SCAR was originally published on December 4, 2002, about one month prior to my sixteenth birthday. At that time, I was obsessed with Harry Potter, Ayumi Hamazaki (and anything Japanese), and the inherently angsty culture surrounding the punk and goth scenes. All of which, I decided to thrust upon Hermione and to some effect Draco when I wrote SCAR, my first ever work of fanfiction. The title came from an Ayumi Hamasaki song but really had nothing to do with the plot of the story, despite the fact that lyrics from various songs were peppered throughout the work of fiction. To this day, SCAR is my most reviewed and most viewed fic, but it has been up on for some seventeen years.
Seventeen years later, I started a futile attempt to re-write it and bring some sort of redemption to it. I got through probably the first three chapters, cold-writing it before I skimmed ahead and realized that it wasn't even remotely salvageable. There were too many awful moments, too many bizarre plot lines that stemmed from the mind of a fantasy-ridden sixteen-year-olds mind.
From my futile attempt at redemption, Summers at Hollingsby Park was born. It starts out much the same as SCAR but began evolving before I even realized that SCAR wasn't able to be saved.
I know I've got more works in progress than anyone should consciously have and yet I'm adding one more to the queue. This first chapter lays out quite a bit and subsequent chapters will likely contain significantly fewer words as the story progresses.
If you like it (or loathe it), I would love to hear your thoughts. Thank you in advance for reading!
...
As the sun was making its ascent over the sloping horizon, Hermione Granger rolled over in her bed, attempting to shield her eyes from the morning light. She inched closer to the mass of soft skin, hair so pale it was almost silver, and stormy grey eyes that lay next to her. The form next to her stirred in his sleep, instinctively pulling his arms more tightly around her, knowing their time together would be rapidly coming to a close. Hermione pressed her forehead to his chest as she attempted to tune out the distant sounds of birds chirping, attempting to fall once more into a peaceful slumber. She felt the brush of lips on her forehead as the wind blew through the open window, fluttering the curtains and carrying the faint scent of roses into the room even as she felt him tracing protective runes along her spine.
...
Earlier that Summer…
Hermione Granger rested her chin in her palm as she leaned against the kitchen table in her childhood home. Her mother was bustling around the kitchen preparing breakfast as she was silently attempting to add up the sum total of Malfoy's insults during their sixth year. She knew the times he used the word "mudblood" as opposed to throwing out other insults like "beaver toothed swot" was simply due to lack of creativity as she had caught him off guard. He always reverted to mudblood when she had bested him in a battle of the wits. As her father entered the kitchen and planted a kiss on her mother's cheek before smacking the older brunette on the ass, she lost count with a roll of her eyes.
"Damnit." She swore under her breath, a pout rising to her lips. "I lost count."
Annelise Granger eyed her daughter with a frown, pushing the lever down on the toaster. "Langauge, Hermione." She scolded lightly before turning her attention back to the frying eggs.
"Hermione, pumpkin, pay no attention to that boy. He doesn't know what he's talking about." Her father said dismissively, taking a seat across the table from her and opening the paper. She eyed his cup of steaming coffee seductively, but she knew better than to ask her mother for one this morning. Her mother had a thing against children drinking that sweet nectar of the gods. She begrudgingly took a sip of her orange juice desperately wishing it was coffee. The first thing she was going to do when her parents left for South America was walk down the street, sit in the coffee shop with a book, and drink as much as she wanted.
"I know his insults are worthless, dad, but it still stings a bit when he calls me a mudblood." Hermione said with a slight sneer as she uttered the vile word. "At least it's starting to lose its punch the more he says it…"
Richard Granger shook his head and gazed at his daughter over the top of his morning paper. "That's not what I meant, Hermione."
She stared at him blankly, barely blinking, waiting for him to espouse upon whatever meaning he was hiding.
"I simply meant that you should not let the Malfoy brat's words bother you. You're not a mudblood, or even a half-blood. You're a pureblood." He said it as nonchalantly as if he was commenting on the cut of her hair or a new blouse she was wearing.
