There's a little ball of anxiety sitting deep in my gut. I haven't been to any events this nice in ages. Even the dozen or so Ministry-sponsored balls per year haven't prepared me for a ball hosted by Narcissa Black. I know she's my friend, but really, what was I thinking - agreeing so easily? I'm not high class, pureblooded, rich.
Oh, come off it Granger. I take a deep breath and try to center myself. Breathe. Feel. I reach out for the coin, feel my magic curl comfortingly around it. It's been two weeks since I last saw Narcissa, and my proficiency in wandless magic has improved dramatically. I submitted my proposal for new workshops a few days ago - a series of classes on the merfolk and their culture that I think should help to bridge the gap between our people. That, alongside not being allowed to continue my research into Bellatrix, means I haven't had much to do other than practice. It certainly doesn't help that work tends to run slow around this time of year - either it's too cold for people to easily infringe on magical creatures' territories, or the holidays take up too much of everyone's time.
Either way, it means that I've gotten faster and more proficient at controlling my magic without a wand. In fact, I often find myself not in need of a wand at all. I don't think I could fight without one, and some of the spells I don't use very often are a little sketchy (I accidentally cut my desk when trying to Diffindo a piece of parchment.), but I'm confident enough to leave my wand behind for the ball tonight.
The ball which I am stalling going to by practicing wandless magic. Just one last look in the mirror won't waste too much time, right? I'm going to arrive on time, anyway.
No. I'm going now. I walk over to the small silver emblem of a pine branch - the portkey Narcissa owled, presumably to everyone who RSVPed - and touch it to be whisked away to Nice.
Portkey travel is never pleasant, but the landing for this trip is surprisingly soft. I manage to keep the stumbling to a minimum, at any rate. I look up to see I've arrived in a small fenced-in area, just inside the property of what I assume is the vineyard.
A quick glance around confirms it. Narcissa has timed this such that the starting time is in the late afternoon - when the setting sun casts a warm golden glow across the rows of grape plants on the other side of the wrought iron fence, and the sky is painted in hues of orange and red and purple. I hadn't considered it, but magic must allow them to grow year-round, as the plants are still green and healthy despite the cold. It's gorgeous, just looking out across the seemingly endless rows of plants. I can see why she chose this location.
"Why am I not surprised that you are the first to arrive?" Narcissa's voice comes from behind me, sounding amused. I turn to greet her, only to pause for a moment. I've seen Narcissa in her day-to-day robes, which are of incredible quality and style on their own, but I've never seen her try to look her best. She is, literally, stunning.
Her hair is tied up in a loose bun, held together by a long, thin silver pin. It's clearly the kind of accessory designed to be used as a weapon if needed, something I imagine Narcissa has owned for quite some time. Her dress, though, is deadly in its own right. It sits on just one shoulder, clinging almost skintight as it falls down to mid-thigh, where it opens in a slit on her left leg and falls in a loose skirt to her ankles. The fabric is predominantly black, but with a shimmer to it that catches the reds and purples of the sunset - something I'm quite sure she planned.
After a moment, I realize I'm staring and pull myself back together. "Cissa, you're… gorgeous." I step forward, but even I can tell my tone is… perhaps a bit too reverent. Analyze that later, Granger. If she notices, Narcissa doesn't react. Instead, she extends her hand to me in a gesture I recognize. I grasp her hand and gently press my lips to her knuckles. "Thank you for having me, Madame Black."
"It is an honor to have such an esteemed guest attend, Mademoiselle Granger." The formality in her voice is strange to hear after so long spent together casually. The sounds of others arriving behind me prevents us from talking for any length of time, and I reluctantly move away from Narcissa into the main area where the ball is to be held. It is enormous - a huge veranda with a view out over the fields of grapes glowing in the setting sun. Despite the open air design, the veranda itself is comfortably warm and without the slight breeze I felt outside. The air is filled with soft music, likely enchanted.
I take a moment to appreciate the view once more, only to be joined by someone almost as soon as I stop to look. "Mademoiselle Granger." I turn and see Draco standing there, a hand at Astoria's waist next to him. They look ridiculously stiff and formal, something I have little skill in.
I offer a smile and a small curtsy. "Monsieur Malfoy, Madame Malfoy."
The moment hangs awkwardly silent for a moment before Draco cracks a surprisingly genuine smile and steps forward. "Thank you, Hermione. Mother is… honestly, I haven't seen her so full of life since the war. Whatever you've done, I can't thank you enough." For a moment, I think he's going to try and hug me - something I'm definitely not ready for - but then I remember we're at a Black Family ball and hugging is certainly not formal enough. Instead, he seems expectant of something. It takes an embarrassing moment for me to remember some of the etiquette I've tried to learn over the years - I'm supposed to reach for him first. I let him kiss my knuckles, something I'd have never imagined at Hogwarts, then watch him step backwards to Astoria.
