After reuniting with her mum, Hermione was sort of on a high of facing things head-on. On the morning of the quidditch charity match, Hermione read through her romancing outline (which she'd lovingly dubbed the Malfoy Ploy). It suddenly appeared quite long to her. She wondered if the middle bits really mattered so much. Honestly, she found those bits the most boring. She preferred the back story and thrilling finale. She lived her life in meticulous details and it was exhausting. Don't get her wrong, the payoff was great. She loved her job and was pretty content with her life.
But she hadn't had a plan when she went to speak with her mum. Not even the slightest. Not even one of her late nights, wide awake and imagining the best and worst scenarios could have prepared her for her mother's hesitant acceptance. All she'd had then were the words of Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy.
Perhaps she was overdue to skip a few steps every now and then. They'd done the chance encounters. Blasé at best. He'd complimented her appearance just a week ago. Very satisfying, but there'd be plenty of time after.
As she sipped her coffee, she ticked off items that she didn't feel were really that important. Hermione and Draco were not characters in some story, after all. They were people with flaws, and Hermione's flaw was her less than patient personality. She didn't usually see the need to wait. She hadn't pursued politics for that exact reason. As someone not professionally in politics, she could lend her support as freely and as aggressively as she wished.
Perhaps it was time to pursue Draco Malfoy in the same way. Her head was foggy from her happiness from the previous night's overall success of a dinner with her mum, so she didn't feel the need to think about it too much. Anyway, it was nearly time to go grab Scor from his father, and when she'd realized that she was too busy forcing her hair into submission and even tapping on a little bit of makeup to really reason through any vague plan that might form otherwise.
She flooed over to Draco's place with another tin of biscuits among her things. As soon as the flames died down, Scorpius was upon her, expecting to be picked up. When Hermione'd situated the boy on her hip, she turned to greet Narcissa. The handoff of Scorpius was common between them on days when Narcissa couldn't watch Scor during the game and Hermione'd had plans preventing her from watching him for the hour or so before the game.
It was a perfectly cordial passing of the tot. Sometimes they even had a cuppa together. Today was different, however.
"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Hello, Hermione, dear. As always, I must ask you to call me Narcissa."
Hermione bowed her head a bit in acknowledgment. "Of course. Old habits and all that."
Narcissa waved a hand to dismiss the subject and moved back to the tea table. "Are you quite excited for the charity game today?"
Hermione sat at the table and moved Scorpius, who was patiently-impatiently waiting for the adult small talk to end so he could tell Hermione everything she'd missed since they'd seen each other last (Over a week ago! There was so much to say and hardly any time to say it!).
"Yes, um, quite," Hermione said, carefully preparing her tea and then levitating Scorpius's tiny milk-tea next to her so he could reach it.
Instead of the usual handoff, Hermione and Scorpius would be heading to the game with Narcissa. After all, Narcissa and Hermione were both very involved with charities, especially in the realm of fundraising. They'd even made an excellent team on more than one occasion, both silently coming to the agreement that Narcissa would take the boujier crowd and Hermione'd take the more 'common' folk, so to speak.
Today, they would not simply be rubbing shoulders in passing. No, they would be sitting side-by-side in the bleachers for however many hours the participating quidditch teams chose to drag this game out. The proceeds from the ticket sales would go towards the Foundation for Research of Cross-Magical-Species Illnesses in addition to whatever larger donations the more well-to-do attendees felt inclined to contribute. On top of it all, the press from the event would draw more attention to the cause.
"I've baked biscuits for all of us to share during the game," Hermione said, hoping to not let the conversation drop off awkwardly.
Narcissa's eyes sparkled more than Hermione had expected. "Oh? Well, Draco told me about the lovely biscuits you brought by last weekend. I must admit, I was quite jealous to hear their praises only to find our boys hadn't saved me a crumb."
Scorpius cut in, recognizing the topic was something he could speak on. "Dad let me have two cookies when I got home from Nana's, and then he and I got to split one every night until we ran out!"
The women oooed, falsely impressed by the number of sweets he'd been allowed this week. With that, all adult conversation ceased, and Scorpius was finally allowed to regale Hermione with his news, his nana supporting many of his stories with the finer details that often escaped a child.