Hermione nearly spit out her orange juice, her doe-like eyes growing as wide as the tea saucers her mother put out for the special visits with her Aunt Demelza. "E-excuse me?"
Annelise Granger stepped behind her husband waving a spatula at him in a threatening manner. "You… you… you… EXPLAIN!" The woman shouted, fire blazing in her eyes.
It was Richard Granger's turn to stare at the two women in his life who both looked like they wanted to murder him with a rusty spoon. It was clear he either hadn't been expecting that reaction or he hadn't meant to let that monumental bit of information slip out. "Now… uh…" He stumbled over his words.
"Granger is hardly scrawled between Gaunt and Greengrass in the Pure-Blood Directory, Dad." Hermione scowled, trying to regain her composure.
"No. No, it didn't appear in there, simply because I changed our name when I made the decision to leave the wizarding world for good. We have ties to the Travers on my side of the family and the Selwyns on your mother's…"
"Oh lovely, we're related to sodding Death Eaters." Hermione exclaimed, her scowl deepening. She didn't know what to do with this revelation. "Wait." She paused as the weight of her father's words sunk in. Hermione turned to her mother, her curls flickering with errant magic. "Mother…"
Annelise's face paled, dropping the spatula she had been waving erratically in Richard's face to her side. "I'm... I'm a… a squib."
Hermione pressed the heels of her hands in her eyes. "And you didn't think it pertinent to tell me this information before now? This changes everything." She hissed, the cogs of her mind turning faster than the dials of a time-turner.
"You're already of age and it's something you should know. Besides, you'll be spending time with your aunt this summer and the subject will invariably arise." Her father replied, capturing her mother's shaking hand in his own.
"Great… just… great." She groaned, letting her forehead fall to the table with a thud. "This day just keeps getting better and better…" she murmured, trying to calm down her spinning mind as she attempted to process this information.
….
Not a hair was out of place as Narcissa Malfoy leaned her perfectly composed face into the cool, green fire burning in the hearth of her sitting room. A cup of tea demurely clasped between her thumb and two fingers, the saucer resting delicately in her other hand.
"Have the preparations been made, Demelza?" She stated, curtly, a cunning smile snaking through her porcelain features.
The rounded face with riotous curls emerging from the coals replied, "Of course, dear Narcissa. Draco's room is being prepared as we speak. We are so looking forward to having him stay with us for the summer since you and Lucius will be traveling. He and our sweet Maya will find each other in good company, no doubt."
"Does Maya attend Hogwarts, Demelza?" Narcissa questioned, having heard very little of Demelza Selwyn's niece.
"Indeed. I'm not certain of her house affiliations, it's been many years since I've seen the sweet thing." Demelza replied, with a charming smile.
"Well, if she's one of our sort, it is fairly certain that she and Draco are already acquainted," Narcissa smirked, internally debating whether she should ask Draco about the girl or not.
"Perhaps," Demelza said with an airy smile. "You must excuse me, Narcissa. I must finish overseeing the preparations for the arrival of the children."
"Of course, of course. Go in grace, Demelza, and thank you again for looking after our son."
"Good day, Narcissa."
The flames extinguished and with a flick of her wrist, a happy memory, and an incantation, a silvery hawk was perched across from her sitting area on a nearby chair. "Take this message to my son: Draco, please join me in my sitting room." The hawk soared from Narcissa's room as she poured a cup of tea for Draco and one more for herself while she waited for her son to join her.
….
The silvery form of a hawk Patronus flew through the closed door and into Draco's bedroom, startling him into losing his place in the book he was reading.
"Draco, please join me in my sitting room." His mother's words flew from the hawk's beak. As soon as the message was delivered the silvery form dissolved.
With a frustrated groan, Draco marked the place in his book and rolled off of his bed and into a standing position, murmuring under his breath. "Of course, she decides to summon me right in the middle of the action."
Draco sauntered through the corridors of Malfoy Manor towards his mother's sitting room. He knew his mother and father were going on an extended trip and he shuddered to think that she might be packing him off with relatives for the summer. He would much rather spend his days lazing about the Manor and riding his broom in the gardens.
