a Muggleborn.what are the chances?" "My parents will love you, don't be silly. I've already told them all about you and your background." Draco cleared his throat. "You-what?" Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Draco made a face as if nothing was wrong. "I explained to them that you were of Muggle descent." "And you mean to tell me that they didn't find anything wrong with that." "Well-it took some convincing, but I mean, they haven't even met you!" Draco grinned, "They're going to love you once they meet you, they're already fine with the fact that you're Muggleborn." "Oy, I hope you know what we're getting into." Hermione's gaze settled on the scenery outside of the carriage. Miles and miles of rolling hills and country stretched as far as the eye could see. Idyllic clouds wafted through the sky and the breeze rustled the tall grasses lightly.
Before she knew it, Hermione fell asleep with her head on Draco's lap.
~*~
"Here we are!" Draco gently shook Hermione. "Hmm?" mumbled Hermione in her half-comatose stupor. Draco blew a wet raspberry on Hermione's cheek. "We're here, you silly goose. Wake up." Hermione bolted upright. "Oh my goodness-I look a mess. What am I going to do? Is my makeup alright? Is my hair undone? My clothes! They're all wrinkled!" Gripping Hermione by the shoulders, Draco looked at her. "'Mione, you have got to relax. And you look absolutely stunning, so don't even worry about that. Just be yourself." "Be myself, be myself, ok, be myself," she chanted methodically. "Be myself."
The carriage door swung open and bright sunshine flooded in. Hermione and Draco both squinted as they descended the short flight of steps that led to the richly paved walkway of Malfoy Manor. The sound of heels clacking quickly was heard.
"Draco!" It was the voice of a refined older woman, whose baby blond hair was not yet grayed by the sands of time. It was piled up elegantly atop her delicate head, and her small frame was exquisitely adorned in the richest silks and jewelry. She impulsively hugged her son and caressed his face. "I'm so glad you're home, darling; it's been so long since you've been back. And oh-is this?" She turned to Hermione and smiled warmly. "I'm Narcissa, dear, Draco's mother. It's such a pleasure to finally meet you-he's said so many wonderful things about you!"
Hermione blushed deeply. "The pleasure is completely mine, Mrs. Malfoy, I- " Narcissa laughed, "Oh please, dear, call me Narcissa, everyone does." "Oh! Well, um, Narcissa, I've heard some amazing things about you as well. And Mr. Malfoy as well, of course." Draco beamed at the sight of his mother and his fiancée getting along so well.
Lucius Malfoy strode down the pathway and approached his son. "I'm glad you're home, Draco. It's been quite a while." Draco smiled and shook his father's hand. "Father, this is Hermione, my fiancée." Lucius turned to Hermione. She was smiling timidly. "It's wonderful to meet you, Hermione. I'm glad my son has decided to marry after all, despite those years of rebellion."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Father, I wasn't rebelling. The world was just wrong for a couple of years, and I was on a strike against it." "Oh don't be such a ninny," Narcissa laughed, "you tried to get a tattoo on your chest." She said to Hermione, "He fancied himself some sort of rough- n-tough macho boy. Luckily we stamped that out of him." "I swear, mother, one day I'll get that tattoo, if only to surprise you."
~*~ "Here you go, Hermione, this will be Draco's and your room." Narcissa swung a pair of impressive-looking wooden doors open to reveal a luxuriously decorated apartment. The entire room was done up in a Louis XIV style, with ornate wooden furniture everywhere, and gilded accents at every corner. A marble fireplace was surrounded by lovely furniture and there was a vanity, an armoire, and a dresser, among other things, that lined the walls.
Narcissa led Hermione to a door. "This is the bathroom. If you ever need your bath to be drawn, don't hesitate to ask the house elves." Hermione cringed slightly.
The bathroom was equally majestic. The floors were completely covered in marble, and a huge bathtub occupied center stage. A shower was settled in the corner, as well as other amenities, and two sinks rested upon the marble counter.
"Everything's so lovely," commented Hermione in complete honesty. Narcissa laughed lightly. "Oh this was all redone when we heard Draco was getting married. We wanted to be give you two a room to stay in whenever you visited Malfoy Manor-you know, a room to yourself. And maybe someday." Narcissa opened another door on the other side of the room. It was completely decorated in soft yellow tones, with a crib on one side, a changing table, a rocking chair, a heap of toys, and a wash basin.
Hermione blushed. "Oh well, er, we haven't thought that far ahead, actually," she admitted. "I completely understand. It's just very important for the Malfoys to continue their lineage-a very strict social and hereditary standard, really. And just between the two of us, Lucius would really love the firstborn to be a male," whispered Narcissa confidentially. "But that's our little secret." "Oh," Hermione laughed nervously, "I'll.try my best?" Narcissa trilled, "No need to worry now! You should unpack and get comfortable in your apartment. I'll have an elf call you when it's time for dinner, hmm?" With that, she administered the polite double-kiss and left.
She looked around the impressive room. It was so Versailles, everything about it. Hermione knew Draco was of French descent, so the decor didn't really come as a surprise. She also knew he was filthy rich. That didn't stop her, of course, from being at a complete loss for words.
Hermione plopped her suitcase on the bed and flipped the top open. Neatly, one by one, she began to transfer her clothes to the dresser. Now that she was actually at Malfoy Manor, she was beginning to get worried about how she was supposed to dress. All she had packed were jeans and tee-shirts, more or less. Sure there was a skirt or two thrown in, and maybe a pair of heels.but were they expecting her to dress like Wizarding high society?
Just then the door opened and Draco came in. He plopped down on the loveseat in front of the dormant fireplace and kicked his heels up on the footrest. Draco looked at Hermione and grinned. "Whatcha doin' gorgeous?"
She absentmindedly continued to unpack. "Oh I'm just putting away some clothes. Hey, do you know if I'm supposed to dress up for dinner or anything?"
"Mmhmm," he replied, "You always have to dress for dinner."
Hermione looked at him in despair. "I have nothing to wear."
He laughed. "What a classic female line. 'I have nothing to wear.' I'm sure you've got plenty to wear." "No! I only have jeans and what not. I wasn't expecting to dress up every night to eat a meal! You and your crazy family rituals." Draco sighed. "It's not just my family that does this, you know. All of the Wizarding folk that are, well, up there on the social ladder, do. Didn't Mother show you your closet?" "Er, no?"
Draco walked over to a pair of doors and opened them. Inside, an entire row of gorgeous dressed lay waiting, hung above a bevy of dainty little heels. Hermione went into ecstasies.
"Oh they're just gorgeous!" She reached for a pale pink dress and laid it against her body. "What do you think?" Draco grinned. "I think you look fabulous, dah-ling." She punched him lightly. "This house is just too much," she whispered. "Isn't it though?" His smile faded and he leaned in. "You're just too much," he said quietly. "Mm, am I now?" She kissed him and closed her eyes, breathing in his fresh cologne. He smelled like snow. Hermione ran her fingers up and down his chest lightly. As she pulled away, she asked, "Now, was that too much?" Draco smirked in that way he was so famous for.
"That was just right."