Narcissa Malfoy had always had an overprotective maternal instinct.
Growing up as the youngest in a family of five, she found herself doting on baby dolls as her family did to her. During her teenage years at Hogwarts, while her roommates rolled their eyes about becoming someone's wife and staying home with the children, she longed for the day she had a baby of her own. Plagued by infertility, the birth of her son, Draco, was a dream come true. As Draco grew older, she fought countless arguments with her husband over sending him to their alma mata to keep him closer to her. Throughout his teenage years, Narcissa even went as far as to make an unbreakable vow and lie to the Dark Lord to keep Draco safe.
So when she watched her baby boy loosen his tie from the noose it had created around his throat, take a swing from an open bottle of champagne, and asked her to bring him a woman other than his fiancé during his engagement party, she paused and questioned his request.
She was just looking out for her son's well being.
Narcissa's question was answered with a glare full of rage and, dare she say, heartbreak. He looked broken. Having seen the look on his face only once before -the night the Wizengamot sentenced her husband to Azkaban for the second time- Narcissa switched gears from concerned mother to the graceful hostess and set out in search of her son's work partner.
Making her way across the manor's centuries-old ballroom, she observed the witch. The witch's usual unruly brown curls had been tamed in a casual updo to show off the opening in the back of the silver, long-sleeved dress. The sleeves were, without a doubt, a way of covering the scar she had received on the drawing-room floor, five and a half years earlier. Similar to that horrible night, by her side was the savior of the Wizarding World. Harry handed her a champagne glass that she met with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
After excusing the girl from her date, Narcissa realized she looked like a slightly less broken version of her son.
When the unlikely duo reached the kitchens where her son was hiding, Narcissa hesitantly let Hermione enter the room first, allowing the younger woman to take the lead, ready to swoop in and shield her baby when it became necessary.
As Draco raised the champagne bottle in a toast towards Hermione, the action caused a flicker of recognition to dance across her face.
"Malfoy, hey. What's going on? I've never seen Draco Malfoy shy away from being the center of attention," Hermione badly joked, attempting to break the silence in the room.
Another swing of champagne.
"Astoria."
For a moment, the single word answer stumped both women. Perfectly manicured brows furrowed, Narcissa started to press the issue further, just as Hermione let out a gasp in realization.
Draco Malfoy never referred to his fiancé, Astoria Greengrass, as anything other than Tori.
And she never called Ronald Weasley anything but Ron until the day he called off their engagement three months ago.
Newfound suspicious in hand, Hermione turned to the Malfoy family's matriarch. She pleaded with the older woman to cancel the party, spewing plausible excuses of work emergencies and suggestions of having Harry Potter help her end the night. "It's what's best for your son."
Narcissa opened her mouth to reject Hermione's wishes. How dare a guest in her home tell her to cancel an event she was in the middle of hosting and claim she knew Draco better than his mother, but her son's muttering of "brightest witch of her age" stopped her. The looks between the two were telling her that there was some form of silent communication happening between Draco and his fellow curse-breaking partner of four years.
If Hermione Granger had figured out enough that ending the party was what was best for Draco, she would do it.
She would always do what was best for her family.
After calling off the party with excuses and numerous apologies, Narcissa made her way back towards the kitchen. She silently pushed aside a loose wooden panel to create a small opening that looked into the kitchen. After accidentally discovering one night, it had been her secret way of spying on the house-elves when hosting parties to make sure everything was going according to plan. Narcissa knew to give her son and his coworker space, but she was still going nearby if he needed her.
They had moved from standing across from each other to sitting side by side on top of the kitchen countertop. They sat silently, just passing the bottle of champagne back and forth. Taking the last swing, Hermione turned towards Draco. "We finished the bottle; now you have to tell me what happened."
If looks could kill, Narcissa thought, Hermione Granger would have been dead in her kitchen after the glare her son gave her.
"You wouldn't let me off the hook, I'm doing the same thing. What was it you said? It can't be that bad, Granger."
"Yeah, well, obviously, once again, you were right, and I was wrong. No surprise there." Draco rolled his eyes and summoned another bottle of champagne to them. He took a deep breath, followed it with a healthy swing from the bottle before sliding down to rest his head on Hermione's lap. Almost naturally, Narcissa noticed, Hermione's hands started to run through his blond hair like it was a normal position for the duo.
"Tori, fuck- Astoria, left me."
As Narcissa listened to Draco explain how Astoria had come to him and asked for his permission, as the head of the Malfoy family, to end the engagement because she was in love with Adrian Pucey, of all people, she saw red. Such a stupid girl, Narcissa thought. It didn't matter if she didn't want to be married to Draco because she was in love with someone else. She was a pureblooded woman. She was supposed to shut up and accept her marriage contract.
But Narcissa noticed that where she felt anger, Hermione and her bleeding heart Gryffindor tendencies had chosen to focus on how her son had done the right thing. How he had let her be happy, and now he would find someone else to fall in love with. Narcissa realized now why her son had asked for Hermione. Where she had her claws out and ready to fight for her family, the younger woman had open arms and a listening ear.
At that moment, Hermione Granger was what was best for her family.
Narcissa continued to spy on her son and his work partner as the night went on, and they consumed their fair share of the champagne. She waited for the right moment to interrupt, to send her girl home, and be the one to console her son. However, the longer she stood, the more she noticed there was never an awkward moment between them. Even in the silence, the other's presence seemed to be a comfort.
"Gods were going to make quite the duo on Monday when we have to lead this quarter's newest trainees," Hermione said, jumping off the counter and holding up an empty bottle like a microphone. "Hello, all, former war heroine Hermione Granger and ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, here. Welcome to the Curse-Breaking Department at Gringotts. Where you'll not only risk your life every day fighting off centuries-old curses for greedy goblins, but you'll probably end up being dumped by your fiancѐ in the process." Hermione quipped, rolling her eyes in the process.
Draco barked a dry, humorless laugh at her antics. "Not our fault we're both married to our jobs, Granger. Oh, and I'm not coming in on Monday. I've come down sick with heartbreak."
Hermione's amber eyes widened in shock. "No way in hell are you leaving me alone with those newbies, Malfoy. You dragged my heartbroken arse into last quarter's training, and I'm doing the same to you. Karma."
Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "fine, but you owe me a drink on Friday then."
"Is Draco Malfoy asking me to be his wing-woman?" Hermione said, mocking surprise. "Let's make a bet, and if you end up snogging a witch and not coming home, you're throwing the first counter curse on our next assignment."
"Oh, hell Granger, I've got to risk my life just for kissing someone? But you're so on because when you end up going home with some bloke, you're the one throwing the first curse."
"I typically throw the first one anyways!"
As the two former enemies drunkenly bickered, Narcissa slid back the wooden panel and stepped into the night. She had seen enough to know that her son would be alright, even if she were not the one to put him back together.
Draco didn't come home that Friday night.
But, Narcissa heard from Ethel Parkinson the following Sunday at their weekly tea that Pansy complained that Hermione Granger did not go home alone.
Three years and six days after the anniversary of her son's failed engagement party, Narcissa found herself pushing aside the same loose wooden panel to create a small opening that looked into the kitchen. From her hiding spot, she watched her son twirl his new wife around the kitchen, where they had once sat drinking champagne and talking about since forgotten heartbreaks.
And, as she slid the panel back, she realized Hermione Granger-Malfoy was best for her son's well being after all.