Hermione tugged nervously at the out of character robes she was wearing, dark green with an intricate design embroidered in gold on the hem and sleeves. Her hair was up, and she wore delicate earrings that dropped like water into tiny pendants. She didn't look at all like herself - and that was the point. They way Severus had put it was that she needed to look like she wanted to impress, that she was trying to belong there. To that note, her fingernails remained the same as always, bitten down roughly and incredibly short. Her hair was twisted elegantly, but retained some of the frizz. She was dressed as if for a job interview; clearly putting on her best, but the rough parts of her still showing through.
Snape nodded his approval from the door to her bedchamber.
"You look good," he commented.
Hermione blushed. "Really? You think so?"
"Yeah, you look every bit an eager death eater."
The girl scowled. "Thanks, Snape. Really."
He raised his eyebrows, and Hermione gulped as she realised her informality addressing him as such. He looked every bit as cold and fierce as the Professor she'd known for over six years, and at that moment she expected to be given a detention, or worse, to lose house points!
"What did you expect?" he hissed. "You don't want me to say you look every bit a teenage girl about to go to the yule ball do you?" He sneered the words, and Hermione's eyes flamed with irritation.
"I'll have you know I looked great at the yule ball," she replied tartly. "And at least one of us went with a date."
"I was a chaperone!"
"You were a teacher," Hermione corrected. "And yet I didn't see you setting a good example by mingling."
He snorted, and his lip curled. "I made a perfectly good example by staying sober and keeping people out of trouble. If I remember correctly, you're the one that caused a scene."
"That wasn't my fault!" Hermione snapped. "That was Ron being a bull-headed arsehole! It's hardly my causing a scene if men are ridiculous at expressing their emotions and prone to jealousy."
"Nice generalisation there, Hermione. Want to take a punt at Hufflepuffs being stupid, or Slytherins being evil?"
"Well the second point isn't exactly being proven wrong, is it?"
"You'd rather believe that Slytherins are evil than that Hufflepuffs are less than bright?"
"There's nothing stating that Hufflepuffs cannot be academically inclined or successful. Their main trait is loyalty, which Does Not equal stupidity, Professor. If you think that low intellect and strong friendship are the same thing, then you're the one who might want to try testing for their OWLs again."
"I got higher grades than yours," Severus replied coolly. "And with much less frenzied studying and obvious anxiety, I might add."
"You didn't take yours while being taught by Dolores Umbridge."
"I didn't," her companion conceded.
They both calmed their breathing, and an almost visible weight lifted from them as Hermione gave the dark haired professor a small smile.
"Looks like I win," she pointed out smugly.
"You do not."
"And why not?"
"Because the original point was that you believe all men to adhere to the same standards, to be put into a nicely labelled box. That would be like claiming all women are like your classmate, Miss Brown."
Hermione shuddered. "Touche."
Severus bowed low with a flourish.
"And that, young Hermione, is how it is done."
"Arse," Hermione muttered.
Snape was about to reply when a firm knock sounded on Hermione's door, and Severus threw it open to reveal a rather pale Professor McGonagall.
"Severus, may I borrow you for a moment."
"Yes, Minerva," he replied. "Only a moment mind, you are aware that I have other commitments this evening."
The door closed quietly behind the pair, and Hermione sat down for a moment to draw breath. Their brief debate had distracted her from her nerves, but now that Severus was gone, she felt them returning in full force. Nausea bubbled, and a lightheaded feeling passed over her.
You can do this. You need to do this. For the war, for the light. For Snape, for Dumbledore, for the Weasleys. For Harry. For yourself.
You need to do this to remove the title of 'mudblood'. You need to do it for the other muggleborns.
You can do this. Be brave.
Hermione was still seated with a last minute mug of chamomile tea when her mentor returned. He was looking every bit as collected as he had before he left, but Hermione knew he must be as scared as she was. If this went badly, she wouldn't be the only one to die. Severus would, too.
"I-" she began, swallowing thickly. "If this goes badly, I-"
"It won't," he cut her off. "You'll do fine, I have faith in you."
"You trust me?"
"With my life," he said firmly, and although his tone held no humour, he smirked when his small friend gave a slightly hysterical chuckle at the apt phrase.
They were alone when they walked towards the gates. Severus had refused escort from a
worried Minerva, and Dumbledore had never expected that he would be hand-holding his spies. Hermione was grateful for this; it gave her a little longer to take deep breaths and push herself into character.
She gasped when they arrived at the apparition point. Malfoy manor was everything she had expected it to be in size and grandiosity. It was evidently an old estate, and appeared to come right out of a period drama. The gardens were immaculate, and the walls clean, but Hermione was struck by how dark it was. Not a light on to be seen, or person outside. She frowned.
"Isn't it rather quiet?" she asked softly.
"It's supposed to be. There isn't exactly a banner to hang out for "Death Eaters here, please invade"."
