Chapter 27: Petition for a Change Chapter Text
Pansy Parkinson pursed her lips and drew them to the side as she poured over the photographs her paper had sent her. Sport was handling the details of the match, and she'd been tasked with covering the social aspect. Her new job as editor of the Society and events pages (a title that sounded grander than it actually was) entailed writing about frivolous parties and empty promise balls. This, however , was something else. This news could change everything and pull her out of 'who wore what worse' hell.
"I hope you haven't called me here for a social visit, Pansy. I don't do idle chitchat." Narcissa Malfoy snipped as she stepped out of the fire and into the modest living area. "Merlin, darling, is this your home? I thought your papa bought you a flat in Chelsea?" Narcissa gaped at the kitchenette and breakfast bar, which were part of the living room.
"That flat came with too many strings. So I cut them all." Pansy jutted her chin. "I'm a barely self-sufficient adult. who would have thought?" Pansy stood and indicated Narcissa should sit.
"You just went up in my estimation, girl." Narcissa took the seat and spied the pile of photos. "What's this then?"
"I've been asked to cover the attendees at today's match." Parkinson lifted a picture and handed it to the woman she'd idolised as a child. Draco was grinning, one arm protecting James Potter as Harry Potter climbed on his shoulders. It was fun and made her son look almost like he was one of them. The more noteworthy aspect was the Granger girl. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, and her arms snaked around his neck. She turned her head into his collar crying with relief. Narcissa couldn't help the strange swell she felt in her heart as she watched her son press a kiss to the top of Hermione's head reflexively.
"And this one," Pansy handed Narcissa another picture. After the match, Draco is still carrying that beautiful baby leaning in to whisper something in Hermione's ear. The Granger girl gasps, and he grins, pulling back. Then they share a look. Something incredibly intense and genuine. When her son had indicated a desire to pursue the woman, Narcissa thought it would take months. She'd clearly underestimated her son's prowess. "If they were trying to be discreet, they failed." Pansy smiled as she watched Narcissa see a side of her son she'd probably never witnessed before.
"How many people have glimpsed these pictures?" Narcissa didn't sound harried, simply curious.
"Just me, Jimmy Olsen delivered the cameras, and I processed them." Pansy pulled a leg under herself "it's quicker that way. I need to build my stories around the visuals."
"And what kind of story will you build, Pansy?" Narcissa popped a perfect eyebrow up.
"If I splash this on the front page," She tapped on the picture of them staring at each other like they might kiss. "it'll be huge. I'll have my fifteen minutes and maybe even get myself a bonus." Pansy cricked her neck "but, I want more than fifteen minutes." she leaned toward Narcissa, "I want to play the long game. I will publish these," She slid two more pictures into Narcissa's hands. Harry and Hermione hugging Draco without the kiss and one of Draco fixing Hermione's hat while James kicked happily between them. "There's still a story there, but it's more speculative. They could just be good friends." Pansy gave Narcissa her trademark cat-like grin. "My write up will be positive. My skew will be hopeful that this grows into a relationship. I don't know if you approve or not… given Granger's…." Pansy observed the woman, looking for a tell, anything to give away her feeling on the matter.
"Do you care if I approve or not?" Narcissa's mouth was drawn tight.
"I care because I believed you were one of the few adults in my life who saw past all the blood purity and madness. I care because I thought you, like I, would see the benefit of such a union for the greater good. But, does it matter? No. Your opinion on the golden girl has no impact on what I'll write." Pansy Parkinson stated plainly, her face just as unwavering as the Malfoy woman.
"Excellent answer, young Parkinson, we'll make a lady of you yet." Narcissa's smile reached her eyes. The crinkle reminded Pansy of Draco when he'd been young and carefree.
"If I play it down now, I want access later. I want the exclusive announcement of their engagement, and I guarantee you three things, the word Death Eater won't appear in it. It will feature a photograph of you with the couple, and there'll be no mention of Lucky." Pansy laid her wares on her stall and waited to see if the woman would buy or barter.
"He hates being called that." Narcissa beamed.
"I know." Pansy flicked her wand, and a tea tray, similar to Narcissa's, appeared on the small table.
"I'm hosting the first gathering of the Liberated Elf Society at my new townhouse in Fulham next week. You should come as my guest. Hermione Granger will be there. I'll make introductions." Narcissa presented a counteroffer.
