Chapter 4

Everyone else met Imogene's boyfriend at breakfast. But Hermione and Draco ordered room service, on the flimsy excuse that they overslept. Hermione had not. She fell asleep quickly entwined with Draco the night before, but woke at sunrise consumed with dread.

There was no real reason to fear any of this. The worst that could happen was no one would like her. She had dealt with not being liked before. This was not new to her. And she knew her family. They still had to tolerate her, no matter how much Imogene sniffed.

When Draco stumbled out of bed at a much more reasonable time he found her curled in an arm chair, staring out the window with a book in her hand.

"Hermione. What's wrong."

"This is some new form of torture. I should contact work and see if family reunions can be punishable by a stint in Azkaban."

Draco gave Hermione a light kiss. "Have you been thinking about that all morning?"

"I don't belong here," she sighed. "I haven't since McGonagall turned up on my parent's stoop and turned their teacups into turtles."

"Of course you belong here," Draco snapped. "This is your family."

Hermione hunched over. "But what if I don't."

Draco's fingers started to trace patterns on Hermione's scalp.

"You, my love, are going to take a shower. And I will order us room service. And then we will go with your family and you will slay them. Because you are Hermione fucking Granger. You've faced dragons and death and bigots and monsters. You've fought in battles and in courtrooms, and I've never seen your courage falter. And I will be damned if I see you be taken down by a two bit model who's jealous of a life she can't even understand and is so thick that she thinks the best way to flirt with a bloke is by insulting the woman he loves to her face."

Hermione let out a long sigh. "You're right."

"As usual."

She gave him a ghost of a smirk. "No, just this one time." She stood, and kissed Draco soundly.

"I love you," she said. "I'll be out soon," and then she sashayed into the bathroom.

The shower was a luxury. Large and elegantly curved, lined with stone, and supplying a steady stream of perfectly heated water. The soap and shampoo that the hotel had provided were far nicer than the ones that Hermione kept at home, and she allowed herself to forget about her family for a moment, focusing instead on the feel of washing her hair and the scent of lavender. Maybe, just maybe, she would give into Draco's complaints and let him pay for remodeling her bathroom. She couldn't tell him this now, or he'd never stop going on about it. A few weeks down the road, perhaps.

When she had finished her shower and had dressed herself in a simple sundress Draco was in their sitting room There was an enormous spread. Croissants with jam and butter, porridge, fruit, rashers, sausages, and grilled tomatoes. Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee from a silver pot and inhaled the bitter fragrance. This was luxury. She could get used to this. And she could never tell Draco, because then he would ensure she did get used to it. Absurd man.

Draco was already drinking his own coffee, heavily sweetened and with so much cream it appeared tan in color. When Hermione sat next to her, he jumped up, and began dividing the food. Porridge and fruit with rashers for her, the croissants and sausages for him. But there was at least three times as much food here as she could eat.

"These portions are a bit much," said Hermione as she gently stirred cream into her porridge.

"I'm certain they do it to avoid extra work," said Draco. "I can't imagine how they do it without magic."

"You cook without magic at home," Hermione reminded him, nudging him with her bare feet.

"I do?" Draco responded with a cheeky grin. Hermione merely raised her eyebrows at him. "Yes, yes, fine, I do. But that's for two people. Just whack some chicken in the oven and make some rice on the hob. I don't know how they feed hundreds of people without magic."

"There are people who study in school and work for years to learn how to do so," said Hermione, and she took a bite of her porridge. It was divine, exactly what she would have wanted. Judging from the enthusiastic way Draco was eating, he felt the same.

"Is it that hard that you have to study for it? It can't be as hard as transfiguration or- what is it called that you're studying?"

"Public policy."

"It can't be as hard as public policy."

Hermione shrugged. "We're both fairly bright and neither of us have managed to cook anything worth tasting. I think it's harder than you think."

"Pansy managed to learn it," Draco commented.

Hermione frowned. "Why?" She had come to like Pansy now, although it had taken some time. But Pansy came from a rich family that was relatively unaffected by the war, and her father adored her- enough so that even her dating a blood traitor did not affect her inheritance. It was difficult to think of her working as a line cook at a muggle restaurant, even the high end ones that Pansy ended up at.

Draco shrugged. "I think she's bored. And tired of people treating her like a spoiled little rich girl." He paused and a solemn look came in his eyes. "Her mom wants to cut her off."

"Because of Ron?" Hermione was aghast.

Draco nodded. "Apparently her mom thought that it was just something she had to get out of her system. She wasn't counting on her beloved daughter, the product of two great pureblood lines, actually falling in love with a blood traitor."

Hermione sat with that for a while. She had never had to choose between her family and her relationship, and she could only imagine what Pansy was going through.

"So why cooking?"

Draco flashed a bright smile. "She said it's useful, it's fast, and she gets to shout at people and use knives. And no one treats her like she's delicate." Draco paused for a moment and Hermione had to admit the picture made perfect sense. "I think she likes it a lot. She's been talking about opening a magical restaurant- there really aren't very many other than pubs or stuffy pureblood enclaves."

