A/N:
Darlings, let me begin by apologizing for Madea. She's been just awfully remiss in not posting sooner, but her schoolwork is absolutely too much. All the same, I've explained how rude she's been and she's very sorry.
That nice Countess Black has been wonderfully helpful, and a good influence as well, I think.
I've encouraged both the dear girls to take things slowly, and sternly forbade any vulgar happenings this early in things, but I rather fear they'll return soon enough.
Now, I know you'll all leave me a nice little note, because you wouldn't want to disapoint me,
Yours,
Narcissa Malfoy
Hermione had first become aware of exactly how much had changed when she woke late the next morning and found a strange house elf staring down at her, tennis ball eyes glowing with a sort of fanatic devotion which, even in her sleepy state, she found deeply creepy.
She gasped, sitting and pulling the blankets up to her chin, which woke Draco. The elf jerked back with a cry, bowing until its ears touched the duvet and began to weep breathlessly. "Young Madam is being awake! Young Madam is seeing Leesy!" She sobbed harder and Draco, looking murderous, snapped 'Shut. Up.' And sat as well, bare chest very pale in the sunlight.
Hermione reached for the goblet of cold water on the bedside table, swallowed some and set it back down. "Hello there. Is something wrong, er, Leesy?"
The elf shook her head, still crying, and punched herself in the nose. "No! We is just so happy to be seeing our young Madam!"
" And I am happy to see you, but right now I think Draco—young Master—and I would like some time to wake up. Could you possibly step out and let us alone for a while?"
Leesy looked ready to argue when Tibby abrupted Apparated into the room, looking as though she were filled with joyful pique. "Stupid Leesy is waking up the young Master and Madam! Leesy is bad elf!"
Leesy wheeled around and crossed her arms, looking similarly cross to see Tibby. "What is Tibby knowing? It is only baby minder elf! Leesy is lady's maid!"
"Leesy is only serving three generations the Malfoy family! Tibby is serving five!"
"Tibby is wiping noses! Leesy is being servant body servant to three Madams!"
The whole thing could have got much uglier if Draco hadn't chanced to look at his watch and swear quietly. "Enough of this, Tibby, go and tell Father we'll receive them in ten minutes. Leesy, fetch young Madam's nightdress and my sleepclothes as well. Hurry."
Hermione skinned back into her nightgown, confused. "Draco?"
"We have to receive Mother and Father in bed. Leesy, send for tea and for Merlin's sake, move, are you stupid? Go."
"Draco, that's not kind." Hermione frowned and Draco, remembering how sentimental Granger was when it came to the idiot creatures, nodded. "Sorry, love."
"Don't tell me, Draco. Tell Leesy."
"Apologize? To an elf?' He chuckled 'Darling, it's not done."
"Would you speak to someone else that way?"
Draco kissed her. "No, but we'll talk about this next year. For right now, just relax." A knock came at the door and Narcissa poked her head in. "Darlings!"
"Good morning, Mother." She came and kissed them both, followed by her husband. Lucius looked bemused, frowning slightly. "Is something the matter, Father?"
Lucius sat in the chair beside the bed. "I just had a conversation with Gregory, actually. He's not good with figurative speech, is he?"
Draco shook his head, grinning. "No, best just tell him what's on your mind."
Narcissa summoned the vanity stool and sat down on, taking Hermione's hand in hers. "Now, love, was everything all right?"
Hermione nodded and sipped from the mug the smirking Leesy had pressed into her hands. 'They all do it' she realised with a start, and wondered whether she, too, would smirk before long. Unable to stall any longer, she put the mug on the tray and said "Yes, Mother, it was fine."
Narcissa tilted her head and gave both children a preemptive Look to dissuade lying. "He wasn't too rough, was he?"
Hermione could feel blood gently staining her cheeks. "No, Mother."
"Are you very sore, darling?"
"A—a little."
"Well, we'll have you take something to help and you'll spend today resting, all right?"
Hermione started to protest that she felt fine, but Draco squeezed her hand and hissed 'It's tradition."
"He's quite right, love. It's tradition that you spend the next few days getting your strength back. And anyway, I need to start explaining the running of the manor."
Hermione relaxed slightly, knowing there was something useful for her to do, and Draco gave her a very gentle poke in the side, which she took to be an I-told-you-so. She narrowed her eyes and resolved to poke back at first opportunity, perhaps on one of Draco's plentiful tickle spots.
"And how is Leesy working out?"
"She seems a bit…high strung. And she and Tibby don't seem to like one another very much, but I'm sure she's very nice."