With a polite knock, his mother beckoned him to enter her sitting room.
"You asked to see me, mother?" He approached his mother and settled into a chair across from her, being sure to keep his back straight and his eyes forward. There was no one who valued proper manners quite like Narcissa Malfoy.
"Draco, as you know your father and I will be leaving on an extended trip in two days."
Draco nodded. Here it was, this was the conversation he had been dreading since his parents had announced their bloody trip three days ago at one of his mother's nauseating dinner parties.
"It has been decided that you will be staying at Hollingsby Park this summer. Demelza Selwyn and I have been acquaintances for years and she happens to have a niece your age who will be there as well. It should be a rather pleasant summer."
Draco groaned inwardly. This is just fucking great. His mother's thinly veiled attempt at setting him up with a perfect pureblood wife was clearly evident. Clearly, she expected something to happen with this Selwyn girl.
"Yes, mother." He replied automatically with a resigned sigh. He knew better than to argue with Narcissa Malfoy. There would certainly be no pleading to Lucius in an attempt to circumvent his mother's desires. If anything, his parents consistently presented a united front.
"Mipsy will help you pack your things." His mother said with a cunning smile.
….
"Hermione!" Annelise Granger called from the bottom of the stairs. "Please come here for a moment." Annelise heard a scrambling of feet from Hermione's room and a mere moment later she was bounding down the stairs.
"I just spoke with your aunt. She will be expecting you in two days." Her mother said as Hermione leaned against the banister.
"I was just starting to pack." Hermione lied, her mind still lost in the book she had been reading.
"Make sure you take some of your dress robes, you know how your aunt enjoys entertaining." Annelise eyed her daughter who was currently clad in a ratty t-shirt which exposed her midriff and a pair of barely there cotton shorts. "And something more conservative… Demelza informed me there will be a young man staying this summer as well. The son of a friend of hers…"
Hermione rolled her eyes and murmured a weak "yes ma'am" before wandering back up the stairs to lose herself in her book again, not giving another thought to the prospect of having to spend the summer with an Aunt she barely saw and some strange boy.
….
The sun was high in the sky and not a cloud was in sight when the car rounded the meticulously pruned concrete path that led to Hollingsby Park, the home of her aunt Demelza. The sprawling, whitewashed estate was sat atop a hill and surrounded by an orchard. The sweet scent of ripening fruit seeped through the opened windows as the car approached the house.
Hermione had discarded her mother's advice to wear conservative clothing. As far as Hermione was concerned, she had absolutely no one to impress. Random (likely pureblood) boy or not, she couldn't have cared less. She had dressed for comfort, knowing she would be cramped in the family sedan for a few hours. Why they couldn't just apparate or floo to Hollingsby Park, she didn't know. The realization that she belonged to the aristocratic, secretive pureblood sect still hadn't fully sunk in. Hermione tugged at the waistband of her curve-hugging ripped and faded jeans and adjusted the faded Gryffindor t-shirt she wore as she stepped out of the sedan. It was barely eleven in the morning and the heat was already stifling. She fanned herself, fluttering the simple silver chain with a ring attached to it as it sat at the base of her neck.
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear with a perfectly filed, but rebelliously painted black finger nail wishing for even the slightest breeze. Hermione adjusted one of the earbuds in her ear as she craned to hear the melody of one of her favorite songs, her fingertips automatically touching the ring sitting at the base of her neck. It was barely mid-June and Hermione was ready to return to Hogwarts and back to Harry's comforting embrace. She knew he must be having a miserable summer at the Dursleys, but there was nothing she could do apart from write.
Hermione walked around the to boot of the sedan and hoisted her bag over her shoulder giving her dad a look that screamed in all of her seventeen-year-old glory that she was a strong, independent woman and was fully capable of carrying her own bag.
With a kiss on her cheek and a tight hug from her mother, her parents were back in the family sedan speeding towards the airport in order to catch their flight to South America.