Hermione felt at ease listening to Scorpius fill her in on everything she'd missed. She commended him on having eaten all his broccoli despite not liking it and then nuzzled his head to commiserate with his difficulties in picking the perfect crayon color for the drawing he had made for his nana's sitting room. Scorpius only stopped speaking for very brief moments to focus on carefully lifting his cup of tea with both of his tiny hands and take a big sip.
It was on one such moment that Narcissa very quickly interjected with the exciting news that her grandson was so clearly forgetting to tell Hermione despite having told her all that morning that he was going to blurt it out as soon as Hermione arrived.
"Scorpius, might you wish to tell Hermione what happened last night when your father was putting you to bed?"
Scorpius pulled the cup away from his face, a bit of tea dribbling down his chin, and gasped in excitement. He put his cup back on the table and then looked up at Hermione's face with wide, proud eyes.
"I did magic."
Hermione was silent a moment before she gasped in understanding. She squeezed the sweet boy to her, kissed him on his forehead, and then gently pushed him away so she could look at his face.
"Brilliant! Scorpius, you are an absolutely brilliant boy! Do you know that?"
Scorpius smiled so big his face hurt. "Dad said so, too!"
"What magic did you do, then?"
At this Scorpius giggled, covering his mouth and glancing at his nana. Narcissa, who had been watching the interaction between Hermione and Scorpius with interest and infection, smiled softly and winked at the boy.
Scorpius leaned over to whisper what he'd done in Hermione's ear, despite his nana already knowing. "Dad was reading me a story about a princess, only she doesn't know she's a princess, and there was a gown that was supposed to be pink or blue, but the fairies couldn't decide. I don't remember why the fairies were making the dress, but they kept changing it. And then! And then! Mione, I closed my eyes to imagine what it would look like for clothes to just change colors back and forth, and then Dad hugged me and I opened my eyes and – and Dad's pajamas were changing colors, Mione! Pink and blue!"
He'd forgotten he was meant to be whispering about halfway through telling his story and had pulled back to add wild gestures to his story. Hermione listened with bated breath. She wanted to know every detail of what had happened. She couldn't believe Scorpius had done his first bit of accidental magic. Had she been so young when she had? Or was he simply growing up before her very eyes?
She blinked away the sudden tears that had sprung to her eyes and tickled Scorpius' sides. "Brilliant, brilliant boy!"
Narcissa sipped her tea silently, happy with what she'd seen. She'd not had much to doubt about Hermione. She'd interacted with her in passing many times, and she knew both Draco and Scorpius praised her. However, as a woman who had herself been victim to and become a meddling mother, she could not suppress the need to verify her care for her boys – their boys now, she supposed. She had seen Astoria, a girl Narcissa had so believed to be the perfect option of a society wife, abandon a husband and infant without hesitation.
As such, Narcissa was reasonably cautious when she'd heard that Hermione Granger had become somewhat of a fixture in her family's life. She began reworking her schedule to ensure she could watch Scorpius on the days when Hermione would be watching him during Draco's afternoon game. The girl's affection for her grandson was easy to see, and if she'd had even a lingering doubt about that, today's display of affection would have snuffed it out.
Unfortunately, Narcissa has not had the chance to witness Hermione and Draco together. That wouldn't stop Narcissa Malfoy from achieving her goal, however. Hermione may be enamored with Scorpius, but that did not mean she was romantically inclined towards Draco.
To better judge the situation, Narcissa had decided to organize 'an intimate gathering' of a couple dozen: players, investors, and friends. The party would take place several hours after the game to allow for everyone to recharge and ready themselves for the gathering. Hermoine, though she was not a fan of parties, agreed that it would be an excellent opportunity to squeeze donors for extra galleons. Together through (exhausted) owls, they had managed to organize what was sure to be a lovely (and financially charitable, of course.)
That, however, was hours away. Narcissa, although loathe to disrupt her grandson's valued time with 'his Mione,' idly acknowledge the time. This was sufficient to propel Hermione to her feet, Scorpius quickly swung back to her hip.
As she awkwardly gathered her belongings, Hermione exclaimed, "Oh goodness! We must get going! The stadium is always so busy, and we'll want some time to get situated."
"A most excellent point, my dear. Shall I take your bag, since you are carrying Scorpius?"
Hermione shook her head and explained her modified featherlight charm to the, although she expressed her thanks all the same.
And with that, the little group was off.