Disclaimer: Many thanks to JK Rowling for her wonderful works. They are hers and hers alone. I have only borrowed her characters for a while and built my own little fantasy around them. There is no pay involved for me in doing it.

Chapter 22

The rest of the day was rather uneventful for them. They had talked a bit and then Hermione left soon after to shop for a new set of dress robes for his mother's party. She was apprehensive to say the very least, but she wasn't about to look it. Draco had put more of his things away in her apartment and settled back comfortably to listen to a Quidditch game on the radio, which Hermione had charmed to get the Wizarding Network. He grabbed a book to get his mind off Blaise and his problems. He knew there was little he could do and it frustrated him to not be able to help his friend.

He was stretched out on the sofa reading when she returned looking harassed, but triumphant.

"Done, finally!" she shouted.

He laughed and got up when she dropped her bags by the door, "Had that much fun, did you?"

"I hate shopping," she whined and slipped her shoes off. "Nothing should be that hard."

He kissed her quickly and laughed, "You're the only woman I know who doesn't enjoy spending the day running from shop to shop." He picked up her bags and took them back over to the sofa, "So, how many books did you buy?"

She laughed that he knew her so well, "Only a few. And, I got you one or two."

He laughed and started to rifle through the bags. But, when he got to the ones from the dress shop, she jumped forward and slapped his hands away.

"What?"

She took the bags and stepped back from him with a grin, "No peeking. It's a surprise."

"Oh really," he smirked and advanced on her.

She nodded and sidestepped him, "Yes, really. Now, go find what I bought you. I'll be right back."

"Fine," he laughed. When she disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door he chuckled to himself and went back to the bags. He pulled out a few books that he knew surely weren't for him and then came across one called, Magical Crimes and Their Solutions, and smiled at her thoughtfulness. He flopped back down on the sofa and started flipping through it. He quickly got caught up in one of the stories.

"Um, Draco?" he heard from behind him.

His gaze flicked to his watch and he realized almost twenty minutes had passed since she'd gone in the room.

"Yeah?" he asked as he put a mark in the book so he wouldn't lose his place.

"Surprise number 1," she laughed softly.

He turned to ask her what she was talking about and froze in shock. His eyes traveled slowly over her from head to toe and he had to remind himself to breathe.

Hermione giggled a bit at his look of shock and pure lust. She turned slowly, feeling more powerful under his intense stare, than she ever had while wielding her wand.

"I thought you'd like some green and silver, too," she whispered.

Draco swallowed as his eyes drank in her in. She glowed in a short sheath of dark green silk with silver strands running through it. Silver fur lined the edges of the low cut top, drawing his eyes to the swell of her chest. And, when she turned, the fur at the bottom skimmed along the backs of her well-toned thighs and gave him a brief glimpse of a matching swath of silk covering her butt.

Hermione stood and watched the shifting emotions cross his normally controlled features and wondered what she should say or do next. When Ginny had suggested she do this, she hadn't given Hermione any real direction. She had implied that Draco would take over pretty quickly. But, he seemed immobile. His silence was a bit unnerving and she had to stop herself from fidgeting.

"Draco?" she asked softly.

Then she let out a startled squeak as that one word seemed to go through him like a stunning spell and he swooped across the room to grab her.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he mumbled against her neck.

"Thanks," she smiled as a shiver ran through her.

He pulled back and looked at her with a wicked smirk, "No, Mi. Thank you."

She laughed out loud when he picked her up and ran to the bedroom. She was put gently down on the bed and looked at him as he backed away.

He stood staring down at her for a moment and then he smiled wickedly at her. "Hold on."

With a flick of his wrist the lights lowered and the candles on the dresser and window sill flared to life. She smiled softly at him and he closed his eyes momentarily. She felt the bed under her change and looked down to see she was now resting back against black silk sheets.

With a light laugh, she held out her hand to him, "You going to join me?"

He nodded and pulled off his clothes as quickly as possible as he moved to the bed. When he stood naked and proud beside her she sighed happily. He grinned wolfishly and leaned down over her as their lips met in a frenzied kiss. He pushed her back and lifted his head to ask, "So, is this why I couldn't see what was in the bag?"