Hermione stared at the large wooden door in front of her when she heard the sharp crack of apparition behind her. As she turned, her amber eyes locked with a pair of steel colored orbs, recognition flashing across both of their faces. Attached to the pair of eyes the color of a winter storm was a tall, lean young man. His hands rested easily in the pockets of charcoal gray trousers. His muscular chest was covered with an emerald green oxford and a black waistcoat. A set of impeccably tailored black robes covered his broad shoulders.
"Malfoy!"
"Granger"
The pair shouted in unison, looks of shock, anger, and loathing flashing across each of their faces. They stood still, wands trained one another and they stared each other down.
Moments later, the large wooden door swung open, revealing a petite witch with riotous auburn curls and a slightly pinched expression. The expression changed to one of a dreamy smirk as she clapped her hands delightfully.
"Oh good. You know each other. Won't this be fun." The witch drawled. "Put your wands away, children and come inside."
Hermione tucked her wand into the pocket of her jeans as Draco stowed his in his robes both frowning at her use of the world children. Demelza Selwyn stood in the doorway as she waited patiently for her niece or the son of her former school mate to approach. Hermione was the one who moved first taking a few tentative steps towards her aunt, followed quickly by Draco.
As Draco's strides quickly closed the distance between them, Hermione attempted to step to the side, stumbling on the steps she was ascending. She caught herself before she fully landed on her arse but not quickly enough to avoid the sneer and cruel laughter of Draco Malfoy.
"Oh look, the mudblood is in the dirt where she deserves to be." He sneered, staring down at her with a cruel smirk.
"Shut your fucking face, you insufferable ferret," Hermione growled back, dusting the dust from her jeans and tucking her earbuds away in her pocket.
"How dare you! Your disgusting muggle mother should've drowned you at birth." He spat, clenching his fists at his side.
"I can see that scar next to your nose from third year, Malfoy, when I so delightfully disfigured your face for insulting Hagrid. If you don't shut your mouth, you'll have a matching one on the other side." Hermione seethed, reaching back to grab her wand from the pocket of her jeans.
"You dare threaten me? I know curses so horrible you couldn't begin to imagine the pain they can cause. Watch your mouth, mudblood." He vehemently spat.
"Enough." Her aunt said sternly. "Your parents both raised you with better manners. If I hear another word from either of you before I've finished saying what I have to say, you'll both be scrubbing dishes with the house elves after dinner. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Hermione replied, automatically, straightening her back and folding her hands in front of her.
Draco simply nodded in acknowledgment, biting the inside of his lip to keep his snide comments at bay.
"You'll both be guests in my home until the start of the fall term, so you'd better learn to make the best of it. I will not have my home in chaos because of some school yard pissing match. You're both of age, considered adults in our world, and you'd better start acting like it."
The two school mates said nothing, blank stares trained on the petite witch in front of them. Neither willing to show the other a weakness, but both feeling a slight pang of guilt rising in up their chests.
"Now, the manor is being remodeled and the construction is stalled for a short time. Therefore, for the next week or so you two will be sharing a suite. There are two separate rooms joined by a lavatory and each door locks. I expect you both to be civil to one another. I will take your wands if I have to, understood?"
"Yes, Aunt Demelza," Hermione replied with a resigned sigh. She could feel the blood beginning to pulse at her temples, a dull ache starting to flood her senses, her vision blurring slightly.
"Yes, Madam Selwyn," Draco replied, curtly, knowing there was no way out of this. His parents would practically disown him if he tried to run off. He wasn't willing to risk his inheritance over a mudblood, failing to recall the fact that his mother had mentioned Demelza Selwyn's niece would also be staying at Hollingsby Park that summer.
Demelza Selwyn led the pair of seething teenagers through the main door of Hollingsby Park. Giving them no time to take in their surroundings, she escorted them up a sweeping flight of stairs to a pair of polished mahogany doors. Hermione entered the door to the right of her aunt without a word, leaving the pair standing in the hallway.
"Your room is on the left, Mr. Malfoy." The older witch flicked her wrist, motioning to the door to her left.
With a curt nod and a distinct squaring of his shoulders, Draco entered the room that had been designated for him. The room was tastefully decorated with dark wainscoting encircling the space topped with a somber gray silk wall cover that stopped at the juncture between wall and ceiling. Navy blue drapes fluttered in the breeze as they flanked two large open windows. The bed was done up in the same shade of deep cobalt and was covered with several plush pillows.
