Chapter Nine

Uncomfortable Truth

Hermione did as Narcissa requested and cleared her work schedule for Wednesday and was how she found herself entering a decadent boutique in the early afternoon, a place where Narcissa had insisted she came for her party gown. The party that she'd finally talked to Malfoy about after dinner the night before. She'd decided to go ahead with it. The news has been announced and it'd have been rather embarrassing to go back on it. Especially as everyone knew about it. The bouts of random people who'd approached her with congratulations had at first shocked her but was now getting irritating.

Which is exactly how she felt when, after air kissing Narcissa, an aristocratic older woman had started congratulating her before she droned on and on about some high society event that she'd insisted Hermione attend. She nodded and smiled politely until she'd finally left.

Hermione sighed in relief at the sight of her retreating back, and Narcissa was matching her energy, shocking Hermione as she'd no indication of being irritated by the woman.

"Henrietta Avery.", Narcissa said, "Terrible woman, never shuts up", Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the words she'd spoken before opening the door to the boutique. Hermione followed her in and looked up to the sound of the bell trilling, signalling their entrance. The sight of the store inside, she hadn't been prepared for. It was well lit and immaculately furnished, all white and sleek with exquisite gowns on display. She'd never seen anything like it as the awe lit up her eyes.

"Lady Malfoy!", a slender woman approached them, she had a pair of spectacles on the bridge of her nose and her black hair slicked back. Hermione noted she also appeared East Asian by the slant of her eyes, before the lithe woman continued to speak, "I am honoured that you'd choose me to dress Miss Granger for her engagement ball", she smiled, her teeth two dozens of pearly whites.

"You know I always expect the best, and you, Emiko, are the best, ", Narcissa replied with a smile, "Hermione", she turned to face her, "meet designer Emiko Nakamura. Emiko, Hermione Granger", she gestured at the correct individual when appropriate.

Hermione extended a hand to Emiko, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms Nakamura", the older woman took her hand before replying,

"Dear, do call me Emiko, and the pleasure is all mine. Truly", her ever present smile still visible. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Emiko flicked her wrist and the store magically closed from the outside, ensuring complete exclusivity.

"Congratulations on your match and your official engagement! Do you have any idea of what type of dress you'd like?", she asked with an arched brow, straight to business, Hermione liked that.

"No I hadn't given it much thought", she answered truthfully, a frown on her face.

Emiko tutted at her response, "A colour in mind?", Hermione shook her head no and watched as a thoughtful expression crept on her flawless porcelain skin. Emiko must've been older than Narcissa yet still looked incredibly youthful. Her skin glowed. An idea struck.

"I want to glow", Hermione blurted, "Gold. I want to wear gold", she decided definitely.

Emiko nodded her head in agreement, "An excellent colour choice for you skin tone", Hermione felt a blush grace her face.

"A very fitting choice for the Golden Girl", Narcissa remarked from her side and she wasn't sure why, but the comment irked her.

Hermione had thought this was going to be just picking a dress from a rack and she'd get on with her day, however, the hours she'd spent in the boutique suggested otherwise. She'd been measured meticulously by a magical tape, sifted through dozens of colour shades and was now looking at fabrics swatches. This was so not her forte. She'd spent majority of the time conversing with Narcissa and allowing her to take the reins of the situation as she seemed to be more aware of the latest fashions.

"You know, Emiko designed my own engagement and wedding dresses, amongst others. I'm really pleased you're allowing her to create yours", Narcissa said, not lifting her studious gaze from the slew of samples on table. Truth be told, from what she saw already in the shop, Hermione was glad Emiko was creating her dress too. Her pieces were divine.

"Me too, she's an amazing designer. I actually never expected to ever need to have a gown specifically designed for me", Hermione admitted how surreal the situation was for her. Narcissa laughed at her words.

"Get used to it, Miss Granger. You're life is going to change drastically once you become a Malfoy.", so she'd already been told. "Trust me.", the words more daunting than reassuring.

-xXx-

After a stop at a café for a spot of tea and pastry, Hermione and Narcissa went their separate ways with intentions to reunite in the evening to go over the final invite list for the party. They'd briefly discussed her parents. A conversation she'd have to have with Malfoy soon, and, whilst uncomfortable, it also inspire her brain to formulate a plan with Malfoy. So she went home and picked up a quill as she began to pen a note to him, deciding to make the most of her day off.

