Enjoy!
"Does anyone actually care enough about my life for us to be interviewed?" Hermione asked, eyes wide.
Narcissa and Luna giggled, sharing a look over the table as they often did when Hermione made a comment they found quaint or lacking. Much to the muggleborn's irritation, that proved to be all of the time.
"Hermione, not to be crass and speak of private matters, but the Malfoy line is one of the oldest and most prestigious in the world. There is no one at home or abroad who won't want to know everything there is to know about you."
"What mum's putting politely is that we're rich and powerful, Granger. All of the hotshots around the world will want to woo you with gifts and betrothal contracts," Draco explained with far less tact than his mother, receiving a firm nod from his own father.
"I'm not marrying anyone who thinks the way to my heart is by sending papa a contract in the mail," Hermione replied with a dramatic eye roll. "And, for the record, that's Malfoy to you."
"Of course not, dear. The interview, however, is non-negotiable. Tom will be over after dinner to discuss the politics of it all."
"I'm sure he will," Hermione muttered, annoyed at how involved her boss, love interest, whoever he is, was involved with her transition to becoming a Malfoy. Deep down, she was grateful for Tom's constant protection in the face of nosy members of the press after the news slowly started spreading that Hermione was now, for all intents and purposes, a Malfoy.
The girl had changed her last name at both Tom and Pansy's urging, feeling less than sentimental about shedding the Granger name and taking what felt like her final step into the wizarding world.
"Bella and Pansy will be over as well to help you get ready," Narcissa smiled. "Everything will be just fine."
Hermione nodded at the woman, feeling in her gut that things actually would be just fine for the first time in a long while.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Another morning at Malfoy Manor meant another opportunity for Hermione to be horrified at finding Luna and Draco naked in a hallway.
"Really? The ladies parlour?" Hermione shrieked, hair crackling with magic as her temperature rose.
"The sunlight streams in so perfectly, Hermione. We can't be blamed," Luna replied happily, hand wrapped in Draco's hair and holding his face to her naked chest. The girl knew by now that Draco was unwilling to make eye contact with her, his bloody aunt, when he was naked.
"I just wanted to read before my life is flipped upside down even more," Hermione muttered as she stormed out and headed back towards her room.
"Time's wasting, girl," Pansy said as Hermione walked into the room she'd evacuated only minutes before.
"What are you doing here? The sun is barely up," Hermione whined, slapping her book down onto a side table. The room she was given at the manor was gloriously beautiful, the walls painted lilac and the snow white duvet being the softest fabric she'd ever felt. Living in a mansion was one of the best moves she'd ever made, not that she'd share that publicly. Her reputation as the bookish, modest one was on the line.
"I know from experience how long that hair takes to tame," Bellatrix said as she stepped out from Hermione's ensuite bathroom, a wide toothed comb already in her hands. "No time to waste!"
By the time Hermione had been plucked, prodded and primped, she looked like a high-class version of herself. Not quite a Barbie doll, but a woman who knew how to dress for her body without looking like a total trollop.
"You're welcome," Pansy purred with a smirk. "Now go show your man what a Malfoy woman looks like."
"Man?" Bellatrix asked, sharing an excited look with her sister.
"I don't have a man," Hermione replied forcefully with a blush.
An elf popped into the room, saving Hermione from Bellatrix's knowing look.
"Hi Mistress Hermione," the little pink elf said with wide, adoring eyes. Abraxas had brought on an elf for Hermione that'd previously served as the handmaid to an elderly heiress who'd recently died, and everyone was shocked and slightly perturbed at its devotion to the girl.
"Hi Stella," the girl replied with an equally pleasant look that had Pansy rolling her eyes.
"The writing man is being here for you!"
"Thank you, we'll head downstairs now," Hermione replied with a nod, taking a breath and squaring her shoulders.
"Ps and Qs for an elf, only you." Pansy muttered and yelped at the stinging hex Hermione shot at her back.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hermione had never felt an inkling to AK someone, but the day the Prophet article dropped changed that entirely. Yet another knock sounded on the door, and the girl flung a tired hand towards it to see who was shooting their shot.
