Chapter V:

The next couple of days at Malfoy Manor seemed like a punishment for her behaviour. She didn't see anyone except at meals, which was more than enough for her, and thankfully they basically ignored her existence there, instead having brief polite conversations with each other. If she was at home right now they would be hanging up their stockings at the ends of their beds, reading through their classic Christmas books ritualistically and then laying out a mince pie and glass of port for Father Christmas, even after they knew she knew it was them. Christmas Eve had always been the Grangers' favourite part of the holidays, the heart of it. She wondered if the Malfoys did anything for it whatsoever. "We'll be having our annual Christmas Eve ball tomorrow," announced Lucius. Was he a legilimens? If so, she was going to have be careful not just verbally but also with her thoughts, making this a prison in more ways than one. "I don't expect you have anything suitable," his wife didn't even wait for her to protest. "So I will kindly lend you one of my evening dresses." Fifty galleons that it was green and/or silver.


Surprisingly enough, it wasn't. Whilst Narcissa herself was adorned like a Christmas tree, Hermione's colour scheme was more like Father Christmas. It was a rich burgundy in mermaid style with gold lacing on the bodice like the ribbon on a perfectly wrapped present. She felt a little like one in the cinched waistline. Wrapped up tight. Not so subtly, the older witch had left a bottle of Sleekeazy on her dressing table and, not in the mood for arguments on this festive day, Hermione slathered it onto her hair until it was as straight as an arrow. All made up, she felt like throwing herself a pity party rather than traipsing out to be inspected and admonished by swathes of blood supremacists. Maybe they would just treat her like a speck of dust as the Malfoys had been doing? A girl could only hope. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she opened the door to find Malfoy with his perpetual revolted expression, a fist raised as if he were about to knock. He looked her over, his eyes shifting from foggy grey to a shade more like burning ashes. He seemed suddenly flustered in the gold trimmed suit that matched the detail on her dress, but when he spoke his voice was level enough. "You don't clean up half bad Hermione," he hadn't called her by her name for a while, instead just ordering her around without properly addressing her. "My mother has truly exquisite taste. That dress really highlights your curves rather than making you seem your usual frumpy self." Only he could turn a half-arsed compliment into an appraisal of his mummy and a brutal rebuttal of her style. He gestured to his own head. "The hair thing was a good choice as well. Allows one to actually focus on something other than the bush that could hide a raccoon." Well that was just hyperbole. Her hair had actually calmed down once she'd passed puberty. Meeting her chestnut eyes his mouth opened and then shut before he offered her his arm.

They descended to the ballroom floor, which was dancing with a swirl of colours. She wanted to submerge herself into the crowd, and hopefully go find some food at the extensive buffet with the crystal plates, but he stopped her midway down the stairs, just above where his parents were stood. They both turned and nodded approvingly at the couple before calling for the crowd's attention with an elegant clink of their champagne flutes."Good evening friends," greeted Lucius. "Season's greetings. My family and I," he reluctantly gestured at Hermione. "Which you will see now has an extra member-"

"And hopefully another by this time next year," said Narcissa, all beams, to chortles which could have been either mocking or delighted. Hermione didn't pay much heed to the rest of the welcoming speech. She was distracted by the glimmering ceiling feature. "I see you repaired the chandelier," she observed dryly to Malfoy under her breath.

Clapping in a convincing image of the attentive son, he muttered, "no matter how dramatic the damage, it can always be fixed with a quick repairo by any real wizard."

She scowled, a faint blush on her cheeks. "You know I'm more than capable. Didn't I best you every year of competition?"

"Have a fabulous night!" The Malfoys concluded at last, and she smiled agreeably down at the crowd, surprised when her eye caught not just familiar faces, but also beloved ones. She very nearly screamed out their names, but she couldn't stop herself from racing towards them, despite the failed tug on her arm, she managed to move her arm just in time. Honestly, she didn't care a jot if there was a predecided circulation to meeting guests, she'd been alone here for what felt like weeks and she needed the comfort of friends who were like family.

"Wow 'Mione!" Harry exulted her as she catapulted into his arms. "You look gorgeous."

His wife nodded half-heartedly. "Quite tolerable to the eye."

"Not bad Granger!" Laughed Zabini. She hadn't heard him speak that often but it was quite pleasant really. Melodic and jocular. The worst news in the world would probably sound fun coming from his lips. Ginny certainly thought so, looking away from him only to give Hermione a friendly smile and then giggling hysterically at a joke of his again.

"That's Malfoy to you, mate," her husband had caught up to her and was wiggling his eyebrows at Ginny's beau in the sort of best friend signal she used with her own. Maybe Zabini's brightness was contagious because Malfoy's practised smile had dissolved into a genuine grin, his face crinkling at the edges, his eyes actually lighting up. She probably shouldn't be wasting this limited time with her friends, but seeing him like this was captivating. Eventually she forced herself to look away. Daphne had wandered off to go find more interesting company so Harry gladly filled her in on everything going on at the Burrow. Molly had grandma fever times four and had been knitting up a storm of baby sweaters and scarves- as well as Daphne, Ginny and Sally-Anne, Bill and Fleur were also expecting a child, around the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. They'd all been worried about George, who'd lost his sense of humour without his twin, but somehow their predicament had invigorated him and he'd started creating new inventions for the joke shop, as well as routinely mocking them on how they should have dropped out like he did. Percy had of course been out of school for some years now but he was as dedicated to the Ministry as ever and determined to help them in whatever way possible so he'd found a woman named Audrey and proposed to her. Hermione wasn't complaining, maybe they could just pop out all the babies necessary to take the Wizarding population back up to normal without her ever needing to conceive a Malfoy. Charlie, on the other hand, had written to tell them he found it all quite awful and that if they ever needed to get away his dragon sanctuary would always welcome them. Apparently they would be having a huge feast tomorrow with all their spouses and in-laws at Bill and Fleur's home. It had been decided as neutral territory after a brief argument between the otherwise chummy Mrs Greenglass, Weasley and Zabini about who should be the hostess. Mrs Perks, on the other hand, seemed quite willing to let it be held anywhere else, as if her daughter was owed something for being ignored by her classmates all these years. It sounded like Hermione and the Malfoys' rival for most awkward Christmas dinner, which made her selfishly and secretly thrilled.

"Care to dance?" Harry asked her when they'd caught each other up. She wasn't quite sure how these things work, and she didn't want to enrage him, so she glanced to the Slytherin duo, but Malfoy had disappeared, leaving Ginny and Zabini to eat each others' faces off. Shrugging internally, she gave her friend a little curtsy and he led her onto the ballroom floor, placing one hand in hers and the other on her back. As they waltzed she nodded at him, impressed. "You've improved a lot since the Yule Ball."

He blushed, breaking her gaze. "Daphne's been teaching me."

"Mm?" He made a "pft" noise and they both chuckled but Hermione broke off abruptly when she saw her husband through the doorway in the sitting room. His father seemed to be yelling at him, perhaps with a silencing charm around them as she couldn't hear anything, but Malfoy wasn't paying him much heed. As soon as he saw her with Harry his expression hardened and his hands fisted. He said something that looked like "alright" and stormed away to an elf, grabbing a flute from their tray and downing the liquid within. Her heart clenched nervously and she stepped away from Harry, but she was pretty sure the damage was already done.

Guest: No, it's Daphne :)

AN: Taking a brief break from the drama for a little flashforward next chapter.