Malfoy,

I have a plan. Let me know when you are free and I will make the necessary arrangements.

Hermione Granger.

The note was as simple and to the point as they usually were, an attempt to avoid making a complex situation more confusing. She gave it with a treat to her barn owl Misty and watched her swiftly take off and soar into the sky until she became invisible to her naked eye.

Without much thought, she made her way to her couch before picking up the book on Ancient Runes which she'd taken from the library in Malfoy Manor. It was an unknown title to her and so had intrigued her profoundly, along with several others. She'd been hesitant to ask to take them home but Malfoy had simply shrugged at her request and told her to help herself. She had been elated, her eyes bright with excitement.

She'd been so absorbed in the text, she hadn't realised Misty's return until the signalling pecking at the window occurred. Immediately she rose and made way to her, picking another treat in the process. The parchment, however, was completely different to the one she'd written on. It was higher quality, thicker yet surprisingly not marked with the Malfoy family crest like Malfoy's usual notes arrived written on. It almost felt…magical. She was sure she could feel it thrumming through her fingertips.

Granger,

I have charmed this parchment, similarly to one in my own possession, in order for us to communicate without the timely restraints of owls. Once you've read my words they will disappear almost instantly and allow you to respond. Your words will also remain until I am able to read them.

Yours, Draco Malfoy.

Ps: How does 6 sound?

As his words had stated, the letters began disappearing swiftly after she'd read them, the parchment glowing in their absence. Whilst the idea was a good one, something felt… off about the parchment in her hands. It reminded her of when she was at Hogwarts and- she banished that train of thought from her mind. It would do nobody any good.

Deeply inhaling, she started to write on the charmed parchment. The irony of them basically muggle texting didn't escape her.

-xXx-

Draco arrived at the spot she'd instructed at precisely 5:55. Whilst Granger preferred to be exact with her punctuality, Draco preferred to turn up at the desired location early. He always had, ever since he was child. He had an incessant need to be first in everything. Probably evidence of his spoilt upbringing, he rolled his eyes at the thought. He wasn't even that spoilt.

He took the extra minutes to scope his surroundings but nothing looked familiar to him, he supposed it was due to the area appearing… rougher than what he was used to. No wonders Granger had made it a point that he dressed casually.

Thinking of Granger, she rematerialised via apparation at that exact moment, the crack in the air testament to her arrival. "Malfoy, is that really your casual attire?", she asked stifling a giggle by drawing her lips in her mouth and presenting a thin line in their place.

"Of course, it was the dress code was it not?", he rolled his eyes once again, there was nothing wrong with his black trouser and button down shirt.

"You are correct", she replied her eyes still full of amusement. He took in her appearance and realised they most definitely had a differing of opinion when it came to what was considered causal. She was wearing some blue muggle denim trousers (he couldn't remember what they were called), and a plaid shirt that was open over a white vest top. He vaguely remembered her dressing similarly during their school years. "Your idea of casual seems to be different to mine", she seemingly had similar thoughts to his own.

As they began to walk, Draco following her lead, he casually decided to strike up conversation, "So, how was shopping with mother?", he asked genuinely intrigued.

"Better than I expected. And longer than expected", she said thoughtfully, "I will never understand how choosing a dress can take that long!", she exclaimed exasperatedly and he chuckled at her reaction, expecting that to be the case.

"Be glad my mother planned the engagement, I'm not sure how you'd have fared", he nudged her shoulder with his, rather boldly in his opinion, and she looked mortified at the prospect.

"Oh, Merlin. I hadn't even thought of that", she muttered looking down at the ground as they turned ours the bend of the pavement. "I feel rather guilty now, thanks for that Malfoy!", she slapped his arm like he'd seen Daphne do to Theo many a time, maybe there was hope for them yet. He laughed and she frowned at him with crossed arms, "This isn't funny, you know".

"On the contrary, don't work yourself up. My mother enjoys party planning, trust me. A simple thank you will make her day", he told her and he enjoyed watched the blush creep up her cheeks and settle there.

"Whatever", she mumbled and he realised she was probably uncomfortable with the topic of conversation so changed it promptly. He wasn't sure when he began to care for Granger's comfort levels.

