Narcissa catches her son watching Hermione Granger at a ball; A story in 3.3 parts.
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Part 1
Version 1
"She would make a fine wife, Draco."
"Mother."
"What is it, my darling?"
"Granger? Seriously, Mother." He practically scoffed.
She didn't respond but smiled pleasantly at some acquaintance who was passing by. Draco watched his mother as she watched Granger. The Golden Girl was visible through the spars crowd, laughing with some foreign officials whose eyes were sparkling for her.
"You would have beautiful children." He stiffened. "And intelligent." An unwanted addition.
"Half-blood children. A half-blood heir." Draco countered heatedly. Narcissa turned to look at her son.
"I thought you didn't care about the family line, Draco?" He didn't respond, but looked out over the party at her. Narcissa followed his gaze and tracked his expression.
"I've never seen her perform magic but you must have. Is it strong?" He couldn't remember if he ever had but that didn't matter.
"Yes." He thought of her hand connecting with his face all the way back in third year. "It's very strong." Narcissa watched her son who was now watching the young witch himself.
"Think about it, my darling." She cupped his cheek and gave him a kiss. "You should find Pansy and offer her a dance. I believe she is sitting at the Prophet's table."
"Yes, Mother."
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Version 2
"Have you ever given Miss Granger a thought, Draco?"
"Mother."
"What, darling?" Was she serious?
"Why would I give Granger a thought?" He almost scoffed.
"Well I'm not sure why you wouldn't. She is a very accomplished and beautiful young woman, Draco." Oh, so she's playing dumb. How motherly.
He looked out over the party at her and clenched his jaw thinking back over the many news articles he'd read about her. The photos of her sparkling eyes and wide smile. Paragraphs on her latest achievements. Then his mind flashed with the memory of watching her scream and writhe on his drawing room floor. He looked away, feeling inordinately annoyed with his mother and trying not to show it. Appearances. Ever so important.
"That doesn't mean she's an option for me, Mother." He tried to sound bored. A trusty cover and one that his mother was well acquainted with.
"Oh, darling." She reached for his face to turn it to him. Delicately holding his chin with graceful fingers, forcing him to look her in the eye. "You can have anything you want. I always wanted that for you." She taped his face gently and pulled her hand away to rest on his arm. "You should find Pansy and the Greengrass girls. Make sure to offer them all a dance." She gave his arm a squeeze and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.
"Yes, Mother."
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Version 3
"Miss Granger is looking very pretty this evening."
"Mother."
"Doesn't that dress look wonderful on her? What lovely taste she has. Have you offered her a dance yet, Draco?" She always did this; Pick out a suitable candidate for him to pursue for the evening then act like she wasn't telling him to do it.
"Mother. Granger would not accept a dance from me."
"Have you already tried, Draco?" He clenched his jaw. He knew his quick mother wouldn't need an answer. His silence was enough. She raised a cool eyebrow at him. "How can you be so sure if you haven't tried?" She cooed. He sighed and then diverted his attention from her. Perhaps more hors d'oeuvres had finally been brought out.
His mother was still looking at him expectantly.
"You know we have too much history, Mother." How could she be so ridiculous? He didn't think it could get any worse than the girl she had chosen for him last month. Not only did the, admittedly very beautiful, daughter of the Bulgarian Minister for magic only speak Bulgarian, she was barely 18. His mother's level of desperation for him was becoming disconcerting.
"But history is just that, darling! You shouldn't dwell on the past." She eyed her tense son. "I saw her talking to Theodor Nott earlier." He clenched his jaw and looked away again. How irrelevant.
"Theo is a charmer." Trying hard to keep his tone light so that the surrounding guests didn't mistake their conversation for an argument. "And he didn't go out of his way to bully her for years." He downed his champagne and looked around for a tray to put his empty glass on. "His family members also didn't torture her in front of him so-"
"Oh Draco, darling," his mother cut him off. "- you know I don't like it when you bring all that up."
"It's healthier to talk about it, Mother." He quipped.
"Well have you talked about it with her." He tensed up at the thought and his face told her everything, as usual. Touché, Mother. "You should give it a try one day, darling." She said seriously and cupped his face. "The sooner the better. I'm sure she'll be willing to listen." He scoffed. "Don't make that sound, darling." She scolded him, tapping his cheek a couple of times and moved her hand away. "Have you danced with Pansy and the Greengrasses yet?" He shook his head. "Well make sure to do so soon. Mrs Zabini is also here tonight."
"I noticed." Narcissa smiled at her pretty son and his barely contained grimace.
"It would be rude of you to avoid her completely, darling. You should offer her a dance as well."
"Yes, Mother."
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