There was no snow, but her breath came in puffs of white as she followed her mother up the street. Beside her, Draco gawked at the Muggles who passed them.
"Do you think they can tell that we're not Muggles?' He whispered.
She looked at their strange clothing, and then looked down at theirs. She was wearing her new red silk cloak, and he was similarly dressed in black. "Possibly," she said, feeling unsure. "But maybe they just think we're embracing the Christmas spirit."
Behind her, her father made a noise that was half scoff, half laugh. He was not happy to be in a Muggle village. Earlier he had tried to stay home, but Narcissa threatened to cast the Imperius curse on him. After that he dutifully donned his fourth best dress robe (we mustn't make them feel bad for not having as much money as us, Narcissa explained), carried the sack with the presents, and promised not to say anything rude to Mr. Tonks.
"This is the one," said their mother, stopping at a front gate. There was a large wreath on it, tied with a shiny silver ribbon. "Deep breaths now," she forced a smile that looked painful, and Hermione instantly felt sorry for her.
She had been surprised when her mother confirmed that they had been invited to Christmas dinner at her estranged aunt's home. She had been even more surprised when Narcissa insisted that they go.
The house was small. She was certain that Malfoy Manor was at least ten times the size of the little green house that sat before her. It was pretty enough, though. Several hardy herbs still flourished in the garden, in spite of the chill. A white cat sat in the front window, sleeping in the winter sunlight. It looked up at them as they crowded in front of the door, and Hermione offered it a small smile.
At Narcissa's knock, a cheerful-looking man opened the door. "Happy Christmas!" he roared, ushering the three Malfoys inside. "You're right on time! Dromeda is nearly done with dinner. Can I take your cloaks?"
A muggleborn home. Hermione's eyes scanned the walls, taking everything in. It looked like any other home, she supposed. Not as nice as hers, she decided, but that was understandable. There was a stairwell to her left, and the wall above it was full of family portraits. She noted that some of the pictures were frozen, as if their inhabitants had been pertrified. To her left was a small sitting room, full of comfotable-looking furniture and a strange black box. It was much cleaner than she expected. Everything was tidy, though she doubted that they could afford a house elf.
Her attention was pulled away as the man reached to take her cloak.
He was a slim, tall man with warm brown eyes, thick gray hair, and an easy-going laugh. He was dressed in muggle clothes, jeans and a buttoned shirt. A purple bow tie was at his throat. He beamed at them, hanging their cloaks on hooks by the door. "I'm Ted, by the way. It's very nice to meet you all."
One by one, he shook hands with each of them (though for a moment it seemed like her father would refuse) then pushed his wire-rimmed spectacles up his nose. "Would you like something to drink?'
Steaming mugs of hot-buttered rum was fetched for each of them, and they were ushered into a warm kitchen.
A woman, who Hermione suspected to be Andromeda, stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot.
"Hello," she said in a rich voice, "You must be Draco and Hermione." Like her husband, she shook hands with them, and smiled down at them. "I'm very glad you've come." Her eyes hardened a bit when they landed on Lucius, though she gave him a tight nod, which he returned.
Something about her was familiar, and it took Hermione a moment to realize that she sounded exactly like Bellatrix did when she spoke. Except softer, somehow. Gentler.
"Ted, would you finish the potatoes, please?"
Having never actually seen anyone cook their own food, Hermione's eyes watched with interest as the man pulled a strange instrument from a drawer, and began pounding it into a bowl.
"Cool!" chimed Draco, apparently thinking the same thing. "Can I try?"
"Of course!" The man moved over so that Draco could join him at the stove, and began explaining to him, "All you need to do is mash the potatoes until they're smooth…"
Hermione exchanged a glance with her mother, who smiled back at her.
"I'm here!" cried a voice from the front door, startling Hermione.
Tonks strode into the kitchen, to the great delight of her parents. Today her hair was a mess of red and green curls. She had flashing silver eyes, and a wide grin. Hermione moved closer to her mother as Andromeda and Ted stormed to envelop the young woman in their arms.
"I hope my sister is a better cook than she was as a girl," whispered Narcissa, "otherwise we'll all be horrifically ill!"
"I heard that!"
Luckily for them all, the food was delicious. A few minutes after Tonks arrived they all piled into the small dining room. Hermione say between her father and Draco, and breathed in deeply as the food was loaded onto the table. Andromeda had prepared a roast goose, green beans, brussel sprouts, rosemary dinner rolls, mashed potatoes with gravy, baked brie, and Hermione's favorite- dinner rolls that were filled with melted gruyere.
Hermione watched Andromeda throughout the meal as she recounted all of her childhood misadventures with Narcissa. Her voice was soothing, and Hermione felt a stab of embarrassment as she found herself hanging on to every word.
