Full Summary: Published in 1862 by Lady Apollonia Nott, Courting Customs Most Sacred is the comprehensive text for any pureblood family seeking to arrange suitable matches for their children. It's also patently ridiculous and not at all appropriate for the modern era of dating. It is certainly not how one should woo Hermione Granger, at any rate.

Story Length: Two-shot, about 15,000 words total

Universe: Canon-compliant until epilogue, completely disregards epilogue.

Warnings: M for a reason, but some mild violence/description of attempted assault in beginning of Part 1.

Disclaimer: All characters from the Harry Potter universe belong to JK Rowling; no money is being made from this story.

"As the paragons of virtue and purity in magical society, it is the duty of our esteemed Pureblood families to secure suitable marital alliances for their heirs. While preservation of our notable magical lineages is of the utmost importance, one cannot devalue other attributes that distinguish the pureblood witch and wizard from others of more common blood. Herein I shall detail the proper traditions adhered to for centuries by our forebears; traditions that have afforded us our rightful place at the pinnacle of our world. The sacred customs and rituals observed as part of the courting process are undoubtedly renowned however, for posterity's sake, I have endeavored to record the appropriate steps in their entirety with the intention that all of our families of noble stock may benefit…"

-Introduction, page xx, Courting Customs Most Sacred, Apollonia Nott

Draco had just put his quill to the parchment when the sound of hurried footsteps entering his office and pausing before his desk distracted him.

"Malfoy I need your help," came the whispered, urgent plea from the witch standing before him.

Immediately abandoning his work in favor of a far more entertaining task, he smirked up at her.

"What can I do for you today, Granger?"

"Shh, lower your voice!"

Hermione sank into one of the two chairs in his small office and twisted her hands in her lap.

"You've got to save me from Pansy."

Draco chuckled wryly. "What's she done now?"

Hermione sighed. "Look, I know you're her best friend and—"

"Actually, Granger," he drawled. "I rather think you've usurped me in but a few months. According to Pansy, anyway."

She groaned and ran an anxious hand through her curls and sighed. "Merlin, I did not ask for this…"

Oh, but she had, thought Draco.

The strange new reality of Pansy Parkinson seeking the friendship of one Hermione Granger kicked off roughly 8 months prior.

Though Draco knew Pansy to often embellish her stories, he also knew that her description of Granger's heroics that fateful March afternoon to not be exaggerated. Well, maybe the part about Granger breathing fire ("I swear Draco, she was actually spitting flames at these men when she cursed them, like this fantastic, frizzy-haired, dragon!")

From Pansy's re-telling, and Hermione's reluctant corroboration, the debacle began at the Leaky Cauldron. Pansy had used the public Floo there for access to Diagon Alley, when she was heckled by a trio of drunkards. Holding her haughty head high, she strutted through the pub and onto the street as if she could not hear them.

But her troubles didn't end there. The three men saw fit to follow the witch and in broad daylight, trailed after her while spouting off all manner of slurs.

"Death eater whore!" was the most polite thing out of their mouths.

Pansy kept her composure even as not a single person on the street stopped to assist a petite, young woman being harassed by a group of much larger men. The public couldn't claim ignorance, the taunts were loudly and clearly following Pansy down the street as the men grew closer, grew bolder.

She tried to remain calm, but as the men's threats became more violent and overtly sexual, her eyes cast around for some sort of haven. She quickened her footsteps and heard her pursuers speed up as well. Desperately looking around, she was alarmed that the people around her merely stared on blankly as if this were normal, as if she deserved this.

As one of the men loudly proclaimed he'd like to practice some unforgiveable things with his wand inside her, if they caught his drift, she darted into an alley and took out her wand.

Distantly, behind the men, she thought she heard a shout of "Hey! Leave her alone!"

Shakily, she turned and prepared to face her assailants. But Pansy had never been a skilled dueler, and one of the leering men quickly disarmed her. Another one flicked his wand and she was stuck to the brick wall behind her. Again, she thought she might have heard an urgent voice screaming for help and yelling at the men, but perhaps it was inside her own terrified mind.

One of the men struck her across the face and she whimpered in pain. They jeered at her and one of them leaned in to lick the blood off the corner of her lip. She spit at him and he hit her again. Pansy saw stars as her head slammed back against the brick and she thought she might have a black eye now to go with her split lip.

"How dare you, you fucking traitor! We're gonna show you exactly where Death Eater scum like you belong… on your knees."

