Hi everyone!

Longest chapter yet! Yay!

So, I've been seeing that some people are worried about Dark Lady Hermione not liking Muggleborns. I understand that very much. However, to date, Hermione is not aware that she herself is a Muggleborn, so give her some wiggle room. She will eventually find out, and from there, her views will (probably?) change. This is a darkfic. Hermione was never going to be innocent and nice. Just consider the Muggleborn issue unresolved - but I promise it will be eventually. :)

Malfoy Manor I: At Least I'm Not a Mudblood

In which against all odds and reason, Hermione and Draco somehow get along.

The Malfoy Manor loomed about Hermione and made her jaw drop so far that she thought it might touch the ground. Spinner's End wasn't exactly terrible since Severus had fixed it up when she had initially been adopted, but it was nothing like the grandeur of the Manor.

Tall, steep gables; great stone walls; a huge garden with albino peacocks and all kinds of undoubtedly rare flower that shouldn't have been blooming at this time of year, especially not in Wiltshire; and a densely forested area surrounding the grounds of the estate. Hermione could not stop staring for the life of her.

Lucius chuckled. "Quite a common reaction," he said, clearly pleased by it. "Come along now."

Hermione followed behind him as he walked up the drive past the fountain with sculptures that had to be at least a hundred years old, if not more, and could not stop looking around the estate in awe. Her trunk had been brought back to its normal size and she rolled it along easily, not taking a moment to care how heavy it was due to the beauty of her surroundings.

They arrived at the front door and Lucius snapped out, "Dobby!" and a strange creature that she knew to be a House Elf appeared, already cowering.

"Yes, Master, what does Master want?" he asked, oddly terrified.

"Bring Miss Snape's belongings to her quarters, then fetch Draco and Narcissa and bring out brunch for the family," Lucius ordered in a commanding drawl. Dobby took Hermione's trunk and then disappeared with a crack! Hermione could not stop staring even after he had left. It was, after all, the first time she had met a House Elf in person.

"Come. We'll have brunch on the patio; it's very nice this time of year when it's not raining."

Hermione nodded, too gobsmacked to speak, and followed him through the manor.

There were many paintings come alive who watched them pass with curious looks on their faces and plenty of ornate furniture and overall splendor. Hermione could not tear her eyes away until they reached the patio, where her attention was again averted to even more surroundings.

The patio itself had whitish-grey marble tile for flooring and was surrounded by tall flowering plants. Just past the roofed area was a large pond with lotus pads and lilies, all of which should not have thrived as they were in Wiltshire. Hermione assumed magic, which was unsurprising but still very impressive. She realized that she had a very long way to go if she was ever going to match the kind of magic that had been built up over the centuries at Malfoy Manor. Still, it was something to aspire to, and she wasn't going to fail.

Lucius pulled out her seat for her and then seated himself. A few minutes later, a tall, beautiful blonde woman came out the same door they had, her icy blue eyes glancing at her husband and then at Hermione, to whom she smiled graciously and held out her hand.

"Narcissa Malfoy," she introduced herself.

"Hermione Snape," Hermione replied, and they shook hands.

"You don't look much like Severus at all," Narcissa mused aloud as Lucius stood to pull out her seat before they both sat down in unison. They were a beautiful, beautiful couple and if Hermione had ever had an interest in fairy tales or romantic notions of princes and princesses, she would have seen them alive in Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "You must take after your mother," she went on, a small smile on her face.

Hermione had been warned about this by Severus early on in their arrangement. He had told her that only a few people knew she was adopted, including the Headmaster at Hogwarts and several other people whose names did not seem important. However, she had been informed that to the general populace, she was his biological daughter and her mother had died in childbirth. Hermione had never understood why it had to be this way, but she could easily tell even at the young age of six that it wasn't a matter to be questioned.

It didn't make any sense though—why would anybody care that she was adopted? She had come from a magical family—obviously, or she wouldn't have been adopted by a wizard completely unrelated to her; she would have been taken in by her Muggle relatives (and wasn't that a horrifying thought?). But for some reason Severus had always insisted on it, sternly and without compromise, and eventually her childish curiosity gave way to common sense and she just accepted that that was the way it was. Especially given her father's warning about keeping her cards close to her chest, she knew that the last people she wanted to share this information with was the Malfoys, no matter how much she already liked them.

Still, she didn't particularly want to outright lie to the Malfoys, even though it would be inconsequential since she was only affirming what they already thought they knew. She couldn't avoid the lie, but being brief and vague would at least keep her conscience a little clearer than weaving a great and dramatic tale.

"Father says that, too," she replied calmly, but with a hint of forlornness. "But he doesn't like to talk about her much…" She made her voice trail off wistfully and avert her eyes to the forest, giving herself a distant look of longing to make the subject appear off-limits. Even if they weren't Slytherin to the core and could tell she didn't want to talk about it, just her mannerisms would indicate to everybody except the most socially stunted that she didn't want to talk about it.

She missed Lucius and Narcissa's shared glance, and the slight smirk that twitched on Lucius's lips in response to his wife's subtly pleased smile.

