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Time for Draco...


Changing Scenery

Chapter 12: (Mis)steps

Once Draco had decided to host a Samhain ball, he realized there was no reason he shouldn't take it one step further. On Monday evening he sent an owl to the Minister for Magic to make an appointment, and he received an owl on Tuesday morning confirming an appointment for precisely two o'clock on Wednesday afternoon. Even if he wasn't everyone's favorite person, the Malfoy name still pulled weight at the Ministry.

He went to the Ministry on Wednesday with his wings tucked away, arriving at the office two minutes early for his meeting. The secretary flirted with him for those two minutes before admitting him to the Minister's office.

Draco strode in confidently, but enough deference that the Minister wouldn't find him presumptuous. Kingsley sat behind his desk, looking curious.

"Have a seat, Mister Malfoy," Kingsley said.

Draco nodded at him, sitting in one of the almost-comfortable chairs in front of the Minister's desk. "Hello, Minister."

"You're looking well, Malfoy. I take it you are recovered from your ordeal?" Kingsley asked neutrally.

"I am, yes." Draco didn't see the need to expand upon his recovery.

When Kingsley didn't say anything in reply, Draco knew that he wouldn't say anything until Draco told him why he'd come. Normally Draco forced the other person in a conversation to speak first, but Draco was in the weaker position and they both knew it.

"I asked to speak with you to discuss Samhain."

Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"It is the custom of the Ministry to host a Samhain ball each year to celebrate, and the ball is traditionally hosted by a member of the Wizengamot or a Department Head."

Kingsley's expression didn't change. "I am aware of the tradition."

Draco bowed his head slightly. "Since I have recently taken up my family's seat on the Wizengamot, I would like to offer Malfoy Manor for this year's ball, and I volunteer to host, if the position is not already taken." He was well aware that it was not, or he would not have offered.

"I see. And why this sudden magnanimity?"

They both knew it wasn't a magnanimous gesture. For one, hosting a Ministry ball, while expensive, was usually considered a social coup. "The Malfoy name has…suffered in recent years. I would like the chance to redeem my family's name, in at least some small way."

Kingsley stared at him for a long moment, hands clasped over his stomach. Draco maintained his air of perfect calm. Political games needed a cool head and great patience. His father had taught him that, if nothing else.

Finally, he nodded. "Very well. I trust you require no assistance with planning?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Draco shook his head anyway. "I'm sure I can manage." His mother would be thrilled.

"Very good. Oh, and the Auror department will be at your disposal for assistance with security and crowd control, of course." Kingsley said it as though it was an afterthought, but it was as much a warning as anything. Fortunately, it played directly into Draco's plans.

I'd be happy to have a certain Auror at my disposal. "I'm sure I'd be glad of their assistance."

"Good. Well, I look forward to the invitation," Kingsley said, a slight twist of his mouth that could almost be a smile.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Minister," Draco said, standing. He held out his hand and Kingsley shook it, standing briefly.

Draco left, knowing he was dismissed. He flashed a smile at the secretary on his way out.

Upon Apparating home, he found his mother in the Blue Parlor having afternoon tea. She was reading a book, but she laid it aside when he walked in.

"Draco, dear." She poured him a cup of tea – the house elves always provided two cups – and then prepared it to his liking. "How are you?" she asked, handing him the cup.

Draco took a sip before replying. "Excellent, thank you, Mother." He took another sip. "I just had a delightful chat with the Minister for Magic."

His mother betrayed no hint of surprise. "Indeed? And how is Minister Shacklebolt?"

"He was very pleased with my suggestion of hosting the Ministry's Samhain Ball at the Manor. I assured him that you more than able to take up the task of planning such an important event," Draco said, smiling slightly.

"That's not much time to plan an event," she said, tapping a finger against her cup and looking at him with mild censure.

"I apologize for the short notice," he said, inclining his head slightly.