With that horrifying pronouncement, she was shoved down. Just as one of the men began to rip at the shoulder of her robes, the shouted voice came closer.

"I said, LEAVE HER THE BLOODY HELL ALONE!"

And in came Pansy's savior in the form of a furious Hermione Granger. In two flicks of her wand she'd subdued all three attackers. From their now immobilized and bound positions on the ground of the alley, they stared up at her, wide-eyed.

"How dare you… HOW DARE YOU?! I witnessed everything you did to this woman and rest assured, I will be personally making sure you are arrested and thrown into prison."

Trembling in rage, Hermione turned to the battered and shaken form of Pansy. "Pansy, are you all right? We should get you to the hospital," she said in a soft voice.

But Pansy's pride was wounded at having been rescued in such a manner, by filth no less, that she instantly recoiled from Hermione.

"I don't need help from the likes of you!" she sneered. "Leave me alone, Mudblood!"

Hermione sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples.

"Parkinson. Listen to me. We're not friends, I understand, I do, and I know you hate me for the inane reason of my circumstance of birth. But let me help you today and we can go our separate ways and never speak of this again. Now," Hermione stood and glared down at the captured men.

"I'm going to send a Patronus to Harry, then I'm taking you to St. Mungo's. Once you're cleaned up, you are going to give a formal statement to the Auror office and press charges against these men. But first, I'm going to address the lovely group of bystanders at the end of this public alley," she said briskly.

Sweeping her hair back, she squared her shoulders and stalked towards the crowd that had assembled to watch the ruckus.

"All of you should be absolutely ASHAMED of yourselves!" she shrieked. "We did not win a war for blood prejudice to keep poisoning our society this way! How could you all just stand by while this young woman was harassed, beaten, and almost sexually assaulted? This behavior is reprehensible and I hope everyone here who decided apathy was the best course of action never has to know what it feels like to be attacked in this disturbing manner. This disgusting lack of caring for our fellow witches and wizards is EXACTLY how Voldemort was able to come to power! This was UNCONSCIONABLE!"

It was the shock of being defended so fiercely by someone who Pansy had done her damndest to make feel inferior for her entire childhood that spurred the tears. Pansy had walked past purebloods, half-bloods, mothers, fathers, people old and young and none of them, not one, had tried to help her, save for proud muggleborn Hermione Granger.

Seething with rage, Hermione spun around and Pansy recoiled slightly as she stalked back over to her. She could only look into the face of her former bullying victim in stupefied awe through streaming eyes.

"Let's go," Hermione ordered gently.

Pansy allowed Hermione to apparate her to St. Mungo's. She let her help her with the admittance paperwork. Hermione stood by Pansy's side while the Healer checked her over and healed her external wounds. She helped Pansy with the discharge paperwork. Before Pansy could protest, they'd Flooed into the Ministry together. Finally, Pansy found her voice again.

"Granger, wait, just wait a minute," she said tiredly, tugging on the other woman's sleeve.

"I can't… I can't do this."

"'Course you can," Hermione replied assertively. "You're going to press charges for physical assault and attempted sexual assault. Harry already has the full names of your attackers."

Pansy shook her head sadly. "No, Granger, I can't. I don't want to… look, you're a mud—a muggleborn, you wouldn't understand. If this gets out in the press or if there's a public trial, my prospects will be ruined. No suitor will want to associate with me if they think I may be… tainted."

Hermione sucked in a harsh breath and drew herself up to her full height. Pansy swore to this day that the ends of her ridiculous hair crackled with magic in this moment.

"I don't give one bloody flying fig about your arcane, inbred, pureblood traditions! Those men were going to do unspeakable things to you, in broad daylight no less, and you want to let them walk away? Parkinson, look at me!"

Pansy's tear-filled gaze met Hermione's blazing one. "You were, quite honestly, an awful person at school. While you may have tormented me and my friends, no one could deny that you were tough. Draw on that toughness now, because if you don't, you're letting these men walk free to do this to another defenseless woman. Is that what you want?"

Pansy could only shake her head.

"Good, let's go see Harry."

Pansy let herself be led through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement by Hermione's hand all the way to Harry Potter's office. Harry was nothing but professional and polite as he took Pansy's official statement. Hermione held her hand the entire time. Pansy only let go at the conclusion of the interview to shake Harry's hand.

