Chapter Two–Good Manners
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.
A/N: I might have used the F-word in this chapter. I hope no one minds. ;) Oh, and Voldemort is dead! Just thought that might be important to mention. And there was a war, basically occurring like the one in DH, but the details aren't important to this story. Hope you like it!
"And what am I getting out of this?"
"Well, for one you get to spend time with me," Draco answered but Hermione just rolled her eyes, "And you get to piss my parents off, which I know you've always wanted to do."
Hermione stood across from Draco in her office at work. It was the day of their dinner with the Malfoys and she was seriously anxious. "Piss them off?"
"Just be you, I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Err—thanks?" She stammered before fidgeting with an old quill.
"Oh and there are some rules," he continued, "Public displays of affection, calling me by my first name, and you've got to really get into it."
"God Malfoy, this is totally mental. What says I won't back out?"
"You're Granger: you aren't going anywhere."
"Really, is that what you think?"
"No. That's what I know," he taunted, "I always get what I want. Remember that Granger. Always."
"Shove it. You are such an arrogant prat!"
"But you love it. Why else would you be going through with this?"
She exhaled in annoyance, "I never said I would."
"But you will," he retorted before running a masculine hand through his blonde locks.
"Malfoy, are you seriously going to have this discussion with me?"
"It's not much of a discussion. Just a disagreement that I happen to be winning."
"I am not going to your parents' tonight. End of story." she cried, throwing her hands in the air.
"I'll be outside your office at six. Don't be late."
"Don't worry, Granger. It'll be fine." Malfoy scoffed as he pounded on his parents' door. He was clad in black slacks, a white button up shirt and a green tie that matched Hermione's knee length dress.
"It better be," currently Draco and Hermione were situated outside the Malfoy Manor, Draco's arm wrapped purposely around her waist. He considered how it seemed to fit perfectly. The door creaked open to reveal a house elf, his ears slightly drooping.
"Master's son! You are expected in the dining hall." The elf ushered them inside hastily. Draco and Hermione followed the distraught little bugger all the way through the manor, stopping outside a set of elegant double doors. The house elf scurried away before Hermione could thank him.
"Is it necessary to have such a large house?"
"It's not mine. Mine is smaller."
"Sure it is," she muttered as the doors opened. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were seated at a rather long table: Lucius at the head and Narcissa on his right. The room was decorated in shades of green with a gaudy chandelier hanging in the center. The table was dark, as was the room.
"Son, glad to see you are on time." His father hissed, sticking out his hand to be shaken. "And this must be Hermione."
Hermione managed a weak smile before turning to Draco's mother, "Hello," she then shook both of their hands. Why were they so formal? She instantly felt pity for Draco as they took their seats at the table. The atmosphere has slowly transformed into an awkward silence.
It seemed to last forever until the brittle and shrill voice of Mrs. Malfoy ended it, "So how long have you two been together?"
Draco must have noticed the sudden flight of panic in Hermione's eyes. He coughed gently before swiftly stating the facts, "Oh, a week or two," he noticed his mother's eyebrows rise so he continued; "It was love at first sight, or second if you count our Hogwarts days. I was thrilled when I found out I was transferring to her Department at the Ministry." Hermione smiled before looking over to Draco. He grinned back as he leant over and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione considered how his mother stiffened her posture and his father averted their eyes. Boy, they were really old fashion. Even more than she first thought.
"So what are your future plans, Hermione?" Lucius questioned. Hermione silently begged this wasn't some sort of trap. Draco insisted that she remain oblivious to the possibility of marriage when speaking with his parents.
"Well, I'll continue to work at the Ministry, hopefully—"
"Not career plans," Narcissa interjected, "Other plans."
Hermione glanced over to Draco before placing her hand firmly on his, "I figure two or three children, a nice home, and a beautiful husband." She accidentally locked eyes with Draco while uttering the last phrase and couldn't seem to let go. Silver. Sharp, distant silver, sending chills down her spine.
"Marriage?" Lucius continued, "So you and Draco have discussed things, I see?"
"Father," Draco coughed, "Way to ruin a decent surprise,"
Hermione's mind began to race. This was where her acting skills had to come into play. "Draco, love, what are you talking about?"
He smirked slightly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet container. With elegance and poise he knelt down on the ground and took Hermione's hand in his. "Hermione Jane Granger, will you marry me?"
