Author's Note: This chapter took a little longer than I was hoping. In the last few weeks—I had birthday, had a 2 week long head-cold from hell, and started packing up all my worldy possessions because we'll be moving house in a couple of weeks. I have my priorities straight—books packed first in neatly labeled boxes so none of them get lost on the way. When I did sit down to write this chapter, it fought me a little, but I'm please at the end result. Thanks as ever to Sunshine Katz for beta-ing. Any remaining mistakes are my own doing. And now…let's have some more Draco. I don't know about you but I missed him last chapter.


Chapter 9: Mirror, Mirror


"Draco, Draco, Draco…how could you let me down by letting that Hardwick girl go?"

"I gave her a try at your request, Mother. She wasn't suitable."

Narcissa gave a small sigh and pursed her lips in a way that Draco knew meant he'd disappointed her. He didn't pay it much mind; he'd learned to determine on his own what was and wasn't worth disappointing her over. "If she wasn't right for the office, maybe she'd have been suitable…elsewhere. She comes from a good family."

There it comes, Draco thought. His mother knew perfectly well that the girl hadn't been right as his receptionist. She was thinking of other things. He just barely kept himself from snorting; that may have been his mother's plan, and possibly Agatha's mother's plan, but Agatha certainly hadn't been aware of it or she might have tried harder. He couldn't imagine going through life calling someone Agatha every day anyway. He dutifully chewed his Friday night dinner and made polite conversation. He didn't come over weekly, but at least a couple of times a month he came back to the Manor for dinner with his parents.

Draco timed his question just as his mother took a sip of her wine. "By the way, I met my cousin Teddy—well, first cousin once removed. It was a shame to meet him and find out about the loss of your sister on the same day."

Narcissa's glass shattered. It happened so quickly, Draco couldn't say whether she dropped it in surprise, or if her magic shattered it.

In a moment a house-elf was there banishing the shattered glass and cleaning up the wine.

Evidently, that moment was all the time she needed to compose herself. "And what brought that revelation to light?"

"Just because you won't talk about certain members of our family doesn't mean they've stopped existing in the wider world. You know how one thing leads to another—you're at a Quidditch match, someone introduces their godson to you, and lo and behold, you find out that your aunt passed away a year ago and your own mother never even bothered to mention it," Draco said, casually, taking another bite of his dinner. He looked up and locked his eyes with her. "But family is the most important thing, isn't it? Just like Agatha's family is good family? Tell me, Mother, how many branches have been burned off the Hardwick family tree?"

"That is enough, Draco," Lucius's voice cut in.

"You taught me family was above all else. Funny how you seem to be able to pick and choose it. I thought it didn't work like that. I certainly wouldn't have picked Aunt Bella if I was picking. Not that I know if Andromeda would have been any better. I never got the chance." His voice was soft, almost icy. He hadn't quite meant to hit that hard, but what was done was done. He wasn't taking it back.

There was a deafening silence, broken only by the small sounds of the house-elf replacing Narcissa's wine.

"Some day, when you are less of a child, I might grace you with a family history lesson. Until then, you may want to take under advisement that there are times when it's better for you to be seen and not heard." There was a brief pause. "And speaking of being seen, you will be present on Monday?"

Draco didn't have to look at his father to know that he was fixing him with the cool Malfoy stare. He'd been on the fence about going to to his mother's reception—he'd been looking for a way to get out of it. But after what he'd just said… "Yes, Mother. I'll be there."

"With a date."

"I'll do my best, Mother. Not the Hardwick girl—but I'll find someone." He started filing through names in his head. One in particular stood out.

That seemed to satisfy her, and she sniffed and called for the next course. Lucius changed the topic of conversation and dinner continued.


Hermione had sent a note to Harry last night before she could change her mind, offering to babysit today. Harry's response had been surprisingly quick—he didn't need her to babysit, but she ought to come spend the afternoon with him and Teddy.

Now Hermione was looking at her store-bought cookies—she thought they looked a little dismal but she wanted to bring something. Oh well. They were what they were. She doubted Harry or Teddy would notice or care that they weren't homemade.

She Flooed to Grimmauld Place before she could talk herself out of it. She stepped out of the fireplace and shook herself off. "Harry?"

"Aunt Hermi'ne!" Teddy called, running through the house with one shoe and no shirt.

Hermione held the plate up out of the way as Teddy tackled her around the knees.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said, following with a shirt, sock, and small shoe in his arm. "He's in one of those phases. He keeps trying to undress himself." He looked down at his godson. "Teddy, you need to put your shirt on. Now." Teddy ignored him and looked up hopefully at Hermione.

