Sunday, August 8, 2020
Hermione wrung her hands anxiously. The feeling of anticipation had not escaped her all week. At first, it had been the excitement of writing to Draco, of letting him know she was ready, that she wanted to see him again. But work and Rose had kept her busy and while many drafts of her letter had been started, all had ended up in the rubbish bin.
Then, the excitement turned to giddiness, when a Malfoy Eagle-owl tapped on her window with a missive asking if she was available for an early dinner on Sunday evening. She'd written a hasty reply, in which she didn't forget to mention that she had her expectations sorted out.
But as the week wore on, her excited giddiness turned to pure anxiousness. Rationally, there was no reason for being anxious over her impending date with Draco. Irrationally, the only thing Hermione thought about was how incredibly wrong everything had gone on their first real date, and how potentially chaotic it would have been had Rose and Scorpius walked into the Potter kitchen a moment later during Rose's birthday party.
The truth was unavoidable, everything that could possibly go wrong during her date with Draco had her anxiously pacing around her living room as she waited for the minutes to tick by on her clock.
They'd agreed to meet at a muggle restaurant. This time, away from the public eye. A small Italian restaurant they'd both agreed on in their short, but frequent, letters this week.
Hermione had obviously been ready almost an hour before their meet-up time and had since been pacing in front of her fireplace, awaiting her departure.
Rose hadn't been amused by her mother's behavior. She sat on their sofa, pretending to read a book while really, she judged her mother as the older witch paced.
Hermione knew her daughter wasn't reading. She herself had pretended to read many a chapter in front of Harry, Ron, and eventually Ginny. She was keenly aware that Rose hadn't turned a page.
So, when the clock marked five minutes to six in the evening, she rushed her judgmental daughter into the fireplace towards Malfoy Manor, without a hint of remorse that her daughter would be spending her evening under the care and vigilance of Narcissa Malfoy.
She quickly apparated towards the restaurant. It didn't surprise Hermione when she found Draco already waiting for her outside. He was dressed in a pair of the same sinful muggle jeans he'd worn the last time she'd seen him. This time, he wore them with a light blue, long-sleeved linen shirt.
Hermione felt butterflies erupting in her tummy at the sight of him.
Yet, he wasn't looking at her. His attention was focused on the girl standing at the entrance counter of the restaurant. He had a serious look on his face as he spoke to her, handing over a bouquet of pink dahlias. The hostess nodded eagerly at each one of Draco's words.
Hermione waited until Draco was done speaking and the girl had briskly walked away, flowers in hand, before approaching him from behind.
"Hello," she sang when she saw him. A bright smile painted her lips.
He turned abruptly to face her. The initial expression of shock quickly morphing into a smirk when he saw who'd spoken to him.
"Granger." He let out a relieved breath.
"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked, in a tone that she knew was much too confident for how she felt at that moment.
"No at all," he sighed, stepping closer towards her. He placed one hand on her hip and pulled her in for a strong embrace, as his other arm wrapped around her. "And before I forget…"
He trailed off, and a hand found its way towards the nape of her neck, holding her in place. Hermione knew what to expect, she just didn't think it would happen so close into the evening.
She'd expected his lips to crash into hers, but instead, he slowly reached for hers, warm to the touch and ever so softly. She felt the warmth of his breath ghosting over her lips momentarily, and finally, finally, his lips touched hers. The kiss sent shockwaves of fire rushing through her. Gently, yet surely, his lips moved against hers and when she felt the swipe of his tongue against hers, her lips parted, granting him access. The kiss sent Hermione into a bliss she hadn't explored in years and she melted into his embrace.
A cough brought Hermione back to her senses and they finally separated, it took her a moment to catch her breath. When she did, the hostess stood beside them pointedly making a show to look away from them. The young woman walked away from them, trying to hide the blush evident in her cheeks.
"What was that?" she asked between thinly veiled pants, turning to look at Draco.
He grinned as he stepped away from her, his hand trailing down her arm until he reached her hand and, twining her fingers in his, pulled her into the restaurant, trailing after the hostess.
