Hello! Quick question: I keep getting asked to put more spaces between the text but every time I try, and it doesn't matter if I double or even triple space between paragraphs, the Doc Manager changes it back to a single line. I'm really confused does anyone know how to fix this?

No one but the two women ever knew what Hermione said to Narcissa. All anyone saw was Hermione's lips move and then Narcissa's reluctant nod. The lady of Malfoy Manor rose up elegantly and looked her son's Headmaster squarely in the eye.
"I'll come," she said graciously. "Thank you."
Dumbledore nodded in his, kindly, grandfatherly way.
"I'll go pack, if you'd like to retire to the lounge," Narcissa said, awkwardly. "It's through that door there." She pointed. "The Dark Lord is away at this time so you will be perfectly safe."
Hermione glanced up at her. "Would you like help packing?"
Narcissa hesitated a moment, then nodded, falteringly. "Please."

Hermione followed Narcissa up a wide, grand staircase, straight out of a Disney Princess palace, staring about her in awe. No wonder Draco was so spoilt, growing up surrounded by such grandeur. Narcissa gestured her into a large bedroom, and began pulling items out of the wardrobe, chest of drawers, en suite... She threw Hermione a conjured bag.
"If you could put them inside?" she asked, quietly. "Please."
Hermione nodded, beginning to fill the bag with the clothes, toiletries, books and other miscellanea that Mrs Malfoy had piled up on the floor. Upon reaching for a pair of emerald, silk boxers, she had to bite her lip hard to prevent any giggles escaping. I just touched Lucius Malfoy's underwear!

They worked mostly in silence, until Mrs Malfoy turned to her abruptly and said, "Are you and my son-?"
"Dating? No!" Hermione scoffed, embarrassed. "Just friends."
Narcissa shrank the bag with an elaborate wave of her wand, pursing red-lipsticked lips.
"When did you start being... friends?"she asked, curiosity colouring her tone.
Hermione thought back, tapping her wand on her knee absently.
"I'm not sure, really. It was only this year. I found him in the Room of Requirement- I was crying I saw Ron... well, never mind... but we weren't friends then, not really..." she shook her head, flustered. "Sorry."
Narcissa gave her a small smile. Her grey eyes flashed to her son's newest friend's face, cautiously probing.
"What is your opinion of my son?" she asked quietly.
Hermione started, her brown eyes darting up to and locking onto Narcissa's. They both knew a lot was riding on her answer.
"Draco is..." she paused, reflectively, then continued simply, "... one of the bravest people I know."

HGDMHGDM

Narcissa left Hermione in the lounge with Draco, Dumbledore and McGonagall as she went to fetch her husband, who had, up until now, been oblivious to their presence in his home. The minutes seemed to tick by even slower without the preoccupation of packing the Malfoys' bag, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room seeming to tick obnoxiously loudly.

She wasn't the only restless person in the room either: Professor McGonagall was growing more and more agitated until finally, Narcissa re-joined them, holding onto her husband's arm. Lucius looked more relaxed than either the Professors or Hermione had ever seen him, laughing at his slight wife pulling him along. In that moment, you could see the young Lucius and Narcissa in the couple's aged faces, full of life and excitement. They didn't look like murderers, not even close.
"What is it, Cissy?" Lucius asked, smiling fondly at his doll-like wife.
She shook her head minutely and dragged him fully into the room. Lucius took one look at the assortment of people stood beside his fireplace and an expression of absolute confusion fell on his face. His blonde ponytail whipped back and forth as he scanned each face for an explanation, finding none.
"What on earth is going on?" he asked, eventually, his voice tired and not half as proud as it had once been.
Hermione prodded Draco pointedly. He offered her a half-hearted glare and stepped forward, explaining the situation once more.

When his son had stopped talking, Lucius blinked, and glanced awkwardly at his perfectly composed wife, as if to ask if their boy had taken leave of his senses. Narcissa smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand when she thought no one was looking. She linked her skinny arms through her husband's and turned back to their rescue party expectantly.
"Where to?" she asked Dumbledore, politely.
He smiled at her genially, looking every inch the doting grandfather.
"We shall continue onto one of the Order of the Phoenix's safe houses," he answered, gently. "And there we will leave you."

