False Pretenses

Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Andromeda Black Tonks, Severus Snape

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dysfunctional Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Addiction, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Banter, Friendship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Past Child Abuse, Post-War, Post-Hogwarts, Not Canon Compliant, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue EWE, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone goes through a moment of self-discovery, Unlearning bigotry and prejudice, Slytherins can have loyal friendships, Ensemble Cast, Healing, Slow Burn, A very very slow burn, Draco isn't debonair and perfect because he's broken, Hermione doesn't have a bleeding heart for anything that moves, Character Development

Voldemort was dead. The war was finally over. All were rejoicing except maybe for the Malfoys. Lucius was in Azkaban and the association of the Malfoys with the Dark Lord has ostracized them from society. There was only one way left to salvage their family name. "You want me to marry a-" He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

*A story that uses the most common tropes in Dramione fanfiction... Then changes how it's done.


Author's Notes:

Hello dear readers! Welcome to False Pretenses :) If you're looking for a fluffy, fast-paced, generally light fic full of stereotypical characters, this isn't it. I am a big fan of slow burn stories, and I gravitate towards character-driven ones. This story is a deep dive, a marathon - the journey is the destination. Expect yourselves to be surprised by how much the characters change and mature as you read on.

This is mainly a Dramione fic, but since I adore works that have an ensemble cast, this one has quite the line up as well. Everyone will have their own struggle, and their own moment of growth.

Another heads up: If you didn't take time to read the tags (please do), then I am letting you know now that I can be quite the angsty writer (don't worry there's still a lot of humor in this). I love realistic conflicts and confrontations, as well as depicting trauma and socially relevant issues. Please do take care if you are easily triggered.

This is a story of self-discovery and healing - a story that deals with the grays instead of the blacks and the whites. There are no right or wrong answers :)

I hope you enjoy it!


...

CHAPTER ONE: The Order of the Phoenix

...

"I've gotten word that the Ministry is planning to gradually strip your family of your property, money, and status." Zachary Levinson, the Malfoy family legal adviser, began as he eyed Draco and Narcissa sympathetically.

Draco said nothing as he studied his family's longtime solicitor. The hairline of his sleeked back dark hair seemed to have receded even further since the last time he saw him. The buttons of his white shirt strained with every movement he made. His black suit was taught over his arms, a portion of the fabric bunching up slightly on his shoulders, clearly a size smaller.

"Needless to say, it would be unlawful to do so based solely on the sentence passed on Lucius. That would go against all of your basic rights." Levinson paused for a moment to emphasize his next point. "However, control in the Ministry has shifted. Majority of the authority and power belong to those who fought against you during the war."

He handed Narcissa a thin ledger outlining the profiles of all the current Ministry heads, along with their constituents. "Half-bloods, muggle-borns, and even magical creatures now hold positions in majority of the committees. Your past influence can no longer be utilized. And if I may be so frank, I would even go as far as saying it's a liability."

Narcissa said nothing as she perused the thin black leather book in her hands, silently sizing up potential adversaries.

Draco's jaw clenched to reel in a sarcastic response.

Levinson smoothed out a particularly long piece of parchment on the coffee table. "Do you recognize any of these?"

Mother and son scanned the long list of names in silence.

"Some." Narcissa responded with half lidded eyes, her demeanor cold but graceful. "What is this list for?"

"All of those names are part of the Ministry's newly formed organization." Levinson paused to take a sip of his now stale tea, coughing at the unpleasant way the lukewarm liquid trailed down his throat. "I'm sure you don't need me to explain any further?"

"The Order of the Phoenix." Narcissa concluded.

"Built to honor the memory of the legendary Dumbledore." Levinson added as he nodded in affirmation. "A separate department that aims to dissolve discrimination, not only among wizards and witches, but across all forms of magical creatures as well."

"Why now?"

All eyes were on the Malfoy heir, who until then, had chosen to stay silent.

"Why form this organization now? Two years after the war is over?"

Levinson sighed once again as he folded his arms over his rounded belly. "Your guess is as good as mine. But the propaganda they're pushing is to ensure that no such living creature will ever undergo any form of discrimination, or unjust treatment whatsoever. The ministry claims they've been organizing this for almost a year, but only now took precedence because war damages had to be prioritized."