"I was determined to not let any misunderstandings or intruding teenagers keep me from kissing you any longer."
Hermione had to suppress a giggle. You're an adult, Hermione, get a grip, she thought to herself, as Draco led her through the restaurant.
She immediately knew which was their table. Against the farthest wall from the entrance, sat a table with two chairs, wrapped in a white tablecloth. The dahlias Draco brought decorated a vase on the side of the table closest to the wall.
Hermione smiled.
Draco, ever the gentleman, pulled the chair for her before taking his place across from her. A server immediately rushed over to take their order. While Draco animatedly ordered a bottle of wine, Hermione busied herself by studying the menu.
"This place seems posh," Hermione commented as soon as the server had retreated from their table.
Draco's lips twisted into a playful smile. "When have I ever failed to be posh, Granger?"
She snorted, quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment, as her cheeks took on a brightened blush.
Draco didn't seem to think anything of it, he laughed as well. They chatted amicably about their weeks until the server arrived to take their orders. When he left, a not uncomfortable silence fell over them. Hermione busied herself swirling her wine.
Draco cleared his throat. "Would it be okay if we spoke about the more pressing issue?"
Hermione let out a relieved breath, she set her wine glass down and smiled at Draco.
"I didn't want to be the one to bring it up."
Draco smirked. "Is this a cowardly Gryffindor I hear?" He said in a teasing tone.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but she didn't make eye contact with him. Instead, she kept carefully studying the bottle of wine as she spoke. "No, I just didn't know when in the evening you would have liked to breach the subject. It is a pretty heavy one and…" She took a heavy sigh and couldn't meet Draco's eyes as she voiced one of the insecurities that had plagued her since childhood. "And I've been told in the past that I rain on parades."
Draco reached for the bottle and she released her hold on it. He gently placed it on the side of the table, then he took one of her hands in his. Hermione finally looked up to meet his eyes, feeling relieved to only find sincerity in them.
"You don't have to be afraid of having difficult conversations with me Granger," he said. His deep grey eyes bore into hers, filling Hermione with a sense of comfort and gratitude at his honesty. "I know how to deal with them, there's been plenty in my life."
Hermione smiled, but she feared it might not have reached her eyes. Not because of what he said, but because of the life he'd lead. Not even after redeeming himself and choosing the side of light, not even after removing himself from the expectations of pureblood upbringing, not even after years of working towards the rebuilding of a Wizarding World that had been decimated by war had the fates been good to Draco Malfoy. Hermione only hoped that she, and her daughter, could be small rays of sunshine in the Malfoy boys' life.
"Right, so, boundaries?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine.
"Right, which boundaries do you think we should have?" He asked in return, resting back on his chair and holding his glass in one hand.
Hermione sighed, she hadn't expected him to ask such a blunt question.
"Well, marriage is definitely off the table for the foreseeable future," she started.
"Definitely," he said, a playful smirk making its way to his lips.
Hermione narrowed his eyes at him but mirrored his smirk.
"I also believe we should be honest with Rose and Scorpius, I don't think we've fully considered how much having a relationship could affect them."
Draco nodded. "I agree. I thought we could keep seeing each other as friends until they're off to Hogwarts. Then, we can explore how our relationship moves forward from there."
Hermione gaped at him. Was she the only unreasonable person in her life who hadn't considered the scenario? Draco had mirrored Ginny's words, and while it gave her hope that this could actually work, it annoyed her to think that she hadn't come up with the solution herself.
"Right, and space would be good for them to get used to the idea of whatever this turns out to be," she added.
Draco agreed. "So, marriage is off the table and honesty with the children," he repeated. "What's the Weasley situation like?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "How is that relevant?"
Draco cleared his throat and straightened himself up. The way his brow furrowed and the gulp he took before speaking made Hermione think he was a bit uncomfortable but waved off the feeling.