As Hermione steered her to the exit, Pansy's emotions were a jumbled mess. She suddenly felt her limbs shaking and dropped into a nearby chair. Hermione handed her a glass of water and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Is there someone I can Floo for you?"

Pansy shook her head. "I'll be fine in a minute. I live with my mother, and I can have one of the elves see to me."

"Perhaps a friend of yours I can notify?"

Pansy wracked her brain for someone she could depend on. Most of the women in her circle would regard her in muted horror, her mother included. The men in her life would be useless too except… perhaps… well perhaps he would talk to her. After all, Draco had also had a pretty rough go of it after the war, but seemed to be doing all right for himself these days.

"You work with Draco, don't you?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Sometimes. We're on the same floor."

"Take me to his office?"

Draco remembered a pale-faced Pansy rushing through his office door, a concerned looking Hermione two steps behind. She burrowed into Draco's arms, and as he took in her bruised face he urgently asked just what the hell had happened to her. Pansy pulled away from her bone-crushing hug to smile widely.

"She happened!" she pointed excitedly at a slack-jawed Hermione. "Granger happened! Oh, Draco, she was magnificent!"

Thus began Pansy Parkinson's newfound fondness and loyalty to Hermione Granger.

Thus began Draco Malfoy's newfound romantic feelings for Hermione Granger.

He'd been consoling Pansy while she prattled on and on and on about how amazing and wonderful and fierce Granger was but all he could do was nod mutely.

He already had a cordial and friendly working relationship with Granger, and of course she was an aesthetically pleasing witch, but this act of compassion towards Pansy tipped Draco right over the edge.

He himself had experienced first-hand the depths of Granger's compassion, when after just one week of working down the hall from her and studiously avoiding her gaze every time they'd crossed paths, he found himself walking to her office. He'd offered a stilted apology for his past behavior, unable to look her in the eye, but she'd accepted it graciously nonetheless. Thereafter, she suddenly began working on more joint projects with him, or dropping by his office to pick his brain on a suspected Dark artifact. Over the years, they'd grown much more comfortable in one another's company, often working late nights when a case required, Granger only sneaking away to bring back Muggle takeaway to share.

When Pansy left Draco's office, she leapt on Granger, giving the shocked witch a tight hug and promised to owl her the next day. Hermione stood stunned and for a rare moment of her life, was at a total loss for words as Pansy flounced out of the Ministry.

"What just happened?" asked Hermione.

"Welcome to Pansy's circle of friends," he replied dryly.

Hermione had rolled her eyes and left his office, leaving Draco to chuckle to himself. That little bookworm had no idea what she was in for.

Pansy steamrolled her way into Hermione's life, set up shop, and acted as if she'd been lifelong friends with the woman.

She owled Hermione constantly, dropped by the Ministry unannounced to treat her to lunch, sent extravagant gifts to her home, kidnapped her one memorable afternoon to buy her a whole new wardrobe, and invited her to every event on Pansy's social calendar. Said events included high-society soirees hosted by elite pureblood families: charity auctions, galas, balls, garden parties, high-teas, and the like.

And woe betide anyone who dared condescend to Hermione Granger when she was in the presence of Pansy Parkinson.

"Do you know who this witch is?" she'd thundered at one memorable event. Draco suppressed a laugh as he thought back on the memory of the snooty pureblood heiress who had dared to insult Hermione's heritage that evening.

"This witch not only helped defeat the Dark Lord, but she rescued me from certain ruin, so you can take your opinion of her and shove it straight up your arse along with that horrid faux-diamond choker around your emu-like, wrinkled neck!"

Both Hermione and Draco had needed to physically restrain Pansy from cursing the woman, who'd fled from the ballroom in tears.

Hermione, while grateful for and amused by Pansy's sudden change of heart, was more often than not on the verge of exasperation with her new friend.

It was now commonplace for Draco to glance up around lunchtime and see Pansy tugging Hermione along behind her, Hermione's pleading eyes would catch Draco's as she was rushed past, begging for help, but Draco would only smirk and give a cheery wave in response.

Pansy proclaimed Hermione her sister.

"Well, see Draco, I have no siblings, Hermione has no siblings, but we have a life-bond now so that makes us sisters! You wouldn't possibly understand."

"I'm an only child too, Pansy." She waved his statement away.

Pansy proclaimed Hermione her newest project.

"Granger, no offense, but seriously, I know what your salary is and you have far too much money to be dressing the way that you do. We're getting you new robes this weekend."