We exchange pleasantries for a moment, but the conversation is clearly stilted. Briefly, I have the thought that I'm more comfortable around Narcissa than her son, but then I see more guests arriving behind Draco, many of which I recognize, and the thought is gone in the whirlwind of matching faces to names. The crowd begins to file in past Narcissa, each greeting her in turn. I see Ginny and Harry, Arthur and Molly, even Neville and Hannah before I stop recognizing people. I'm pretty sure I see Pansy Parkinson, but the face that surprises me most is one I've seen in the papers quite often - Anathema Zabini. Then, many of the strangers come into a different focus. These are likely the people that Narcissa associated with before the war - the families of Death Eaters, less prominent Voldemort supporters, and various blood purists.
Admittedly, I have a moment of shaken faith in Narcissa. How reformed is she that she would invite people like this? Then, it occurs to me that this ball is more than just a celebration of Yule. It is Narcissa making a statement. She may be something of an outcast, but she still has the influence to bring these people here, and she will not stand down from her new views. They can accept it, or they can be known as those who snubbed an invitation from a Black - a Black that has the support of the heroes of the war. I'm no stranger to the games that need to be played to win the social war, and this is one hell of a power move.
"Hermione, thank Merlin." Ginny almost stumbles in her rush to move over to where Draco, Astoria, and I are standing. She glances at Draco, then meaningfully looks at the crowd before turning her worried gaze back to me. Are you sure about this? I nod slightly, and she relaxes visibly before turning to Draco and Astoria. "It's nice to see you two." I can see Draco turn on the charm as he turns to greet Ginny, then excuses himself to make his rounds as the hostess's son.
Later, I spot Draco slowly weaving his way towards me through the crowd and I know it's time - I wasn't going to get out of this without dancing at least once, I know, but I was hoping. "Care for a dance?"
"You know I don't, but at least you won't step on my toes." I take the hand he has extended and let him pull me to the dance floor.
"Considering how often we're each other's mandatory one dance at work, I was expecting you to seek me out." He starts to lead the one dance we've perfected over the years, continuing, "Though part of me was wondering if you'd seek out my mother instead."
"Required or not, I don't like dancing. If you ever see me willfully seeking one out, please assume it is a body double." Moments like this, where I can focus on the dance and not think about… everything else that lead up to this, Draco and I get along perfectly. I could even see us being friends, eventually, now that he's likely to be in my life more often.
He chuckles, "Will do."
We sit in relatively comfortable silence - mostly because I need to focus on where my feet go - for the first half of the song. I can tell that people are watching us, can feel their eyes on us. It's not surprising, really. Even at Ministry balls, we often garner looks of confusion when we're seen together. Here, where most of the people are likely assuming we hate each other? I'm surprised we're only being stared at.
Once I get the rhythm back down, I can look around and see who is judging us. I see Pansy - no surprise there - looking at us with almost undisguised disgust, muttering to someone standing next to her. There are others looking, though none with such obvious vitriol. "I'm shocked that we're garnering this much attention."
"I'm not. Half of them still think Mother and I are supporters. Granted," here, he flexes his left hand in a gesture I recognize - discomfort, "I can understand why. But it is rather disconcerting that, even ten years and multiple public statements down the line, they can't seem to disconnect us from him." We've had similar conversations in the past, though rarely so direct. Typically the only time we speak at length is when we're dancing, though, so perhaps that will change in the future.
"None of us think you are who you once were." I look out around us, purposefully meet the gazes of everyone who is staring. "These bigots will get the picture eventually. Just keep pushing."
One of the sets of eyes I meet is different from the others. Clear, shining blue, looking on, not with distaste, but with an intensity that I can feel, that makes my rhythm falter. Narcissa.
It's several hours later, when the sunset has turned into evening and I have spoken to dozens of people I never thought I'd speak to again, when the first person from 'the other side' approaches me. I'm standing, slowly nursing a glass of wine from the vineyard that probably costs more than my rent, staring out over the fields, when I feel a presence next to me. Or, more accurately, I feel the presence of strong magic wash against my own, icy cold and blunt. I wasn't even trying to feel magic, so the only explanation I can think of is that it was purposefully done for some reason. Ask Cissa about that later. I turn towards the source to see Pansy Parkinson. Of course. "Granger," she says with an incredibly shallow bow, "it is a pleasure to see you again." The way she says 'pleasure' makes it sound like a slur - hateful and cruel.