"Cookies?"

"You have to get dressed first, Teddy."

In the end, with half a cookie in his hand, Teddy agreed to put the rest of his clothes back on and then ran off to play with his toy broom. Harry grimaced and led Hermione to the couch to sit down. "I swear I'm trying not to spoil him. But it's hard sometimes."

"Spoiling him won't do him any favors in the long term."

"You don't think I know that? I grew up with Dudley, remember. But I also grew up like Teddy…I want him to have a better time of it than I did," he shook his head. "Anyway, enough about me."

"He's better off than you were—he's got you. All you had was Petunia." She watched as Harry left the room to bring out some tea. She suspected he wanted to change the subject. He came back with a tray and two cups and a glass of milk for Teddy. "I'm glad you came over, Hermione. It was good seeing you the other night. I hadn't realized how long…"

Hermione nodded and took her teacup from him. "I know. One thing leads to another and months go by. You've been keeping pretty busy?"

"I have. He's a handful at this age. It's a full time job just about." He grinned.

Hermione hesitated, not sure if she should ask the question that was preying on her. She finally asked—she had to know. "Harry…are you happy?"

He seemed surprised by the question. "Of course I am."

"But your job at the Ministry?"

There was a sheepish smile and he shrugged. "It's not forever. After the War…everyone needed some stability. I sure as hell didn't want to be an Auror. I still don't." He met Hermione's eyes. "I spent long enough with a target on my back. I'm over it. I don't want it. And I don't want Teddy to lose me." He turned away, looking at where Teddy was busy playing. "I know I didn't want to be a mascot for the Ministry under Fudge or Scrimgeour—they treated me like shit and they made terrible choices. I think Kingsley is a steady hand on the tiller—as good as we could hope for right now. If coming into the office once in a while and saying the right things helps keep things rolling on—and gives me the time I need right now to take care of Teddy, and focus on what's important to me—I'm okay with it." He paused and there was something in his voice. "I have a family, Hermione. It's all I ever wanted. I'm not going to let him down."

"Don't you want…more?"

Harry sipped his tea and was thoughtful. "Someday I'll want other things. Probably after Teddy goes off to Hogwarts. Someday I'll want a relationship. Someday, I might want a job where I actually have to do something. Right now, I have everything I want."

"Really?"

He put down his teacup and called Teddy over—the little boy took his glass and took a big sip and grinned at them with a milk mustache before scampering off—spilling as he went. Harry shook his head. "Hermione, I don't think these questions are really about me. I'm happy. I don't know how to convince you I am—dating Ginny after the war didn't work, and you remember what a disaster it was even thinking about trying to date anyone else after that. It's hard for me to find anyone who sees me as just Harry instead of Harry Potter." He laughed—they didn't even need to walk down those memories. Love potions and stalking had been the least of it. Even Lavender had attempted to make a run at him—the memory was enough to make him shudder. "So come on. I know I've been a little dense lately, but what's going on? You quit the Ministry, you turned up at the match with Malfoy, and now you're here convinced that I must be unhappy with the whole Mr. Mom routine. We're still family. Talk to me."

Hermione looked at Harry. She took a breath, and looked away from him. "You're right. I…haven't been happy for a long time. I guess I wanted to see if it was just me." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "I had to leave the Ministry. But I left and it didn't just magically make everything better. I've got high expectations. I just don't know what it is I'm expecting." It was hard to even begin to explain, but Harry surprised her by putting it easily into words.

"You feel like you peaked at seventeen?"

"Hard to top saving the world."

"Don't I know it?"

She smiled ruefully. If anyone knew, he did. "Teddy's not far from school now—he'll be five in a few months. Is he enrolled for fall term?"

"I don't know if I'll be enrolling him at the local primary. Elementary school is rough. The other kids…and for a kid who can't control his magic? And who mimics other people's faces without thinking about it?" He shook his head. "I'm still thinking about it, but we were at the park just the other day and I watched him change his face into that of a little old lady who was feeding the ducks. I'm not even sure he's always aware when he's doing it."

Hermione couldn't hold back a laugh. "He didn't. A little old lady?"

"It was all I could do not to laugh…I managed to get him turned toward the duck pond before anyone saw."

It felt good to laugh. She wasn't sure Harry was right about keeping Teddy out of the local school—but she wasn't going to say it now.

There was a crash at the other end of the room as Teddy's block tower fell over. It might have just been the light…or they might have been smoking slightly.