"Granger, you've got so much hair to work with, have you been using the products I sent you?"

"It's called a Cushioning Charm, Granger, I know you know how to cast one. I don't want to hear any more excuses for why you can't shove those dainty little feet of yours into these gorgeous 6-inch heels."

"Granger, if you really want to make an impact with this house-elf legislation nonsense, then these are the pureblood wives you need to be acquainting yourself with. Don't worry, I'll come with you, I actually have a decent amount of dirt on Lady Fawley…"

Pansy proclaimed Hermione her role model.

"Draco, have you ever seen Granger cast a Patronus? It's positively flawless, I'm having her teach me this weekend."

"Draco, do you know how many hours Granger puts into this stupid job at the Ministry?"

"Yes, Pansy, I'm in the same department, we—"

"She works too much, I'm always telling her that, but you know it got me thinking that maybe I should finish my education? I can't laze about my mother's manor forever, and Granger's been really inspiring me lately to better myself, you know? Women in our society get quite the raw deal, Granger's always saying, and I think if I applied myself more I could really do something with my life!"

"…and Granger's right, you know, why do women need to marry? Honestly, witches get nary a benefit in those pureblood marriage contracts that I think I'll just take some time to be single and figure out what I'd like to do with my career. My mother almost hexed me when I told her all this, of course, but I've explained to her what Granger said, that we don't need men to prove our worth, that our standing in society should be based on our own skills and talents, not what we can offer the men in our lives."

"Granger, I think it's so admirable that you've been single this long, I think I'll take a leaf out of your book!"

And now Granger was in Draco's office, hiding from Pansy's newest crusade into her life.

"Merlin, I did not ask for this…"

Draco leaned back in his chair and smirked at her. "Did she send your CV to the Minister for a promotion to the head of the DMLE like she threatened to?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Oh for the love of… no, not yet anyway! No, if you can believe it, this is far more embarrassing."

"And you're whispering all this in my office because…?"

"Because I had my contact at the security check-in desk start notifying me whenever she enters the building."

"About time."

"And she's on her way up here now with a list of eligible bachelors for me to peruse."

Draco's stomach dropped to the floor.

"Come again?"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. "Pansy has made it her newest mission in life to set me up with, and I quote, 'the perfect man to treat me like the goddess I am.'"

"I see," he said tonelessly. "How did she happen to come under the impression that you were in need of her assistance in this area?"

Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. "I well, I… I honestly was only trying to get her to quit spouting off about what a wonderful, accomplished spinster I am. She kept going on and on about how I've made such wonderful strides in my career and how I'm clearly so happy without male attention in my life and on and on until I sort of… snapped and told her that just because I'm satisfied with my life and work does not mean I've simply given up looking for a romantic partner. Apparently, Pansy took that to mean I've given her free reign over my love life and is now determined to set me up with someone worthy."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked beseechingly to Draco. "So you'll help me?"

He perked up at her plea. "How can I help here?"

"Take some of the heat off me! Distract her with a gala or something, I don't know, just get her off my back about this!"

"Now why would I want to do that, Granger? No, I think your predicament suits me just fine. If Pansy is all wrapped up in fixing your love life, it means she'll finally stay the bloody hell out of mine."

Hermione's jaw fell open in indignation. "But—but—seriously Malfoy?"

"As an Imperius curse. Look Granger, you've been friends with her for a matter of months, I've had to put up with years of her meddling. Frankly, I'd like a little break from her romantic machinations. Then I'll be down to just one pureblood heiress harping on about me finding a wife."

"I thought things were better with your mother since you'd moved out of the Manor?"

"Oh they are, but if you think that's going to stop Lady Malfoy from butting her nose into my social life, then you've severely underestimated her. Do you know what she said to me last week? She said, and I quote, 'I did not lie to the Dark Lord to save you so that you could throw away your life as a lonely, lowly, Ministry worker!'"

"She didn't!" Hermione gasped.

"I assure you, she did, and all because I said I didn't want to ask Astoria Greengrass to accompany me to the Christmas gala. Can you believe that? She actually pulled the 'I lied to You-Know-Who's face for you' card!"

Hermione giggled. "That's quite the trump card, I have to admit. Well played, Narcissa."

Draco huffed. "Yes well, she should use it a bit less if she wants it to still have an impact on me. Her other favorite to throw out is 'with your father gone, it's high time you assumed your rightful place as head of this family!'"