Lucius snorted. "She's certainly intense, isn't she?"
"Mightn't it hurt Tibby's feelings, though, to replace her this way?"
"Oh, she isn't being replaced. They'll serve you jointly." Hermione nodded, mentally praying this was a sadistic joke or something. Lucius' face was smooth and calm and she knew, looking, that it was not.
Draco was quite enjoying the prospect of watching this play out. He hoped this experience would help his little girl get passed this tendency to sentimentalize the stupid creatures. Perhaps once she'd experienced how petty and obnoxious they could be, she would be willing to see he'd had the right of it all along.
Narcissa patted his hand as well. "What about you, my darling? Was everything all right for you?"
"Yes, Mother."
"You didn't have any…problems?"
Draco looked away. "No, no problems."
"And you're quite sure it's consummated?"
"Yes, Mother."
Narcissa nodded and called for an elf to bring them food, the first meal they would officially share as a family. As they ate fruit and bread and drank pumpkin juice, Lucius amused them all with a recounting of all the gossip they'd missed in their self imposed exile.
As the elves were cleaning up, Lucius turned and said offhandedly to Hermione "I wonder if you'd mind doing me a favour, Hermione?"
"What's that, Father?"
"My own dear father left a large number of books in storage in the garret, I wonder whether you'd help me catalogue them and find places for them all. Being stuck in the house as we are, I thought it might prove diverting."
Hermione's face lit up. Narcissa, watching her face, noticed suddenly how pretty Hermione was when she was happy. Draco was smiling too, and leant over to murmur something in Hermione's ear which made her blush and giggle.
"I think Hermione likes the idea, dearest."
Lucius chuckled. "I daresay. After the three days rest, understood? And only if you've your strength back."
"Yes, Father."
Narcissa rose and smiled at her husband. "I think Hermione and I shall go and get started. Is an hour enough time to get ready, love?"
Hermione somehow kept a straight face. "I think so, Mother."
The adults drifted out and they were alone again. Hermione turned to Draco, smiled like an angel, and promptly pounced him, tickling his sides and belly and arms. Draco squirmed, breathlessly making all sorts of threats, until he finally overpowered her and tickled her back, flailing and promising revenge of her own.
Gasping and chuckling, the two of them collapsed on the bed, finally done, and held one another tightly, still grinning like naughty children. After a few moments, Draco sighed regretfully and, picking his panting little girl up and his wand, carried her into the bathroom.
The tub was huge, a massive slab of marble carved deep enough to comfortable seat half a dozen adults. Setting Hermione down on the mat, a single flick of the wand set the tub to filling, and they started to undress.
Tibby, having heard the water, appeared at once and started to undress Hermione, chattering happily. She literally could not have been more thrilled that everything had worked out the way she'd wanted it to. And soon there would be a rosy little baby for her to love and care for! Her life could not possibly have been any better.
Unfortunately, Leesy chose that moment to assert her right as young Madam's maid. "Tibby is leaving now, Leesy undresses young Madam."
"Tibby is explaining this earlier. Tibby is helping because is being young Madam's maid first."
Hermione, not intending to stand semi-nude for indefinite amounts of time while the elves fought it out. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood straighter and said very loudly "That's enough."
The elves stopped at once. "This is absurd. There is no reason for you to argue about this. You can both help, and if it doesn't stop' she groped for an appropriate threat 'I'll send you both out and do everything myself."
The gasps of protest and horror resounded around the room, Tibby bawling that young Madam was much too fragile and Leesy sobbing that she'd never forgive herself if young Madam strained something doing too much.
Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded approvingly as Hermione continued. "Tibby will help me bathe. Leesy, please go and set out my clothing, and ask Draco's elf to do his as well."
They climbed into tub. It had been a very long time, and Draco studied Hermione with pleasure, noticing how well she'd filled out. There were still scars, of course, purple and faint against her skin, but they could be fixed in time.
Hermione studied him straight back. His Dark Mark had faded to a sort of vague grey shape on his left forearm, the edges as faded and blurred as an old tattoo. Draco noticed her scrutiny and felt heat in his face. "Does it bother you?"
Hermione looked him in the eye. "I can't say I like it, but I understand why you did what you did."
"Is that what you and Father were talking about the day we came here?"
"Yes." She looked away, feeling as though it had been a thousand years before. She wondered whether Draco ever felt old like this—as though the war had drained their youth from them like crushing a milksap pod to get the juice out.
He patted her shoulder. "He's good at helping sort of feelings, isn't he?"
She nodded. "Sometimes I think you read my thoughts."