"We don't know how serious this relationship can grow to be. While Scorpius' mother isn't in the picture anymore, I understand that Weasley is Rose's father, and he might have some concerns over the implications that a potential relationship could have on Rose."
Hermione frowned. "Ron is okay with me dating. I think we've figured out the whole step mum thing pretty well with Katie. While she's there to support and encourage Rosie whenever needed, she never oversteps or diminishes either mine or Ron's authority as her parents. Katie has always been a support to this dynamic, and during the beginning, when Ron and I hadn't really figured out what type of divorced parents we would be, Katie acted as a peacekeeper," Hermione explained. As she spoke her frown lessened. Draco watched Hermione carefully, taking in every one of her words. "I think Ron would expect the same out of a partner of mine. An ally of sorts."
He nodded, but before he had the chance to say anything their dinner arrived. They busied themselves with their plates and it somehow unnerved Hermione, not because she wasn't hungry, but because she felt the conversation had been left in the air. What did he think? What were his expectations? How did he expect her to interact with Scorpius? Hermione wanted to know.
As if reading her mind Draco spoke up. "I don't think Scorp would appreciate anyone trying to usurp his mother." His words almost caused Hermione to choke on her food.
She coughed, taking a sip of water and he waited until she'd recomposed to continue speaking.
"I guess, my word choice was a bit harsh," he said apologetically as he passed her a napkin.
"A bit?" She questioned.
"What I meant," he pressed in a tone that denoted justification. "Is that Scorp has grown used to being just him and me, he doesn't like it when anybody imposes their authority over him. He clashes with my mother terribly over it, and never misses the chance to remind her that Grandmothers are for spoiling children and not scolding them."
Hermione laughed, she hadn't seen Narcissa Malfoy in years, yet she could imagine the look on her face at being shamed for her antics by her grandson.
"I don't think that's the type of relationship I would like to have with Scorpius, either," she said, staring down at her plate.
She could feel Draco staring at her. "And what type of relationship would you like to have?"
She met his gaze a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"Well, my daughter is a Weasley, and I've been told that Lord Malfoy is incredibly uptight and strict. I think Scorpius needs some fun in his life. Someone to take him out without permission and let him eat ice cream before dinner."
Draco stared at her in perplexion for a moment, then he broke out into laughter. Such joyous contagious laughter called the attention of everyone surrounding them. Hermione quickly joined in, having to wipe away tears from her eyes at the expression on Draco's face. The patrons sitting on the nearby tables stared at them, disdain evident in their faces. The rest of their evening passed in a similar manner, hiding serious topics in between jokes and smiles. They finished their dinner in a light and comfortable mood, ready to speak to their children.
Rose sat up straighter than she'd ever tried in her chair. She kept her elbows off the table. She tried very hard not to scratch her silverware against the plate and she was meticulously careful when she placed her cup down so that it didn't clink against the tabletop.
She did it all under the intense stare of Narcissa Malfoy, sat at the head of the Malfoy Manor dining room table.
Scorpius smiled encouragingly at her from his seat opposite hers, but it did little to quell the churning of her stomach. He wasn't one to talk… or better yet, to flash her a charming grin of empathy, when he himself was the perfect image of sophistication.
Impeccably graceful table manner was only one of the pureblood high society skills that had been drilled into Scorpius' brain since a very young age. Despite this knowledge, she was befuddled to see them put into practice. Scorp certainly did not behave like the society brat he was supposed to portray in school, or else she would have taken the mickey out of him since the moment she met him.
Yet here, in the presence of the ever-graceful Lady Malfoy, he was as posh as could get.
He pulled out a chair for her, he stood when his grandmother had entered the room, neither his china nor his silverware clinked at all— something she couldn't say for herself.
Rose was impressed. She couldn't deny it. As much as it annoyed her that her boyfriend's table manner vastly surpassed hers, she couldn't help but feel butterflies when seeing him like this. She couldn't stop staring at him,
"Rose, how is your grandmother?" Narcissa's low, yet elegant voice brought her out of her reverie.
Rose turned to look at Lady Malfoy, who elegantly sipped on her glass of wine.