"Hello Hermione," a grinning Terry Boot greeted. "If I knew you worked so close to me, I'd have visited sooner."
Hermione bit down her comment that they'd spoken twice during their seven years at Hogwarts. "Hi Mr. Boot. May I help you with something?"
"Lunch, if you're offering."
"I was thinking more along the lines of a Ministry-related request, Mr. Boot."
"We can discuss work over lunch, if that gets you to sit across from me."
"Kindly," Hermione started through gritted teeth. "I'll ask you to leave."
"Dinner, then?"
Who knew Ravenclaws could be so bloody annoying?
"No. Leave."
The girl felt like she was in a Disney movie when Tom strode into the office in all of his glory.
"Everything all right, Miss Granger?" the man asked with assessing eyes.
"Quite. I was just asking Mr. Boot to leave."
"Yessir," the young man said with a squeak before turning tail and rushing back into the hallway.
"Thank you," Hermione groaned as the man shut the door behind him.
"What's going on?" Tom asked, annoyed that he couldn't readily see what was ailing his girl.
"The Prophet article came out this morning and every single male in this building has made it their mission to proposition me today."
Hermione was too busy wallowing in her own annoyance to see the tightness in Tom's expression.
"The wonders of male chauvinism never cease. I'll leave my door open in case anyone else decides to join the parade."
"Much appreciated. I'm much less liable to AK someone if there's a witness."
Tom laughed loudly. "Oh, my sweet. You won't have to lift your wand while you're with me. I have the torture and murder well in hand."
Hermione wouldn't tell anyone about the heat that flowed through her at the man's statement. She didn't quite understand it herself.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Hey 'Mione," Ron mumbled as he stepped onto the lift.
"Good evening, Ronald," she replied properly.
"Saw the article in the Prophet," he replied just as garbled. "Didn't realize you were so keen on being sold off."
"I'm not going to pretend I know what that means, Ronald," Hermione replied, ignoring the affronted gasp from the clearly eavesdropping cart witch who was the only other person on board.
"You basically put an ad in the Prophet saying you're available and have a good last name… now at least. Just didn't take you for the type."
"I don't owe you an explanation, but here's one. You didn't care about me until I was gone, Ronald. I floated alone for years, making do with secondhand books, clothes and not a penny to my name. Instead of offering to help connect me to get a job since your father is on the bloody Wizengamot, you came to watch me scrub tables and toilets."
Ron cut in, "You are rewriting history to act as though you aren't the most holier than thou chit I know! You would've accepted my da's help? As if!"
"You could've asked, Ronald!" Hermione shrieked, letting her short-fused temper get the best of her. "You expected me to mind after your schoolwork, make sure you woke up for class and ate three square meals… yet you never asked how I was. Not at school and surely not now."
"If you wanted to be babied then it's good we broke up," Ron snorted. "I thought you were self-sufficient."
"And I thought you had a better sense of self than to think you were great at taking care of yourself. Newsflash: you would've failed all of your exams if it wasn't for me!"
Hermione felt grateful for the beauty of the moment, the lift stopping in the lobby at that very moment. She strut out in her heels, knowing that Ron was shameless enough to watch her hips sway as she made her way to the Floo. What a creep.
"A little more hips and that would've been perfect, Granger," Blaise Zabini said from where he was leaning against a marble wall.
"Ugh, shut up." Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes at the guy she now considered to be her friend.
"You're not my type, but I can admire a girl walking away from her ex when I see it."
"Tall, handsome and equipped with a… Better luck elsewhere," Hermione replied with a smile, accepting the man's arm and stepping into the fireplace. She was surprised to see him hop in next to her.
"I take it you're coming to dinner?" she asked drily as they arrived at the Manor.
"Got it in one," Blaise replied, linking arms with her again as they walked down the hallway.
"My dear," Abraxas crooned as the pair walked in, pressing a kiss to Hermione's cheek. The girl hugged him for longer than she normally would've in front of a crowd, but she needed comfort after the shitty day she'd had.