He laughed and slid a wet hand down her neck, pulling her closer by a steamy shoulder. "I'd be scared. Too much there to sort through."
Hermione giggled and moved closer, feeling bold enough to press her lips to his neck. His skin tasted hot and damp and musky. She reached down with her other hand and grasped him, nibbling lightly on his neck as she did.
Draco gasped. "God! Granger!" But he didn't dare let it go further. He took the wayward hand in his and pressed it to his lips. "Not now, love, we're expected." And deep down, he felt a little guilt. He really shouldn't be allowing her to take charge of these things. It was one thing for him to occasionally release her bad humours, but he couldn't keep letting her pollute herself.
Hermione obediently stood and let herself be wrapped in a thick towel. She stepped out as Tibby dried her off and oiled her skin to keep it soft. Tibby having charmed her hair dry, they set off for the bedroom.
Leesy had set out a complete set of morning clothes. Slate grey robes, a high necked dress, stockings, a camisole, a pair of old fashioned drawers, thin leather shoes. Draco dropped his towel and stepped behind one of the dressing screens provided, ordering his valet to let him dress himself.
Leesy held out the drawers and Hermione, blushing, slowly undraped the towel. She started to fold it when Leesy said "We is doing that. Young Madam is letting it fall."
Hermione obeyed and tried to take the drawers from Leesy. Leesy was having none of it. Smiling, she tightened her grip and Hermione, resigned, stepped in. She wasn't precisely thrilled at the idea of wearing knickers like this; the last time, Draco had put her knees to her chest and taken that damned hairbrush to her.
Leesy helped her into the silk stockings and then slid the camisole over her head. "Leesy? Don't I need a bra?"
Leesy blinked. "What is that being? Leesy is not knowing 'bra'."
Hermione felt her stomach jump a little. "Tibby? Please go and get a bra from my things in Mother's room. Subtly, if you would."
Tibby returned a moment later, holding a coral coloured bra in her hand. For once, both Leesy and Tibby were in agreement. "Young Madam is wearing this?"
"Yes, most muggle women wear them every day."
Leesy took the bra and examined it, frowning. A strange thing, all bulges and lines. She'd find a way to throw it out. Tibby was apparently thinking the same thing, because she gave young Madam a smile and said "Camisole is being much better. Softer, too, and cleaner. Young Madam is wanting to be clean?"
"Yes, of course, but it never bothered you before, Tibby."
Tibby nodded. "Young Madam was not knowing better, and not having anything else, anyway. Now there is being an alternative, and young Madam is being married lady. Is not fitting young Madam should keep wearing bad muggle clothes."
"They aren't bad, they're just--"
Draco poked his head out from his dressing screen. "You won't win this. Talk to Mother instead, she'll help you."
Hermione nodded and raised her arms to be helped into a light summer dress, a light yellow cotton with three quarters lengths sleeves and a light skirt. Next was her robes, a pair in soft, light silk, cut in a vee. Hermione was surprised by how pretty she felt.
Draco apparently thought so as well, because he gave her a wink when he saw her. "Very good, Granger. Hermione, I mean."
"Malfoy' she giggled a little ' you can still call me Granger, you know."
He shook his head. "Have to get out of the habit. Else I'll do it in public and cause a scandal."
"As though we haven't already."
"Mmm, we're rebels, certainly. Hurry, precious, Leesy's going to do your hair."
Hermione obediently sat at the vanity. Leesy took up pins, oil and comb, and in record time had done a very pretty bun. When she picked up an alabaster bowl of face powder and a brush, Hermione rebelled. "Oh, no, no makeup. It isn't me."
Leesy frowned. "It is being tradition."
"I'll talk to Mother, Leesy. I really don't care for the way it feels."
Leesy sighed loudly but put down the brush. Giving Draco a peck goodbye, the witch and her elf (even madder than Tibby, she thought with some trepidation) set off for Mother's room. They were bidden in at once by a surprised Narcissa, who was only partly done herself.
"Gracious, that was quick. I thought you'd be another twenty minutes at least."
"No, Mother. Tibby and Leesy were both great helps to me." Leesy began to pound her head against the stone hearth with pleasure, sobbing rapturously about the wondrous kindness of the young Madam. Hermione squirmed and said quickly "Leesy, stop! I'd like some pumpkin juice."
Leesy leapt up to get it, and Narcissa smiled. "Good, love. You're learning. How have you managed them so far?"
Hermione told her about the scene in the bathroom and Narcissa laughed aloud. "Oh, my, that must have been priceless. What else happened?"