She couldn't say no, could she? Hermione felt a decent smile form on her face as she muttered a joyous, "Yes," and he placed the ring on her finger, stood up and took her in his arms. Draco fought the sudden impulse to kiss her.
"You're positive she isn't just in it for the money?"
"Lucius, that's unnecessary. Don't ruin his moment."
"Quiet, Narcissa, this isn't even slightly convincing." He bellowed. "Draco may I have a word?"
"Father, I—" Draco was at a loss for words as he glanced down at Hermione. He saw such worry on her face, those brown eyes searching for something in his. He didn't want to leave her, not now at least, "Later, please?"
Lucius reluctantly agreed; contempt on the thought that "later" would give him more time to form a beneficial argument.
"I love him," Hermione murmured before tucking one of Draco's bangs the gel hadn't captured behind his ear, "I really do,"
"Sure you do," Lucius muttered viciously, "Narcissa will help with the wedding plans. I'm sure you two will set up appropriate meetings with her."
They both nodded, though Hermione with more enthusiasm. She tried to appear happy but her composure was wearing down, "May I use the bathroom?"
"Yes, dear." Narcissa instantly replied, "I can get one of our house elves to show you the way—"
"That won't be necessary, Mother. I'll take her there."
He saw his mother swallow hard before nodding, "Just don't get lost," she squeaked with a smirk.
Draco led Hermione out of the room by the waist. When they were out of earshot Hermione began to panic, "Draco Malfoy, do you have any idea what you've gotten us into?"
"Shh," he hissed before opening the nearest door and pushing her in. It appeared to be a bathroom, though rather large. "I don't want them to hear us." She exhaled before leaning her head against the wall. He hesitantly pulled her into an embrace. "It'll be fine, Hermione, it really will. But you aren't doing a very good job."
"Excuse me?" she scoffed, "I just agreed to marry you."
"But you've got to be over the top. They're very old fashion, if you haven't noticed. Please, just get on their nerves so they back out of this whole thing."
"Malfoy, I doubt that'll happen," she snapped before looking up at him. Their current position should be considered awkward, though neither of them felt like moving. Hermione had somehow wound up against the wall, Draco's hands resting firmly on her waist, and her hands fiddling with the back of his hair. "They're your parents. I don't want to get stuck marrying you."
"I'm not that bad. You have to admit, I'm a lot better than when we graduated." He added with a smirk. There was a faint knock on the door and Draco's eyes bulged.
"Hermione, dear, are you alright?" It was his mother. His bloody mother. But Draco quickly developed a plan.
He pushed his body against her as he recalled that the door remained unlocked, "Draco, what are you doing?" she muttered.
"Go along with it," he managed between clenched teeth. "If she opens the door kiss me."
"Draco, are you in there with her?" His mother's voice suddenly became impatient. They heard the doorknob turn and the door creak open. Draco reluctantly pushed his lips against Hermione's in one rush of panic. Hermione had no choice but to oblige by kissing him back. She assumed his mother would be standing behind them, her mouth agape, but instead Narcissa quietly backed out of the bathroom, unable to ruin what she suspected as her son's happiness. Draco struggled to stop as he kissed her some more. Her hands rested on his shoulders. He didn't know what he was doing and he definitely didn't know why. But she kept kissing him and he kept kissing her.
When they stopped she looked up at him with the most frightening stare he had ever seen. Her nostrils flared, her eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open. He saw such confusion in her eyes that all he wanted to do was fix it.
"Get the fuck off me, Malfoy."
"Fine," was all he could manage as he backed away. She skated past him and towards the door. He followed her back to the dinner table. It seemed their plates had been cleared. Now a cup of custard sat lonely in each of their places.
"What took so long?" his father questioned.
"We—err—got lost," was Draco's hesitant reply as they took their seats. Narcissa seemed rather at ease, contrary to how he believed she would react. Hopefully she would mention what she saw. He knew his father would dislike it.
"I hope you two enjoy the custard, it's lemon."
"It looks wonderful, Mother."
"You should consider house elves, son. They really are beneficial. And that house of yours has to go. It is far too small if you are seriously considering a family." Lucius shot a disapproving look towards Hermione when she glanced at Draco.
'Small?' Hermione thought, 'Draco Malfoy with a small house?'
"It isn't that bad, Father. And I still refuse to have house elves. Cooking has become a good way for me to get my mind off things."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well I cook for myself. You know? Still using magic, but it keeps my hands busy. Work is stressful and—"
"Draco looks amazing when he's cooking. Remember that time in the kitchen, love?" Hermione interjected. He smiled as a reply and scooted his chair closer.