"Papa," Hermione replied with a weak smile, willing herself to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall all day.
The man looked at her in concern after pushing in her seat and sitting back at the head of the table.
"So," Pansy started in, a devious smile on her face. She shook off her betrothed's hand from her shoulder. "How many marriage contracts came in today, Lord Malfoy?"
"Pansy!" Narcissa, Daphne and Luna admonished at the same time.
"If I didn't believe that you lot wouldn't rifle through my office, I'd say it's private. Unfortunately, I don't believe that. So seventy three."
"Seventy three!" Daphne crowed while shaking her head. "Hot damn, Granger."
"It's Malfoy," Hermione said with the roll of her eyes. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to talk about anything but the slovenly, slobbering boys who wrote in and walked in to sexually harass me all day."
Pansy let out a squeak, eyes focused behind Abraxas' head.
"I heard nothing about sexual harassment taking place in my office, Hermione." Tom's voice rang out icily.
Hermione had the decency to look down as she blushed. "Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but… it was a long day. I'd prefer not to talk about it and focus on eating."
"We'll discuss later," Tom replied, not allowing the girl the opportunity to get out of the conversation as he sat down to the only open seat at the table to the left of Abraxas. Directly across from Hermione, of course, so she'd have to catch his angry eyes throughout the meal. She prayed to the God she didn't believe in that it would only be five courses.
"Draco is joining daddy and I on a trip to establish communication with the Loch Ness monster," Luna offered in the stone cold silence of the room.
"The what?" Theo asked.
"I thought that was muggle folklore," Hermione replied.
"Oh no," Luna exclaimed while shaking her head, wavy blond hair moving around her face. "Nessie is quite real, she's just never come out to speak with anyone. She is quite empathic and can sense the fear that surrounds visitors. Daddy and I think we'll have a real chance at getting her to communicate."
"How fun," Narcissa beamed. "Your first trip as a couple, and you'll even be chaperoned. We're so proud of you, aren't we Lucius?"
"Quite proud," Lucius replied with a stiff smile. "The Malfoy properties are of course open for you if you're properly chaperoned."
Draco rolled his eyes at his father's blatant attempt of persuading them to take a Malfoy-approved trip.
"We're keen for a week at the German manor in the mountains," Draco offered. "Luna watched this muggle film that's taped out there."
"The Sound of Music!" Hermione piped up. "I'd love to go if you need a chaperone."
"Lovely," Luna replied. "I'm sure we might even see a yeti if we time it right!"
"I'm in," Hermione stated with a decisive nod.
"I forgot about that movie," Tom mused with a small smile. "Julie Andrews is a squib, you know."
Hermione gasped, "What? Absolutely no way."
"A muggle? That talented?" Tom asked with a raised brow.
"That's tosh, but I can't believe it! Who would've guessed."
"It's all in the eyes," Luna said, with a faraway look of her own. "She has the most magical look in her eyes… she's a lovely lady, a Lovegood some ways back in her family line."
"We're all related in some way, inbreeding is the name of the game," Blaise murmured. "Glad to do my part to buck the trend."
"Two men can have a baby if you try hard enough," Luna said. "Daddy can tell you all about it."
"I think I'm good for now," Blaise drawled.
"Gentleman, unfortunately we're closing in on our meeting and will have to hold on dessert. Ladies, if you'll excuse us," Abraxas directed as he stood up from the table.
"Meeting?" Hermione asked quietly, looking at the other women who didn't look surprised.
"Just a bit of a gentleman's club," Tom murmured as he stood up. "Be glad you don't have to partake."
Hermione let out an irritated noise the moment the door shut behind the men. "Why do I always feel like we're left out of everything as women?"
Narcissa let out a soft sigh. "Some things, darling, we're better off not knowing."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hermione couldn't help it. She was nosy by nature and had the awful desire to know everything about everything and everyone.
When she woke up to the sound of countless voices in the foyer? She couldn't not investigate.