"Well, we had a bit of dispute, because I'm not comfortable going about braless, and Draco suggested I speak to you."
"Bra-less?"
"It's an undergarment. Muggle women wear them…up top…every day. Well, mostly. Both Tibby and Leesy were very upset that I wanted to wear one."
Narcissa called Tibby to show the one she had fetch, looking at it with distaste. " You actually wore this thing?"
"Yes, of course. Didn't you see when you lifted my shirt up that day?"
Narcissa thought back. "Hmm, now that you mention…I suppose I thought it a posture support or something. I never imagined it went all the way round. Why do you wish to wear it?"
Hermione considered. "I've always done. Muggles find it unattractive when women—bounce."
"You oughtn't be doing anything that would cause that, but let's make a compromise, shall we? While in traditional dress, you wear the usual smallclothes. While in muggle dress, you may wear one of these things. Is that fair?"
Hermione thought this was the best she could have hoped for and nodded. "Very. Thank you, Mother."
"You're welcome, love. Now, about this soreness, how severe is it?"
"Not very, Mother."
Narcissa eyed her. It was said muggles had a much higher pain tolerance than wizards, and especially than witches. She wondered if Hermione had that problem and decided she likely did, and it was up to her to retrain the poor thing.
"Now, love, I think the first thing is to discuss the house rules. You know the basic ones, but running a manor of this size is largely dependent on doing things a certain way. The first and most important one is that there are no secrets between us. Do you understand that? Truly?"
"I—yes. Draco and I have discussed it."
Narcissa didn't doubt they had. "Speaking of which, love, I've been wanting to ask you about that night Draco found you in the library. What were you doing there all by yourself, at that hour?"
"Researching something Harry needed. A potion, and Madam Pince never minded if I stayed late, so long as I didn't make a mess."
"You must have been scared to death, all alone in the dark like that." Narcissa delicately knit her brow; she was worse than appalled that Hermione had done a thing like that, and believed a smacking had been well merited, but she felt a pang for the poor unselfish love, who'd braved her fear in a well meaning but totally unsuitable manner.
"It wasn't so bad." Hermione had loved it, honestly. The warm darkness, the smells of leather and old parchment and ink, the small skittering sounds of mice in the walls.
"And curfew was what time?" Perhaps the girl's fear hadn't gotten this severe until after the war. She made a mental note to ask her son and pushed forward.
"Ten o'clock. I rather fell asleep and Draco--"
"Found you, fortunately, and took you in hand to see that nothing worse happened. As unpleasant as what he did was, it could have been ever so much worse. Draco tells us you fought him quite strenuously, that first time."
Hermione blushed. "Well, I was a little surprised to say the least."
"I imagine. How did you handle it after?"
Hermione was positive her face would never regain its normal colour again. Looking at her hands, she cleared her throat and said "You mean directly, or after everything was done?"
"Both."
"Well right after I was fairly upset, but later I suppose I felt better." What was she supposed to say? Hermione had no idea how to handle this; she couldn't precisely mention the various things Draco had done to her that night.
"And Draco helped you to calm down, and explained why you needed to be punished?" It was literally unthinkable to Narcissa that someone would chastise another person and not finish by helping them feel better. She lived by the maxim that while it was sometimes necessary to punish, it was equally necessary to see that the chastised understood they were forgiven after.
"Well, after I'd got under control, we talked about it and then he walked me back to my dormitory."
" Did it help you change your behavior?"
Hermione squirmed, eyes averted. "Not initially. I was fairly angry he'd done a thing like that. But after a while I saw things differently."
Narcissa nodded, satisfied and decided to press on. "Very good, love. You felt shy but trusted me enough to be truthful. Father will be so pleased."
Hermione found a smile somewhere and thanked her mother in law, incredibly relieved this line of questioning had ended. She had scant time to be grateful; Narcissa carefully detailed the expectations they had for Hermione, beginning with the many small niceties of dress and deportment that ruled Malfoy manor.
"We eat breakfast at eleven, so I shall expect you to come here no later than quarter to. That isn't too early, love, is it?"
Hermione grinned, thinking it a joke. "Not at all. I'm usually up by eight thirty or so."
Narcissa frowned. "Truly? Why so early, precious?"
"I don't need much sleep, I suppose. And Draco's generally up before I am."
"Yes, he likes very early morning flights. But ladies rarely rise before ten AM. And why do you think you needn't much sleep?"
Hermione wondered how to make this sound better than it was. "I always had something to do, Mother. There wasn't any time for--"
"Adequate rest?" Narcissa gave the girl a firm Look and raised her eyebrows, gratified at the slight blush which stained her cheeks. "From now on, I expect you'll stay in bed until a reasonable hour, unless Draco takes you flying, understood? And you're both to go to sleep at a sane time, as well."