"Teddy, if you're done with them, put them away," Harry called. He turned his attention back to Hermione. "He gets a little over-excited sometimes. If you don't want to go back to the Ministry, what are you going to do? Hogwarts?"

"I can't. McGonagall would have me in a heartbeat, but…it wouldn't feel like a step forward. I can't go back." She brushed her hair back out of her face and shifted in her chair. "I'll sort it out. I just don't know where I'm going yet."

He nodded. "You'll get there. Wherever there is. I don't doubt it." He paused, unsure how to continue. "And wherever it is you're going…is Malfoy…traveling with you?" He had the grace to look embarrassed.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "I don't even know where to start. I never really thought he'd actually come to the Quidditch match with me. I just didn't really want to go alone with everything that's been going on, and he said yes, and then I didn't really have a choice. But I had fun."

"It's Malfoy. How did you ever end up even inviting him?"

She shrugged. "The wizarding world is awfully small sometimes. We ran into one another a few weeks ago. Anyway, I'm not exactly seeing him. I just…see him sometimes."

He snickered. "That's loads clearer." Something caught his eye and he whipped out his wand and muttered a spell.

Hermione turned in time to see that Teddy was standing on top of the mantle. Whether he'd managed to levitate himself up there or climb up there, she wasn't sure—but one thing was sure, he was trying to jump down and Harry's spell wasn't letting him.

Harry was at his side in a moment and murmuring the counter spell and lifting him down. He started to tell the little boy how dangerous it was and that he shouldn't go up there. "Now, I want all your toys put away. Right now."

Teddy changed his face to Harry's and glared at him.

"Teddy, I mean it, right now."

Still wearing Harry's face—Teddy glumly started putting everything back in the toy chest. Harry turned to Hermione. "Well, he'll be cranky for a while. You want to stay for dinner?"

Hermione smiled and agreed.


Hermione was lying across her couch with a good book. It was Sunday and she'd taken the day off from potion making. There was a half eaten sandwich on the coffee table. She turned the page. She reached for another bite of her sandwich. Skim was sprawled across the back of the couch, his tail hanging down.

She had gotten up and had her coffee and showered...and put on a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare, and her wet hair was in a bun on top of her head. She was comfortable.

The afternoon was sliding by when a letter shot out of the fireplace. Hermione saw it out of the corner of her eye. Letters through the fireplace were fairly uncommon—it usually meant someone was in to much of a rush for an owl. She set her book down on the table and padded over to pick it up. It was a single page folded and sealed with wax. Her name was on the front. She broke the seal and opened it.

I'll be over at 3.

It wasn't signed, but she'd seen the handwriting before. He was coming over…? What time was it now?

She had hardly had time to pick up her plate and bring it into the kitchen to check the clock when there was noise from the fireplace. "Merlin, really?" She glanced at the clock. Three o'clock on the nose. She went into the living room. There was the smug bastard, leaning against her fireplace. "You didn't give me much notice."

"I sent a calling card."

"That arrived one minute before you did. That hardly counts," but she was fighting a smile. She folded her arms across her chest. "So, what brings you by? Did you have a desperate desire to see Skimbleshanks?"

Draco's eyes looked over her casually. Her hair was damp. A tendril had escaped her bun and was lying against her cheek. With her arms across her chest, the hem of her t-shirt rode up a little, baring a little midriff. He drawled, "Well, as nice as the fur ball is, I'm actually here with a proposition for you."

"A proposition? It hasn't even been a week since I saw you. Are you here to scrap your rule?" A teasing smile played across her lips. Six days. And he'd come to her.

He peeled himself off the wall, and ambled towards her, pausing to scratch the cat behind the ears. He looked over at her. Salazar. He usually preferred elegant and dressy over casual…but she wore it well. "Absolutely not. I told you, that rule is…firm." He straightened up and moved closer. Was it his imagination or had she come forward a few steps while he was occupied with the cat? "I had something else in mind."

"Oh?"

He smiled. "It so happens, I am in distress, and I thought you might be able to help. After all, I did gallantly escort you to that Quidditch match."

"It was hardly a hardship. You enjoyed making them all squirm."

He didn't suppress his smirk. "I did. And you'll enjoy this. You get to spend the night on my arm, making high society discomfited—including my mother."

"Gee, that sounds almost too good to pass up…but I think I'll pass."

Draco stepped closer and slipped his hand around her waist; his thumb brushed against her hip. "I did mention the hanging on my arm all night, didn't I? And possibly some dancing?"

