Does time slow down on Saturdays?

Draco pondered as he arrived at the Malfoy Manor at a quarter past eleven for his usual lunch with his mother, followed by the (highly expected by everyone else but him) Tea Party at four.

He walked out of the Manor's parlour where he had flooed into, going towards the French doors that led to the back garden, heading to the rose gardens – where he knew Narcissa liked to spend her mornings.

His mind had been in an obsessive loop since the previous night; one huge question begging to be answered: How possible (or impossible) is it that Jean and Granger are the same person?

From the moment Draco had first entertained that thought before bed to the second he opened his eyes that morning, he did nothing but think of all the things Jean had told him.

He knew she was in love with someone that she argued with constantly.

And Granger and I are constantly arguing.

Jean had insecurities regarding her curvy body.

And so does Granger.

The days Jean had argued with the man she loved coincided with days Granger and he had argued.

It was simply too easy to draw a parallel and conclude that Jean Lewis and Hermione Granger were the same person and that he, Draco Malfoy, was the man she loved.

However, there was one huge flaw in his conclusions, something that buried his hopes seven feet under and rubbed one universal truth on his face that forced him to see that all of those were nothing more than wishful thinking: Granger hated him.

Therefore, if She was Jean, that meant he had kissed and made love to the woman he loved and worshipped – but it also opened another can of worms: Jean/Granger was in love with someone else who argued with her just as much as he.

And according to Potter: Ronald Weasley was known for having spoken deprecatingly about her curves before, and they had been a couple in the past, so she had at once liked him enough to date him.

Fuck. Could she still love him?

"Good morning, my son!" Draco heard the sweet voice of his mother once he reached the beautiful rose garden she enjoyed caring for herself.

He couldn't help but smile as he looked at her relaxed and happy face. "Good morning, mum." He gave her a kiss on her cheek.

"You look tired, Draco." Narcissa waited no time to tell him.

"Yes." he nodded. "I didn't sleep much last night."

"Hm. You should rest before the party. You must look your best then."

He sighed in discontentment, "Do we really have to go through this every Saturday, mother?"

Narcissa shot him an 'I-know-better' glare, "Yes, Draco. You're my only son, and I wish to be a grandma before my eightieth birthday."

"You're 47, mother." he rolled his eyes. "You were 25 when you had me. I still have plenty of time."

"Not if you don't choose a woman to start courting! From courtship to marriage two years or more sometimes are needed, Draco! And getting pregnant may take years!"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes again, knowing she should have already learned that discussing that with Narcissa would never take him anywhere.

She turned her attentions back to the pruning of the rose bushes. "You stayed up til late with the muggle woman from the pub?"

He was taken aback for a moment, but soon shook his head, knowing he shouldn't be surprised she had had him followed.

"If you already know what I did last night, mum, why do you ask?"

Narcissa let out an aggravated breath. "It's my job to know where you go, Draco. You are my only son and the Head of this family." She stopped pruning and looked at him. "And I love you."

He no longer controlled the need to roll his eyes. "It's possible to love your kid and not have them followed, you know."

Narcissa chose to ignore his retort, changing the subject: "How are Theodore and Harry?"

He snorted, "So you've heard about that train wreck."

"Their relationship is not a train wreck, Draco! They're lovely together. Theo brought Harry here to visit last week. Hermione came with them." She added nonchalantly.

Draco nearly choked on his saliva. "What? Herm- Granger was here? In the Manor? Visiting? Why?" He was gobsmacked. "And since when do you call her Hermione?"

"Well, she's come by a few times already." She continued as she walked through her garden, stopping once in a while to smell her flowers. "Her therapist-"

"Therapist?" Draco exclaimed with a frown, following her.

"Yes, it's a muggle term for mind-healer." Narcissa explained with a wave of her hand.

"I know what a therapist is, mother!" he almost shouted. "I'm surprised that you do!"

"Well, as I was saying... Hermione's therapist told her she should confront her past traumas in order to heal from them. So, she reached out to me after the Ministry gala two years ago. She wanted to see the drawing room."

Draco muttered: "Fucking hell." and ran a hand through his hair, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were in France studying at the time, Draco; plus, it had nothing to do with you." Narcissa shrugged. "Hermione's coming here was about her healing. Anyway, she's been here many times since then and since last year she longer cries when she sets foot in the Manor. I'd dare say she feels comfortable here; she's even helping me make decisions regarding the remodelling of the drawing room. She's chosen the colour palette and the new armchair set."

Draco was looking at his mother as if she had just told him she was in fact part-kneazle and that he might start growing a tail before his twenty-third birthday. "Next thing you'll tell me, mum, is that you invited Granger for today's Tea Party."

"Actually," said Narcissa. "I'll let you know that I have invited her, more than once. But she always politely declines."

