A/N : No author's note today, folks! See you at the end of this chapter. :)

"It's about time, Archimedes; where have you been? It feels like ages since you left with my letter to Daph….what's this?"

The owl had flown in through the open window and landed gracefully in the middle of the breakfast table, right between the eggs and the toast. It dropped a small package on the pretty blonde girl's still-empty plate before nipping a bit of toast in its beak and soaring off through the window once more.

The girl ripped open the package, only to find a small, nondescript bottle full of clear liquid.

"Hmph," she pouted, dropping it carelessly on the table and jutting out her lower lip slightly. Then her eyes fell on the small scroll that had accompanied the package; she tore into it eagerly.

Astoria, it read,

The enclosed bottle of potion is extremely important - BE CAREFUL WITH IT. It was brewed especially for this occasion, and may be the catalyst that sets our plan in motion.

Never mind what it is. Simply take it to the enclosed address and have a house elf put it in Draco's coffee TOMORROW MORNING.

Don't forget, Astoria, our future is riding on this tiny bottle of potion.

Your sister,

Daphne

"Oh, all right," Astoria sniffed as she scanned the letter once more. "You don't have to be so pushy about it, you know."

She took the slip containing the address her sister had provided and carefully tucked it into her pocket. Then she picked up the small vial of liquid and examined it more carefully.

"I wonder what it is," she mused, turning it slowly in her hands. The potion inside glinted in a sinister way as the sunlight touched it. Astoria smiled.

Soon she would have what she desired, and nothing was going to stop her.

The morning dawned bright and clear. The sunlight filtered cheerfully though the curtains; a bird sang merrily on the outside ledge of the window. It was a beautiful morning, and the sunshine that landed softly on Hermione's pillow should have been a beautiful way to wake up.

If she hadn't already been awake since four thirty that morning, that is.

She was completely beside herself making preparations for the day. For it was a very important day.

Today was the day that Draco was finally going to meet her parents - her adoptive parents, that is - the Grangers, the people who had raised her and loved her and - well, this was a red-letter day.

And she was nervous. And excited. And hopeful that they would all like each other. And completely, utterly terrified that they wouldn't.

There was so much to be done to get ready for today. They were going to arrive in the Muggle way, so as to make the best possible impression on her parents as they could. Of course her parents knew all about the wizarding world, but Hermione thought that it would shock them a bit less if she and Draco didn't come popping out of thin air or stepping out of green flames onto the family room carpet or anything.

They were going to get enough of a shock as it was.

Because, you see, well, they didn't exactly know about Hermione being engaged.

Of course she had told them before, when she had seen no way out of the magically binding contract she'd unknowingly entered into with Draco the year before. There really hadn't been much of a way around the cursed ring that wouldn't come off unless they actually got married. They only other way out was death, and of course Draco had taken care of that nicely when he jumped off of that building…

The point was, she told them before, but then when all of that had happened and the contract had been broken, she'd told them there wasn't going to be a wedding in their futures after all.

And if that wasn't confusing enough, she still hadn't talked to them about Draco proposing - for real, this time - on her birthday a few months ago.

But there was really no putting it off any longer.

So a few weeks ago, she'd sat down with Draco and they'd talked about telling her parents. Together.

Draco hadn't taken so well to the idea, but in the end, Hermione had convinced him, and they'd set the date to visit them and tell them. The date that had loomed over Hermione's every waking moment for the past few weeks, and was now finally - horribly - upon them at last.

She had already picked out the suit of clothes that she wanted Draco to wear. He had fought with her tooth and nail on that one, saying of course he had enough sense to dress himself (and he did), but Hermione still insisted on going with him to Muggle London so that she could have the final word on the clothes he was buying to wear.

She just wanted everything to be perfect, that's all.

She had arranged for a taxi to pick them up in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Draco had tried to convince her to let him get the limo again, but she had flatly refused. Her parents were simple people, she told him, and there was no reason to be ostentatious in any case.