Lucius' eyes were flickering between his son and Hermione suspiciously, but he remained silent, evidently acknowledging that he needed his son's help- he was in too deep with Voldemort and it was time to get out. If he felt any scorn or disgust at the lack of blood purity in his son's rescue party, he didn't show it- nodding respectfully towards Dumbledore, a known 'Muggle-lover' and inclining his head towards Hermione. He had resumed his usual mask-like expression, not even altering it as he, Narcissa, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Draco and Hermione stepped into his fireplace. Some of his regality appeared to be coming back to him.

"The Burrow!" shouted Dumbledore, and with a puff of green smoke, the group flooed straight to the Weasley's residence.
Hermione and Draco exchanged amused looks, both curious to see what his parents' reaction would be to staying in the infamous blood-traitors' home. To their surprise, however, no insults were forthcoming, indeed pleasant shock was instead written across the elder Malfoys' faces.

Narcissa and Lucius looked about their new home, taking in the size of the room they had just flooed into. Evidently, the blood-traitors had a sizable house, even if it lacked the grandeour of their own Manor. They walked out of the fireplace in a state of curiousity, unaware of everyone's attention on them. Minerva's lips were pinched, preventing any laughter escaping, and Albus' were twitching slightly in humour. The Malfoys looked like the first years upon arrival at Hogwarts, their expressions a mixture of wonder and amazement.

"Molly? Arthur?" Professor McGonagall called, turning to the Malfoys, "I expect you to be civil."
Narcissa Malfoy's eyebrows arched dangerously, but she remained silent, clutching her husband's hand tightly.

Molly Weasley wandered out of her kitchen, smiling hospitably.
"Hello, come in, come in!" she called, waving them into the food-scented room. "I'm heating some stew, Fawkes warned me of your arrival, clever bird."
Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a glance but wandered in slowly. Hermione strode in after them, stroking the phoenix that sat on the table. Fawkes had a smug look upon his face and a plate of owl treats at his feet. Evidently, Molly had no idea what phoenixes ate. Come to think of it, neither did she.

Molly waved Hermione over for a hug, exclaiming, "Hermione, haven't you grown?"
Hermione grinned sheepishly, hugging her second-mother back fondly. Molly turned towards her guests, beam not faltering.
"Lucius, Narcissa- you are quite welcome to stay here as long as you wish," she greeted them, warmly, anxious to start this new development on good terms.

Narcissa's cold exterior melted. It had been so long since someone had treated her kindly- the Dark Lord most certainly didn't, the general public treated her like scum, and Lucius was so stressed he was rarely affectionate anymore. She felt like the vulnerable, love starved child she had been before she arrived at Hogwarts, having spent years in the company of her cold parents and insane and indifferent sisters with little outside contact. Stepping forward, she awkwardly hugged the woman she and her family had turned their noses at for years. To her surprise, shedding her prejudice was exhilarating rather than terrifying. She turned to Molly.
"Thank you," she said, gratefully, "You are very kind."

Lucius nodded in agreement, formally shaking the witch's hand. Draco cringed at his father's out-of-place actions. Oh, my God, dad... Hermione smirked at him.
"Shut up," he hissed, blushing profusely.
She sniggered, and, after a while, he joined in too, the pair of them oblivious to the five adults watching them. Each adult's calculating gaze had reached one conclusion, though it was obvious neither teenager had yet reached this point. They exchanged knowing smiles.

"Ahem," coughed Dumbledore, hiding his smirk, "I think we should say our goodbyes and be on our way."
There was a flurry of farewells, until, suddenly, Narcissa leant forward and hugged Hermione. Her touch was gentle and motherly, which shattered all of Hermione's previous misconceptions about the woman. She hugged her back tightly, thinking of her own mother, sat at home, unaware of her daughter being in danger.
"Please look after Draco," Narcissa breathed, "And yourself, of course."
Hermione struggled to not look amazed. She nodded and smiled faintly at Draco's mother, and followed Draco, Dumbledore and McGonagall into the fireplace. The last thing she saw as they flooed back to Hogwarts was Narcissa's tear streaked face as she clasped her husband and Molly's hands.

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