I wouldn't feel this way if you'd actually speak to me, she thought irritably.
Nothing but silence.
Still, Andromeda was good at putting the Malfoys at ease. Or, most of them, as Lucius ate little and remained silent throughout the dinner. Andromeda ignored him completely, a grinned warmly, asking about their interests, and recounting numerous stories about a younger Narcissa.
"Narcissa used to insist that everyone call her Princess Cissy!" Laughed Andromeda a couple hours later as she sliced an enormous chocolate cake.
Her mother giggled, clutching her fifth glass of champagne to her chest. "I was three Andie!"
"You were six, and you insisted that Mother find a tiara that properly suited you."
"Do you still have it?" gasped Tonks, knocking her glass over as she leaned forward.
A flash of light shot from Andromeda's wand, pushing the glass back into place before anything could spill from it.
"Yes! It's in my vault at Gringotts."
"She would-" Andromeda broke off, laughing as she remembered something. "She would go about asking random men to dance with her, and after each one she would ask if they wanted to marry her. Mother was scandalized."
Hermione and Draco exchanged delighted looks. Their mother had never been one to share stories, nor had they ever seen her become so… giggly. She looked years younger.
"She put a stop to that soon enough. Remember that she threatened to actually betroth you to the next one you asked?"
"Yes! And it worked too. That's when I decided that the next man I proposed to would be my husband." She grinned over at Lucius, who gave a grim smile in return.
"As I recall, I did the proposing."
She winked (to Hermione and Draco's further amusement) and whispered loudly, "Only because I let you."
"Dromeda proposed to me," chimed Ted, reaching fill Draco's glass with pumpkin juice. "On the grounds of Hogwarts. Obviously I said yes," he tilted a forkful of cake towards Lucius, "You can never say 'no' to a Black, eh Lucius?"
Something akin to a smile twitched across Lucius' mouth, but his eyes were annoyed, "Indeed."
Hermione nudged her father with her elbow, and he nudged her back.
"Were your parents alright with you marrying a witch?" asked Draco.
Ted smiled, "It was just my dad, but yes. He was very fond of Dromeda. Still is, in fact."
"You might get to meet him, in fact," said Andromeda, to the uncomfortable surprise of three of the Malfoys.
The fourth, however, was thrilled.
"Cool!" crowed Draco. "You still know a Muggle?"
"'Course we do," nodded Tonks. "We live in a Muggle neighborhood, so we see them everyday. And Grandad comes over once a week for dinner."
Hermione glanced at her father. He was clearly struggling to maintain a neutral expression. Narcissa, on the other hand, smiled tentatively.
"Well, I'm sure we'll be delighted to meet him. Isn't that right, Lucius?"
The ghost of a grimace crossed his face, "Indeed."
It turned out that they did not have to wait long for the senior Mr. Tonks to arrive. He came in, smelling of woodsmoke and turkey, and greeted each of the Malfoy's warmly.
"I've always hoped to meet some of Andie's family," he grinned, slapping Draco on the back, and embracing Narcissa, "I see that good looks run in the family!"
Narcissa laughed some more, and hugged him back.
"And this must be Hermione. You're as pretty as your mum!"
Lucius wrapped an arm around Hermione, as if afraid this man would want to hug her as well. "And I'm Lucius," he said smoothly, shaking the older man's hand. "Narcissa's husband."
The man, who looked exactly like an older Ted with his spectacles and bow tie, clapped him on the shoulder. "You've got a lovely family. A really lovely family."
"I like to think so," said her father, wiping his hand on his robes when the man turned away.
He was nothing like what Hermione thought a Muggle would be like. She had always thought that most Muggles would be boring and slightly dim. Instead, Mr. Tonks- or "Grandad", as he told the Malfoys to call him, was full of interesting stories. He was a green grocer, and he told tales of all sorts of Muggle mishaps.
"-so she says to me, 'I'm sorry sir, but I demand a full refund. The fruit is moldy,' and I say, 'When you can show me a moldy fruit, I'll give it to you!' and she turns beet red, and shouts, 'What do you call this?' and I say, cool as ice, 'a rat.' She was holding a dead rat the whole time!"
There was a roar of laughter (mostly from Andromeda and Narcissa). They were all sitting in the living room. Narcissa and Andromeda shared a loveseat, while Hermione, Lucius, and Draco sat on the couch. Ted and Mr. Tonks sat in chairs they'd brought in from the dining room, and Tonks sprawled across the carpet.
"Enough about me though, how is Hogwarts these days? Ever since this one," Mr. Tonks nodded at Tonks, "left I've been missing the stories."
"Nothing interesting happens there now that the Ministry is involved," grumbled Hermione. "That awful Umbridge woman-"
"Has she mistreated you?" asked Lucius sharply. He looked as if he would love to take his frustration out on something.