Draco opened his trunk and started rummaging through his things, preparing to stow them away when a cacophony of melodic sounds began to drift through the shared lavatory from Granger's room. With a sharp pinch to the bridge of his nose and an annoyed growl, Draco stormed across the room, through the shared lavatory, and threw open the door to her room.
"Turn that fucking shit off, Granger," Draco shouted over the too loud music. The shock of seeing her had already put a bad taste in his mouth. He had resigned to somewhat tolerate her giving that he had no other choice, but he was not about to be subjected to music with words he didn't understand. He couldn't very well pretend she didn't exist if her bloody music was assaulting his ears.
Hermione ignored his outburst, re-folding and tucking a pair of jeans into the wardrobe, humming along to the song, trying her best to take comfort in the meaning behind the lyrics. Her summer was ruined. Harry was inaccessible, her friends were busy with summer plans, and she was stuck in a house, not to mention sharing a suite, with Draco Malfoy for the entire summer. Oh, not to mention she had just had the knowledge she was pureblood thrust upon. She still didn't know what to do with that tidbit of information.
"Granger, I mean it. Turn that fucking music off or so help me…" He threatened, stepping further into her room. Hermione's room was decorated in similar manner to his, the exception being that her drapes and bed were dyed a deep indigo.
"Did you suddenly forget you're a wizard, Malfoy? Throw up a silencing charm. Now get out." She seethed, pointing towards the door through which he had come.
Fuck. Draco stormed back into his room and violently erected a silencing charm, drowning out the melancholy melody coming from her side of the room. Sweet silence.
Across the suite, Hermione threw herself down onto her bed, pulling out one of her favorite books. She fiddled with the ring on the chain around her heck as she cracked the pages of the novel. Her eyes flicked rapidly from word to word as she sunk deeper into the story. At least, if she was alone in her room with her music and her books, she could pretend Malfoy wasn't stomping around on the other side of the wall.
….
With a resigned sigh, Hermione knocked on the door to Draco's side of the suite. She heard the shuffling sound of him moving off of what was likely the bed and the thudding footfalls as she approached the door.
"He has the grace of an erumpet in heat…" Hermione muttered to herself.
As Malfoy opened the door, Hermione took a moment to study him. What was that saying? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? He stood more than a head taller than her petite frame and his seeker-built frame was lean. His hair was so blonde it almost bordered on silver and was artfully tousled, a few strands brushing the skin of his forehead. His eyes glared down at her with a look of distinct loathing while his lips were pursed into a boredom laced sneer.
"Yes, Granger?"
"We need to talk." She replied with a cautious tone.
"There is absolutely nothing that I need to discuss with you… ever. I don't even know why a filthy mudblood like you is here in the home of a Selwyn." He said, staring down his nose at her.
"Did the house elf that breastfed you drop you on your head as a child?" Hermione retorted, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him with dangerously narrowed eyes.
Draco gaped at her in a stunned silence.
"Now, let me in, Malfoy. We need to talk and it's better that we do it now since we're obviously stuck together for the summer."
Draco stepped back from the door frame allowing Hermione to pass. Once the door was closed behind them she threw up a silencing charm ensuring her aunt wouldn't be able to hear them.
"I'm only going to say this once, so you'd better listen to what I have to say." She said, tucking a rebellious curl behind her ear.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Granger. Just get on with it."
"You are I are the top two students in our year and I know for a fact that you've been notified, just as I have, about being appointed as head boy and head girl. As much as I loathe you, that means we are going to need to work together during the year which means that we'd better start finding a way to tolerate one another while we're both stuck in this pureblood hellhole together for more weeks than I care to acknowledge."
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against a nearby armoire. Draco started to interrupt but Hermione silenced him with a raise of her hand.
"Because of this, I'm going to let you in on a little family secret I learned about four days ago simply because it might help you to tolerate my presence."