"My- My grandmother?" Rose stuttered out the words, confused as to why Narcissa would ask about a muggle old lady. "Oh, yes, Nana Weasley. She's doing okay, always has a full house, and is sure we're all underfed. So, she's happy."
Narcissa's lips turned up in an amused smile, and somehow it reminded her of Nana Weasley, despite how very different these two women were.
"We went to school together, your grandmother and I," Narcissa said in a casual tone. "Of course, Molly was a few years ahead of me, but we coincided enough. She was good friends with my older sister, Andromeda."
Rose nodded. She knew Nana Molly and Andromeda Tonks had been good friends, and they'd grown particularly close after the war, both grieving the deaths of their children but having others for whom to move on. What Rose didn't expect was that Narcissa would mention either woman so casually in conversation. From what she'd heard of the woman, and she'd heard enough to be terrified, the older Malfoys hated the Weasley family.
"And your grandfather? Is he still fascinated by Muggle Artefacts?" Narcissa added.
Rose smiled. "Yes, just recently he bought a muggle science kit that includes telescopes and other instruments that muggles use in laboratories."
Narcissa's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Fascinating."
Just then, a small elf wearing a tea cozy embroidered with the Malfoy crest appeared. She quickly spoke to Narcissa, in a hushed whisper, bowed, and disappeared. Moments later, dinner appeared on the table.
Rose's eyes widened. While salad had been the only food to appear in front of her, she counted four different forks on the table, an array of plates, three knives, and two spoons.
She stared at Scorpius, but he was not served a salad, instead, he happily scooped his soup out of his bowl with a spoon. She turned her gaze towards Narcissa, who reached for the fork closest to her plate.
Rose quickly picked up the same one, and when she lifted her gaze to look at Narcissa, she could see the pride in the older witch's face. The idea hit Rose as swiftly as a bludger would have; she waited for Narcissa to take the first bite, and then she dug into her own salad. Always meeting Narcissa's eating pace, Rose followed her lead.
Whatever utensil Narcissa used, Rose used it as well. Whenever Narcissa took a sip of her wine, Rose raised her glass of pumpkin juice to her lips. Whenever Narcissa asked a question, Rose would reply as elegantly as she possibly could. She tried to imitate the way Grandma Jean spoke to her colleagues.
"When did you first start playing Quidditch?"
"Oh," Rose said, attempting to sound flattered by Narcissa's interest. She could see Scorp rolling his eyes out of the corners of his eyes. "I first started playing with my cousins. You know my aunt, Ginny, she played professionally and would always take us to her practice."
"Scorp tells us you're quite talented," Narcissa mussed.
"No, grandmother," he interrupted. "She's the most talented player in all the house teams. Rose has the highest scoring record. She even broke the scoring record set by Professor McGonagall when she was on the Gryffindor team! The only player to ever have even come close was Charlie Weasley and that was when he was in his fifth year!"
Rose felt her cheeks warm.
"Well, I mean, I got lucky. Hufflepuff had a new keeper and one of their beaters got knocked out in the first minute of the-"
"Don't you dare!" Scorpius interjected. "Don't you dare undermine your talents. She's the best player Hogwarts has seen in decades.
She blushed and looked down, letting her red curls tumble down to cover her blushing face. When she looked up, her salad had disappeared. In its place sat a dinner plate of fish and roasted potatoes.
They tucked into their food, keeping up an amicable conversation. Rose always followed Narcissa's table etiquette and both teens followed her conversation swiftly. Rose could admit that she enjoyed herself. Narcissa was quick to praise both her and Scorpius for their different achievements and Scorp didn't hesitate to brag about Rose every opportunity they got.
Soon, the plates had been cleared and Narcissa whispered instructions to the elves while Rose stretched back in her seat, wondering how she would ask her mother for permission to come over to dinner with Narcissa more often.
When the elf disapparated with a crack, Narcissa sat up straight and smiled. "It appears your parents have arrived."