"Granger, care to enlighten me what on earth this interest or yours is?", he truly had no idea, the look of distaste on his face evidence of that. She stopped in her tracks and deeply inhaled before speaking.

"Actually, yes. We're here", she announced and he frowned in confusion.

"Where exactly is here?", he asked, feeling like he was beginning to repeat himself. She led him through a iron gate that was clearly magical as it swung open in response to their appearance. A worn down building stood before them as they made way to the entrance.

"I volunteer here", she answered, looking back at him as she climbed the few stairs before pushing the door open, she must've been familiar to the place if she had such easy access.

He didn't have to ask what she was volunteering for, the kids running in the foyer was evidence enough. It was some sort of children's home. Looking at his surroundings he saw a sign that only further answered his enquiry, Madam Havenglow's Home for Orphans. He thought it was completely on brand for Granger.

A small child, one whose head would barely come above his knees, ran straight into Granger and wrapped her in an embrace. She laughed naturally and moved a hand down to the child's tuff of brown hair. "Hermione!", the child exclaimed, a broad smile taking over her lips.

"Hey Darcy", Hermione similarly smiled down at the small child, "what have you been up to?", she asked as the child took hold of her hand. Hermione allowed herself to be pulled away as the little girl replied until she seemed to remember him and gestured for him to follow.

They waded through children who all greeted Hermione as if they were familiar with her, until the child, Darcy, led them to a lounge. They sat so he followed suit. He was extremely talented in hiding his inner feelings and this was no exception. Truthfully, he felt conflicted. Of course it was admirable that Granger was clearly a regular visitor to these orphans, but also he'd never actually seen anything like it before. Obviously he knew orphans existed, but it's almost as if they just didn't exist in his life. He wasn't sure he'd ever even met an orphan before. It made him, well, uncomfortable.

He shifted in his seat with a grimace on the coach at his unwelcome thoughts. The child was sat in between him and Granger and was talking animatedly with her hands moving erratically with her speech, almost clipping him a few times. And then she turned those green eyes onto him. "Who are you?", she asked inquisitively. He blinked, taken aback from the turn in her conversation with Granger.

"Draco Malfoy", he answered wearily, "nice to meet you Darcy", he continued and she locked shocked that he'd known her name.

"I know who you are, really", he raised an amused brow at her words, " did you know, our names are 80% the same", she told him and once again he was taken aback. She was an odd one, that was for sure.

"Excellent observation", he nodded at the child, actually impressed. She can't have been older than maybe 6. She was clearly quite bright.

"If you changed your name to Drac and I changed my name to Darc, our names would be 100% the same", she continued, seemingly rather pleased by that calculation.

"Correct", he replied, unsure of how to continue this conversation.

"I actually saw you in the paper", his stomach dropped, instantly thinking of the times he'd been plastered over the covers after the battle had ended. For being a Deatheater, for his trial, for his acquittal. "You're going to marry Hermione", that bright smile was now directed at him for the first time, he wasn't sure why the actual reason hadn't crossed his mind. Especially considering the fact she'd have barely even been able to read post war time.

He exhaled audibly, "Yes, it would seem so", he replied, hiding his relief until that relief was ripped away from him.

"What's a Deatheater?", he froze, that feeling in the pit of his stomach consumed him. He didn't miss the way Hermione's eyes widened in panic and the way her face blanched as if on cue. "It said Hermione was a war heroine, everyone's knows that", the child continued on unaware of the reactions of the adults in the room, "but it called you a Deatheater. I've never heard of that word before! When I asked Madame Havenglow I got in trouble but I have to know", Darcy was now clutching his arm, desperate for an answer. She reminded him of a young Granger.

He visibly gulped in preparation of answering, but as if summoned by the mentioning of her name, a stern woman entered the lounge, face cold, "Darcy Rose, I told you you were not to repeat that word in this household", the woman approached them as she scorned the young girl.

"I'm sorry, Madam Havenglow", the young girl mumbled whilst looking down at her hands which lay in her lap. The usually eccentric child had been reduced to a cowering girl. He didn't like how the patron of the house had that affect. Her name gave the completely wrong impression of the woman who stood before them, he'd expected a warm and kind woman. He was wrong.