"It's no matter," his mother said, waving a hand elegantly. "However, I am sure Daphne would be a great help to me, given how little time there is until Samhain."

Draco was quite sure his mother did not need Daphne Greengrass's help. He gritted his teeth. "I am sure she would."

"I'll invite her over this weekend. We had such a lovely luncheon together before, so you must join us again, Draco." His mother smiled at him sweetly.

Lovely, my arse. "As always, I'd be delighted, Mother."

"Excellent. Well, I shall see to the invitations immediately. They must be sent out as soon as possible."

Draco set down his teacup. "Thank you for attending to this, Mother."

"Of course, dear."

Draco rose and then nodded at her before heading to his office. Even though he would have much rather been doing other things, business would not take care of itself.

His mother was true to her word, and the invitations went out on Friday. The Malfoys had a large owlrey, but even so, it took nearly all day for the invitations to be delivered. The most important guests received their invitations earlier, of course. Draco had ensured that in addition to the Minister and several department heads, Potter and Granger received their invitations in the first round of owls.

It wasn't until Friday afternoon while sitting reviewing some patent applications that Draco realized the obvious problem with inviting Granger to the Manor. He'd hardly forgotten the war, and all the terrible things that had happened within the Manor during the year Voldemort had made it his home, but since the Manor had been extensively remodeled, most days he was able to avoid thinking about it. But of course Granger will think about that! Draco quickly summoned his owl before writing a note to her. By the time his eagle owl arrived, Draco had completed his note. He attached the parchment to the owl's leg before sending him on his way.

He was shocked to receive a reply only an hour later. It was terse, and scrawled in a way which suggested that she had either been in a hurry or very upset, but it still made his heartbeat kick up a notch.

Malfoy,

Sunday. 2 o'clock.

Hermione Granger

Saturday passed interminably slow. He went through the house meticulously, looking for anything which might remind Granger of her previous visit, but his mother had been extremely thorough in her efforts to redo the Manor. He also spent more than an hour wrestling with the wards in preparation for her visit.

The only interruption to his thoughts and his efforts was the threatened lunch with Daphne. Unfortunately, Astoria had not come along and so there was no buffer for Daphne's blatantly obvious flattery and flirtation. Draco wasn't able to choke down more than a cucumber sandwich during the hour he was forced to sit and entertain 'their guest,' as his mother had called her. I didn't invite her over! Finally, when he deemed he'd been tortured enough, and with his meager lunch threatening to reappear if Daphne touched his arm one more time, he excused himself, saying he had work that needed his urgent attention.

At ten minutes before two o'clock on Sunday afternoon, Draco was standing precisely five feet away from the Apparition point outside the Manor's wards. He'd included the coordinates in the note he'd sent to Granger, and he trusted her to be on time, if not early. He had his wings out but tucked neatly against his back; he'd considered hiding them completely, but realized that with one of his mates so close, they'd be likely to come out anyway and he didn't want to startle her with their sudden reappearance when she'd probably already be on edge.

When a whoosh of air and a soft crack signaled her arrival five minutes later, he was ready. He steadied her gently and then forced himself to take a step back. Even that small contact had his Veela at attention and his wings ruffled. "Hello, Granger."

She smoothed down her coat with hands that shook the tiniest bit. "Malfoy."

Draco couldn't help but notice the tight lines around her eyes and mouth. He knew this visit would be hard, but he was glad she'd agreed to it at all. He held out his arm. "Shall we?" When she only gave his arm a suspicious look, he explained. "You need to have contact with me for the wards to accept you."

He didn't tell her that he'd arranged it so that when they stepped through the wards together, they would be keyed to her. He didn't want anything about the Manor to be unwelcoming to her. Because this will be her home as well, if I have anything to say about it. His Veela seemed contented by that thought.

She hesitated a moment longer before accepting his arm. "Are they blood wards?" she asked as they started walking toward the house, clearly trying to keep her mind occupied.

