Never thought I'd update, did you? Muhahaha… If you don't feel like taking two minutes out of your life to review this story then please, don't read it. If I don't get enough reviews I will not update. Now that I have read Deathly Hallows I've decided to leave out the characters Jo killed off. That includes Remus Lupin. Sorry. :c
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and it's rightful characters belong JK Rowling. Not me.
In spite of her outward show of indifference toward Malfoy, stepping out of that cubicle had been nearly one of the hardest things Hermione had ever done. She truly couldn't imagine what he must be going through, though she knew it must be extraordinarily confusing especially for him. As much of a useless prick as he was, when Malfoy had fallen into that chair looking as pathetic as he did, Hermione had to bite her tongue and turn away. At times, her maternal instincts were quite strong (an attribute she had picked up from Molly Weasley over the years). Though, she was sure if Malfoy had been given a choice between eating a live spider or a motherly hug from Hermione Granger, he would gobble up the spindly creature in the blink of an eye. 'But really,' she huffed, 'he doesn't deserve such sympathy in the first place.'
Hermione's absent thoughts beset her as she stood in the stuffed elevator, an array of violet-colored memo airplanes agitating the space above her head. One came rather close to her ear forcing her to swat it away. Her meeting with Amos Diggory and the others was scheduled for ten minutes from now and she would have been there purposefully early by now if Draco hadn't stopped her in the office.
After the elevator took everyone to their destination, Hermione was left alone in the magical lift, which promptly and much to her alarm, instead of taking her to Level 4, took a detour to, "Level 2: The Atrium," stated the automated female voice coolly. Just as she was about to punish the lift by jamming her fist into the button console the oak paneled doors slid open revealing a pale-haired woman with her nose upturned in the most superior fashion. She regarded Hermione with an indignant sniff and stepped into the deviant elevator, sidling the furthest distance away from Hermione as she could manage in the small space. She reached out a pale-skinned hand and tapped the golden button labeled "Level 4: Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
Hermione hemmed giving the woman a side glance. "Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," she said politely, but only because it was necessary.
Narcissa Malfoy glanced at her in a similar but foul way and said sweetly, "And to you, Miss Granger. What a delight it is to finally meet you in person. I've heard many things about you," her tone leaning a little more to the tart side.
"All good, I hope," retorted Hermione, still not looking at the older woman. The elevator's even voice indicated that they had reached their destination and once again the oak doors slid open. The two looked at each other for the first time. Hermione had to admit that Narcissa was beautiful. Her graying hair and lightly lined face only added to her refined appearance making her look every inch the aristocrat she was, but it was hard to appreciate such beauty when it was forcing you to look up into its nostrils.
Nevertheless, Hermione suddenly felt very aware of how carelessly she had piled her disobedient hair onto the top of her head this morning. She was sure that every bobby pin she had forced into the frizzy nest was visible to Narcissa's scrutiny. Hermione inclined her head motioning for the other woman to exit before her. "I believe this is our stop."
Narcissa nodded then hesitated, a sneer creeping over her lips, "'Our stop'? Whatever do you mean, girl?"
Hermione deftly placed a hand over the elevator door to stop its smooth shutting. "Oh, they didn't tell you? I've been assigned to your husband's case." Narcissa gulped. Hermione noticed. "I hope it won't be any inconvenience to you."
Narcissa locked eyes with Hermione. "Not at all," she said and walked calmly through the oak lift doors.
Inside of the door labeled "Lycanthrope Victim Counseling and Family Planning" the meeting had started. Amos Diggory sat at the head of the long mahogany table that's surface showed much wear and tear. Literally, there were long gashes that looked to be made by vicious sharp claws and teeth. The wooden paneled walls also bore the same frightening marks. The whole room held an ominous aura that made the air heavy with something uninviting and evil. It's haunted past was so obvious a lingering howl could almost be heard in the uncomfortable silence. Hermione shuddered, reminded of the night she and Harry had first seen Remus transform in the Forbidden Forest. She could almost feel the Time Turner's weight around her neck again.
Hermione caught a glimpse of what might have been a brief, sad crumple to Narcissa's mouth. 'Must be thinking about how her furniture will fare after the first full moon,' Hermione mused inwardly, half jokingly, half not. The table could have seated as many as eight people but harbored only herself, Mrs. Malfoy and Diggory. She felt oddly small in her sturdy wooden chair. Now that the three of them were in their places, Diggory spoke at last.
"Welcome to Lycanthrope Victim Counseling and Family Planning, everyone. I am Amos Diggory, Director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." He offered his hand over the corner of the table to Narcissa. She obliged, shaking the man's hand gingerly. "Please let me begin by expressing my deepest condolences to you, Mrs. Malfoy. Gaining a werewolf into a family can be of the hardest things one can do. We only wish to make this awful ordeal a bit less difficult on you and your son."
Hearing that, she let go of his hand at once, snatching her's away as if it had been burned. "Sir, I assure you that the Malfoy family can handle this obstacle just like we have anything else. I am not willing to accept your pity, Mr. Diggory," she stated with a transparent mask of confidence. Her hands shook softly with either fear or rage, though her tone would never give away the true meaning. Hermione was starting to feel a little unsure of how to treat the woman--to show her sympathy or treat her like the stubborn witch she was. Her warring emotions reminded her of how she had felt towards Draco just minutes before.
Ruffled, Diggory went on, running his abandoned hand through his thinning hair. "In this meeting room I like to create a safe environment for our clients. Here you can speak freely about your concerns and feelings about the transformations your husband will be facing." His small speech sounded flat and bitter through grated teeth while he glared Narcissa with contempt. Sensing the rising tension, Hermione cut in.
"Mr. Diggory, when do you think Lucius will be well enough to attend these meetings himself?" she asked, glancing at both of them. "Shouldn't counseling be given to the victim who is directly affected?"
Narcissa's glare flicked to Hermione in an instant.
The older woman's voice was quiet and cold, hurt, even. "Do you think my son and I are not directly affected by this?" Hermione gasped, realizing how inconsiderate she must have sounded, but it was too late. What's said was said. "As I mentioned earlier, I have heard many things about you, Miss Granger, but I never heard anything about you being so stupid." If looks could kill, Hermione would have been struck dead on the spot.
"I'm sorry, I—"
"Please, excuse me." Narcissa murmured and stood from her chair. She left the room and shut the door quietly behind her.
Both Amos and Hermione stared after Narcissa with their mouths agape. Placing both her hands over her face, Hermione let out a guilty sigh.
"That went wonderfully," she said in a muffled voice.
"Perhaps we can set up another meeting for next week, Miss Granger?" But Hermione was already getting up. She opened the heavy, wooden door with some difficulty and poked her head around the corner. Narcissa could be seen sobbing into her son's shoulder some ways down the hall. Had Draco been waiting there for her all along? The Malfoy family was always full of surprises.
"Mother, don't cry. Please," Draco muttered into his mother's hair. He looked over her shuddering shoulder, straight into Hermione's eyes and glared. No words were needed when she looked back at him. "What have you done to her?" were clearly his thoughts. Hermione stepped back into the dim room and away from the disappointed face of Draco. She sighed again. Today is going to be a long day.