She nodded and smiled as her hand trailed down his shoulder, across his chest and settled on his hip. "But, you still can't see the rest until tomorrow."

"Is there more like this in there," he asked as he let his hands slide across her body, shifting the soft fabric against her skin to reveal one breast to his hungry gaze.

She purred and pressed herself into his strong hand, "Mmmm, maybe. You'll have to wait for tomorrow to find out."

He leaned down, sniffed her unique scent and released a groan of desire and pleasure. Then he nibbled and licked his way down to her chest as he teased, "Well, I'm sure Father would find it intriguing party dress, but I don't think Mother would approve."

She shivered slightly in revulsion, but forced a laugh and slapped his arm, "I meant tomorrow night."

He laughed and tugged on her nipple with his lips before answering, "Oh good, because as much as I do love my father, I don't think I fancy him seeing you this way."

Before she could answer, his lips found hers again and his tongue plunged in to wipe any thought of speaking from her mind.

When he slid down her body, hands, lips, teeth and tongue devouring her as he went, she sighed, "Dra," and felt him quiver against her heated body.

She felt him slide the wisp of silk down her legs as her hands tangled in his hair and she lifted her hips to assist him. Before she could lower herself completely, he grasped her hips and made them one. A shudder of delight ran through both of them as they lost themselves in each other.

All too soon she felt like she was flying and heard him chanting her name, as he grasped her tighter to him and let go.

With a smile of contentment and completeness she thought, Thank you, Ginny!

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"Too surreal," she whispered to herself. "I can do this. I can do this."

She and Draco had flooed to his parents' mansion and were standing in front of the huge fireplace. He had helped her right herself and took a moment to quickly clean them off, as she stood staring at the room in front of her.

Her eyes were round in her extremely pale face as she looked up at him. She saw him look at her with concern and forced a joke, "Good Lord, Draco, my whole apartment and half of your loft would fit in this one room!"

He saw how shallowly she was breathing and feared she would make herself sick, "Mi, look at me."

She turned toward him, but her eyes kept flicking back and forth, and while her one hand held his in a crushing grip, her other kept straying to her wand pocket. Her normally tanned face was almost as pale as his, and she was shaking like she was freezing to death.

He took her chin in his hand and said again, "Mi? Mione? Hermione!"

Her eyes snapped to his and she flinched. His stomach clenched at the fear he saw in her eyes. But he held her stare.

"Okay, love, breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out. Good."

"I'm okay," she mumbled. Then more to herself, "I'm okay."

He laughed a little and brought her closer to hug her, "If you say so."

She dropped her head against his chest and said, "I'm sorry. It's just…I can't believe I'm really…I mean…okay, dammit, this is ridiculous. I'm stronger than this. I can do this!"

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, "It's going to be fine, I promise. Just keep telling yourself, they're more scared of you than you are of them."

"Yeah, right," she said more to herself than him.

"Seriously, they want this to work, Mi. So, straighten those Gryffindor shoulders and strap on that famous bravery for me."

Then she took a deep breath and looked at him a bit calmer than before, "Okay, lead on Macduff."

"What?"

His confusion steadied her a bit and she laughed, "Never mind, I'll explain later."

He took up their one bag and led her across the expansive, brightly lit sitting room. She took in the expensive furnishings, tapestries, and carpets and quickly calculated how much this one room must have cost them.

"Where are they?" she whispered.

"They're upstairs somewhere. Probably still getting ready."

She nodded and continued forward, chin held high. But, when they stepped out of the room and into the main foyer, her jaw dropped.

Above her head was a chandelier that could have graced Windsor Castle. The huge, wide windows gave her a view of a long sloping lawn that looked as if it could have graced the cover of the magazine Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. In her awe she forgot her nerves and dropped his hand to spin slowly as she took it all in.