She quickly threw on a dressing gown over her nightgown and ran to peek over the balcony, knowing full well that she looked much like a little girl waiting for Santa Claus.
She took note of everyone who walked out of the ballroom, grateful for her eidetic memory as a ridiculous amount of people seemed to be there. Why wasn't she invited? Or Narcissa, Pansy, Daphne and Luna for that matter?
As the trickle of people slowed, she tiptoed down the stairs and looked into the ballroom to see Abraxas, Tom and Corban Yaxley. The last man, the new head of DMLE, was covered in blood. Hermione couldn't help but gasp.
"Bugger," Yaxley muttered, much too quiet for Hermione to hear.
Tom spoke first. "Hermione, what are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same," she retorted, much quicker on the draw than she should've been. "Er, I mean… I heard voices. Now I see blood. What's going on?"
"Just a bloody nose, girl," Yaxley replied, quickly waving his wand over himself to remove the blood from his extremely expensive shirt. "Have to head out, early morning and all."
"Sure," Hermione replied slowly. What the hell was going on?
"Go back to bed, Hermione," Tom ordered with a tight jaw.
"Don't talk to me like I'm a child!"
"Abraxas, if you'll leave us."
The man gave a long look to Hermione before relenting.
"Goodnight, dearest," he whispered with a kiss to her cheek. The large room was full of tension as the double doors clicked shut.
"You won't talk back to me in front of others, Hermione."
"Then don't treat me like a child, Tom!"
The man strode two steps so he was directly in front of her, tilting her chin back with two fingers.
"I'm not treating you like a child, I'm treating you like everyone else."
"Maybe I don't want that!"
Tom's dark eyes turned predatory.
"Tell me what you want."
Hermione surged up onto her bare toes and pressed a kiss to Tom's warm lips, feeling as though she exemplified Gryffindor courage for the first time since the sorting hat was plopped on her head.
She didn't feel a spark as their lips met, but more of a fire consuming her. Tom's large hands cupped her arse, urging her to jump and wrap her legs around him. Which… she did, feeling much like a woman of the night. She'd ruminate on her actions later, content for now to just feel Tom's hands massaging her bum and his tongue trailing down the side of her neck.
"Tom," she whimpered, pushing her breasts into his chest for some sort of friction. Was this what sexual attraction felt like? Her scant kisses with Ronald Weasley felt like a wet mop in comparison.
"Hermione," the man moaned, taking the soft, sensitive skin of her neck between his teeth and biting down.
"You're distracting me," Hermione replied breathlessly. "Why wasn't I invited tonight?"
"It's… complicated," Tom replied, still pressing kisses to her neck before groaning. "Fucking stone age dressing gown, how am I supposed to get this off of you?"
"Just rip it, papa will buy more."
Tom let out a sigh, "The mood is officially killed. We must take this slow, Hermione. The implications of involvement with me, let alone your position in my office…"
"It's only a dangerous power-dynamic if I feel that I'll lose my job or tarnish my reputation by not being with you. I don't feel that way."
"Regardless, Hermione. Consent is a two-way street, and we will move down it slowly. Together."
"Of course," she replied, affronted. "Don't put me down, though. The ground is freezing."
Tom let out an incredulous laugh at the girl's change of subject and walked over to the plush, throne like chair he had been sitting in earlier and sat down.
"Much better," Hermione replied, knowing she had to be running on adrenaline at the moment to not be losing her mind. "Now, tell me what's going on."
"Oh, I'd say… A dash of insurgency and a pinch of a coup."
"Is this a recipe or an uprising?" she asked, voice shrill. "Are you overthrowing the government? How am I so stupid not to notice…"
"Don't let me hear you calling yourself stupid," Tom chastised, shaking a strong thigh under Hermione to get her attention. "If I wanted you to notice, you would've noticed. I need you to trust me."
"I trust you, Tom," Hermione replied with a serious gaze, righting herself so she was sat up straight on his lap. "Now… I need you to trust me."
Reviews give me fuel to keep writing. Please let me know what you think!