'After breakfast, you'll come back here with me and we'll start to fill in the gaps in your knowledge of wizarding culture. Dinner is at one, and then you'll nap from two to four. You and Draco will spend time together from four to seven thirty, and then supper is at eight. After supper, we'll spend time together as a family, and retire by midnight. Does that sound reasonable?"
"Yes, Mother." Hermione felt slightly overwhelmed and Narcissa, with her sharp eyes, saw it at once. Taking the girl's hand, she gave it a pat and smiled comfortingly. "It's not so much to remember, darling, I promise. And we shall all help you, shan't we?"
The rest of the day went well, and so there is no need to stay at Malfoy manor at the nonce; though of course, that will soon change. Rather, go far from the women, safe as they were in the muted tastefulness of the ancestral rooms, to London, where a ragtag band was stirring. They'd left the park a few days previously, when it became obvious that the house was impregnable through normal means, and it pleased one of their number not at all.
Cursing, Greyback paced the small parlour. There was a bedroom down the hall, and from it issued the high, shrill screams that bespoke an interrogation. He didn't care. Growling, he pounded the wall and then paced a bit more, bitterly angry they were delayed.
The door flew open and Bellatrix strode briskly inside, wiping her blood smeared hands fastidiously on something that looked like a man's shirt. Ignoring him, she crossed the room and murmured in her husband's ear a few moments. Rodolphus sighed and said "Only for you, Bellatrix."
"Thank you, Rodolphus." He left his easy chair and walked the small corridor to the bedroom, the screams increasing in pitch and volume as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. Greyback swore more forcefully and clutched his head. He'd got a bottle of muggle firewhiskey the night before, and his head still rang with it, on top of everything else.
The screams ceased and Rodolphus, looking smug, came back into the room. He clicked his fingers for an elf and was annoyed when he remembered there were none. Really, what kind of savages fed their own fire and made their own meals? Huffing, he dropped another log into the fireplace and felt a tinge of nostalgia for Malfoy manor, with its legion of elves and cool, plush quiet.
That maniac his wife seemed to have adopted came toward him. "Well?" His teeth were still stained with blood from his last meal, noticed Rodolphus with distaste. "Go and see for yourself, Fenrir. I daresay the man is quite eager to speak to you."
Greyback shoved his way through the small crowd emerging from the room and made his way to the quivering form which had been thrown onto the mattress. He lifted the old man by his lapels, seeing his scrawny throat working with terror.
"Well, old man?"
"I'll do it." Hamm began to sob. He was one hundred and five and certain his heart couldn't take the strain. He was an apothecary, not even political, and his wife, rest her sweet soul, had been muggleborn. But none of that mattered now; all that mattered was surviving the night.
Greyback nodded. Hiding at the old man's had been a perfect plan. By day, he could run his shop and no one would be the wiser; at night, he would work on a number of special projects for the Death Eaters.
He let George Hamm drop to the mattress again and pulled up the chair. "Tell me how it can be done."
Hamm forced himself to speak slowly and calmly. His own life was incidental, but these animals, these monsters had threatened his son and daughters as well, his little grandchildren and great grandchildren. He gave the wolfman, with his deathly smell and blackened fingernails, a level look and explained.
"I can do it, I believe. I'd need a quantity of the wolfsbane potion, not to mention several rare ingredients."
Greyback waved impatiently. "Yes, yes, whatever. And it will make it so we can transform at will?"
"Likely. It will be dangerous, though. A strain on your bodies."
Greyback's smile was a ghastly rictus, and stank of the charnel house. "That's for us to worry about. You'll start tomorrow."
"Yes, after the shop has closed."
"And I want it in three weeks."
The old man's eyes widened. "Impossible! It'll takes months just to--"
"I'd do it, old man. That granddaughter of yours is looking quite…toothsome, wouldn't you say?"
George Hamm began to cry again, and Greyback rose. Inside him, his wolf stretched and grinned hungrily, remembering the sweet young female he had waiting for him, and also the male that had defiled her, imagined the taste of his heart's blood. He was getting hard and he ignored it, pleased that soon he could call forth his beast whenever he wanted.
He scrounged paper and quill and wrote a short note to his second, to assemble the band in one of their usual places and await his orders. 'Do smarten up, brothers. If all goes according to plan, we'll be attending a ball within the moon.'
And he laughed to himself, and went off to find a female, and pretend it was it was she.