"Hmm…is that supposed to be an incentive? Or a deterrent?" She teased. She tried to keep her breath steady but he was standing awfully close to her. Screw it. She could give as good as she got. She reached out to straighten the collar of his robes—not that they needed it—and let her hand linger on the back of the neck.

He stepped closer, lips brushing against her ear. "Incentive, definitely." Salazar. She smelled good. He pulled back a little way and took her hand from his neck, threading his fingers through hers. He slid his other hand to her lower back. He started to dance with her, humming softly. It didn't take her long to start following, though she almost laughed in surprise as he dipped her and brushed a kiss across her lips. "See the upside?" He asked, raising her back up again.

"I'm beginning to." She licked her lips. Merlin. She was acutely aware of the fact that she hadn't bothered to put a bra on after showering. "And when exactly is this soiree?"

"Tomorrow night."

"You don't give a girl much time to prepare."

He looked her over. "You don't need much time."

She laughed. "I would have preferred more than a minute's notice before you turn up at my flat."

He smirked at her, and his eyes lingered on her chest for half a second too long. "Even with short notice, you don't disappoint. But this isn't until eight tomorrow. You have nearly twenty-nine hours before I pick you up. Ample time."

She shook her head, hardly believing him. "You're a smug bastard, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not. My parents married long before I was born. Do you have anything to drink?" Draco sauntered off to the kitchen; it was getting a bit warm in here.

By the time Hermione had followed him to the kitchen, he'd poured himself a glass of orange juice and was standing against the counter drinking it. She kept her distance, fixing herself a cup of tea. She looked over at him from across the room. "I'm not saying I'll go, but if I do…what's the dress code?"

Draco brushed his hair back from his eyes. "Elegant dress robes. I'll send something over."

"I can dress myself."

A wicked grin crossed his face. "I wasn't offering to come over and dress you, but if you insist…"

She added sugar and lemon to her tea, keeping her hands busy while she shot him a disapproving glance. Well, she attempted to anyway. She doubted it worked, based on the fact that his grin didn't even flicker. "Dress robes cover a lot of range. If I'm willing to go—and that's an if—I want to make sure I'm dressed…appropriately. I want to make them squirm with how well I fit in—not make them think, 'Oh Merlin, the Mudblood heathen.'"

"It sounds like you've already decided to go. Trust me on this, Granger. You'll have fun. You'll make them squirm. And I will pick out the perfect robes. You'll have them by noon tomorrow." He sipped his orange juice and looked at her over the rim of his glass. "This stuff in the paper carton is rubbish by the way. Haven't you ever heard of fresh squeezed?"

"Who has time for that?"

The conversation migrated to the kitchen table. They lingered over their beverages as Draco asked about her week and told a little bit about his. She laughed as he recounted his mother needling him about Agatha. He arched an eyebrow in amusement over Teddy's dinner-time antics the day before. "Potter is really enjoying all that?"

"Reveling in it. I wasn't sure I believed it either but…" She shrugged. "I saw him. He's happy."

"And you?"

Hermione considered a moment before answering. She still didn't know what she was doing—about anything really. But she was finally starting to feel like it was okay. She was climbing out of the pit and she could see the sunlight. Curse-breaking? Dragons? It didn't really matter. She'd find something. Malfoy? She'd cross that bridge when she came to it—they'd bought themselves another week. "I think…I'm getting there."

A real smile crossed Draco's face briefly. "I'm glad. I remember how long a road that is. And to be fair, women's shoes tend not to be good for long walks."

She chuckled. "It's a good thing I'm barefoot then."

He reached across the table and rested his fingertips on the back of her hand. "I should be going—natural beauty as I am, these things do still take time."

"I can look this good on a moment's notice, and twenty-eight hours isn't long enough for you?" She arched an eyebrow at him. Not that she thought she looked good—sweats and a t-shirt. But then again…he'd seemed to like it.

He glanced at the wall clock. "Twenty-seven and a half hours actually. But who's counting? I'll see you tomorrow?"

She could hear the question in his voice, even though he hadn't phrased it that way. Maybe she wasn't the only one who was—a teensy bit—nervous about letting a full week pass at this point. "I'll see you tomorrow. But I'll take care of my own robes, Malfoy."

Draco smirked. "We'll see. And…I think—given the impression we're going for tomorrow—maybe we ought to drop the surnames, Hermione."

She tasted his name on her lips. "Draco."

"That has a nice ring to it. I'll see you tomorrow at 7:45." As he walked around the table, he let his fingers trail over her arm.

He was halfway to the fireplace when she asked. "Draco? What exactly is this reception for?"

"The usual sort of thing. Textbooks for needy children. Second-hand wands. Something like that."