Draco quirked an eyebrow, "Go on…"
"Do you know why I haven't flinched not once when you've called a mudblood exactly three times since you showed up here? Aside from the fact that it's a tired insult now, really you could be more creative…" Hermione twirled an errant curl around her finger.
"Get to the point, Granger," Draco growled, his impatience and irritation growing with each passing second. The timbre of her voice felt like nails on a chalkboard and it was starting to scratch a hole in his cochlea.
"I'm a pureblood." She blurted out with a small triumphant smile gracing her lips. "Aunt Demelza is my mum's sister and my father recently decided to share the fact that he's been masquerading a muggle for all of these years."
Hermione began to pace around Draco's room, gesturing with her hands as she continued to ramble. "Now, I've been doing some digging within the family trees over the past few days to confirm what my idiotic father decided to divulge. Richard Travers, my father before he changed his surname, was the youngest son of Algernon and Celestina Travers. My mum, Annelise Selwyn was a squib born to Anthea and Augustus Selwyn. Her surname was changed Sellers when she was sent into the muggle world to help her make the transition easier. You know how that generation was with squibs, they just wanted to hide them…"
Suddenly, the realization hit Draco square in the chest as though someone had hit him with a particularly powerful stun. "You're not just a pureblood, Granger… you're… you're..."
"Sacred twenty-eight," she whispered, finishing his thought. "And I don't have a fucking clue what to do with this information. Everything has changed."
Draco took a moment to study Hermione's features as his brain slowly processed this information. The sunlight from the window made her disobedient curls glow with a slight auburn tint. Tiny freckles dotted the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her coffee-colored eyes were fractured beautifully with bits of green. The pair of muggle jeans and faded t-shirt that skimmed her curves left little to the imagination.
She was still Granger - irritating, fastidious, know-it-all, but somehow the absence of the word mudblood in the list of her traits made Draco suddenly question the accuracy of the other traits he had assigned her. This realization caused him to frown and feel suddenly very unsteady on his own feet.
"Anyway," Hermione mumbled with a sigh. "I thought you should know."
….
After disclosing her recent revelations to Malfoy, the afternoon found Hermione sitting in a window seat, curls shifting and twisting around her face as she clutched a piece of parchment between her fingers. She wiped away a stray tear as it tumbled down her cheek, staring at everything and nothing that lay beyond the window.
She wasn't lying when she had errantly confided to Malfoy that absolutely everything in her world had changed. A week ago, she knew exactly who she was. She was proud of the fact that she was a muggle-born witch. It was something that drove her to do and be at her best and now that had been ripped from her and she had been thrust into a world she knew absolutely nothing about. Well, not nothing, she had begun the futile attempts to research pureblood traditions, starting with her own family tree, but without a trip to Flourish and Blotts, her research was indefinitely stalled.
The letter she had received from Harry certainly hadn't helped matters. It just brought the reality crashing down that she would need to tell him and she had absolutely no idea how to do that. She knew that the family had dark leanings during the First Wizarding War and that there were several Death Eaters within her extended family. She supposed she would be branded a blood-traitor since she would rather make love to a blast-ended skrewt than give one iota of support to Voldemort. Not to mention the fact that she had not been indoctrinated with that blood purity nonsense and fully supported the inclusion of muggle-borns into the wizarding world.
Hermione glanced down at the hastily scrawled words, tracing over each letter with the tip of her finger.
Finally managed to sneak Hedwig out for a fly without the Dursleys noticing. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you. Can't wait to see you in Diagon Alley at the end of August.
August. It might as well have been an eternity away. Hermione was stuck with her eccentric aunt and Draco Malfoy for the summer. Her parents had traveled to South America with Operation Smile to provide dental services to children living in poverty and she would be utterly unable to contact them until the end of the summer when they returned. This really was shaping up to be the worst summer of her entire seventeen-year existence.
Hermione reached out of her window and brushed the tips of her fingers against one of the blooming roses that had climbed up the trellis which was anchored just below her window and sighed. She would need time to sort everything out and at least being secluded at Hollingsby Park would give her some of that time.