"And if she's running a business then she won't have to rely on her parents for money," Hermione nodded along.

Draco declined to answer. Instead he took an enormous swig of his coffee. "Drink up. We've got another family to deal with."

Hermione groaned. "Of course."

"What do we have today?"

"A turn about the gardens, and taking the water," said Hermione in a bright, posh voice. "Then lunch."

Draco stood and offered Hermione his arm. "Sounds positively Victorian. If Narcissa ever speaks to me again I'll have to send here here. Show her the bright new future of Wizarding luxury."

"Perhaps she could even go to a Nickelodeon."

"What's that?"

"It's a short film."

"Like a show on the telly?"

"Even shorter. Five minutes, maybe ten. Black and white. No sound. She'd find them not too frightening."

"The highest compliment anyone can give," Draco drawled, and he held the door open for Hermione as they left their suite.

Her family was gathered in the lobby, or most of the family. Sonya was fussing with Alex, who had his video games out again and refused to look up. Phillip was talking with his sisters, Bea and Charlotte. Hermione's grandparents were sitting, surveying their family with mild interest. Miranda and Nicholas waved them over.

"So sorry," said Hermione. "I was so exhausted last night that I slept through half of breakfast."

"It's quite alright," said Miranda, but her voice was a bit strained and she was scanning the lobby in a very un-Miranda type way. "You only missed meeting Imogene's boyfriend."

"Not to worry," said Nicholas, and gave a very cheeky wink. "He'll be here for the remainder of the reunion, so you'll have plenty of time to get to know him.'

Miranda sighed. "I don't understand why Imogene decided to bring him. I've only heard about him a handful of times before this weekend. She simply must get over this inferiority complex of hers. I've told her a dozen times."

"But that's her journey she has to make, not yours," Nicholas reminded Miranda, and pulled her close and kissed her hair. "And she's on her way now, so no more about this."

Miranda sighed, then straightened and smiled. She turned and then began to wave. Imogene arrived quickly, followed by a tall, well-built blonde man.

"So sorry to be late," said Imogene, the words ringing with a false sincerity. "Cormac needed me to show him to my- I mean- our room." She gave a small giggle. "Cormac, babe, this is my cousin-"

"Hermione?"

Oh Merlin. It was him- the wavy golden blonde hair, the height, the broad shoulders, the same arrogance, the hot headed nature.

"Hello Cormac," Hermione said, her voice even. She took a deep breath and wondered how many more unpleasant surprises she'd be getting this weekend. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Cormac said, and behind him Imogene blanched. He studied Hermione carefully. "You look good."

Hermione had to force herself not to take a step back. "This is so funny. Imogene said that you two met at a shoot?"

"Oh," Cormac said, and looked back at Imogene. She was silently seething. "Yes, yes, it was a big shoot for Primmark. And I asked that they bring in the hottest girls they could find. And none of the girls were hot enough. So I made them bring in more. And one of those girls was Imogene. Well, I always pride myself on my eye, so I made the photographer shoot the two of us together."

"Then he said," Imogene broke in, very obviously threading her fingers through Cormac's, "two people so attractive should be together for real. And he asked me out to dinner."

"I took her out for dinner at Piedmont for our first date. Have you been?"

"No, not yet," Hermione said politely, her smile straining.

"Well, it was a fantastic date. With a fantastic bird. And then… it kept going. But I don't think that I need to tell you that. Sure you don't want to hear that about your cousin."

"A gentleman never kisses and tells and all that," said Draco dryly. Cormac turned on him and his eyes narrowed.

"Cormac, you remember Draco?" Hermione provided, and sighed internally. She quickly looked around. No one else seemed to be paying attention, which was for the best. She'd prefer to obliviate as few people as possible.

Cormac's eyes narrowed even more. "Malfoy."

"McLaggan." Draco, in return, looked almost bored. He held out his hand, a hand that Cormac stared at for a beat too long before taking it and giving it a short, grudging shake.

"And you're here because?"

"Same reason as you. The tag along."

"Oi," said Nicholas. "That's a bit harsh. What happened to better half?"

Draco laughed. "Words that will never be said about me in regards to Hermione." Draco let his hand fall onto the small of Hermione's back and let it linger there. Hermione gave a gentle smile. Two years of dating Draco had taught her a bit about the power of image. Normally these power plays drove her crazy, but here it felt like a bit of an emergency. Cormac looked like he was about to burst. Then her grandmother stood up.

"As we are all assembled," her reedy voice rang out, "we shall begin our tour of the garden." And the group began to shuffle out into the garden. Hermione grabbed Cormac's sleeve.

"We'll be right there," Hermione said. "I just want to take this moment to catch up."

Draco nodded. Imogene stalled. "I'd love to hear what you have to talk about."

"It'll be boring, babe," Cormac said. "And it'll be five minutes." She hesitated longer, then Miranda swept her arm around Imogene.

"Come on," Miranda said, "Mum will be spare if she sees that we're not with everyone."

Hermione waited until the group and filtered out then crossed her arms and stared at Cormac.

"Why are you here McLaggan?"

"It's good to see you too, Granger. You're looking fit."