She had expected it to be dark, gloomy, and scary, like the images in her memory, but she stood in the center of beautiful brilliance. The crystal shone, the windows sparkled, and the carpet was so plush she wanted to sink into it. Her eyes followed the beautiful marble of the grand staircase up to where it split and she saw a painting of Draco and his family, each with a soft smile on their faces. It was so lifelike that his eyes drew her closer. Without realizing she had moved, she found herself in front of it. With a tiny smile she stared up at the small boy she had despised, but still reached up to touch the cheek of the younger version of the man she loved.

His chuckle, so close behind her, brought her back to herself and she spun to smile at him.

He laughed down at her, "There's a lot more. Come on."

Now that she had relaxed fractionally she forced herself to enjoy his quick tour. It was so different than what she had expected to see, that she forgot where she was and just enjoyed each antique trinket, precious glass, and beautifully kept treasure. In her slight daze, she realized, she couldn't tell which of the many rooms was 'The One'.

Draco watched her enjoy his childhood home as he showed her the fifteen rooms of the west wing. He explained that most of it had been reconstructed. The war had been as hard on the house as the family in it. He told her how he barely remembered what it had looked like then. Now, this was where they entertained; where his parents showed off their wealth and status. His mother kept it bright, well-kept, and welcoming. He mentioned that it hadn't always been that way, but that his mother had had several rooms destroyed completely and remade. She'd even had walls removed and some rooms redone from the ground up. While he told her the history of some of the items, and regaled her with stories of items he'd broken as a child, he also worried about taking her to the east wing. And, he had no plans to show her anything on the lower levels.

When they completed their tour of the one side and arrived back at the break in the stairs, he stopped her.

"Now, this side is a bit different, just so you know. This is the side we mostly lived on, and um, it's uh, not the same as the other side. Father refuses to…well, Mother hasn't had a chance to really change much of it."

His nervousness finally penetrated her happy bubble and trepidation filled her voice as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"It's not bad or anything, but, well, there's more, um, dark stuff, I guess. Not illegal or anything, I promise, but, well, I guess you'll get to see more of what you were expecting," he sighed.

He looked so sad about it that she took his hand, mustered up a smile and said, "Is your old bedroom this way?"

He blinked at her, but nodded, "Yeah, why?"

She leaned into him and teased, "Because I have always wanted to know what kind of decorations that bad little boy had on his walls."

He laughed a little and pulled her close as he said haughtily, "Nothing naughty I assure you."

She could still feel the tension in him and tilted her head back to look up at him, "Honestly, Draco, it can't be that bad. And, no matter what your parents have in their house, it's no reflection on you. I know you aren't that boy anymore and I promise to still love you when we leave tonight."

He still looked doubtful, but those were the words he seemed to need. She watched him close his eyes, nod and take a breath before he leaned down to kiss her, "Thank you."

With a soft smile she took his hand again and straightened. "Come on."

She willed herself to not to act as startled as she felt by the vast contrast. Where the other side had held paintings of landscapes and magical pictures of rolling country sides, this one had pictures of his family; each darker and more sinister looking than the last. None of them smiled and all seemed to be barely holding back their outrage at her presence. A few simply glared at her before they walked out of their frames. The rugs on this side were just as plush, if a bit more worn, but gone were the light colors, replaced with only black, dark blues and greens. The walls were darker shades of greys, browns and blues. Even the air seemed colder. This was the manor from her memory.

At the end of the long hallway stood another family portrait; painted sometime around their fourth or fifth year.

Hermione passed several rooms, with their doors tightly shut, without noticing, as she walked slowly toward the image. The three stood in the same stances as the first portrait, but were several years older. Narcissa was more brittle, her eyes harder, her mouth tighter, showing more a grimace than a smile. Lucius stood slightly behind the other two, unyielding, his gaze fierce, a sneer across his lips. She recalled that same look from her childhood and felt a frisson of the old fear. Last, she let her eyes rest on the teenager in the middle. There was the proud, angry, hurtful boy she remembered. He wore the same smirk, his eyes held the same contempt and hate. She could almost hear the word, mudblood, sneered at her again as a shiver ran through her.

She was so lost in it that she jumped when his hands fell on her hips from behind. She took a breath and closed her eyes to block it out when he asked softly, "You okay?"