"Darcy, please leave the room", she ordered and only continued once she'd left, "Hermione, you assured me that Mr Malfoy would be no trouble", she remarked with a weary brow.

"He hasn't been!", she immediately came to his defence, "Nobody could've predicted Darcy would ask him that", her argument, however, was weak even to his own ears.

"I suppose it doesn't help that she hadn't been lying", her lip turned up in subtle disgust as she looked down at him with a raised chin. Subtle, but he still saw it nonetheless. As first impressions go, this was going immensely more terribly than he could've predicted.

"I'd like to clarify, I was coerced into becoming a Deatheater at the age of 16 with threats of harm to my family", he felt the incessant need to justify the actions of his younger self, not to mention she had a majorly disgusting superiority complex.

"Semantics", she shrugged his explanation off, "as far as I am concerned, that ugly scar, which I'm sure is still on your forearm, is all the evidence I need", she sat on a near arm rest, still above them.

"Evidence of what?", he swiftly quipped but she deeply sighed in response.

"Mr Malfoy, I'm not sure if you're aware of what kind of establishment I run", he did know, "but I have 37 children committed to my care, 37 children who have no parents as they'd been slaughtered by people like you".

"Deatheater", he clarified and she nodded her head at his assumption.

"Every single one of those children have become victims of war, they didn't choose this life. But, you see, you chose your life. You chose to join an organisation of monsters", she sneered before visibly composing herself. Her words has truthfully hit a nerve and the vein in neck twitched in reaction.

"I know it makes me a coward, but It's all I could've done to survive. How can you fault me that?", he stressed, feeling the usual guilt eat at him.

"I'm sorry", she amended, "I had no intention of shaming you, Mr Malfoy. It's just it's rather a… difficult topic for me to broach. For every single one of those children, I'm going to have to one day explain why they have no parents", she ended quietly.

"I'm sorry", he repeated her words, "I'm only here to understand Hermione better. If you want me to leave, I will", he offered. The older matron looked… impressed at him.

"No. Hermione was correct in bringing you here. This is the best place to understand her fully", he frowned slightly at her words, unsure what to make of them. Had she been referring to her annoyingly kind attributes? "My issue isn't with you, it's just hard to see past what's sat right in front of me.

"I only request that you leave your past at the door. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr Malfoy", she then dismissed them with her exit of the room, her dark robes billowing behind her.

"Well she's a delight", he remarked slouching back on the couch, he hadn't realised how stiff backed and on edge he'd been.

"I don't think I realised how difficult this was going to be", Granger's voice came out soft and quiet, almost as if she were just talking to herself. He responded anyways.

"What? Bringing me here?", he asked and she blinked in surprise at his words before replying, as if she didn't realise she'd spoken aloud.

She visibly swallowed, "No. Just being with you", her warm eyes bore into his cold ones as he assessed her words.

"I'm sorry", the words all he could muster. Apparently he was making a habit out of apologising, he broke the eye contact unable to look at her for longer. But apparently it was enough. For now. He knew one day they'd have to talk about their pasts with honesty and transparency. He dreaded that day.

She sighed before rising from the sofa and dusting her hands off her pants, "Come on, let go and actually do something", she smiled slightly but it didn't quite look complete.

-xXx-

Hermione had surprisingly enjoyed her time with Malfoy at the orphanage, even after the frosty meeting between him and Madame Havenglow. He'd been much more willing to get involved and help than she'd expected. Despite usually favouring her, it now seemed Darcy was stuck to Malfoy's side. At first, he was rather rigid around her, as if he'd never even seen a child before but once he got used to her, they seemed to develop a cute friendship. She actually enjoyed watching him selflessly play with the children, even Madame Havenglow had seemed impressed by his behaviour. He'd promised the children he'd return, and she actually believed him when he said it. She'd never actually seen him act like this before with anyone. Kind.

They were now sat on their bench in front of the stargazer lilies back at the manor, discussing their days and she was pleased that he'd found the evening rather pleasant. "It doesn't seem right", he blurted out as his back slouched and his neck bent to look at the stars, she was beginning to realise he would always seek the stars subconsciously.