Rose's smile fell. She'd almost forgotten the reason why she was having dinner with Narcissa in the first place. No, she was being babysat by Narcissa and she had been furious over it before she had arrived. It had less to do with spending time with Scorpius and Narcissa and more with the fact that her mother had decided to date Mr. Malfoy.
It hadn't really dawned on Rose, not until she and Scorp walked in on them standing so close to each other in the Weasley kitchen. It had been like being hit with a freezing aquamenti. She tried asking her mother about what was happening between them, but Hermione had only smiled and hummed her way through what felt like thousands of owls between herself and Scorp's dad. Until last night, when she'd dropped the bomb of their date and given only for an explanation that Mr. Malfoy and she would be discussing the future of their friendship.
Rose had just about made up her mind to ignore her mother completely when they heard a knock on the dining hall doors.
"How did she know?" she asked Scorp in a whisper.
He smiled at her and mouthed, "The wards."
Narcissa lifted an eyebrow. "Come in, my dears."
The door opened and in trailed Draco and Hermione. Rose didn't miss how her mother extracted her hand from Mr. Malfoy as soon as she stepped through the doorway. Her dinner threatened to make a reappearance at the sight.
"Miss Granger, you look lovely. Welcome to our home." Narcissa stood to greet Hermione in such an elegant tone that it caused Rose to fight back a snicker.
A smile painted itself on Hermione's lips, as Narcissa kissed both her cheeks. "Thank you Mrs. Malfoy and thank you for looking after Rose tonight."
Narcissa waved off Hermione's words, taking her seat once more. "We weren't expecting you so early. Did you have a lovely dinner?"
"Yes, we did mother," Draco said stepping towards his mother and placing a kiss on her cheek. "We came back early because we wanted to speak to the children."
Narcissa's lips twisted into a huge smile.
"Lovely, sit."
The words left her mouth in a tone that allowed for no discussion. Draco, however, would not be compelled.
"Mother, we want to speak to the children alone."
Narcissa raised both eyebrows in feigned confusion and then motioned towards the chairs. "Nonsense, dear, the children haven't had dessert. Did you have dessert?"
Rose watched Draco's jaw clench and Scorpius hide his smile behind his hands.
"Mother, we-"
"Would love to have some dessert!" Hermione interrupted, pushing Draco towards a chair.
Draco looked just as shocked as Rose felt as Hermione took a chair beside her daughter. She gave Rose an awkward smile and Rose returned her a quizzical look.
The panic in her mother's eyes was foreign to Rose and there could only be one possible explanation. Was Hermione Granger, war heroine, afraid of Narcissa Malfoy? She wasn't even afraid of Nana Weasley and, by Rose's estimation, she was far more terrifying.
Narcissa clasped her hands and smiled broadly. "What did we need to talk about?"
The nerve in Mr. Malfoy's forehead twitched and this time, Rose was sure she heard Scorpius giggle.
"Mother, we wanted to have this conversation in private."
Hurt flashed in the older witch's eyes for a moment and she made to stand.
"Oh Draco, but you can't expect your mother to leave. She's family." Hermione's voice was high-pitched as she motioned for Narcissa to stay.
However amusing Scorp had thought this exchange to be, his opinion had changed entirely. When Rose turned to meet his gaze, she found panic in his eyes that mirror the dread she felt over her mother's word choice.
Narcissa Malfoy was not family. Mr. Malfoy was not family. Scorpius Malfoy was definitely not family. Not her family. Her family consisted of rowdy redheads with cannibalistic table manners and no sense of boundaries or respect for anything other than Nana Weasley and her wand. Her boyfriend and his impeccably polite father and grandmother did not fit in her definition of family by any circumstance. Ever.
It seemed to Rose ages had passed when Mr. Malfoy finally relented and pulled a chair beside Scorp, who turned to look at his father.
"What's going on, Dad?"
"Father." Narcissa corrected quietly yet firmly from the other end of the table.
Had this whole dinner not turned into an imminent fiasco, Rose would have found it the most hilarious thing on the planet.