"No," she was almost sad for it. "She's just stupid. I'm not learning anything this year!"
"I thought Harry started a study group?" Tonks asked from where she sat on the floor.
Draco laughed, "He did, but Hermione's upset that someone her own age is better at something than she is."
"I am not!" protested Hermione. "I'm glad that Harry has his strengths."
"Then why did you stop coming after you couldn't cast a patronus?"
She felt her cheeks burn, and her eyes dropped to her lap. That stupid charm. She had practiced later, too. Even when she was alone she couldn't produce anything more than a thin mist.
"You're learning how to cast the patronus charm?" asked Tonks, her eyebrows raising. "That's amazing! I didn't learn that until my Auror training, when I did my mandatory month at Azkaban."
Hermione's head shot up.
"Azkaban?" asked Draco.
"Mhmm," Tonks nodded as she took a drink from her mug. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve when she finished, "All Aurors are required to spend a month guarding at Azkaban." She gave a shudder, "That place still gives me the creeps. The things prisoners say…"
Every hair on Hermione's body stood on edge as she stared hungrily at Tonks. Was there a way to ask about... No. She stole a glance at her mother, then darted her eyes towards her father. She was certain that they would find it alarming if she asked about the aunt who was supposedly blocked from her mind.
The giggles that had been coming steadily from the loveseat ceased.
"Bellatrix is there," whispered Andromeda. She gazed solemnly into the distance, as if recalling a distant memory.
Hermione stared at her, willing her to continue.
It was Tonks who spoke next. "I saw her a few times. She heard them call me by name once, and she used to come to the door when I was patrolling by her cell." She shivered, "Gave me the creeps."
"What did she look like?" asked Hermione without thinking. She felt her cheeks burn even brighter as every eye moved to look at her.
"Like every other prisoner." Shrugged Tonks. "They don't really get baths all that often, so they're all dirty and matted. The smell is horrible, I used to come home and douse myself in perfume in order to mask the stench."
Hermione felt her stomach flip flop.
Draco leaned forward, his eyes grave, "Did she say anything."
The curls bobbed wildly as Tonks shook her head, "Not really. Every once in a while she'd mutter something about filthy half bloods, but for the most part she just stared at me."
"Were you scared?" Draco asked.
Tonks appeared to think about it for a moment. Her face softened, "Not really. I was more scared of the Dementors, I think. The prisoner's are more pathetic than anything. The sounds they make-" she shuddered again. "There is this scream that goes out at night, like a fox cry. And most of the prisoners end of joining in, screaming out over and over again. It lasts for hours most nights."
She felt sick. "And no one does anything?" she could feel her parents looking at her, but she could not hold back the question.
Tonks shook her head again, "There's nothing that can be done."
"That's so sad," Draco sighed.
"No it's not." Narcissa sniffed, her face serious again. "Those prisoners are there because they deserve to be." Her eyes found Hermione's, "Every one of them."
They did not stay too long after that. Tonks had agreed to meet other friends, and Lucius and Hermione had other arrangements as well (not that they divulged that to the Tonks'). There were kisses, and promises to see each other again soon.
"That went better than expected," admitted Narcissa as they walked down the street so that they could find a safe place to Portkey home.
"Did you know that there would be a muggle there?" asked Lucius in a carefully neutral voice.
"No."
Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I thought he was really nice."
She chanced a look at her father, only to find him looking at her. There was a careful, considering look on his face. Then he smiled at Draco. "Very nice. But I hope I don't have to explain the importance of no one in our world finding out-"
"Lucius, calm down," her mother was still a little drunk, and her words were ever so slightly slurred. "The children are clever enough to know not to say anything. They won't mention it."
They found a quiet area behind a large hedge, and portkeyed home using an old teaspoon.
"We're late," hissed Lucius as he checked his pocket watch.
Draco said nothing, but climbed the stairs to his room.
"You can take the drawing room floo," suggested Narcissa, reaching out to smooth Hermione's hair back. "Just don't take be home too late."
Hermione inwardly smiled, as Lucius began to plunge towards the drawing room. "I'm sure it will be a quick visit, there will be too many people there for the attention to be on us for long."
As it turned out, Riddle Manor was nearly empty.
The two Malfoys strode into the Dark Lord's study to find that the only one there was the Dark Lord himself. He sat in his favorite wingback chair, Nagini wrapped around his shoulders like a protective cloak.
"Ah, Lucius, Hermione. It's so nice to see you." He did not look up from where he was staring into the fire.
"Happy Christmas, my lord," she said, summoning up the cheerful smile and tone that Dumbledore thought Voldemort would like. She dropped into a curtsey, and then pulled a chair close to the pale man.