Draco folded his arms across his chest. "So where do we stand in all of this?"

"Unfortunately, I have it on good authority that your family is in the top list of those 'under probation' by The Order."

Narcissa slowly placed the ledger beside the lone parchment stretched out on the coffee table. She smoothed her hands through both sides of her head, fingers touching the tight low bun on the nape of her neck. Without a word, she made her way over to the window, letting her eyes sweep over the vast land of the Malfoy lineage as the sun began to set.

Levinson's gaze landed on the plush chair he had been so used to seeing Lucius on whenever he would be called into his study for business. It's been a year and a half since he'd been sentence to life in Azkaban.

"Why your family? Why not go after other purebloods who also served under the Dark Lord?" Levinson voiced out their unspoken query, taking their silence as a signal to continue.

"The union of the Black-Malfoy families, both members of the sacred twenty-eight, is the epitome of a pureblood family." He paused to glance at the Malfoy heir pointedly. "Your ancestry is the oldest, richest and most influential; arguably the most famous as well. Wealth begets influence which begets popularity, and the cycle begins all over again. If I were to take an educated guess, I would say that The Order plans to purge the old dogma of pureblood superiority by making a public spectacle of how they could break, or rather tame the Malfoys."

Levinson watched Draco's knuckles turn deathly pale, nearly purplish, at how hard he was clutching his goblet of firewhiskey. He sighed. The poor boy was drinking himself to waste and the sun hadn't even set.

Narcissa turned around, her expression flat as she folded her hands across her chest. The movement made the fabric of her velvet green dress swirl across her shins. "I don't understand Zack. My son and I have served both our sentences. We've paid off all the war reparations demanded from us. My husband is serving a lifetime in Azkaban as we speak. What more do they want?"

"Again, your guess is as good as mine." He echoed, giving the Malfoy matriarch a weary glance.

"I know it'll be hard. No. It'll be very hard from now own. Especially with all the support The Order gets from the Wizarding world. But…" Levinson paused, seemingly unsure. "I think there may be a way."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, her initial unfeeling demeanor morphed into a mix of interest and hope. She nodded for him to continue.

Draco narrowed his eyes skeptically at the uncertainty he could sense off of Levinson.

"The Order sees your family as a threat, so it would be natural that most, if not all, eyes would be on you. So I began to think…" Levinson stood up, pacing the room as he clutched one hand on the top of his balding head. "Why not find an ally who could convince the Order that your family's stance is no longer what they assume it to be?"

Narcissa said nothing, but if the way her eyebrows furrowed was any indication, one could tell she was just as confused as she was intrigued.

"What I'm referring to, is a public display of your family's support for The Order." Levinson answered.

"Do you hear yourself?" Draco scoffed in disbelief. He was done holding his tongue. "Do you honestly think people would believe that the Malfoys agree with the stance of The Order?" He paused to glance at his mother, who avoided his gaze. "That we would march out and lobby for the equality of all magical creatures? Attend meetings and protests about how house elves should be set free? How sea monsters and flobberworms should be seen as creatures with rights?"

He paused to catch his breath, releasing a huff of indignation that filled the silence in the room.

"It's dim-witted, and you know it." He shook his head as he downed the rest of his drink, numb to the fire that trickled down his throat. "And even if we did support it, no one, and I mean no one, would ever believe it." He finished with a tone of finality.

"I know." Came Levinson's deadpan response.

Draco's anger spiked up tenfold. "Then why the hell are you suggesting it?!"

"I know I said that your family should show a public support for The Order, but not in the way you thought it would be." Levinson paused, mirth evident in his eyes as he tried to restrain his laughter. "I'm offended that you would think I would advise something that second rate."

Draco gritted his teeth as he bit down a reply full of expletives.

"What I am referring to is a more indirect, slightly inconspicuous, but greatly effective way of showing to the public that yes, the Malfoys are in favor of The Order's movement." Levinson grinned, straightening up his spine in a gesture of confidence.

Narcissa moved back to sit on the couch she had earlier shared with her son. "Get to the point Zack."

With a nod, Levinson turned his gaze towards Draco, raising his hand to the level of his eye. "Do you know what this is boy?" Happiness seem to radiate around him as he showed off his ring.

Draco narrowed his eyes and responded flatly. "A wedding ring."