Scorp took a deep breath. "What is going on, father?" He corrected, pushing every ounce of disdain into the last word.
Mr. Malfoy placed his hand on Scorpius's back and Scorp frowned into his empty dessert plate.
"Hermione and I had a very pleasant talk at dinner tonight," he began in a leveled voice and paused. It eerily reminded her of the tone her own father had used on the day they broke the news of the divorce to Rose.
"Yes?" Rose pressed.
She felt, more than saw, her mother's head snap to the side to stare at Rose. Her voice had been demanding, disrespectful even in just one word. She would be scolded later.
Mr. Malfoy stared at them, a look of concern flashing over his features.
"Because both of your feelings are extremely important to us, we've decided that we would like to be respectful of your relationship," Mr. Malfoy said.
"We know this is a difficult position to be in," her mother continued. It seemed a rehearsed dance to Rose and it left a sour taste in her mouth. "Especially with how uncertain everything is at your age and taking into consideration that you still have almost a whole month of summer holiday before going back to school."
Rose opened her mouth to interrupt, but Scorp beat her to it. "You still haven't told us anything. Did you decide to date or not?"
Narcissa cleared her throat at her grandson's interruption but gave no further sign of being displeased. Rose thought that Narcissa wanted to know what had happened at dinner just as much as she and Scorp did.
Hermione and Mr. Malfoy exchanged apprehensive looks, and after a loaded silence.
"Yes," Mr. Malfoy finally offered.
"But only after you've gone away to Hogwarts," Hermione added in a rush.
"That was it gives us both time to see where this goes without making either of you feel uncomfortable." Mr. Malfoy looked at Scorp as he spoke.
"And you also have time to get used to the idea without having to watch it unfold." Hermione finished, turning to look at her daughter. Rose could see the pleading in her mother's eyes, but it did nothing to quell her worries.
This was awful. This was an awful agreement, this was an awful arrangement. It was uncomfortable enough that her mother was dating her boyfriend's dad, but now, she also had to think about the fact that this was happening and neither of them would have any idea how it was going?
She'd live imagining the worst-case scenario, which in this case seemed to be both that it worked and it didn't between her mum and Mr. Malfoy. What would she do if she woke up one day to find her owl letting her know that they'd broken up, and then Scorpius forever blamed her for his father's heartache? What if they came home from school next summer to find that their parents had moved in together and they'd be living in adjacent bedrooms, as siblings? What would she do if she ended up dating her stepbrother?
None of this had worked, and it angered Rose beyond measure that her mother had the audacity to sit there and pretend they had considered their feelings when clearly they hadn't.
The room felt scorching hot. It was hard to breathe and Rose stood from her chair so abruptly her ears wrung as she faintly heard her mother's worried voice, she could not make out the words. Were they aimed at her? She didn't know, all she knew was that she needed to get out, to leave, to go to a place where she could breathe.
She needed to mount a broom and quickly. She couldn't look at her mother or Narcissa or Mr. Malfoy. But she certainly couldn't look at Scorp when the realization of what she had to do dawned on her.
She turned to him, but her eyes remained glued to the empty plate in front of him. She felt the tears well in her eyes and her mouth ran dry as she opened it to speak.
"I'm sorry Scorp." Was that her voice cracking? "I can't… I can't do this." She gasped between sobs that were slowly turning uncontrollable. "I cannot pretend that this is okay. I can't be your girlfriend anymore."
She ran through the open doors, ignoring her mother's voice calling behind her and the steps she knew to be Scorpius's that followed her.
She reached the parlor and throwing in the green powder into the dying embers of the fireplace she went to the only place she could hide from her mother, the only place where she knew she would be safe and the only place that she'd be able to mouth a broom and fly without having to give any sort of explanation. She went to Uncle Harry.
Hey all! I wanted to firstly thank all of you who have waited patiently for this chapter. The past five months have been crazy for me (not necessarily in a bad way). I am officially making my way back to fandom and to finishing this story and hopefully the end is near! Once again, thank you so much.