"I thought your mother was proud of the work you do here?"

"She is," Draco conceded. "I think this was her way of yet again reminding me that I'm still single and without an heir at the ripe old age of 25."

"Hmm, yes, I was just going to say you're looking a little long in the tooth lately," she jested. Suddenly, her demeanor turned serious. "Malfoy," she pointed towards his forehead. "Is that a gray hair?"

Instantly his hands were in his platinum locks. "What? Where?" he sputtered and just as he was about to frantically transfigure his ink pot into a mirror, he caught Hermione with her hands over her mouth to hide her mirth.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny, witch," he said sarcastically, but when Hermione finally did succumb to her laughter he found himself reluctantly joining in with her.

"Yes, isn't she just?" trilled a new voice from the doorway and Draco's head snapped up to see Pansy leaning casually against the doorframe.

Pansy's eyes flicked between Draco and Hermione and a devious grin split her face wide.

As Draco saw the wheels turning behind Pansy's eyes, he felt the color drain from his face. How long had Pansy been standing there, observing his conversation with Hermione? She looked far too amused and relaxed to have only now stumbled upon them in Draco's office. He knew what that mischievous look meant and he needed to put a stop to this situation before Pansy took it too far.

"Oh, uh, hi Pansy! I didn't realize you were stopping by today," Hermione flushed as she pushed out the lie. "Did you need something? It's a bit early for lunch."

"No, please, don't let me interrupt such a fruitful discussion between two, uh, colleagues," she said smoothly. Draco narrowed his eyes at her behind Hermione's back.

"What do you have there, Pansy?" Hermione asked, apprehensively eyeing the length of parchment in the other witch's hand.

"Oh this? A silly little list but you know," her eyes gleamed and flicked in Draco's direction, "I don't think it's necessary any longer."

Pansy tore the parchment in two and smiled sweetly at Hermione. "I was only stopping by to say hello," a statement Draco knew to be false. "I'm on my way up to visit Potter and drop off a tin of biscuits I made yesterday. He said his wife absolutely devoured the last batch I sent so I thought I'd whip up something else for her. I'll owl you later, Hermione. See you, Draco."

And with a triumphant last look that sent a chill down Draco's spine, she sauntered off.

"Pansy is baking now?" asked Draco, incredulously.

"In a manner of speaking. She makes Hagrid look like a world-class chef."

"I never had the pleasure of sampling his culinary talents."

"Lucky you."

As the conversation came to a natural end, Draco found himself trading shy smiles with the witch across from him. Was it just him, or did she seem hesitant to leave?

"Right, well, I'd better get back to it now that I find myself with a Pansy-free day. Let me know if that report on the cursed vase comes back, would you?"

"I know where to find you."

With another small smile, Hermione left to return to her own office, just down the hall in the research division of the DMLE.

As soon as she was out of sight, Draco's smile dropped and he threw himself back into his work, praying to every deity known to man that Pansy wasn't plotting what he suspected she was plotting.

"…most proper for interested parties to seek an invitation to a private tea or luncheon from the mother of the intended wizard. This allows the matriarch of the household to properly assess the character of the interested witch as well as observe her table manners, conversational skills, and her adherence to decorum. For mothers actively seeking matches on behalf of their sons, they may personally extend an invitation for such a private audience before being contacted by the witch's parents…"

-Chapter 2, page 16, Courting Customs Most Sacred, Apollonia Nott

Draco carefully levitated the faux-Ming dynasty vase from his desk. It hovered in the air, allowing Draco to peruse it from all sides while it rested safely encased in a clear, protective sphere. Etched just along the bottom, Draco was able to make out a line of runes, and though they looked rather harmless, it was best to be safe rather than sorry. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to convince wealthy Muggle buyers that this vase was the real deal, which meant those runes held the key.

Of course, Draco had taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, and this line of symbols wouldn't be too difficult to decipher. However…

There was a certain witch just down the hall who not only could decipher these quicker than he ever could, but who had also proclaimed herself eager to work on this artifact with him.

Fine, it was a flimsy excuse to spend time with Hermione.

"Granger, thought you might want to take first crack at the runes here," Draco announced as he levitated the vase into her office.

"Oh! Hi Malfoy!" Hermione looked up from a sheaf of stationary to beam at him. "Excellent, just let me finish this letter."

She rounded off her last line, signed and sealed her missive.