"Correct." He nodded as he gave the Malfoy heir a meaningful look.

"Marriage?" Draco's face had a tired look that said he's had this conversation so many times he's already lost count. He ran a hand through his hair, not being able to bite back the sarcasm. "What? You want me to find another influential pureblood family? Join forces with them? Create an equally merry bunch to oppose The Order?"

"No. No. No. Haven't you listened to a word I said?"

Draco wanted to roll his eyes, annoyed that his family's solicitor missed the obvious jab.

"You have to show that you support the Order in a subtle way." Levinson paused for emphasis. "Marriage is correct. But marriage to a pureblood, is not."

Draco's initial indifference shifted to a look of silent shock and disbelief. "You want me to marry a-" He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

Levinson donned a goofy smile as he nodded in affirmation. "Marriage with a muggle-born witch!"

Levison felt the temperature in the room drop as he watched two identical sets of gray eyes shift. Mother and son remained silent and unmoving, their faces an impassive mask. Levinson sighed. He could almost hear their Occlumency at work.

It was Draco who finally cut through the silence. "Elaborate."

Clearing his throat, Levinson shifted his gaze to the current head of the Malfoy family. Narcissa sat still, her expression remained just as stone-faced as her son.

"Like I said, we need a subtle, clever gesture that inconspicuously equates to support. And I'm convinced that marriage to a muggle-born would have to be the best choice." Levinson began, outlining the details of his plan further. "Joining The Order, participating in their gatherings, or even publicly pledging allegiance would result to even more suspicion."

He stood up and began to pace the room once more, the nervous energy was back with a vengeance. He could feel the nerves in his spine tingling. "But remaining in status quo isn't an option either. Indifference will give The Order the opportunity to incriminate you further."

Levinson paused from his pacing to glance first at the Malfoy family matriarch, then to its heir. "The war may have ended two years ago, but there is still so much displaced hatred and revenge. Those people in The Order? Most of them have experienced discrimination and persecution in one way or another. Not all their intentions are for the greater good. So if they choose to persecute you, it will be a difficult battle."

"Well bloody fucking great." Draco replied monotonously. "They might as well just lock us up in Azkaban."

"Draco. Language." Narcissa threw a pointed gaze at her son for his lack of poise, before turning her attention back to Levinson. "So the decision you deem best for us, is to have my son marry a muggle-born?"

"Yes." Levinson nodded. "It is the best decision you can take in order to appease The Order."

Draco let out a long, irritated sigh. "Explain to me how that differs from my earlier examples of ass kissing."

Narcissa threw him another look of admonishment for his use of such a crass term.

"I thought you would never ask!" Levinson grinned widely, pulling out a large black envelope from his satchel before settling it to his side. "Marrying just any insignificant muggle-born witch would be pointless."

Draco slouched back on the leather couch uncaring, letting his eyes dart from the envelope to the ceiling. "And that is?"

"A possible key to the resolution of your problems with the Order." Levinson pushed the hidden file towards Draco, watching it slide across the table seamlessly. "I've done some research about all possible muggle-born females you can wed." He paused; uncertainty crossing his features. "You are into females, right?"

Narcissa's felt her lips part slightly at the comment. Glancing over to her son, she watched as he waved a hand off in nonchalance.

"Women. Men. Werewolves. Giants. Sea creatures. Veela. Heck, let's throw in house elves into the mix as well!" Draco wagged his brows at the solicitor. "Let's throw them all in!"

"Draco, you're not helping." Narcissa closed her eyes and let out a breath. "A female is fine."

"I see! Then we have no problem. No problem at all!" Levinson chirped happily as if he'd just asked a simple question about the weather.

"There you have the profile of the most ideal conquest for you." He paused, pointing a stubby finger towards the black envelope sitting just within Draco's reach. "Not only will associating with this muggle-born ease The Order's doubt, it will also add a different kind of honor to your already prestigious family history."

Hearing this, Draco straightened his posture, curiosity getting the better of him. Who the hell was this muggle-born female that a Malfoy would actually be honored to wed?

Levinson raised his eyebrows, both palms up, gesturing the Malfoy heir to open it.