"Why are you here?" Hermione repeated.

"Do you know how damaging that is to my ego? You women need to learn to be gentle with men."

"Don't make me repeat myself a third time McLaggan." Hermione warned. Cormac threw his hands up in the air.

"Fine. I'm here because my girlfriend invited me. That's all."

"And your girlfriend just happens to be my cousin?"

"Yes!" Cormac insisted. "I've been working in the muggle world since the war. I barely keep in contact with anyone who's not family. Why is that so hard to believe? Stranger things have happened."

"You know she's a muggle," Hermione warned.

"Oh, I know. You know, she reminded me of you when I first met her. Same determination, same smart mouth. She even looks a little like you."

Hermione ignored that comment. "Again, she's a muggle. You cannot tell her anything. Are you really ready to keep secrets like that from her?"

"That's the thing about muggle girls," Cormac said in an oily voice. "They don't need serious. They don't mind secrets. They're positively flexible. None of this self-loathing, sex-sabatoging, breeding-for-bloodlines bullshit that witches are about. They're happy with a good shag. It's brilliant. That's the real reason that I was told to never mess with them- too much fun."

"She is a person with feelings, McLaggan. Not a toy." Hermione's voice was harsh. "And if you don't treat her like a person I will hex you so hard that you'll never model again."

Cormac drew himself up to his full height. "I am from the clan McLaggan. We have been practicing Magic in Britain for two millennia, much longer than your Norman boy toy. My father is on Wizegmont. You can't threaten me."

"You've been out of the wizarding world too long, McLaggan." Where Cormac was raising his voice Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper. "Blood lines don't mean much anymore. You might be a pureblood, but I'm Hermione Granger. I helped bring down Voldemort, and I am Shaklebolt's handpicked protégée. You remember Harry Potter, don't you? He'd be responsible for investigating your case. Now how many people do you think would believe you over him?" Cormac swallowed hard and his gaze left Hermione's. She gave a triumphant smile. "I didn't think so."

Hermione stepped back and gave him a bright smile. "Be nice and keep the secrets, and we'll have no problem. Won't we, Cormac?"

McLaggan took a deep breath. "You know you're positively arousing when you're angry, Granger?"

Hermione took one deep, shuttering breath in then met Cormac's eye. "Draco tells me that all the time, McLaggan."

"That's the other thing, Granger. How the hell did a girl like you end up with a guy like Malfoy?"

"That's none of your damn business," Hermione spat, and stomped off towards the garden.

The group was strolling slowly through the lovely gardens by the time that Hermione and Cormac had caught up with them. Imogene glared at Hermione.

"What did she want?" Imogene immediately asked. Hermione glared at Cormac. Cormac gave an easy smile.

"Wanted to make sure I was over her, is all."

Hermione sighed. At least it was better than the alternative, but my God, couldn't he have made it be about something other than himself?

"Over you?" Imogene sounded confused and defensive.

"Ah, your cousin and I knew each other at school. And there was one night with too much drinking and a bit of snogging. That's all."

"You two snogged?" Imogene looked incensed. She glared at Hermione. Hermione snorted.

"There was one date, where he tried to trap me under the mistletoe. It was not repeated."

"You never told me that," Draco said, his voice almost sounding hurt but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You were there," Hermione said primly. "Slughorn's Christmas party."

"Malfoy was invited?" Cormac asked, looking angry.

"No, I crashed," Draco responded smoothly.

"Hoping for a glance at Hermione?" Cormac sounded accusatory.

"Daphne Greengrass, actually."

Cormac gave a low whistle. "She was fit. What ever happened to her?"

"She married Theo Nott. I understand they're both very unhappy together."

"Weren't they close?"

Draco shrugged. "They always got along just fine. But it was an arranged marriage. Theo was not interested in settling down, and Daphne was caught in Tracy David's bed more than once."

"An arranged marriage? At this day and age?" Miranda protested. There were deep furrows in her eyebrows.

"The amount of money those two families controlled was obscene," Draco drawled. "Arranged marriages are a custom in both their families. And so now they live in a drafty old house together, both of them sleeping with other people and staving off the questions of when they'll have a baby."

"That sounds miserable," Miranda said flatly. Nicholas nodded.

"I've known a few people who have had parents pushing for arranged marriages. It's a rotten deal."

"Your family seems like the sort who would try for that," Cormac said, thinly veiled accusation in his voice.

"They tried," Draco said lightly. "I was due to marry Daphne's younger sister, actually."

"What happened?"

"Astoria wasn't of age by the time I graduated, and by the time she was I was already disowned. Pretty hard to force a marriage when you have no leverage."

"You're disowned?" Imogene asked. Cormac looked at Draco curiously.

"I haven't spoken to my family in four years," said Draco mildly.

"Is your dad still in prison?" Cormac asked roughly.

"The last I head he was on house arrest," Draco said delicately. "That was four years ago, again."

"What did you do?" Imogene demanded.

"That," said Draco with a great deal of finality and a touch of impatience, "is a story for another time."

a/n Thank you all for your wonderful feedback. It means the world to know people are enjoying this story.