I refuse to rise to her bait, instead pushing back against her magic to stop it stifling me while still recognizing her challenge silently. "Miss Parkinson, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
If she's surprised by my fighting back, she doesn't show it. "I simply wanted to meet the… company… that Narcissa keeps these days." She looks me up and down, her expression shifting into the hint of a sneer. "I must say," and her mouth curls into a positively deadly smile, "I'm not impressed." The pressure leaves me, though I imagine it's because I fought back more than anything.
"Imagine my surprise." I glance around, then turn back to her. "Is there any particular reason you came over here to annoy me? Just for old times' sake?"
"No, no, Granger." Pansy raises her voice a bit - enough that everyone nearby could feasibly hear her. "Would you join me for a dance, Hermione?" That deadly smile only deepens as she extends a hand to me and adds in a quieter voice, "I'll lead."
"My apologies, but my dance card is completely full for the evening. I simply haven't the time." I turn away, expecting that to be the end of things - I shut her down, she'll get bored and move on.
Instead, Pansy walks closer. "Come now, Granger. Surely you know not to turn down dances from powerful people? I mean, at a ball like this? The connections you could make… if you were anyone of worth, that is." Her voice drops into a shallower hiss with each word, and as she reaches me she not-so-gently grips my left elbow.
I can't stop myself from flinching and pushing her away - the visceral fear of being grabbed is too powerful, especially on that arm. "Go away, Parkinson. You won't find your dance partner here."
"Aw, is the mu-"
"Miss Parkinson." Narcissa's voice is sharp, and cuts through the noise of the music and crowd like a knife. "Leave. I will not tolerate such behavior." Pansy puffs up, and I regret not bringing my wand for a moment before she disappears on the spot - Disapparated. Narcissa turns to face the now-quiet crowd. She doesn't even need to cast a Sonorous charm, the quiet is so hollow. "Let this serve as a warning. Black family events are neutral territory. Insults or arguments will see you removed from the event. Drawing your wand will see you barred from all future events." Then, with a wave of her hand, the music starts back up - when had it stopped? - and she turns to me like she expects the crowd to return to what they'd been doing before.
Something stirs in my chest looking at her - pride, I think, for publicly taking a stand against blood purism. Her face is calm, but I can read her well enough that I see the way her eyes twitch in frustration and the slight tensing of her hands. "I apologize deeply, Mademoiselle Granger, that you faced such horrid treatment in my care."
She hadn't even gotten far enough through the word to trigger my scar, but this is likely hosting etiquette and not Narcissa herself. The idea is foreign - that one becomes an 'other' during formal events - and uncomfortable. I'm not sure what the appropriate response is, so I say, "It was nothing. Thank you for assisting me." It seems I've done at least an adequate job, as Narcissa nods slightly and holds my gaze for a moment longer before turning away, going back to hosting. I turn and look back over the fields, letting the sparkling stars take my mind away from the past few minutes.
"Mademoiselle Granger, would you accompany me for a dance?" I'm only half-surprised that Narcissa is the one to break my reverie.
I hesitate. I'm really not one for dancing, and I've gotten my one in for the evening, but… I can't help but recall the intensity of her gaze earlier. Something in it makes me say, "Of course." I let Narcissa take my hand and lead me to the floor. "Though I must warn you, I'm not much of a dancer. A basic waltz is about all I can manage."
"That will more than suffice. Should I lead?"
"If you wouldn't mind." The sentence is barely out of my mouth before we're away, spinning with the crowd. There's something in the way she leads that makes it easy to follow, even without verbal instruction - something I tend to need with new dance partners.
"Not much of a dancer? It seems to me like you can more than handle yourself." There's the barest hint of a joking challenge in her voice, as though she's well aware of the reality of my (lack of) dancing skills.
"This is all you, Cissa. I must have scuffed dozens of pairs of shoes at Ministry events." I manage a slightly self-deprecating chuckle, "Not for lack of coordination, just lack of practice."
"Letting someone grab you cannot be easy." If it was anyone but Cissa, I'd be surprised that they cut to the heart of the issue so cleanly. I swallow and start to answer, but she continues, "If we need to stop for any reason, please tell me."
The unwavering sincerity in her voice bolsters me, and I shake my head 'no'. The rest of the song passes uneventfully, but I find myself actually enjoying the dance instead of counting down to its end. I even catch myself wanting to ask for another, but knowing she has hosting duties, I let her go with my gratitude.