He nodded. "Yes, put in place by the first Malfoy to build on this ground and renewed every generation."

"How are you planning on opening them for the ball?"

"The invitations are keyed to the wards. Anyone holding an invitation with their name on it will be able to access the wards on the night of Samhain, but only that night."

"Clever," she murmured, clearly distracted by the ripple of the wards as they stepped onto Malfoy property.

For Draco, walking through the wards normally felt like walking through a ripple of water, but this time there was a tingle that sparked along his skin. From the way Hermione held up her hand and examined it, she'd felt it as well. It felt nearly the same as the spark when he'd shaken her hand in her office.

As they got closer to the house, Draco noticed Hermione's complexion grow paler.

"I thought we could start with a tour of the gardens–"

"No, thank you," Hermione interrupted softly. She cleared her throat. "I'd rather go…there…first." She glanced up at him, her mouth set firmly.

"Whatever you'd like," he agreed. Forever.

They finally reached the steps leading up to the front door, which swung open when they reached the porch. If Hermione's grip on his arm tightened when they stepped inside, he wasn't going to mention it.

The house elf who'd opened the door greeted them. "Welcome, Master Draco, Mistress Hermione. Can Lotty be taking your coats?"

Draco stepped back and helped Hermione take off her light jacket, leaving her in a soft cream sweater and blue muggle trousers. He wasn't surprised she'd worn muggle clothes. She's beautiful anyway. He handed her jacket to Lotty, who waited patiently for Draco to remove his own outer robe before Disapparating with a soft pop.

Hermione remained facing away from him for a moment, her head turning to examine the large foyer.

"It looks different," she said, voice neutral. She finally turned back around to face him.

"We redecorated. It was the first thing my mother did after she was cleared by the Wizengamot," he explained. He offered her his arm again. "Shall we?"

She stared at his arm for a moment before squaring her shoulders. "Yes."

Draco didn't say anything as they walked down the hallway that led to drawing room. He drew her to a stop in front of a wooden door carved with woodland scenes. She dropped his arm. He paused with his hand on the door handle. "Are you ready?"

She looked at him and nodded.

He opened the door and stood aside to let her enter.

The room had been altered as completely as possible. It was smaller than it had been – part of the space had been used to create a solarium on the other side at the end of the hallway. Where it had been dark and dim, his mother had brought light and warmth. The walls were painted pale peach, and the furniture was all new and done in various warm shades to complement the walls.

Draco stood near the door and let her deal with her demons, even though the Veela was clawing at his mind for him to go and comfort her. But he knew this was one battle she wanted and needed to fight alone. He watched as she walked into the center of the room, shoulders slightly hunched and arms wrapped around herself. She glanced around once and then seemed to stare at something he couldn't see. He doubted her mind was that occupied by the painting of a unicorn in a forest that hung on the wall in front of her.

He wasn't sure how long they stood in that room, the silence wrapping around them. He couldn't help but be caught up in his own memories of that day as he watched her.

Months of terror and constant anxiety had weighed on his shoulders and then seeing her, battered and bruised and starved, dragged into the room by Snatchers, he'd realized exactly how far he'd fallen. Watching her being tortured at the hand of his aunt had been excruciating, and he hadn't even been at the end of that knife. He hadn't been able to turn away, even though part of him desperately hadn't wanted to watch her lose her mind, but part of him had needed to bear witness to her bravery. And part of him had wanted to throw himself in front of her. Now he knew, of course, why he'd been so protective of her despite hating her for most of his childhood, but that wasn't why he'd fallen a little in love with her.

A soft voice disturbed his thoughts.

"Thank you."

Draco jerked his head up to look at her. She was still standing in the center of the room, but her arms were at her sides and her head was raised proudly.

He nearly choked on his shame and guilt. "You have nothing to thank me for."

She tilted her head. "Thank you for letting me face my demons." She glanced around again. "This room holds no ghosts for me. Not anymore."