Well, it would be a bit circumspect. She couldn't argue with that.
"Are you ready?" he asked her.
"Yes!" She threw on a dazzling smile and nodded enthusiastically. "I only hope that they accept me as you have done. Do you think they'll like me?"
He smirked approvingly. "As long as you keep your know-it-all nature to yourself, you won't embarrass me too thoroughly. Shall we?"
He held out an elbow, and she tucked her hand elegantly into the crook, tightening her grip a little too tight to be casual, and nibbling her lip in an affectation of nervous concern. Severus had told them about her already, and she knew that they would expect her to very much match up to the descriptions given, not just by Snape, but also from Draco.
"Will Draco be present?" she asked.
He inclined his head. "Yes. But please keep school chat to the minimum. This is a meeting. You're not being babysat."
"Yes, sir."
A house elf greeted them at the door, and Hermione followed Severus' lead. They each handed over their cloaks without so much as looking at the servant, immediately entering into the house, leaving the door open behind them.
Sorry, elf. Needs must.
The large dining room was already full, only a couple of seats at the large table remaining. A few robed individuals lingered standing in the shadows of the room, away from the rest of the group. A trio of wizards stood before the fireplace, muttering quietly among themselves. A few curious looks were shot her way as Hermione and Severus sat down, but they held surprisingly little animosity. When they didn't address her, or throw her out, Hermione began to feel rather awkward, but instead pushed it aside.
Time to play the role.
She chirped across the table at the woman opposite her. "Hello! I'm afraid Professor Snape hasn't started any introductions…" she held out her hand to shake. "My name is Hermione."
The woman's eyes were guarded, but she chuckled as she took the offered hand. "Severus can be rather uncouth in his manners, it's true. Everyone shall be introduced to you shortly. The dinner will be served in a few moments."
The Malfoy's entered the room together, several of the attendees taking to their feet to greet them formally. Mr and Mrs Malfoy showed no surprise at the young Gryffindor's attendance, however Draco paled and tensed, ready to bolt at any moment.
"Draco!" Hermione called, standing to offer a small bow. "Thank you for inviting me into your home, Lord and Lady Malfoy."
Lucius looked just as skeptical as his son, but his wife smiled warmly and glided over to kiss the girl on the cheek. "You're most welcome, my dear. Draco has told us so much about you."
"All of it good I hope?" Hermione murmured and Narcissa gestured for her to return to her seated position.
"I hear you two are working on your research project together with Severus. I would love to hear more about it from all of you, later."
She clapped her hands, and everyone took their seats at the table, seeming to follow an invisible seating chart. One end of the table held an empty seat, presumably for the Dark Lord.
She eyed it curiously, and Draco whispered to her; "He doesn't eat with us. He usually shows up later."
Hermione nodded, and waited for Lucius to begin eating the soup and bread in front of him. She noticed several nods of approval as she took up her spoon after observing his first mouthful.
It felt like a trap. Were they really to be won over by some basic etiquette?
"So, Hermione," Lucius began quietly. "How are you finding working with our surly friend, here?"
"Remarkably pleasant," she immediately responded. "What he lacks in charm, he makes up for in wit and knowledge. A more than acceptable trade off, I hope you'd agree."
The elder Malfoy smirked. "Indeed."
She glanced almost apologetically at her companion, but thankfully he seemed amused rather than angry.
He raised an eyebrow. "Charm and beauty are nothing compared to the mental attributes."
"Easy to see how you'd come to that conclusion," Lucius shot at him.
"Easy to see how Hermione would, too," Severus replied, just as quickly.
"Lacking in manners there, Professor," Hermione scowled. "Lack of charm is not acknowledging a woman's attributes. Calling her ugly is just rude."
The majority of the table were now staring at them in shock. Why had Severus ribbed her in such a way? And why had Lucius done the same? She'd so easily fallen into the old patterns of bantering with her friend. Maybe that was a good thing; it showed that she was truly at ease around him, rather than simply pretending.
By the time that desert was served, most of the table had laughed loudly at the group antics, and the stakes had been upped with each insult from Hermione, Severus and the Malfoys. Draco, to her shock, could take as good as he gave, reserved as he still was. A couple of other, unfamiliar, people joined in against either Lucius or Severus, and the group atmosphere felt… homely, and joyous instead of frightening.
Is this a dream?
All of that joy and courage vanished, the moment that Voldemort entered the room. He swept in silently through a side door, without any pomp or grand entry. The table, nevertheless, fell silent as he took his seat, everyone lowering their heads in respect, and Hermione mimicking their actions even as the houselves banished the dishes from the table, replacing them with a variety of post-dinner beverages.
Severus prepared tea for Hermione, and then himself, both of them sipping their drinks in unison. While Severus appeared nonchalant, Hermione couldn't help but shoot glances at the man who had just joined their dinner party. He did not partake of any refreshment, simply running his eyes slowly over the attendees. He met their gazes wherever possible, his Death Eaters seemingly unable to avoid eye contact with him.