"Of course, dear," Narcissa said contritely. "I apologize if I've upset you."

Hermione slowly brought her gaze back to them, and then smiled softly. "No, it's alright. When people see me and Father together, they often ask the same questions." They didn't, really, but also she and Severus were very rarely seen in public together, as they were both notorious homebodies.

"So, Hermione, I hear that-"

"Who's she?" a voice that clearly expressed dissatisfaction and irritation demanded from right behind her. Hermione whirled around in her seat, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion.

"Draco, dear, this is Hermione Snape. She'll be staying with us until Hogwarts," Narcissa replied to the boy pouting in Hermione's direction. The boy, Draco, huffed and was obviously about to protest, but Lucius cut in.

"Draco, manners," he reprimanded sternly.

Draco looked hesitant for a moment, then capitulated to his father's order, although he took a moment to evaluate his new house guest. Hermione took the same moment to do some appraising of her own. She noticed pale, white-blond hair slicked back with a slight overuse of expensive gel that smelled faintly of Wiggentree bark. He had slate grey eyes, pale skin like his parents, and a certain pointiness to his features that could clearly be attributed to Lucius. Draco wore nondescript but still clearly expensive black pants as well as a shirt that was advertising some Quidditch team or another. Hermione had never paid attention to those and wasn't about to start.

She wasn't sure what Draco saw in her, but his icy expression thawed and he held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy," he said, his tone polite and gentlemanly. However, Hermione had immediately seen the propensity for being a spoiled brat and made sure to keep that in mind no matter how well Draco might treat her.

"Hermione Snape," Hermione said, just a little curtly. She wasn't going to allow people to walk over her, even Pure-bloods, because Half-blood or not, she was pretty sure that exactly none of the people seated at this table could do all the spells in the Grade 1 and 2 Spellbooks as well as the useful portions of 3 wandlessly and most of the time nonverbally as well. She would always be polite to Lucius due to their rapport from early on, and Narcissa by extension because she was his wife and seemed worthy enough of respect, but Draco? She would be nice to him as long as he was nice to her and not a second longer.

Draco's voice matched her previous curtness. "You're my godfather's daughter, then?"

Hermione raised her eyebrow, but before she could respond, Narcissa cleared her throat delicately and said, "Enough, Draco, it's time for brunch."

Their conversation more or less put on hold, Draco took his seat between Hermione and Lucius and Dobby and another House Elf whose name Hermione couldn't remember brought out a load of delicious foods: chocolate-filled croissants, cream cheese and strawberry Danishes, platters of scrambled eggs and rashers of bacon, toast accompanied by freshly-churned butter and jams of exotic fruits, sandwiches of roast beef and ham and turkey meat, a large teapot full of perfectly-steeped Earl Grey, and much more. Hermione wasn't sure why there was a need for so much food when there were only four people in attendance, but she wasn't going to complain either.

Throughout the meal, Lucius and Narcissa posed questions to Draco but mostly Hermione, all of a menial nature and said in friendly tones that would elicit conversation, but something in Hermione told her to stay wary and on her toes despite the apparent camaraderie. She wasn't suspicious of them, nor did she particularly mistrust them, but she felt a nagging insistence that if she wasn't careful they would bowl right over her with gentle innuendo and kind, but not innocent, praise. She took to the challenge like a duck to water, and halfway through the meal she felt comfortable enough to join in on the game, asking questions of her own.

When the meal was coming to a close, everyone having eaten their fill, Narcissa asked Hermione in what seemed an innocuous tone, "Do you have a House in particular that you would like to be Sorted into?"

Hermione knew immediately that her answer would influence how the Malfoys looked upon her for their rest of their association, and chose her answer carefully but promptly. "I feel like I would do well in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw," Hermione answered honestly. As subtle as it was, Hermione knew that putting Slytherin first in her answer would supply an unconscious assumption that she preferred the former over the latter. She wrinkled her nose just dramatically enough for effect when she went on, "But as long as I'm not in Gryffindor I'll be happy."

The entire Malfoy family was definitively pleased by that assessment, and it was for that very reason that she had added in the Gryffindor comment. It wasn't entirely a lie, but Hermione felt that if on the off chance she was placed in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, she would do just fine. In fact, though she would never voice it in this company, she would prefer Gryffindor over Hufflepuff.

But she was quite confident that Hufflepuff was not in the question for her Sorting. She had too much ambition that would only be hindered by the kind of loyalty Hufflepuff House was based on. No, if worse came to worst, she'd be in Gryffindor. She didn't deny that she could be reckless sometimes—her attempt to runaway featuring a particularly bloodthirsty werewolf had made that very clear to her.

"Draco?" she asked after a quick clearing of her thoughts. "What about you? I could guess, but that'd take all the fun out of it."

"Slytherin, of course," he said proudly. "All Malfoys go to Slytherin."

Lucius smiled at his son, a secret smile that was only between the two men of the Malfoy family, Hermione could tell. Then Narcissa spoke.

"Draco, why don't you show Hermione to her room? Your father and I have business to attend to."