With a nod she turned and met his tortured eyes. She put her hand to his cheek and smiled as he leaned into it.

"I'm fine. Really. Now, where's that bedroom?"

His eyes sparked with laughter and appreciation for a moment before his anxiety quickly wiped it away.

"Back here. But, really, there isn't that much to see. The Ministry confiscated quite a bit, and I never really had all that much in there anyway."

She let him lead her back down the hall to the door closest to the stairs. She was surprised to hear him go through five different charms, before he inserted a key into the lock on the door and it finally opened. He gave her an embarrassed shrug before allowing her into the room first.

She inhaled sharply at the starkness of the room and her heart broke a little for him. He wouldn't meet her eye as he put their clothing on the bed and moved to open the curtains and let light into the room. She turned slowly and took in the room. While his bedroom set was undeniably old, expensive and beautiful; it was also dark and very scarred, its beauty almost haunting. Under her feet, a dark green carpet, its tread worn from his many days of pacing. The walls were a dark brown. Hermione stepped over to his bookcase and saw books whose names made her shudder. On his desk, his Hogwarts prefect badge, a framed copy of his admittance to the school, and a letter announcing to his parents his acceptance into Slytherin. The rest of the room was bare, except for scars on the walls that she recognized as missed hexes or curses. A tear escaped as she traced one of the myriad of scars and thought of the horrors he must have lived through.

She turned to find him gazing out one of the windows, his hands in his pockets, his back straight, his proud face troubled. Without a word she went to him and hugged him from behind. He stiffened a little and seemed to hold his breath. But, as she held on and tightened her grip she felt him relax a little. Trying to express her sorrow for all he'd suffered, she placed a kiss between his broad shoulders and waited.

Draco was swamped with feelings he could barely separate as they rapidly assaulted him. Fear of her rejection. Shame at her seeing and being reminded of who he had been. Anger at himself for allowing her to see it. Rejection of her pity. Sadness and anger that there was so little to show for all his suffering, fear and angst.

He felt her come up behind him and waited for her to express herself. He braced himself for the onslaught of outrage or pity. But, when she remained silent he finally understood that she was trying to give him support. The relief that she didn't immediately demand to leave, the house or him, allowed him to breathe a bit easier and relax a little into her arms. The kiss almost buckled his knees.

Neither spoke, but he pulled her around in front of him and held on tight as he continued to stare out the window. She could only guess at the memories he was experiencing and the thoughts he had running through his head. But, she knew he needed her to be okay, so that he could be.

"You're home!"

They jumped apart and turned to see Narcissa striding elegantly across the carpet towards them.

"You didn't even announce yourself," she chided and opened her arms to her son.

"Sorry, Mother," he smiled and hugged her. He stepped back and took Hermione's hand, "I was showing Mione around."

Hermione looked at the graceful, bejeweled woman in the shining silver robes and was reminded of the picture in the first portrait. She looked younger, healthier, and happier; her whole being lighter.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," she said softly, unsure of her reception.

Narcissa turned to her and smiled, "Welcome to our home, Ms. Granger. And, please call me Narcissa or Cissa."

Hermione couldn't dredge up a full smile, but took the offered hand and thinking of it as an olive branch answered, "Thank you for having me. And, it's Hermione. You look beautiful. Happy birthday."

Hermione's words were rushed and breathless, but Narcissa kept up her smile and nodded happily as she thanked her. Hermione was a bit shocked and worried to see that happiness reflected in her eyes.

She must be really happy to have Draco home. Yeah, that's it. But why is she smiling at me then? She can't be happy to have me here. Oh shit, she must be planning something really awful? No, stop that! His mother was the semi-good parent, remember? And, breathe dammit!

Narcissa stepped back and laughed, "Well, I know two still have to change for the party and such, but your father and I do want to spend some time with you before the party. Will you join us in the green room for tea?"

Hermione nodded dumbly, but Draco answered for both of them, "Of course."

For a moment no one spoke. Then Narcissa's eyes rested on Hermione for a moment and she seemed to come to a decision, "Draco, go find your father and ring for tea for the four of us please? Hermione and I will be down shortly. I'd like some girl time."