Narcissa spared one look at her son, before straining her neck to get a glimpse of the envelope's contents. She watched as he barely took a peek before pushing the scraps of paper back in, placing the file down quickly onto the coffee table.

Levinson waited apprehensively for a reaction. He expected the Malfoy heir to shout, tear the envelope into bits, curse at him, and then throw him out of the house. Surprisingly, he did no such thing.

Trying hard to swallow his anger and murderous intent, Draco raised his head to glare death at Levinson. He wished, for once, that looks could kill. "Are you fucking serious?"

Narcissa pulled out the file, raising an eyebrow in interest and amusement. "Ms. Granger?" Suddenly, a flashback of shrieks coming from the drawing room echoed in her head, draining all color from her face. She may not have been there when it happened, but she heard every moment of it.

Clearing his throat, Levinson directed his attention back to the grown man who looked livid enough to throw an unforgivable at him. "I'm well aware of your, ah, history with Ms. Granger."

"If you've indeed done your research, then you'd know that I'd sooner shack up with a hippogriff than marry that bloody bucktooth beaver! And I can assure you, the feeling would be mutual."

Levinson couldn't help but laugh at the Malfoy heir's choice of words. He was well aware that he and the female member of the Golden Trio weren't in good terms; but what he hadn't known was the fact that Draco's disdain for the woman ran both so deep, and so shallow at the same time. "You know what they say. There's a very thin line between love and hate."

"Sod off!" Draco face contorted into a look of pure disgust.

"Think about it." Levinson began as he held out his fingers. "Miss Granger is part of the Golden Trio. A member of the original Order of the Phoenix. The smartest witch Hogwarts has ever known-"

"An obvious exaggeration." Draco counteracted through gritted teeth. He didn't need yet another reminder of how a muggle-born girl beat him at almost every single damn class.

"Ms. Granger is also currently one of the best healers at St. Mungo's. I wouldn't be surprised if she would be promoted to one of the head healers in the next two or three years."

Draco clenched his jaw as tightly as he could to reel in his temper. He tried his best to ignore it, but every single time Levinson mentioned her name, bouts of blood curdling screams resounded in his ear. He shook his head as subtly as he could, wishing the gesture could rid himself of the memory.

Levinson leaned towards Draco as he looked him in the eye. "Face it. She's as good a choice as it gets. I did my research. No other muggle-born can surpass what she's done, and what she probably will achieve."

"You sound quite convinced she's perfect." Draco replied flatly, as he pretended to pick out an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder.

Levinson blinked at the glassy gray eyes that now started at him. Occlumency, once again it seems. He wondered how often the Malfoy heir subjected himself to the act. "I am. Yes." He nodded as he leaned back on his chair, the soft cushion relaxing him. "She's the best choice."

"Alright. Then let me tell you something." Draco nodded once, placing his drink softly on the table, before fixing his gaze onto the imbecile before him. "Something not even your foolhardy research can tell you."

Standing up, Draco raised a finger towards a specific direction. Narcissa knew exactly where his argument was leading.

"Two years ago. There. In the west wing drawing room." He paused, as if he was seeing it happen all over again. "She lay bleeding, screaming, nearly dying, as my Aunt Bella tortured her with glee."

Narcissa watched Levinson's jaw drop; his eyes glued on the menacing look her son threw at him.

"So how do you suppose the courtship would begin? Hm?" Draco had his arms folded on his chest, speaking to their solicitor as if he were a child. "Hey Granger! Remember me? Long time, huh? Last time we saw each other was on trial. Mine first, then my parents', am I right?"

"Draco." Came Narcissa's exasperated tone. Of all the qualities he could have gotten from Lucius, why did he have to inherit his biting sarcasm?

Ignoring his mother's warning tone, he continued. "So how's it been? Me? Oh I've just been on house arrest for the past year with magical restraints and all. Now I'm left with just another year on parole. My mother just got back a couple of months ago after a year in Azkaban. Say, how about we catch up over tea and biscuits at the manor? You'll love what we've done with the place, specially the west wing drawing-"

"Draco!"

Narcissa rarely ever shouted. So when she did, Draco knew when to stop.

Picking up his initially discarded goblet of firewhiskey, Draco smirked at the now silent, uncomfortable figure of Zachary Levinson. The obese lawyer couldn't meet him in the eye. "Just proving a point mother."

