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Malfoy Manor II: A Disappointing Revelation

In which Hermione finds out that Draco is forced to be narrow-minded because of his blood status and promptly decides that that's not okay. Her plans for her regime as a Dark Lady change.

There were only five more days until she and Draco and the rest of the new Hogwarts students were due to be at King's Crossing, and surprisingly, Hermione wasn't looking forward to it quite as much as she had expected she would.

Three days in the Malfoys' company, especially Draco's, had made Hermione realize what it meant to have a friend. Sure, Draco wasn't as inherently intelligent as she was, but academic intelligence did not translate into social grace, which Draco had in spades—unless the person in question was a Mudblood. Hermione didn't really find that too upsetting though; she was a Half-Blood, Draco was Pure-Blood, and she expected that any Mudbloods—oh, she knew she was supposed to call them Muggle-borns, but in the company of people like the Malfoys, it would be construed as being sympathetic, and that wasn't good for relations with them—would be even less intelligent than any Pure-Blood or Half-Blood, and therefore they were all but insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Anyways, Draco had social skills down to an art, and Hermione found herself feeling particularly socially stunted around him. Draco, while perhaps not the most overall intelligent person out there (Hermione would soon find out that Draco was, in fact, exceedingly intelligent for his age—she was just an outlier and so above everyone else that even the boy who would always be in second place behind her in grades was still divided from her by a large margin), well, Draco knew how to play people. Hermione hadn't realized it until before she went to bed after the first day that she had unknowingly stepped into a game of wits, and soon after had come to the conclusion that if she was going to survive anywhere—even Gryffindor, and especially Hufflepuff—she would have to take a page out of Draco Malfoy's book and, well, not copy, but learn from him.

She wasn't a social butterfly and she wasn't expecting a legion of friends, but now that she had Draco, she found that she would at least like to have a small social group that she could rely on. For that reason, she was starting to hope she ended up in Slytherin, because if Draco chose to stay friends with her beyond this short vacation at the Manor, then she would be able to rely on his skills and somehow fit herself into whatever group of people flocked to him. She knew there would be, simply due to the fact that he was attractive, but mostly, well, he was filthy rich.

Even if it meant having her father be her Head of House.

They were sitting in front of the pond by the patio where she'd had her first-ever brunch, and Draco was poking the water with a stick listlessly. Hermione was on her front, wiggling her fingers beneath the surface to see if she could convince any of the fish to come nibble on her fingertips.

"Would you rather a Crucio for ten minutes or being under Imperius for a week?" Hermione asked. They had been asking each other odd questions on and off since their arrival at the pond. Although neither knew it, the game was similar to the Muggle game "20 Questions."

"Crucio for ten," Draco said simply. "Doesn't last as long."

"Does a lot more damage though," she argued, though she felt the same way. "Could mess you up for life, if it doesn't drive you insane during." Draco nodded in acknowledgement.

"Muggle parents or being a werewolf?" Draco asked after a minute.

Hermione shuddered. "Muggle parents for sure." Then, very curious as to how he'd answer for himself, she said, "You?"

"Death."

"That's not one of the options."

"Werewolf then," he said.

"But you'd be all alone," Hermione pointed out. But she wasn't about to say that having Muggle parents would be better, because to a Malfoy, it definitely wouldn't be. Hermione herself wasn't too keen on the idea either, but her aversion to werewolves was much greater than his.

Draco playfully growled at her and then snapped his teeth in her direction. "Then I'd just turn you." It was said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Hermione simultaneously blushed and chilled. On the one hand, Draco was probably her best (only) friend. On the other hand, she'd rather die than be a werewolf.

The only solution was to change the topic. Violently. "Marry a beautiful, smart, perfect Mudblood," Draco's eyes widened in horror at the route the question was taking, but it was payback for his question even if he didn't know it, "or a hideous, stupid, completely insane Pureblood?"

It took Draco a moment to ponder this, and that had been Hermione's intention. The fact that he was not automatically going for the Pureblood was indicative of Draco's only nearly successful indoctrination. Not that Hermione particularly cared whether he was indoctrinated or not, but she didn't want a carbon copy of Lucius Malfoy, no matter how much she liked him. More so, though, she wanted to see Draco do some legitimately critical thinking.

He countered with a question. "Is divorce an option?"