"Mother, I…" he started only to be stopped by Hermione squeezing his hand.

"Draco," she smiled at him, "Go, say hello to Malf…your father. I'm sure Narcissa can show me the way."

He held her eye for a moment before he nodded. Then he leaned down to give her a kiss and squeezed her hand to show his support. He shot his mother a worried glance, but turned and left them alone.

Hermione knew she looked as stiff as she felt, but she couldn't make herself relax; her memories melded with her general worry and anxiety. But, instead of allowing them to crush her, she forced them to make her think more clearly, as she had done in the war. Her back straight, chin high, and eyes alert, she waited for the other woman to speak, her hand resting lightly on her wand pocket.

Narcissa flicked a blue-eyed glance at Hermione before she moved past her to the desk. She ran her hand over it and then rested there as she began to speak, "I want you to know that I do love my son. More so than I think he really understands. He is the best thing Lucius and I have ever done."

When she stopped and seemed unsure of what to say next, Hermione offered quietly, "He knows."

The older woman still didn't speak, but shook her head sadly and seemed lost in her memories.

Finally, Hermione squared her shoulders and asked, "Mrs. Mal…Narcissa, you wanted to speak to me alone. What is it you wanted to say?"

This brought those eyes back to Hermione as Narcissa turned to face her.

A soft smile lit her face as she took in Hermione's almost fighting stance and blazing eyes. "I know you don't want to be here agai…you don't want to be here."

"Well, I…"

Narcissa smiled, "No, please don't pretend to deny it. It's okay, really, with all that happened back when…well, I do understand. We do not know each other. But, there are a few things I do know about you, Hermione. And, it is because of those things I felt we should talk. Just you and me. Lucius was not made aware of my intention to speak to you, and it is up to you if you share this discussion with my son."

"Okay," Hermione answered. She didn't know where Narcissa was going, but she was willing to hear her out. She fingered her wand and bent her knees a bit to be ready to run or dodge whatever hex could be thrown.

I have my wand and know the way out! Bring it on, Lady!

"From all I have heard, read and…even experienced first hand, the first thing I know about you is that you are an exceptionally intelligent, very brave, young witch. And, as such, I am sure you have spent the past few days wondering what we might have planned that we would ask you here. So, let me assure you, since you did have the backbone to come, the only ulterior motive I had in asking Draco to bring you today was to get my son home for a little while for my birthday."

Hermione took note that Narcissa had said I, and not we, but held her tongue.

"That brings me to the second thing I know about you. I believe you to be a very good person."

When Hermione's eyes widened, Narcissa laughed, "Never thought you'd hear that from me, huh? But, there it is." Then she tilted her head and added thoughtfully, "My Draco is right, you do show your every thought quite clearly on that lovely face of yours."

She giggled like a young girl again at Hermione's shock, "Yes, my dear, that was a compliment. But, as my son has always had exquisite taste, that can't be much of a surprise to you. Now, back to my point, I know you are a good person because over the past few weeks, I have gotten my child back. Not, the angry young man he became, who he was turned into, but the happy boy I've missed so much. So much. Only a person who knows forgiveness and how to love could have brought that about. So, I thank you."

"Well, I, uh, okay, um, you're welcome, I guess," Hermione sputtered. The conversation had gone so far away from where Hermione had thought it would, that she could scarcely think.

Narcissa walked over to stand in front of Hermione and took her hand. She felt the younger woman stiffen, but admired her control as she didn't pull away. Control was something else Narcissa knew how to respect.

Hermione looked Narcissa in the eye and for a moment saw a bit of Draco's. They were softer, more blue, but the shape, intelligence, strength and admiration in them, made her blink.

"And, finally, the last thing I know about you, Hermione, and hope to see proven today. You are brave, strong, and will stand by your beliefs regardless of the odds. You fight for what you believe in with all you are. I…I respect and admire that."