I make my way to the railing once more, wanting to turn back to the scenery. After all, there will be other balls in the future, and I am quite sure I know who my go-to partner will be from now on.
Eventually I'm joined by someone - Ginny. "Heya, 'Mione. I, uh, had a chat with Cissa." I glance at Ginny, concerned by her use of the nickname. I'm met with a half-cocky, half-apologetic smile. "She's nicer than I thought she'd be. And she, uh… she apologized, even though she didn't have anything to do with it." I gesture for her to continue, still confused about the familiarity. "Well, we talked while she was watching you talk to Parkinson, making sure nothing got too out of hand."
After nearly a minute of silence, I prompt Ginny, "So how did that go?"
"Oh, we reached some common ground. Made some interesting discoveries about each other and talked a bit about our interests. Did you know she wanted to be a Seeker at Hogwarts?" No, I didn't know that, but it's fascinating. "I hugged her after and she froze."
"Are you… friends now?" I didn't actually mean it when I said I thought they'd get along.
"Close as can be. Two peas in a pod." Ginny smiles and laughs a bit. "I'm kidding. We've agreed to be amicable to each other, and she's not as terrible as I thought she'd be. Actually rather pleasant. Wasn't joking about the hug, though. That was an emotional conversation."
"So wait, she didn't want to be a Seeker? You made that up?"
"That's what you focus on?" She laughs and sighs, probably too loudly for the setting. "Look, I invited her to the New Year's celebration. She declined, but I still invited her. Amicable. Friendly." A shrug. "I'm still sorry for freaking out."
"I… it's okay, Ginny. Thank you for giving her a chance." Now to convince everyone else that she's palatable. Then, eventually, that she's great. It's only after Ginny has left me, gone looking for Harry, that I realize she didn't answer my question.
"Oh, Hermione, you're still here." The formality has dropped from Narcissa's voice entirely, back to the comfortable lilt I'm used to. "I didn't expect you to stay much longer after… that."
"Nonsense. I wanted to talk with you." Not with your hostess persona. "And besides, she didn't even hurt me." I wave my hand in dismissal of the issue. "Everything was wonderful from my perspective. How did things go on your end?"
"Apart from that… interruption, all went according to plan." She slowly paces forward, until we're both standing next to the railing overlooking the fields. "Since you're still here, would you like to stay for a nightcap? As an apology," she continues with a grin, "for being predisposed for the entire evening."
I try to think back on how many glasses of wine I had over the evening - I'm not much for alcohol, so I have to pace myself. "I should be safe for one or two."
"If not, there's more than enough space for you to stay here for the night." She summons a bottle as she speaks, uncorks it with a wave of her hand, and pours two glasses for us. "We should retreat to the interior, I'm afraid. The elves are here for another… two hours, I believe, and we will only be in the way of their efforts."
"You have more elves than just Pimkey?" I've only ever seen Pimkey around Narcissa, so I'd just assumed…
"For tonight. Even Pimkey would have struggled with an event this large on their own. Since the last round of laws were introduced, some elves have banded together as temporary hires for events like these. I simply hired a team to handle the food and drink." I see. Elf culture has evolved significantly since the last time I instituted changes. Perhaps I should look into that again, when I get a chance.
"I had no idea." Narcissa leads us away from the railing, levitating the bottle and her glass behind her as we walk into the estate. "How is Pimkey, by the way? It's been a while since I spoke to them."
"They're positively delighted this evening. Always looking for ways to impress. In fact, I imagine they're with the others, leading the show." The image of Pimkey showing off to all the other elves is amusing enough to draw laughter from us both.
As we walk, Narcissa reaches up and pulls the pin from her hair, letting it fall in loose waves as she runs her fingers through it. "I wanted to offer my thanks for your warning about Ginevra," she says once her hair is settled as she likes it. "I was able to instigate the conversation myself, instead. I had an idea what she might wish to speak about."
"How did that go, if you don't mind my asking?"
"I believe we have reached some kind of agreement. I doubt she will ever trust me fully, which is understandable on her part."
"I think they'll warm up to you." She turns to give me an incredulous look, so I continue, "No, really. If they can put up with Percy, they'll love you."
Narcissa just hums in response and turns down a hallway before stopping at a door. "I hope you don't mind, but my suite seemed appropriate."
"Not at all." I gesture for her to continue, and she pushes open the door to a strangely familiar setting. It looks almost exactly like her suite at Malfoy Manor, with only a few minor changes. As we enter, I feel the same disconnect from my magic as I did when I helped her. I make my way to the couch in front of the low-burning fireplace as I ask, "Cissa, I've been meaning to ask, the magic in this room - does it work like that chamber back at Malfoy Manor?"