Draco held his breath, staring at her in shock, Holy shit! WHAT? Are you fucking kidding me?, he wanted to shout, but he knew better than to shout at his mother, so he just looked at her, trying to guess if she was joking or not.

"I understand your surprise." Narcissa added, as they entered the house. "But I absolutely adore her! Hermione is a brilliant witch, well-educated, with perfect manners. Having her as my daughter-in-law would be a blessing."

"And why on Earth would you think she'd be interested in that?" he managed to ask, barely able to hear his own thoughts over the thundering of his fast-paced heartbeat.

"She's not. Unfortunately. Apparently money and good-looks are not at all important to her." Narcissa sighed dejectedly. "Ironically that fact just makes her even more perfect."

Fuck if that isn't the truth. Draco groaned internally. She's absolutely perfect.

"She'd be a perfect Lady Malfoy." Narcissa went on as they walked to her favourite room: her study, which faced the rose gardens.

"I thought you'd find Granger too opinionated for that role." He said.

Narcissa gasped in delight, "Ooh, yes. She'd put you in your place daily and wouldn't that just be a joy to watch."

Draco frowned at that, "So it would bring you joy to watch me being shushed by my wife?"

She laughed, "Oh, Draco, love. You don't want a wife that bows to your every wish. That was what your father wanted."

He felt even more confused, "You've never bowed to every father's whim and yet he'd have kissed the ground under your feet had you asked, mum."

"Yes, he loved me til his last breath, son, but he once told me he thought he'd be happier if he could control me. So that was what he wished for you, which is why he was trying to get you married to the younger Greengrass girl."

"No, thank you." Draco said after briefly thinking of a life with a domesticated wife that said 'yes' to his every wish.

Fuck no. He shuddered; arguing heatedly with Granger sounded (strangely) more appealing.

After a moment of silence, Narcissa tilted her head to the side and looked at him as if she had just realized something curious, "You know, Draco, first you asked me why I thought Hermione would want to marry you, then you thought I'd be against such a union due to her strong personality. Lastly, you said wife." She smiled an infuriating all-knowing smile. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, son?"

He exhaled loudly, fully aware she already knew the answer to that question, so there was no point lying: "I've been... harbouring feelings for Granger for about two years now."

"Do you love her?" Narcissa asked.

He grimaced. "I-"

"Use the damn word, Draco." she rolled her eyes. "If you love her, say it! Don't give me that harbouring feelings shit."

He ran a hand through his hair again, hearing her mutter: "Stop that horrible habit, it'll ruin your hair."

"Yes, mother." He finally replied. "I do. I love her."

Contrary to the happy expression he had hoped to see, Narcissa folded her hands on her lap and looked at him angrily, "So why, Draco, aren't you courting her?"

"You know it's not that simple."

"If you spout some blood-purity excuse, I'll hex you." She nearly growled.

"No! Of course I don't care about that!" he stood up and stopped by the window, looking at the roses. "Granger hates me, mum. I'm her school bully. A marked death eater." he paused, "I witnessed her torturing by the hands of my own Aunt! I... I still bully her to this day."

Narcissa stared at him with compassion, "You know," she spoke slowly. "We talk about you sometimes, and she never sounds angry when we do, son – she sounds sad."

He touched his forehead to the cold glass of the large window.

"What's wrong with you today, Draco?" Narcissa stood up, sounding worried, and touching a hand to his back.

He took a deep breath and spoke his thoughts out loud: "I think I slept with Granger."

Narcissa froze beside him, "What?" she whispered in shock. "You think you- how on earth you're not sure? Draco Lucius Malfoy, are you doing drugs?"

"No, mother. Of course not! But she was glamoured."

"The pub-girl?" she gasped.

"Yes." He nodded. "As I was also glamoured, she doesn't know it was me, but-"

"Hold on, why do you think she's Hermione?"

"I usually don't lie my last name, for muggles don't recognize it. But I glamour by hair black and my eyes green; when I said I was a Malfoy, she was suspicious. And we ended up admitting to each other that we aren't muggles."

"Everyone in the Wizarding world knows us, Draco. That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes. But then she said she works in the Ministry and if I ever dropped by all I had to do was look for the witch who would be hexing Draco Malfoy from behind – that it would be her."

Narcissa smiled, "How wonderful!"

"No, mum, it's not wonderful! She... Granger – if that's her – has been going to that pub because she loves someone who doesn't love her back! She only slept with Jake – that's me – because she wants to forget him – whoever he is!"

She looked at him with a strange expression, the worried frown between her eyebrows turning softer as she seemed to reach a conclusion.

Draco waited for her to say anything, but after a while realized she wasn't going to expose her thoughts to him; hating the condescending glint in her eyes, he left the room.

He had a lot to think about.