"Writing to Pansy to tell her she cannot, under any circumstance, redecorate your flat again?" Draco guessed.

"No, actually, it's a thank you note to your mother!"

Draco dropped his wand in shock and but for the magical sphere protecting the delicate vase, would have shattered all the evidence he'd brought for Hermione. Luckily, the sphere held, allowing the artifact to come to a gentle rest on the floor instead of crashing into a million pieces.

"I beg your pardon?"

Hermione gave him a strange look. "Yes. I was writing to thank her for the lovely afternoon we had over tea this past weekend. She didn't tell you?"

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"My mother had you for tea?'

"Yes."

"At the Manor? She made you come to the Manor?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Merlin, no. We met at the Porcelain Kettle off Diagon Alley. She had a private room set up for us. It was quite lovely."

"My mother, Narcissa Malfoy, treated you to tea and she was… cordial?"

Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. "Merlin, are you deaf? Yes, your mother invited me out for tea, I accepted, we met in a private parlor and whiled away a rather pleasant afternoon with some light and stimulating conversation. Is my interrogation over yet, sir?"

Draco's throat bobbed at the way she called him "sir" at the end of her tirade, even if it had been riddled with sarcasm.

"And what did you two even talk about?"

Hermione huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "Not that it's any of your business, Malfoy, but she began with a lovely apology for the way I'd been treated by her family in the past and was hopeful I might look past our less than pleasant history so that we may become better acquainted."

"My mother apologized?"

"Yes."

"To you?"

"Yes! What the bloody hell—?"

"And said she wanted to become better acquainted with you?"

"YES NOW WOULD YOU KINDLY STOP—?"

"Why would she want that?"

The look Hermione gave him bordered on murderous.

"Gee, I don't know, Malfoy, but I like to think I am worthy of getting to know, despite what you may think of me," she said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Whoa, whoa, Granger, that's not what I meant!" he replied hastily. "Look, it just surprised me is all, my mother is generally a very private person. I wasn't trying to slight you, not at all," he pleaded.

Hermione softened at that, seeming slightly mollified at his clarification.

"Yes, well, as I said, she was quite pleasant and expressed interest in signing on as a benefactor to a few of the causes I support. We spent most of the afternoon discussing my passion projects outside of work."

Draco breathed out a sigh of relief. It was nothing, his mother just wanted to expand her reach as a philanthropist and Hermione was the ideal candidate to seek out in order to secure that goal. Still, even as Draco moved on to discuss the possible dark artifact he'd brought to her office, he couldn't shake the niggling feeling that his mother had an ulterior motive.

"…luncheon with the intended groom's mother and her associates should occur before any betrothal contract is issued or even discussed. A young bride is only worthy of her future husband if she can prove to be adept at navigating social situations and forming advantageous relationships. It would behoove the mother of the intended groom to ensure a collection of notable ladies make the acquaintance of the intended bride…"
-Chapter 2, page 22, Courting Customs Most Sacred, Apollonia Nott

A light knock on his doorframe alerted Draco to Hermione's presence after lunch the following Monday.

"Hi Malfoy, I have that rune translation for you. Looks like our culprit is merely a prankster as opposed to a dark wizard. The symbols spelled out a rather rude message, but there's nothing to indicate the vase is cursed beyond an admittedly clever replication charm that mimics a true Ming vase. You can kick this one back to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Draco accepted the report from Hermione and his stomach flipped when their fingertips brushed.

"Right, well, umm, thanks Granger," he said tightly.

"You're welcome," she replied stiffly. She hovered awkwardly in his doorway and Draco politely waited for her to say what she was clearly bursting to say.

"I umm, had lunch again with your mother this weekend."

Draco was more composed this time and held back the exclamation of surprise that threatened to bubble past his lips.

"Oh? Did you take tea again?" Draco commended himself for sounding coolly interested instead of suspicious.

"No, she hosted a ladies' luncheon and invited me to join her regular social circle in the garden room at the Flitterbloom & Folly Hotel."

Draco's eyes narrowed at this revelation. Narcissa Malfoy's luncheons were notorious among pureblood women. Even Pansy had never been invited to one and had whined to Draco on more than one occasion that she'd give her wand arm to attend just one of these exclusive events.

"Did she now?"