"It does, yes, though I admit the reasoning is slightly different." She disappears further into the suite, and I hear the sounds of shifting fabric as she continues to speak - she must be changing. "If you are cut off from magic, it becomes easier to recognize magical sensations. This also means that, if you're familiar with someone, you should be able to recognize their magic as they come near to you."
"So… this is some kind of self defense choice? Notice people coming before they get to you?" It would only work inside the room, but a few seconds warning can mean a lot in duels.
"Not quite. Originally, it was a way to verify the identity of both spouses during consummation. In our home, it also served as a way to escape the presence of the Dark Lord. In the suites, the darkness of his magic was not so pervasive."
"That does make sense." I hear Narcissa returning to the room, and look to see her sitting beside me - now in a much less restrictive nightgown. Remembering how Pansy's magic felt against my own, I ask, "If someone purposely… pushes their magic onto me, what purpose would that serve?"
"A cheap intimidation tactic. In theory, if you aren't aware of your magic, it could make you feel pressured without really knowing why." She shrugs one shoulder, then levitates her glass of wine to her hand. "It's nothing that can't be overcome, even by those unskilled. No more effective than a well-placed glare, but some think it is a showing of the strength of your magic. If anything, it paints you as… a petty bully."
"I… see. That does make sense." I can even recall a few times at events and hearings where people tried to use this against me. "We should write a book on wandless magic." The thought escapes me before I've even thought it through fully, but it's something I would've suggested regardless.
"We? You and I?"
"Yes, actually. If you'd be willing." I conjure a paper daffodil with a flourish of my hand, then slowly levitate it in front of Narcissa until she lets it land in her palm. "I've been practicing. In fact, I find my wand is more of an accessory than a necessity. I didn't even bring it tonight. Of course, this is an idea for the future, after we finish researching."
"I certainly wouldn't be opposed. However, speaking of researching, how are you?"
My instinct is to smile and wave it off, but I know this is serious. The idea of jeopardizing Cissa's project alone is enough for me to answer as truthfully as possible. "I'm doing better. The time away has helped, as has focusing on practicing wandless magic. I'm more confident in my abilities than I was previously, and time has softened the blow - so to speak."
"Would you like to resume after the first of the year, then?"
She's clearly leaving it up to me to decide my own limits. That's never been one of my strong points, but… "I think I should be able to manage that."
"Then, in the meantime, I believe I owe you a meal." She turns to face me more fully, legs tucked under herself and gazing over the rim of the wine glass. "Any requests?"
"I think I'll leave it up to your discretion. After all, I picked everything last time."
"Then a surprise it shall be." She says it like a joking threat, which pulls laughter from us both.
"I'm looking forward to it." I raise my glass in a mock toast, then take a draw of the dry red she's poured for us. Narcissa does the same, a bit behind me, and I can't help but follow the glass as she does, watch the way the wine stains her lips- Abruptly, I look away and hope she doesn't notice. Cissa is not your first attractive friend. Get it together. I take a deep breath, and let us lapse into our comfortable back-and-forth banter.
Before long, it's well past two in the morning. "I am sorry, Cissa, but I fear I won't make it home at all if I stay longer."
"No need to apologize, Hermione. If you'd like, the fireplace in the main entrance is connected to the Floo network." Narcissa stands and offers a hand to help me follow. "Though, now that I think about it, your flat lacks a fireplace entirely, does it not?"
"Unfortunately, yes, but I have an open invitation to Grimmauld. I'll Floo there, then Apparate home."
"If you believe you are safe to Apparate, I'll trust your judgement." She leads me further away from the veranda, deeper into the estate, until I'm effectively lost.
"Cissa, is Black Manor this large? If so, I fear I'll need a map."
That pulls a short laugh from her, though I wasn't quite joking. "It is larger, actually. Space enough for both paternal and maternal grandparents, parents, and up to a dozen children. Additionally, quarters for the elves - though those are separate from the main building." She pauses for a moment, then, "I can have a map ready by the time we begin dismantling the wards, if you'd like."
"I think it would be prudent." As much as I want to stay and continue talking, I see the entryway and fireplace come to view as we round the next corner.
Narcissa stops walking as we near the fireplace, and I turn to her. For the first time, I notice she is without her heels - shorter than I am by a good several centimetres. This knowledge is, somehow, fascinating to me. "Goodnight, Hermione. Thank you, not only for attending the ball, but for this time after."
"Of course, Cissa. Goodnight." It isn't until I'm laying in bed that I realize - I never asked if she really did want to be a Seeker at Hogwarts.