"How could I forget?" Draco added playfully while draping his arm around her shoulders.
"You do know our views on celibacy, correct?" Lucius sneered. "I will not have you disrupt a long tradition among our family. And here you are—tainting our very blood. You're children will be half bloods! They'll be filthy. Have I taught you nothing?"
"Do not call my future children, your damn grandchildren, that. Hermione's smarter than any fucking pureblood. Respect her, and my choices, or I will not hesitate to leave."
"Oh, and then what? You won't have our money. And then she'll leave you, of course."
"Father, have you forgotten the extremely decent sum of money in my vault at Gringots? Surely you haven't. Hermione is important to me. No way in hell I'll give her up for you. And don't worry, we haven't slept together yet."
"Damn it, Draco!" His father bellowed as he stood. "This is uncalled for. I will speak to you in the other room, now."
"Fine," he huffed and then leant down to kiss her on the cheek, "I'll be right back, love."
Hermione surrendered a smile and a wink before he followed his father into an adjacent room. Hermione had been severely apprehensive regarding being alone with Narcissa, but as the situation presented itself she suddenly went calm. Narcissa sat across from her with a pointed face and a nose reminiscent of Draco. She didn't speak at first, she just examined Hermione.
"How many children did you say you wanted?"
Hermione was caught by surprise yet easily recalled her previous answer, since it was the truth, "Two or three, preferably."
"Hm," Narcissa sighed. "I always wanted a large family. Four or five children. But Lucius decided Draco was enough."
Hermione laughed, "And he can be quite the handful sometimes. Stubborn and difficult, but still he remains poised and elegant, which I suppose he gets from you." She smiled at the thought of Draco growing up. But she couldn't picture him here. "And even when you want to disagree with him you can't. It's almost impossible," she had no idea where she was getting this stuff.
"And you've only been with him for two weeks?"
Try two days. "Yes. But it seems like I've known him forever. He's so different from when we went to school."
"During the war he began to change, he refused the Dark Mark. He refused to be evil. I was surprised when Lucius accepted this new side of him. But I suppose he had too, after Voldemort died he had no other choice. Draco changed. There is a dominant, stronger side of him now."
Hermione smiled. She had no idea why. But she smiled. Maybe because Draco did seem rather strong. He did seem new. 'But he is still an arrogant prat' she reminded herself. "I hope your husband isn't too hard on him. The transition at work has been rather stressful for him."
"Father, please!" Draco shouted. "I fucking love her. I don't care about what you say and what you plan on—"
"Here," His father shoved a piece of parchment at him. "That is the part of the will that requires you to marry. Read it. It has some interesting conditions. Including a child. Better be expecting by your one year anniversary," he teased, "You're a fool, Draco. First you deny the Dark Mark. You deny all that I have built up. And then you bring her into this home expecting acceptance. Well this is the most you'll get from me. She does not deserve you, son. Remember that."
Draco folded up the parchment and placed it in his pocket before turning towards the door. He reentered the room where Hermione and his mother sat. He solemnly announced, "We're going."
Hermione immediately stood up and walked over to him. She leant in close so no one else could hear, "What's wrong?"
"It's fine," he whispered back, "Let's go."
"You can floo if you'd like. Do you have a fireplace at your house, Hermione?" Narcissa barked.
"It's fine. We'll apparate. She's staying at my house tonight, anyway." Draco publicized before grasping Hermione's hand, "Thank you Mother, Father. I'll see you soon."
There was a crack and they landed in Draco's house. "I can't believe them," he groaned, "Such foul, bitter, old—"
"But isn't this what you wanted?" Hermione's voice quivered steadily as she turned to him. "We'll have a fight. We'll have an argument. We'll break up. It'll be fine."
He shook his head and cupped her face in her hands, "In eleven days it'll be final. If we can't figure anything out by then you're stuck. And it'll be entirely my fault."
"Draco," she moaned before resting her forehead against his. "I agreed. Don't blame yourself."
"But he gave me this piece of paper, it has all the requirements and I've got to knock you up before our first anniversary and then—"
"Stop," she commanded as she removed her forehead from his. Hermione wound her arms around his waist for a brief hug before backing away. "Thanks for a wonderful evening." She smiled slightly before readying herself to apparate.
"Wait. It's so lonely here at night. Please stay."