"That's very generous, thank you." Pansy accepted with a prim sip of black tea, not how she really took it, but she knew it was Mrs Malfoy's preference "A new townhouse? I didn't know you were buying."
"I won it in a bet with a wizard from Saudi Arabia," Narcissa laughed a tinkling little laugh, her eyes softening as she took the measure of Pansy. She'd gotten thinner since she'd last laid eyes on her, perhaps a little weary of the world. "Have you been in touch with your parents at all?"
"Not since the trials, I refused to lie anymore, which disappointed them greatly." Pansy clicked her tongue and willed the burning to subside in the back of her throat. The threat of tears had been more prevailing since her encounter with her former flame, Blaise Zabini. Now she felt constantly on the verge. It was disconcerting.
"They don't deserve you, dear. How you choose to live your life is admirable, and I am proud of you, Pansy. Immensely so." Narcissa laid her hand on Pansy's arm, a sign of affection she saved only for the most sincere of moments.
"Thank you." Tears Pansy Parkinson had managed to withhold for years, through sheer determination and strength of will, rolled down her cheeks.
"Can I take these with me?" Narcissa pointed at the pictures Pansy had opted not to publish. Weepily, Pansy nodded. "I'm going to frame the one with Mr Potter and Miss Granger embracing my son and post the other one to Lucky." She tapped the never-ending loop of Draco whispering sweet nothings into Hermione's ear. "I'll not explain to him that the baby is James Potter. Let his imagination run wild." she tilted her chin and smirked. Pansy chuckled wetly and glanced up at the woman.
"I think that's a brilliant idea."
"That Quidditch match got me thinking." Hermione grinned over at him sprawled on her couch as she sorted files.
"I love it when you think, Granger." His spine straightened, and his lips slipped between his teeth.
"Down, boy." She commanded with a wave of her hand. "I've got to finalise a mailing list for your mother and petition for a change in classification. "Hermione scribbled a name down speedily, then turned her eyes back to Draco, the smile not leaving her mouth.
"your face is telling a different story, darling." He slid from the sofa to join her on the floor, half a meter between them.
"My face isn't in my control around you, Malfoy. And you know it, so stop making me fluttery." She picked up another piece of parchment and scanned it for the name of the man who'd liberated his elves in Bath.
"You were the one who started this, Miss Granger. You said you'd been thinking. Pray, tell me those thoughts before I combust with anticipation?" He leaned forward and grabbed her ankle.
"You are the single most dramatic human alive." She tutted, placing the paper she held into its corresponding box. She tilted her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "In Hogwarts," the colour deepened as her neck flushed, "I had this… thought, or maybe a fantasy, it's so stupid."
"Nothing that falls from your lips is stupid," He dragged her toward him by the ankle. Flinging the leg over his, her other remained curled in front of her.
"Could… if you've still got one, I mean, could I have one of your Quidditch Jersey's?" Her face was crimson as she tucked her chin into her chest and kept her eyes off him.
"what?" Draco's mouth had gone dry. Surely he'd heard her wrong. Surely she hadn't unwittingly stumbled onto one of his top three sexual fantasies. Draco's entire fifth, sixth and eighth years had been plagued by a singular image, something he'd dreamed up during a wank in the Slytherin showers. In nothing more than his green Quidditch jumper, Hermione Granger kneeling on his bed… he was rock hard.
"It's just," She flustered, taking his reaction to mean actual confusion and not aroused astonishment. "I, em… at Hogwarts, I always thought it was kind of sweet when girls wore their boy's jumper to bed. I just, I wanted … It's stupid… I told you…."
"There is nothing stupid about this," He almost growled, tugging her so close she was trapped between his open legs. "This is very serious indeed." and he sounded it. Hermione swallowed. "TAYLOR!" He tilted his neck back and bellowed. An elf in a full squire's tabard and breeches popped into her living room.
"Yes, your Grace?" The elf bowed, shooting Hermione a cheeky grin.
"Go to the manor and fetch me my Slytherin Quidditch Jerseys," Draco ordered.
"All of them, your Grace?"
"Yes, Taylor, on the double." Draco's eyes didn't leave Hermione's.
"You've got an elf?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow raised.
"He came to the village last month, a real go-getter, asked for a job as my squire. I told him he could be my personal assistant. He's stuck with squire. I pay him the minimum wage." He shrugged with a smile.
"The minimum elf wage is barbaric, Draco!" Hermione felt suddenly very disappointed indeed.