She had cleared it a week ago with her parents, so now all that really remained was to pick out the clothes that she was going to wear today.

There were five different outfits lying on her living room sofa, each one pretty and completely appropriate, and yet hopelessly wrong at the same time.

The first was a simple black dress. Hermione thought it made her look sophisticated and grown-up, like the kind of person who was perfectly capable of making an important decision like whether or not to get married. She stuck her tongue out at it. Black, the color of disappointment and mourning. She didn't want to give her parents any ideas.

The second was a simple white sweater with a pair of khaki pants. It was comfortable, appropriate, and, most importantly, white. White was pure and innocent, exactly what she would want her father to think of her as when she was sitting next to Draco. But somehow, white seemed wrong. It might make her parents edgy and start thinking about wedding bells too soon. Before she had softened them up.

The third was a red button-up shirt with a pair of dark wash blue jeans. Casual, so as not to freak them out. But red? Her father might get the wrong idea.

Fourth came a green v-neck sweater and a pair of black slacks. She knew Draco would smirk at seeing her in green, and that he would love the outfit right away because of the way the black pants fit across her seat. But Hermione's mother didn't like the way green looked against Hermione's skin, she'd told her so plenty of times when they went shopping together. So that one was probably out.

The last outfit was probably the closest thing to perfect that her closet could offer her. It was a blue sweater, with thin lines of brown woven through it, the exact color of her eyes, and a pair of dark brown khaki pants. How many times had Draco said that particular shade of blue brought out the honey highlights in her hair? And hadn't her father once told her that he liked to see her wearing that very sweater?

Perfect.

By the time she had finally decided what to wear, it was already nine o'clock. She was due to meet Draco at ten outside her apartment building. She showered quickly and dressing, feeling more apprehensive as the seconds ticked away, bringing her closer and closer to the dreaded meeting.

She was ready with ten minutes to spare, and decided to go down anyway because the chances were good that Draco was already there and waiting for her. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of calling her late today, she mused, chuckling under her breath as she boarded the lift.

When she got to the lobby, she expected him to be leaning casually on the desk, hands in his pockets, looking completely at his ease and as if he owned everything in sight. That was how she usually found him, at least.

But he wasn't there.

Funny, she thought, but decided not to worry about it just yet. He was probably outside; it was such a beautiful morning.

When she walked out the big glass doors, though, there was no one on the sidewalk this Saturday morning except for a young woman and her small son, out for a morning stroll.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she went over the events of last night in her head.

Draco had come over to her apartment, and they had spent the evening in, talking about the next day and then eventually…not….talking. By the time she'd finally forced him to leave, they were both breathing a bit too quickly and of course not thinking of anything remotely along the lines of lunch with her parents the next day. But that wouldn't be cause for him to forget, would it?

He wasn't - mad - was he? Not after all this time, surely? He knew where she stood on the whole sex thing. It wasn't as if she didn't want to do that with him, but she just kind of wanted to be married first. What was so wrong with that? And he'd always respected her wishes before, completely and fully. Sometimes too well, she thought with a wry smile. Besides, he didn't seem angry when he left.

So that couldn't be it. And it certainly wasn't like Draco to be late. Wasn't he always harping on her about making them late for things, even when she almost always was ready on time, if not early?

So if he wasn't mad and he didn't forget and he wasn't late, then what was going on?

He wasn't…couldn't be…hurt? Had something happened to him? Why wasn't he here by now?

Hermione glanced down at her watch. It was now fifteen minutes past ten, and everything in her told her that there was something terribly wrong.

A/N 2 : So. I've only gotten ONE suggestion for a name for this story, people! Please pretty please with a cherry on top? Oh, and I decided no chapter previews this time around. Sorry to those of you who wanted them! Also, I promise to update on Wednesday. I just do. No reason. I just want to get more chapters posted! :D