"Happy Christmas," Lucius echoed, doing the same. Before they had left, he had summoned a basket from the kitchen. "We've brought you some of our best elf made wine, in addition to some cakes our kitchen elf made this morning."
"Thank you," said the cold, unaffected voice. He did not look up from the fire.
The two of them exchanged looks, and Hermione reached to pull a bright red envelope from the basket. "I also made you this," she said, passing it to Voldmort.
He took it, and ripped the envelope open, shaking out a photograph. It was Hermione, in a fur lined cloak and her new red dress, smiling from beside a rather large Christmas tree. The words "Happy Holidays- Love, Hermione" were neatly inked in silver across the tree. The photographic Hermione smiled and waved up from the photo. It was something every Malfoy did during the Holidays. Narcissa felt it was more personable than traditional Christmas cards.
There was also a portrait of Draco, and another of both Lucius and Narcissa, but Voldemort left them in the envelope, and propped Hermione's up against an empty glass on the table beside him.
"I'm sorry we're late," Hermione said softly.
At last, Voldemort turned to look at her, "Do try to be on time in the future. I don't like to be kept waiting."
Not for the first time, Hermione wondered if the man in front of her could feel the immense cloud of loneliness that seemed to hang around him. It was always cold when he was in the room. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. "I am sorry. We lost track of time. It won't happen again."
His red eyes bore into hers, "Well, we won't let it ruin the night. Have you had a good day?"
She nodded, smiling over at Lucius, "The best."
"Children like presents, I hear?"
She almost chuckled at that, but she managed to hold it in. "I think everyone likes presents. But yes, I do too."
He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes, but it no longer made her hair stand on end. "I am still working on your present, but first I want to show you something."
He stood, Nagini still clutching his shoulders, and headed towards a low door in the corner of the room. She moved to follow, but to her surprise her father stayed seated.
"Go on," he whispered when she looked unsure. "It's fine."
So she followed the Dark Lord into a low-ceilinged room that held hundreds of mirrors. Every surface was glittering, even the obsidian floor was polished to show their reflections. When she looked up, she saw herself gazing back at her in surprise.
There was a click as the door was pulled shut. The only light came from a single candle that floated above them, but it shone in the numerous reflective surfaces.
"Cor Volumus!" shouted the Dark Lord. A black dart shot from the tip of his wand and into the nearest mirror. It hit the reflection of Hermione, and the real Hermione felt a strange trickling sensation in her chest.
Suddenly, she wasn't looking at herself in the mirrors. Or rather, not herself, herself. The Hermione looking back at her had Draco's blonde hair, and Narcissa's blue eyes. She looked out coolly from her seat on the Wizengamot, smirking a little as her eyes met Hermione's brown ones.
Laughter met her ears, and she twisted to see her parents waving proudly at her. Narcissa had tears in her eyes, and Lucius called out, "We're so proud of you, sweetheart!"
In another mirror a young, blonde Hermione sat in the Great Hall, waiting patiently as the Sorting Hat was set on her head. It barely brushed her hair before it screamed out "Slytherin!"
Tears pricked at Hermione's eyes. "Wh-what is this?" she asked, unable to look away as the blonde Hermione joined a cheering Slytherin table. Snape nodded down from the Head table, a genuine smile on his face.
"This is my room of truth. I was inspired by a certain mirror I ran into a few years ago. A good leader should know what lies in his subject's heart," he paused, watching another blonde Hermione twirl around the Great Hall with a certain part-veela. Mid-twirl, Fleur's silvery hair became dark and curly, her face blurring. Two words flowed out from the scene, "My dove…" and Hermione hoped that he couldn't hear the whisper over the cheering that still came from the Slytherin table.
"When you know what they want," Voldemort continued, "You can help them achieve it."
Hermione swallowed. "You… it's not possible for this to happen," she indicated the cheering Slytherins.
"Maybe not," smirked Voldemort. "But that," he nodded to the Wizengamot Hermione, "and that," he nodded to her parents, "and this," he ran a hand over the dancing figures, "are still within your reach. I can make it happen. With me, you can make it happen."
Something flickered across the floor, and Hermione looked down to see herself, blonde again, roaring with laughter as she ran away from another blurry-faced woman. Another roar of laughter joined hers, and she recognized the voice.
Bellatrix.
"And so, Hermione Malfoy, I will ask the most important question you will ever be asked in your life. Would you like to join me? Would you like all of this?"
Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from what was happening beneath her feet. Her cheeks burned crimson as the darker lady caught up to her, spun her around…
"Hermione?"
"Yes."
"What was that?"
She wrenched her gaze up, meeting his red eyes. "I said yes. I'll do it."
A mirthless chuckle filled the room as one by one the blonde Hermione's disappeared. They were replaced by glowing red eyes.
"Then we'd better find you a suitable tutor."
A/N: As always, thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!