She opted to pen a quick update to Harry before losing herself in the novel she had been reading until the bell inevitably rang announcing dinner and she would once again have to face Malfoy.
My parents shipped me off to my aunt's home for the summer and I'm being forced into regular interactions with none other than our favorite ferret-face. I'm going crazy without you already. Miss you. Love you.
Hermione folded the parchment and addressed the envelope. She would send it off later when she went down for dinner. Reaching over to grab the book she had been reading from the nearby shelf, Hermione found her place and let the words wash over her and pull her out of reality for a few hours.
….
Hermione pushed an errant potato around her plate as her aunt droned on and on about her latest shopping trip in France, pausing only momentarily to recount how she had enjoyed lunch with an apparently famous fashion designer who specialized in couture dress robes. Her eyes shifted momentarily to Draco and despite his stoic but interested expression, the dull sheen of his eyes told her he was just as bored as she was. Her aunt clearly hadn't noticed because she continued to prattle on which left Hermione desperate for a peaceful silence.
Hermione had last visited Hollingsby Park two summers before she attended Hogwarts for the first time, just before the death of Uncle Ignatius. Attending Hogwarts, Hermione had rarely seen her aunt in the years since, only occasionally when they met for tea with her mother and one memorable Christmas where her aunt had gifted her several muggle toys that were made for five-year-olds. That should've been her first clue that her aunt wasn't familiar with muggle customs given that Hermione had been thirteen at the time. Prior to that, she had rarely stayed at Hollingsby Park for longer than a few days and if her aunt had been using magic at the time, it was certainly concealed from the impressionable young witch.
Hermione found herself snapped back into reality just as her aunt was muttering a few words and giving her a sickly-sweet smile that reminded her of Dolores Umbridge, the vile toad.
"Maya, my dear, you absolutely must show Draco around the gardens tomorrow."
"It's been so long since I've been to the gardens, Aunt Demelza. I'm not certain I know them myself enough to show them to another." Hermione replied, hoping to save herself from an afternoon alone with Malfoy.
"Nonsense, my dear girl. I insist upon it." Her aunt said, waving a fork around somewhat precariously. Her aunt was clearly somewhat outdated on proper pureblood manners and she noticed Draco's nose crinkle a bit. Pureblood matriarchs simply did not wave their forks around.
Hermione shared a reluctant glance with Draco and nodded in submission. There was no getting around it. "Yes, Aunt Demelza."
"Brunch in the south garden, I think. It's so lovely this time of year." Demelza said, tapping the rounded edge of her fork on the white table cloth.
….
Draco caught Hermione by the elbow just before she entered her own room of their shared suite a few moments after Demelza Selwyn had retired to her room for the evening. He and Hermione had been forced into the drawing room for coffee and conversation, most of which was thoroughly one-sided thanks to Demelza's excessive need to fill the air with something other than silence.
"Bugger off, Malfoy." Hermione hissed, yanking her arm from his grasp as though his touch burned her flesh.
Draco's lips twitched with latent curiosity, "Granger, why does your aunt call you Maya?" Strangely there was no undercurrent of hatred in questions. He spoke to her almost as if he tolerated her presence, something he had frankly never done in the sixth years they had attended Hogwarts together.
"She just does." Hermione sputtered. "She's called me that since I've known her. Apparently, the mouthful my mother bestowed up on me is much too difficult to say." Her mind briefly replayed the memory of Viktor Krum trying to learn how to pronounce her name during her fourth year.
"Her-maya-knee." She said slowly, emphasizing each syllable with a gradual lift of her eyebrows.
"Hm. Curious." Draco mused with a quirk of his lips. Shrugging his shoulders he stepped away from the curly haired witch, retreating towards his room. "Goodnight, Granger." He said stiffly before opening the door and slipping inside.
Hermione stood in stunned silence for several seconds as the door to his room met the frame with a barely audible click. Apparently, her change in blood status somehow suddenly made her much more tolerable. Hermione knew she should be seething with anger that he would put so much weight on something so inconsequential, but she could only feel relief wash over her. Perhaps if she and Malfoy were able to be civil to one another, this summer wouldn't be completely awful.