She paused and tilted her head a little in thought before she finished, "There are many coming today who may challenge you; your friendships, your loyalties, your…heritage, your past, your right to be with my son. And, you should know that my husband may be included among them. I know he would not be as crass as to be too forthright with you, but others might. There is little Draco, nor I, can do to stop it. Lucius, I think, has accepted today as a kind of test. He wants to see what you are made of and expects you to fail, of course. But, he also has agreed to civility. He loves Draco in his own way and wants him happy. And, of course, Lucius would never again embarrass the family."

Hermione couldn't hold her tongue, "So, he expects me to just take his verbal abuse all day?! And, that of his friends?!"

"No," Narcissa laughed softly and a bit bitterly, "he expects you to be pushed anger. To leave. He expects you to act in a way that shows him you are not fit to be with his son. I ask you to not let that happen. As your birthday present to me, I ask that you show every one of them the woman my son loves and why. Show them your intelligence, humor and strength. Be the person I believe you to be."

Hermione saw nothing but sincerity in Narcissa's eyes and nodded.

"I will do my best," she answered slowly. Then she added, "But, Mrs. Ma…Narcissa, I will only take so much of their, pardon my wording, but crap."

Narcissa laughed and squeezed her hand, "As expected. And, Draco tells me you have a sharp tongue when needed, so I think you will be able to use it, along with that large mind of yours, to put anyone who oversteps in their place. And, it wouldn't hurt if you could remind my son to do the same. I think he will be pushed to his limits this evening as well."

Hermione nodded and smiled a little at the mother of the man she saw her future with. "Can I tell you a couple of things I know about you?"

Narcissa looked a bit surprised, but nodded as she asked, only half joking, "Should I sit down for this?"

"No, unless you want to," Hermione smiled at her.

"Go on."

"Okay, the one thing I know about you is that you were a good mother, at least for a time. I know that surprises you, as much as your compliments did me. But, Draco wouldn't be the man he is, one who knows how to respect, befriend and love, if he hadn't learned it from somewhere. From all he has told me, you were more than just his mother; you were his first teacher, his first friend, his support in his younger years. So, he must have learned it from you."

Hermione looked away from the eyes that suddenly shone with tears as she finished her thought, "I know he had a…rather harsh upbringing, that he changed as he got older, but the foundation was there, and you gave it to him. He loves you, and since I love him, I would like the chance to know you. To start again, I suppose."

"Thank you," Narcissa whispered.

Hermione's eyes met hers once again as she shook her head and smiled shyly. The she surprised herself and added, "No, thank you."

Hermione gave Narcissa a moment as the older woman looked away and blinked rapidly to force back her tears. When it looked like she had herself under control once again, Hermione continued.

"The second thing I know about you? You are a strong woman, too, Narcissa. I can't begin to comprehend all you have been through, the life you have led. And, I won't pretend to understand the choices you've made, but I know it takes a very strong person to withstand all you have with such forbearance and grace."

"Thank you again," Narcissa said, a bit stronger this time. "I do see what my Draco sees in you."

Hermione smiled and laughed a little to relieve some of her tension, "Well, that and my cooking."

"You know how to cook?" Narcissa asked in a bit of awe. "Well, there's something we could do together. If you wanted to that is…to maybe get to know one another better. I mean, you could, if you wanted to that is, maybe teach me a few things one day."

"I would be happy to," Hermione said. And, she surprised herself to realize it was more than a little true.

Hermione watched as Narcissa straightened and once again became Mrs. Malfoy. As often as she had seen Draco put on his façade, she now recognized it for what it was; their personal defense against the world.

Narcissa stepped closer and linked their arms as she led her from the room and down the stairs, "Okay, enough of this. Today is a day of celebration. It's my birthday and I have my son and his lovely girlfriend home with me. Nothing else but confidence, frivolity and smiles."

Hermione felt the last was more an order than a statement, but found that she didn't bristle at it, as she would have only an hour ago. She understood. Narcissa was assigning her her façade. They walked in companionable silence to the sitting room, but before they entered the room she heard Narcissa's sharp commanding whisper, "Stand tall and proud, Hermione. Remember, a Malfoy always stands their ground."

Wait! Did she just include me as a Mal…Okay, that's it. I AM dreaming all of this!

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Author's Note - Every read is a treasure, every review a gift. Thank you!
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