"Yes, and I'll admit I was a touch nervous, especially attending one of these events without Pansy, but it turned out to be rather lovely. Your mother is quite the social butterfly and kept prodding me to bring up certain causes I affiliate with. I hope I didn't intrude on her time with her friends and completely monopolize the conversations, but your mother was rather insistent that I talk up my personal interests," she admitted with a slight blush.

"Anyway, thanks to her, I've got several letters to write to new contacts during my lunch hour. See you later!"

Draco stared after her as she took her leave, willing himself not to think the worst of his mother's machinations.

"…while bouquets are also acceptable in lieu of larger arrangements. The procurement and gifting of a witch's favorite flower by a wizard indicates he has the approval of his parents to pursue the witch's hand. Acceptance of said flowers on the part of the witch indicates that she, and by extension her family, is in favor of the suit…"
-Chapter 3, page 51, Courting Customs Most Sacred, Apollonia Nott

When confronted yesterday, Narcissa claimed ignorance to Draco's suspicions and insisted that her relationship with Hermione Granger was nothing more than a mutually beneficial way to both secure the young witch funding for her extracurricular projects and at the same time keep the Malfoy name in society's good graces.

Draco sighed and hoped that's all there was to it. Pansy, on the other hand, had been much too quiet this week, and he'd not seen her hovering around Hermione's office. He didn't know whether to be relieved or worried.

"Draco! I need your help with something, quickly please!"

Speak of the devil and the devil appears…

Pansy's head appeared around his doorway, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. Draco got up and followed her out of his office as she took off. He froze when he found her standing alone in Hermione's empty office.

"Uhh Pansy? Why are we in Granger's office?"

"Hush and stand over here."

She grabbed Draco by the shoulders and pushed him until he was standing with his back to Hermione's desk. She increased the pressure on him until he sank into a sort of half-sitting position on the edge of it.

"Great, stay just like that," Pansy ordered then grabbed something from behind him.

"Hold these," she bossed, and Draco found a large bouquet of ludicrously bright purple violets shoved into his hands.

"Pansy, what the—?"

"Quiet and do as I say. Now," she reached up to his hairline and he jerked back from her hand, but she remained undeterred.

"The fuck, Pansy?"

She ignored his protests and proceeded to lightly ruffle his hair, combing it with her fingers so it fell slightly to one side.

"If you're quite through manhandling me, can you—?"

Pansy held up an impatient hand to silence him and stepped back and regarded him thoughtfully for a minute.

"Perfect. Now, don't move or I'll hex you and remember, I never ask you for anything so please do me this favor and do. Not. Move."

With a final warning glare from Pansy, Draco was left in his peculiar position by himself in Hermione's office, clutching the flowers.

Draco counted maybe 20 seconds before a pair of voices approached and he began to panic.

"…why you couldn't simply owl me all this Pansy, I really don't see the need for you to keep coming to me at work when I—oh!"

Hermione entered her office, Pansy hot on her heels, and found Draco exactly in the same position he'd been left in by Pansy: leaning casually against her desk holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

He had no bloody idea. Not one sodding clue.

"I uhhh… I…"

"Oh my goodness, Draco, you brought flowers for Hermione!?" Pansy exclaimed.

Draco opened his mouth to deny it, but at the stunned yet hopeful look on the face of his beautiful coworker (coupled with the fervent nodding of Pansy's head behind Hermione's back), the denial died on his lips.

"Did—did you really bring those for me?" Hermione asked softly as a pink blush crept up her pretty face. Pansy kept up her rabid, wide-eyed nodding from behind her and Draco handed Hermione the violets.

"Uh, here you go."

"Thank you… they're beautiful. Violets are my favorite, how did you know?" She was gazing up at him with that open, earnest expression of hope again and it nearly split Draco in two. Pansy began pointing silently and frantically at herself.

"Oh uh… Pansy. Pansy told me."

Hermione turned to smile at her friend, who immediately fixed her face into the perfect picture of innocence. Draco narrowed his eyes at Pansy.

"Well isn't this just lovely! Draco found out your preferred flower, presented you with a bouquet and you accepted. Marvelous!"

Draco was going to throttle one of his oldest friends. He'd turn himself right in too, save Potter some investigative time and paperwork.

Hermione beamed up at him. "Thank you, again, this was such a wonderful surprise. Would you, umm, by chance be free for lunch today? We could—?

"Sorry, Granger, perhaps another time. Pansy, a word?"