"No. Once you marry them, it's forever." She paused, then added, "You're not allowed to have mistresses, either, and she'll live longer than you do, so no matter what you do, you'll be married to her for the rest of your life. You also can't murder her or get out of the marriage in any way."

Draco looked about to speak, and Hermione had to add one stipulation.

"You also have to sleep with her at least once a week for the rest of your life."

His eyes narrowed, and she could tell he knew she was backing him into a corner. Then again, it wasn't like she had been subtle about it.

He looked a little green in the face, but finally said, "The Pureblood."

Hermione scowled. She had honestly not expected him to be so narrow-minded. It was immensely disappointing, honestly.

"You?" he asked, sounding smug. He seemed to think this would be a similar conundrum for her.

"Obviously the Mudblood," she said simply, and at the surprised look on his face, whether at her decision or the quickness of her response, she didn't know.

He looked about to object angrily, and Hermione headed him off with her own explanation.

"I'm a Half-Blood," she told him. "No matter who I marry, my children will be Half-Bloods. And even if I have to choose between the two, I'm not going to make myself miserable for the rest of my life." She gave him a hard, calculating look. "You could possibly overcome the fact that your wife is a Mudblood, or just ignore it. You'll have the perfect woman and even if her blood isn't what you wanted it to be, her personality, looks, and overall aspects will let you come to love her over time. The shame of marrying one would fade. But if I married the Pureblood, even though his blood status would be preferable to the Mudblood's, I'd literally be miserable for the rest of my life. Honestly, I'd rather be happy despite the disgrace. And people have short memories. Eventually the people who mattered would forget or not care—because he would be likable—and those who weren't worth it would leave.

"Most of all, though, I wouldn't want friends who would punish me for choosing to be happy."

Draco stared at her for a long moment before turning away. He was silent and she knew he was contemplating her answer.

It was quiet for a while, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised when finally one of the bigger fish took a tentative nibble of her fingers, which were now a little chilly from the water.

"You don't understand."

Hermione startled, not having expected Draco to speak again, even though his voice was quiet and barely above a whisper. She had even considered that he might get mad enough to storm off. But, at least for now, that hadn't happened.

He was staring off into the forest, eyes glazed with thought. "I'd lose everything," he said softly, as though not wanting to be overhead. "My parents would disown me. Any Slytherin friends I make would automatically shun me. I'd become a-a blood traitor. I'd be surrounded by Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and honestly, it just wouldn't be worth it. Even if she was perfect, I'd lose everything except her. And I don't think that even the most perfect wife and family would be worth that."

Now Hermione was the one forced into thought. She'd never hated Muggle-borns like Draco had, even if she despised their parents for being Muggles. And some might say the apple never fell far from the tree, but Hermione was then made to give it more thought than she originally would have.

Surely the fact that the Muggle-born would be influenced by magic and wizarding culture could break them free of their Muggle ties? What if, once they were found to be magical, they could be taken in by magical families and break them away from the roots that would threaten to sour them as people?

She didn't think that just because they had Muggle parents should automatically be a death sentence, because they were, inherently, magical. They just happened to have an unlucky background. But that could be mitigated if they were cut off from that, right? Maybe before they even knew who their parents were. She knew there was a registry of wizards and witches, even Muggle-borns, that started from birth. Couldn't that be used to take the children away at birth? And then with a simple memory charm, they and anyone else who knew about the birth taking place could be convinced that the child had been stillborn.

It would be a little tricky, but absolutely not impossible.

She considered these ideals. She pulled her hand out of the pond and stretched out on the grass. She wanted to voice her thoughts to Draco, but she didn't think she trusted him enough to share them with him yet. But she figured that if things continued to develop the way they were, it wouldn't be impossible to convert him to her cause. And then he could be the Pureblood face of her movement, drawing in other Purebloods and taking them away from Voldemort.

And, it occurred to her now, with her new philosophy regarding Muggle-borns, it might be easier to get Half-Bloods on her side, and perhaps even Muggle-borns themselves once they could see the truth. It would be hard, but again, not impossible.

They sat like that for a while, until one of the House-Elves called them in for dinner. As they stood up, they shared a look, and there was implicit understanding that this discussion would be shared with no one else. Then, as though neither of them had had a life-changing revelation, they walked back up to the Manor.

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