The dismissal was clear and Draco nodded and motioned for Hermione to come along. However, before she began to follow she said, "Thank you for the food. It was delicious."

Lucius nodded graciously and Narcissa smiled and thanked her for the compliment. Then, as quickly as she could without seeming impolite, she followed after Draco.

Draco was waiting for her at the bottom of a staircase in the next room over. He motioned for her to follow and she did.

"You're definitely going to be in Slytherin," he said confidently as they began to climb the staircase. "You're Snape's daughter, after all, and he was in Slytherin. Houses are in blood, you know."

Hermione greatly doubted that, and even if it was true, she wasn't Severus's biological daughter. They shared exactly zero DNA beyond being human beings. But she didn't voice this, only nodding in response. "I might," she confided. "But I'm very dedicated to my studies, so Ravenclaw is a real possibility."

Draco shrugged as they reached the landing and then he led her down an adjacent hallway. "Ravenclaw isn't that bad, but it's not as good as Slytherin," he opined. He paused in front of a closed door. "This one's yours." He pointed down the hallway a little bit. "And that one's mine. Do you want to play Wizard's chess?"

"Sure," Hermione said, genuinely cheerful. She had been a little worried that she might be bored, but Draco was proving to be good if not particularly nuanced company, so her fears were allayed.

They sat down for a match, and Draco turned out, not unexpectedly, to be a sore loser. But he agreed to play again, and this time Hermione played a little sloppily to give him a chance to win. It was very close that time, but she still won, and then the next game she allowed Draco to win because she didn't want to make an enemy out of him and with his reaction to losing, she had a feeling that was a real possibility. At least she was mature enough to lose, even if she wasn't throwing the game, without getting sulky and angry over it.

She wasn't surprised that Draco wasn't as good as chess as she was. After all, her father had never once gone easy on her and so it was either learn from her losses or lose without question every single time.

Still, regardless of beating Draco, she still lost every 9 out of 10 games with Severus. She couldn't say she didn't feel for her new potential ally—she wouldn't dare call them friends any time soon—but after the Incident, she had been desperate to bond with her father, and so she had learned to lose with grace just so that he would keep playing with her. Severus wasn't one to put up with pouting and passive-aggressiveness for very long, and in retrospect she was glad for that.

However, eventually they both grew tired of the game and Draco said, "Do you play Quidditch?"

"No," Hermione replied, a little ashamed despite her lack of interest in the sport. "I've never even flown before. Father doesn't like brooms very much."

Draco was aghast. "You've never ridden a broom before?" He was positively scandalized.

He grabbed her hand and dragged her downstairs and to the yard where a shed full of brooms was waiting. Hermione followed as quickly as she could, not out of eagerness but more so because she didn't want her arm to be torn off. Still, his excitement was contagious and by the time they had reached the shed she was panting and smiling widely.

"They recently came out with the Nimbus 2000, but Father won't let me have one yet," Draco said with a pout. "But I have a few Cleansweeps, you could start out on the Seven." He puffed up his chest proudly. "I'm going to fly on the Nimbus 1700."

Hermione nodded in acceptance, and dared to ask about the differences. As it turned out, there were many, and most of the comparisons were favoring the Nimbus 1700. Hermione was not particularly surprised.

"Can you teach me how to do this?" she asked, holding the broom awkwardly. She had never so much as studied flight theory, and she wasn't about to look like a fool on a broom despite her inexperience.

Draco was a relatively patient teacher, and soon Hermione was hovering several feet off the ground. She immediately began to feel a little queasy, but she decided that she wasn't going to humiliate herself in front of Draco, so she forced herself up until she was twenty feet or so up in the air.

It wasn't terrible, per se, but it was definitely not a form of travel she would prefer, and she definitely would never be a Quidditch player. Still, she flew around slowly while Draco zoomed around her and did corkscrews above and below her. She even found it within herself to laugh at some of his particularly silly or daring antics.

Then the clouds that had gathered started to let down the rain and they were forced to go inside. They still weren't at a point where a conversation wouldn't be awkward, so Draco introduced her to Exploding Snap. Hermione found herself really enjoying spending time with him, despite the flaws she was already picking up on, and she realized that like herself, Draco probably didn't have many children to hang out with all that often.

So they played various games until dinner time, and after dinner continued to have fun until Narcissa bid them to go to bed.

Note for Malfoy Manor I: Regarding the scent of Draco's hair gel: "The Wiggentree is a magical rowan that will protect any touching its trunk from the attack of Dark creatures," as stated in the Harry Potter wiki.

Also, this is pre-Hogwarts Draco. If you think that a kid spoiled by his parents and made to believe that he's literally better than pretty much everyone on the planet is going to be particularly mature for his age or not a sore loser, I'm just going to tell you that we'll have to agree to disagree. However, be assured that Hermione's influence on Draco will be positive (in most ways, not all) and he'll become a better human being (relatively, this is a dark fic featuring Dark Lady Hermione, soo…) as they continue to grow as friends (and more, but who know when THAT will happen? Not this girl.)