Thanks for the reviews! I don't like Narcissa being mean to Hermione. In the books Narcissa is a nasty, snob but she desires her sons happiness above all. I don't think it's too big a stretch of the imagination for her to do anything for Draco to be happy, even if that means accepting Hermione. Hermione has more or less given up on SPEW because she realizes most house elves love working but still believes they shouldn't be treated cruelly.

Chapter 9

Hermione was immediately thrown into a whirlwind of terrifying flashbacks.

Draco waited patiently for Hermione to calm down. He could see the tenseness in her shoulders, how wide her eyes were, hear her shallow breathing. He took her hand.

"Hermione." He called her name softly, trying to call her away from her nightmares. She squeezed his hand.

Draco willed the gates open with his mind and they began to walk up the path. The manor was less threatening in the daylight but still intimidating. It was massive. Grey, cold and confronting. Hermione shivered.

The door swung open for them and they entered. Hermione gripped Draco's hand so tightly he thought she would cut off circulation. She was shaking visibly now.

"Shnuckem, bring our guest a glass of firewhiskey." Draco commanded the elf that had opened the door for them.

"Yes master." The elf disappeared. The whole interaction went unnoticed by Hermione who was willing herself not to cry. Things have changed Hermione. Draco isn't going to hurt you. You're safe! Bellatrix is dead. You will be strong! She was snapped out of her trance as Draco pushed a glass a firewhiskey into her hand.

"Drink." He murmured. She obeyed without realizing she had.

"Draco! There you are I wondered where you had got off to!" Narcissa swept into the room, a glass of cherry in her hand, stopping dead when she saw that her son was not alone. "Draco you didn't tell me you were having a friend over."

"No, sorry mother. You remember Hermione Granger?" Draco steered Hermione to face his mother. Hermione forced a smile. Narcissa recovered immediately.

"Yes of course. Miss Granger. What a pleasure it is to see you again. Are you well?"

"Yes thank you Mrs Malfoy."

"Narcissa, please. Well, I hope you will both join me for a little afternoon tea in the garden." Draco nodded and Narcissa left the room. Draco gestured to the place his mother had been in invitation.

"Shall we?" Hermione nodded taking one last look around the room where she'd been tortured so many years ago.

"I'm so sorry." Draco whispered. A single tear slipped down Hermione's cheek. Draco didn't wipe it away; he did what he wished he could've done as he watched Hermione wither in agony before him, he held her. It wasn't quite a hug or a cuddle, he just held her. His hands rested on her lower back and his cheek rested on top of her head. She didn't cry. She just leant into him, accepting the comfort he offered her. Neither of them said anything. Slowly the nightmares slipped away from Hermione, and she could breathe again.

They joined Narcissa in the garden soon after. As Draco had earlier promised, the house elves had made a Victorian sponge cake. Accompanying this were the usual high tea offerings; ribbon sandwiches, scones and cream, mini pastries and a pot of tea.

Hermione quite enjoyed her afternoon if truth be told. If anything she was relieved to be out of that room. Narcissa was intelligent and a good conversationalist and Draco was charming and supportive. He held her hand under the table for most of the lunch. Narcissa noted this, storing it away in her mind for later inspection.

Draco escorted Hermione home and for once she invited him in. She didn't want to be alone. He offered to buy her dinner but she insisted on making it. Draco was quite excited by this. No girl had ever offered to make him dinner before. He could only guess that she wanted to keep busy. Hermione ordered him out of the kitchen and Draco took his time perusing the bookshelves. When he ventured back to her side he was amazed at the array of knives that she was employing. Sharp ones, long ones, short ones, serrated ones, flat ones, round ones, square ones. He wondered why so many were required. Surely one would be sufficient.

"So what are we having?" Draco asked coming up behind her. He inhaled deeply. It smelt delicious.

"Coq au vin. It's a French chicken stew. My grandmother taught me how to make it."

"Was she French?"

"Yes. My mother was too. I spent every Christmas in France before I began attending Hogwarts." Draco smiled.

"That would explain why half the books you own are in French."

"My grandfather loved books. He had a huge library at his home. When he died he left many of them to me. I have more in storage as well. Those are only my favourites." She gestured towards the five hundred plus books bursting out of the bookshelves.

"That's a lot of favourites."

"I love a lot of books."

"I should've shown you the library at the Manor." Draco said this more to himself than her. "You would've loved it."

"Maybe next time." Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Your weren't scared away by my mother?"

"Narcissa? No not at all she was lovely."

"Yes she can be when she likes people."

"I liked her." Hermione took a clean spoon and dipped it into the Casserole dish. Draco watched with rapt attention as she brought the brimming spoon to her mouth. Her lips softly parted and closed around the spoon, sucking on it slightly as she drew it back out of her mouth slowly, her small, pink tongue darting out to lick her lips. She made a sound of contentment. He shut his eyes for a moment, restraining his emotions. He was sure it was unintentional but Merlin she, er excited him. When he opened her eyes she had finished serving and was leaving the kitchen.

"Grab those for me won't you?" She called to him nodding at two wine glasses and a bottle of Shiraz. He obliged and a moment later they sat down for their first home meal together.

"It's good, you know, that we have magic. This dish usually needs to sit for a day before it's eaten but I know a few tricks to speed up the process." Draco smiled at her attempt to make small talk. She was nervous. That much was obvious.

"Well I'm looking forward to it." Draco said cutting into his chicken. It was cooked perfectly. Smiling at Hermione's anxious expression he took his first bite. Merlin she can cook as well!

"Question." Draco said putting down his fork. Hermione's face filled with dread.

"Yes?"

"Is there anything you aren't good at it?" Hermione smiled in relief.

"No." He chuckled and they both dug in.

That night Hermione let Draco stay for a long time. She even let him go so far as to get a hand up under her shirt as they made out on her couch. As his other hand scooted up her leg under her dress she pushed him away.

"I think that's enough for one night." She murmured sitting up right. Draco nodded smoothing his hair back down. They'd definitely made progress today.

"When can I see you again?" He asked as she walked him to the door. Hermione blushed a little.

"When do you want to see me again?" Draco smirked.

"Tomorrow?"

"I'm going to the Weasleys. Molly cooks up a big lunch every Sunday for her family and friends to share." Draco didn't bother trying to get himself invited to that. He knew he wouldn't be welcome no matter how much Hermione liked him.

"How about Monday? I'll pick you up at your office for lunch." Hermione smiled.

"I'd like that."

"Good." Draco kissed her once more before apparating away.

Hermione touched her lips as she locked the door after him. Was she falling for Draco Malfoy? It would seem so.