"I pay him the minimum wizarding wage, ten Galleons a week." he watched as Hermione's face broke into a grin. He knew what he was doing. He'd misled her on purpose to observe her face breaking with pride.
"Here you go, My Grace." Taylor dumped a pile of unfolded green fabric onto the ground beside the pair.
"Thank you, Taylor." Draco nodded, and the elf was gone again. "He really wants us to get a horse. I'm almost tempted." The king of the elves smiled a boyish smile and looked bashfully at Hermione. She felt her insides burn with want. She glanced at the piles of paperwork still to be completed and pushed back from him. She was still Hermione Granger, nothing if not an industrious worker.
"Will I need that many?" She asked, picking up her list of possible donors again.
"One for every day of the week, but the big one would be my preference." He fingered the fabric. "Your naked little body swamped in it, in me . I think I'd implode."
She turned her lips down as she processed his words, "I think we should test your theory." she grinned. "But no touching, just looking. I want to finish my work."
"it's happening." Draco breathed. He watched her unbutton her blouse as she knelt before him.
"Is this really something you've thought about?" She shrugged the cotton from her shoulders and reached behind her.
"Yes." he swallowed. "So very much."
"Me too," she admitted, fire in her cheeks as she pulled her bra down her arms. "In that last year at school, I'd see you flying and imagine you in the showers, after." Hermione fell back onto her bum and reclined a little, watching as Draco failed to find words. His mouth opened and closed as he gripped the largest of the Slytherin jumpers. She undid the button of her jeans and shimmied them down her thighs. "Can you pull these off?" She asked, all innocence, the jeans wrapped around her ankles. Draco nodded, his hands moving slowly over her thigh and down behind her knees until touching the denim he'd been sent to retrieve. "I don't think I've ever seen you at a loss for words." She smirked and playfully kicked her feet, reminding him of his task.
"I… Am endlessly amazed by you, Hermione." He breathed through his nose as he tugged the fabric off her feet and threw the jeans behind her couch.
"You don't think you'd get bored of me?" she pushed herself up onto her elbows and grinned. He'd been the driving force in their short but intense relationship. She wanted to show him that it wasn't a one-sided affair, that she was capable of development… beyond perpetually mind-blown .
"I've wanted you since before I knew what that meant, Granger. Every iteration of you has captivated me," he leaned forward, hooking his fingers into her knickers and dragging them down her legs. "I imagine every evolution of Hermione Granger, hereafter, will have the same effect." he tossed her underwear in the similar direction of the jeans. "So to answer your question, Granger, no. I'll never get bored of you."
Hermione returned to mind-blown and blinked as she digested his loving words. "Good." was all she managed to muster as she returned to her knees, her cheeks pink with her own daring. Kneeling, stark naked, in her living room between Draco Malfoy's open legs. "Give me." She tugged at the jumper he'd returned to clutching, and his fingers yielded.
He watched as she pulled the fabric tent over her head. Curls burst from the head hole like spring grass, and his breathing stopped. His heart stuttered when she slid her hands around her neck and under her hair to pull the rest from inside the jumper. He'd imagined this. He'd wished for this. He'd wanted this more than anything in the world, and here she was. Her head was the only fully visible part of her. The rest he knew naked and securely wrapped in his number, his name.
She smiled at him as she pushed back to her paperwork. She noted with a swoop of her gut, the vein in his neck throbbing, his white knuckles, and his trousers' strain. She made him feel that. Wet heat gathered in her core.
Draco watched as her legs slipped from under the cloth, curling around her as she quickly filled the paperwork needed to start the re-classification process. She nibbled on her quill as she read a complicatedly worded question. Draco groaned, the vision of her making him throb.
They sat in silence, him in a persistent and growingly painful state of arousal and her diligently filling out forms. His heart stopped when she pushed herself to her feet, her slim bare legs only visible from below the knee down toddled to the fireplace where she knelt, throwing in some powder and calling her old department's file room. She threw the application into the green flames, stood and turned to Draco. A broad smile played on her lips, puffed from her gnawing on them.
"Hi, Draco." She ducked her head and bit her lip, only playing coy.
Draco's eyebrows screwed together at her words, his rear left the ground, and she thought for a moment that he was going to stand. "Fuckety-fuck," he stuttered. Hermione's eyes widened. She wasn't sure whether to be proud or disappointed.
"Well, that hasn't happened in a very long time." He stared down at his crotch in horror.