"What doesn't?", she asked before taking a bite from a sandwich from the spread Dipsy had provided them with once they'd arrived. She'd left promptly with instructions to assure Narcissa she'd be in to discuss the invitations once they'd finished with their light meal. She'd been starving so ate freely whilst Malfoy forwent eating anything at all.

"That I live like this", he looked at her, his silver eyes illuminated in the summer evening lighting. "whilst others suffer", she was taken aback by his confession, never expecting such words to come from Draco Malfoy.

"You realise, that this is rather ironic considering you mocked a lot of people in school for being… not so fortunate", she replied with thoughts of the many taunts she'd heard from him toward the Weasleys.

"I know you're referring to the Weasleys.", he rolled his eyes, "I was bought up to see them as blood traitors that bred like vermin", he shrugged and she felt her fingers itch to hex him, her school feelings resurfacing. "But, I suppose they aren't as terribly awful as I'd thought", he over exaggerated as if the words had been pained him to admit them before he continued, "Where as you, Granger, are infinitely worse than I'd thought" his words a sarcastic drawl.

At first she'd been stunned by his words until understanding filled her and she laughed freely. She was sure she'd never laughed like this before with him, she also missed the tender shift in Malfoy's gaze. "Don't worry, the feelings mutual", she jibbed him with a poke to his arm which rested across the back of the bench.

"Granger", he said and she encouraged him to continue, "there's something that's been irking me. Madame Havenglow, why'd she say the orphanage was the best place to understand you?", he asked as all the humour of the prior situation evaporated without haste.

Hermione sighed before shuffling from her position opposite him to right beside him, she similarly to Malfoy rested her neck on the back of the bench and looked up into the sky. Whilst he saw stars and intricate constellations, all she saw was infinite blackness. How she longed to be a star, lost in the amass of darkness that was the sky, with no issues and no purpose but to shine. So simple.

"That's because I am an orphan as well", her voice quite as she finally exposed herself fully to him. "My parents", she inhaled shakily, "I had to obliviate them when… when Deatheaters were killing the parents of muggleborns", she didn't see him flinch at her words, but she felt it resonate through her side, "I sent them to Australia to get them literally as far away as possible. But apparently the universe hates me, they died soon after anyways", her continuous gaze never faltered from the sky, wanting it to come down and swallow her whole at that moment in time, "I'd explain how, but you don't believe in science so you wouldn't even understand", she giggled at her own words, almost feeling borderline manic as a tear fell from the corner crease between her eyelids.

"I had no idea", his words cut through her own depressive thoughts and she tilted her neck to look at him, he was now the one sat up straight backed.

"How would you have?", she asked rhetorically before continuing, "they were just a pair of muggles who died in the back ends of Australia. They died not even knowing they had a daughter", she could she how visibly uncomfortable he was, but this wasn't a comfortable conversation.

"Well, they must've been great people if they raised you", he offered and she sensed the genuineness his words, which, whilst shocking her, did actually make her feel good to hear. It was better than an empty apology for their death. "You're really a special woman, Granger", she'd never seen his eyes so soft in all of the almost ten years she'd known him.

"Do you think they deserved to die?", she asked the morbid question despite her better judgement. The question had been burning her tongue like acid until she finally spat it out. "Any of the muggleborn's parents. Do you think they deserved to die for giving birth to a witch?", her face remained expressionless whilst his was rather stunned. How the roles had reversed, today he was quite the expressive person.

"No. I mean, at the time? Maybe. But now it's abhorrent to even think of it", his face twisted with disgust, she never thought such a look on Draco Malfoy's face would ever bring her relief. "It was easier to think of them as nameless and faceless", his voice quite but fully consuming her. Vibrating through her. "When I saw the Dark Lord murder Professor Burbage, I think that's when I.. when something shifted. I will never forget the life snap out of her eyes", she hadn't actually known that he'd witnessed their Muggle Studies professor death, but she didn't mention it. "And when you… when you..", his voice shook and the rawness shook her insides.

Instinctively she grabbed his leg, "Not yet", she said simply, her voice unwavering, "I'm not ready yet", he nodded at her request and she turned away. She felt his stare on her as she resumed her star gazing. Oh how she wanted to be a star.

-xXx-

AN: Thank you so so so much for all the follows!!

I'm abit conflicted about this chapter, let me know what you think !

I hope you'reready because next chapter we're gonna partyyyyy