Without waiting for a reply, Draco swept past Hermione and grabbed Pansy tightly by the upper arm. He practically threw her bodily into his office, slammed the door shut, then warded and silenced the space.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" he exploded at her.

Pansy scoffed, completely unperturbed by his outburst, and inspected her nails. "Relax, Draco, I'm just giving you a prod in the right direction. You could thank me, you know."

"Thank you? THANK YOU!? Why the hell would I thank you for embarrassing me like that in front of Granger?" he thundered.

"Oh quit being dramatic," she snapped back. "So I made it look like you thoughtfully picked out her favorite flower, big deal. She was obviously very receptive to the gesture."

"Stay out of my personal affairs, Pansy, I mean it," Draco warned.

"Fine," she said, before yanking open the door and stalking out. Draco slammed the door again behind her and resisted the urge to bang his head against the solid wood.

"…most proper to debut an intended match at a familial ball. The event may be hosted by either the witch or wizard's family, but must take place in the ancestral home…"
-Chapter 4, page 87, Courting Customs Most Sacred, Apollonia Nott

"Hi Malfoy. Bad time?"

Draco looked up from his report on a cursed quill bewitched to make the writer unwittingly divulge all of their private financial information to see Hermione hovering in his doorway.

"Not at all," he replied, thinking to himself that he had all the time in the world for Hermione. "Did you need something?"

She held up a piece of thick, cream-colored cardstock that was unfortunately familiar to Draco. "You're mother invited me to the Christmas ball being held at your family home."

"She did?"

"Yes, and I was… well, it's silly really, but I initially declined her invitation but then she dropped by my home to personally hand me another one and insisted I attend."

Draco didn't know which part of that sentence shocked him most.

"Why did you decline? If you have a conflicting engagement that evening, don't feel pressured by my mother to upend your own plans."

"It's not that," Hermione said hurriedly. "It's just… you know, the ball is being held at Malfoy Manor and I… wasn't sure I'd feel comfortable returning…" she trailed off awkwardly and stared at the floor.

The shame bubbling in his gut made him want to throw up all over his desk. "Granger, on behalf of my mother, I am so sorry. She had no right to make you feel guilty about returning to the scene of… of that night," he responded quietly.

"I really would love to attend, though, if only to pay her back for her kindness in initiating key contacts for my charity work, but—"

"Granger, you owe my mother absolutely nothing. Hell, my family, and the whole of the wizarding world honestly, owes you quite the debt."

Hermione's cheeks went scarlet at his praise. "That's very kind of you to say."

"It's the truth."

He stared into her eyes for a beat longer than was socially acceptable for a professional environment.

"Well, anyway, I told your mother I was quite keen to attend, just that I was a bit anxious and she umm… suggested something that might help make the event more enjoyable for me." She paused here to take a deep breath, seeming nervous. "She thought that if I had a date, or not really a date per se, more of an escort… oh gods, that sounds even worse…I mean," she took another breath to collect herself. "Your mother had the idea that if I had someone to accompany me for the evening then I would be able to enjoy myself. When I informed her that I'm not currently seeing anyone she said that…" Another gulp of air, but Draco could already tell how this sentence was going to end, "that you would be more than willing to take up that pleasant task."

If Draco wasn't so appalled at his mother's absolute lack of scruples in cornering him into this awful position, he'd tip his hat to the woman. This was a masterstroke of emotional manipulation.

"My mother," he repeated slowly. "Told you that I would accompany you to the ball?"

Hermione looked mortified. "Only if you wanted to!" she squeaked. "I didn't mean to presume… oh Merlin's beard, this was a terrible idea, I'm sorry Malfoy, of course you wouldn't want to take me as your date—"

"I never said that."

"Oh. But you probably already have someone you're taking or thinking of taking and even though your mother said you didn't, I shouldn't have assumed you'd be all right with—"

"I don't have a date to the ball."

"Oh. In that case… would you mind terribly if we went together?"

He really wanted to tell her this was a horrible idea. He wanted to tell her they'd both been duped and had played right into his mother's (and probably also Pansy's) well-manicured hands. He wanted to tell her that he's been besotted with her for months now, and this isn't at all how he would have gone about wooing her. He wanted to tell her that she was far too good for the likes of him, and he in no way deserved to have her on his arm at his family's Christmas ball.

But his selfish nature won out, as it usually did, and he replied with a tight smile and a, "I don't mind at all, Granger."

A/N: Part 2/2 will be posted in the next few days. Thanks for reading!