"Something you could have done in more ways than one." Standing up to head to the door, Narcissa held it open before glancing at her son in reproach. "You may leave."

Draco blinked, taken aback by the seemingly extreme response from his mother. "But we're not done."

Narcissa said nothing more; blue eyes boring into defiant gray ones staring back at her unfazed.

With a resigned sigh, Draco stomped out of his father's study.

"My apologies." Narcissa moved back to the couch, eyeing the still silent man before her. "My son has a rather… strange sense of humor."

"It's my fault for not knowing." Levinson replied in a quiet voice.

Narcissa shook her head. "The details of the trial were not made public. Only those present during it know of Ms. Granger's statements. And of course, those who were there in the drawing room to witness it."

"Was Draco…?"

Narcissa nodded. "He was there. Next to my husband and my sister."

Levinson sighed, releasing a breath of resignation.

"For what it's worth…" Narcissa began; a small smile on her face. "All things considered, it was a good plan."

Levinson blinked in surprise, his eyebrows rising all the way up through the expanse of forehead. Now that was something he certainly didn't expect. He wanted her to clarify what she meant, but the telling look in her eyes told him to hold his tongue. He sighed once again, deciding to let it go.

"There's one more thing." Digging through the files in his satchel, he gave the Malfoy matriarch an apologetic glance. "As the head of your legal affairs, I was summoned this morning to present this to you."

The sight of the pristine golden envelope filled her with dread.


Draco let out an irritated sigh when he heard incessant knocking on his door. It was half past midnight, and he was already in his pajamas. He just wanted to be left in peace. Muttering colorful profanities under his breath as he stomped to the door, he hauled it open in annoyance.

"Draco."

Coughing to hide his irritability, he dragged a weary hand over his face. "Mother."

"There's something you need to see."

Eyeing the familiar black envelope in his mother's grasp, Draco gritted his teeth. "If this is about that ridiculous-"

"No." Narcissa cut him off, as she turned the black envelope to its side, revealing the golden one tucked beneath it. "It's not."

Draco blinked; his eyes glued on the golden envelope sporting an all too familiar wax seal. "The Ministry?"

Narcissa remained quiet as she handed both envelopes to her son. She said nothing more as she turned away to leave.

Confused and anxious, Draco closed the door to his room before heading swiftly over to the couch across his fireplace. Chucking Granger's file onto the desk in front of him, he clawed out the folded parchment, not bothering to handle it with care as he straightened it out.

This is to inform you that in a week's time, The Ministry's Order of the Phoenix will be taking hold of the Malfoy manor for investigative purposes in relation to He-who-must-not-be-named. In the interest of public security, it is our duty to eliminate possible threats that could be brought about by leniency in judgment.

In line with this, a minimum of 90 days probation will be put on the Malfoy manor, an infrastructure known to have served as the Dark Lord's nest for unknown number of years. We understand that it has been swept for dark artifacts and other potentially dangerous magical items weeks after the Dark Lord's passing. However, we request for your understanding as we seek to employ a more thorough examination for the wellbeing of your manor's inhabitants, and potentially, the safety of the entire wizarding community.

The Malfoy manor will be handled with utmost care and consideration. Any damages acquired during the probationary period will be reimbursed. The Ministry will be providing a temporary settlement, shouldering all living expenses throughout the course of this investigation. More details regarding this matter will be provided in two days' time.

We apologize for the inconvenience and we appreciate your cooperation.

Draco gaped at the letter in utter disbelief. It was beginning, just as Levinson predicted.

"Bloody bastards!" Grabbing the half empty glass of firewhiskey on the table, he hurled it angrily at the flames. The rage in his eyes reflected the fury of the fire.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, he began pacing the room like a madman. Was their penance ever going to end? Was his father's life sentence not enough? Was his mother's stint in Azkaban and his year of house arrest too light of a reprimand?

There was no way he would let things end like this! Who did the Ministry think they were?

His eyes landed on the large black envelope strewn carelessly on his wooded oak table. He stood still. The way the light of the flames dance around it taunted him in a way that was both eerie and entrancing. He swallowed. Would he dare?

Pulling it towards him as he sank onto the couch, he cursed out loud. Just the fact that he was even allowing himself to deliberate this made him realize just how royally fucked he was.