He engaged in a quiet conversation with those closest to him, leaning close to Bellatrix Lestrange, and sharing words with both her husband and his brother. Neither of the men blinked an eye at the physical closeness of the woman and their Dark Lord, and Hermione cocked her head at that, tearing her gaze away as Severus pulled on her forearm to gain her attention.
"Lucius and I shall retire to the library shortly. Narcissa will be so kind as to escort you to her parlor, where you will be able to meet with several of the other women here."
It seemed archaic, the men and women splitting off after dinner, but Hermione nodded obediently. "Yes, Professor. Thank you, Lady Malfoy."
"You're welcome, my dear."
The parlor was somehow both very feminine and still classy. It reminded Hermione of the magazines that her dorm-mates would leave lying around, or even the muggle 'ideal' home intended for women who had their husband whipped. It was easy to see that Narcissa's tastes were girly and refined, and that her husband didn't tend to set foot in such a room. Quaint ornaments and vases full of flowers dotted around to bring colour to the otherwise pale room, and Hermione smiled at a collection of photos on a side table as she took a seat on one of several brown pouffes. They held a pink tint, but not strong enough to be reminiscent of Umbridge's office. The room was… comforting. As if it belonged to a relative that you'd only see on rare occasions.
The photos held a collection of individuals; showing the Malfoy's and Lestranges, including several photos of Draco as he grew up. What surprised her, though, was the sight of a teenager with bright pink hair in between a friendly looking man and a woman who looked remarkably similar to Narcissa herself, and even Bellatrix.
"Tonks?" She burst out, before she could help herself.
A gentle voice disrupted her thoughts from beside her.
"My niece," Narcissa replied quietly. "She is with my sister and her husband."
Hermione felt a lump grow in her throat, her mind full of thoughts and questions that begged to burst free. Andromeda had been exiled from the family… she'd been removed from the family tree. She was the enemy of her siblings; why would Narcissa have a photo in pride of place among the rest of the homely portraits?
Narcissa smiled at her wryly. "Not that I've seen her often. I haven't seen her since she was a baby. Andy, my sister, allowed me a photo, at least. I hear she's an auror now. A member of the Order. She even has a baby."
Numbly, Hermione nodded. "Yes."
She nibbled her lip for a moment before glancing around the room. The other women were all chatting in small groups. "I didn't realise that you were still in contact."
Narcissa sighed. "We have different political views, of course, but she will always be family, and I will always care about her."
Hermione attempted a small smile, but couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. She sniffed as quietly as she could, giving a small grateful laugh as the older woman passed her a neatly pressed handkerchief.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Are you alright, dear?"
"Yes. I just miss my family."
Tell the truth, Hermione reminded herself. Tell the truth without giving too much away.
"I'm alone now," she added. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect to become so emotional."
Narcissa patted her on the shoulder sympathetically. "It's alright, Hermione. I am sorry to hear about your family."
"Even though they're muggles?"
The room had quietened slightly as those closest turned their attention to the conversation taking place. Narcissa flicked a glance at the others and sighed before focusing once more on the vulnerable muggleborn beside her.
"Family is family, and humans are humans, Hermione. Blood status doesn't stop you grieving."
Tread lightly.
"I would have thought that you wouldn't count muggles as humans?" she edged slowly.
A small spatter of chuckles sounded from a trio of women on a coach opposite. A tall, brunette woman with a pointed face leaned forwards.
"Of course muggles are humans! What else would they be?"
"I… I don't know," Hermione replied lamely. How could she keep them talking? How could she find out more about them and their plans if she didn't know about their ideology? Silently cursing herself for failing to prepare completely, Hermione tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "But, the Muggle-born Registration Commission? If muggle borns are supposedly thieves, how do you determine the supposed thievery?"
Narcissa raised a hand before the other woman could reply. "I think you should discuss this with Severus, not with us. If you believe us to be a threat to you, why are you here?"
The question was laced with curiosity, but Hermione internally recoiled as she caught the tiniest hint of defensive pain from the blonde.
"I'm here, because the enemy of the enemy is my friend," Hermione said, smiling wryly. "My… interests are more personal than expansive."
Narcissa's eyes stared directly into her own, and Hermione gulped as she focused on her shields.
Does Narcissa know Legilimency? Severus told me to watch out for Bellatrix, but what about the Malfoy matriarch? Fucking buggering hell… I hope Severus is alright.
As it turned out, Severus was fine. She breathed a sigh of relief as her partner in crime hovered in the doorway an hour later, gesturing for her to join him. "Thank you, as always, for your wonderful hospitality, Narcissa."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "It's been lovely to meet you properly."
And when Severus took her arm for them to go back home, Hermione came to a sudden realisation - her night at the Malfoy's had given her more questions to ask than information to give. Where was the reality between the people she'd met, and the acts that they'd committed?