Merlin, she is amazing. "I'm glad to hear that."

She walked toward him. When she stood in front of him, she watched him for a moment before reaching up with one hand and gently tracing his jaw. "I forgive you, Draco."

He closed his eyes against the burning sensation that threatened. I don't deserve your forgiveness. "I wouldn't have asked that of you."

"I know. But I do," she said simply, her hand still cupping his cheek.

He opened his eyes. A tear was dripping down her cheek and he gently wiped it away. "Thank you," he said. And he knew it wasn't enough to say everything he meant, but he wasn't sure he could ever say all of that.

She gave him a sad little smile and let her hand drop.

They were both silent for a moment.

"Do you want to see the rest of the house?" Draco asked, realizing that they were still standing in a room she'd probably never really be comfortable in.

She hesitated. "I'm not sure I'm quite up for that," she finally replied.

He could understand that. "How about a cup of tea?"

She considered for a moment. "Yes, I think that would be nice."

He stepped away slightly and offered her his arm again. She took it without hesitating this time and he could have cheered. He led her out of the room, closing the door softly behind them, and then to the breakfast room his mother had designed. It was adjacent to the kitchen, but muffling charms built into the doorway kept out the noise from the house elves at work.

He guided her into a seat at the pale wooden table set in a large alcove created by a wide bay window. When she was settled, he took the seat across from her after quickly Vanishing the back of the chair to make room for his wings. He summoned Pipsy with a snap.

Pipsy appeared with a soft crack. "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Tea, please, Pipsy."

"Of course, Master Draco!" Pipsy bowed and then popped out again.

Granger regarded him steadily. "You treat your house elves well."

He wasn't sure if it was a question, but he decided to treat it as one. "I like to think that I've learned from some of my father's mistakes." He smirked slightly.

He was pleased to see Granger smile a little in response. "I suppose it took you long enough."

He shrugged. "Some lessons take longer than others."

Pipsy popped in and floated the tea tray onto the table before popping out again.

Draco picked up the pot and poured them both a cup of tea. "Milk or sugar?"

Hermione looked at him, eyebrows creased. "A splash of milk, please."

He added the milk to her cup and then fixed his own. When he looked up again, she was still looking at him as though he were a puzzle she couldn't figure out.

"Yes?"

"You're not what I expected."

Draco tilted his head, taking a small sip of tea before setting his cup down. "In what way?"

Her lips quirked. "Well, the wings for one thing. You didn't have them out when you, uh, came to visit."

She looked over his shoulder at them and he couldn't help but extend the right wing into the room, flaring the feathers. The urge to show off for his mate could only be restrained so much. She gasped softly and his Veela hummed in appreciation. He brought it back in after a moment, but he did relax both of his wings from the tight position he'd been holding them in all afternoon.

"I don't usually have them out in public." He didn't say whether or not he regarded as being or public or not. Have to keep her guessing at least a little. There was no small part of him that wanted her to do a bit of the chasing.

"Can you fly?" she asked, still staring at the curve visible above his shoulder and apparently choosing not to follow down the road he'd left open.

Draco lifted his wings slightly and the soft breeze stirred the ends of his hair. "Yes." And he couldn't keep the pleased smile off his face.

"Really? So do you have all the Veela abilities? Or just some? Are there any notable differences between male and female Veela? There isn't nearly as much written on male Veela, and they're quite rare of course, and none of the information is first-hand, like there is for female Veela." She trailed off, switching her gaze from his wings to his eyes. She blushed and then looked down. She took a sip of tea. "You don't have to tell me, of course, if you don't want to."

Draco wanted to crow with the excitement running through his veins at the thought that Granger was curious about him. She wants to know things about me! She's interested! He kept his thoughts to himself, though, not wanting to frighten her away just when she was beginning to trust him. "I have some books you might be interested in, if you'd like to visit the library?"

When she stared at him with wide eyes and nearly dropped her teacup, he knew he had her.


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