A/N : Wow. I am so ashamed of myself. I haven't updated in AGES. I have no real excuse except for the fact that my files were on my ancient computer (which is not wireless internet compatible) and I couldn't get them onto my laptop. Finally figured out a way to do it, which involved putting them on a floppy disk (told you it was ancient) and then finding a computer with both a floppy drive and a USB port (acutally a pretty daunting task; it took a while) and then transferring the files from the USB drive to my laptop. Altogether a rather tedious and drawn-out process. The only other option was typing it all out by hand, and THAT was not going to happen, not with November being such a busy month for me.
BTW, I tried doing Nanowrimo, for those of you who know what that is, but I completely gave up about a week and a half into it. I fully plan on finishing my "novel," because that story wants out, but it won't be in time for the end of November. I was slightly bummed at that. :( But anyway. You guys don't really care about all of that, do you? Here is the next installment, and I promise to update again next week, at which time I will reveal the new name of this story, yay! I'm excited; are you excited?
"Argh!"
A tower of books and papers, quills and inkwells scattered from the desk to the floor.
"Honestly, Astoria, you can be so…overdramatic."
"How can you sit there so calmly when our chances have just gone up in smoke?" Astoria screeched at her sister, who was sitting serenely in her comfortable chair, reading a book.
"You forget, my dear, that the game isn't over yet," Daphne replied, casually flipping a page and sighing.
"So you have a plan?"
Daphne shut the large book with a snap and surveyed her sister over the top of it as she held it to her chin.
"As it happens, I barely had to try this time…it seems as though luck has been with us these past few weeks." She pulled a slip of paper from between the pages of her book and turned it over in her hands carefully. Then she sent it soaring across the room, flying much farther and more quickly than it should have been capable of doing. Astoria caught it easily.
"What's this? An invitation to tea? What's so special about it?"
"Again, Astoria, you prove yourself to be extraordinarily unobservant. Have you not noted whom the invitation is from?"
Astoria gave the invitation another irritated glance, and her eyes grew large with realization.
"How did you manage to come across this?"
"As it happens, my dear sister, it was delivered to me just this afternoon. Apparently, Draco's grandmother is no happier about his choice than we are."
"The invitation only says 'Miss Greengrass;' which one of us will go?" Astoria asked hopefully.
"I shall go, obviously," Daphne asked before the question was even fully out of her sister's mouth. At Astoria's angry and incredulous expression, she added, "Because you are more important for the second phase of the plan, remember? We can't take the chance of him finding us out. We must be careful about this, sister!"
The other girl's face fell, but she sighed.
"You are, of course, right as usual, dear sister," she mumbled, crumpling the invitation in her fist. She turned on her heel and stormed from the room.
Draco woke that morning with an uneasy feeling in the depths of his stomach. He didn't know why, but he felt as if something very…wrong were going to happen this day. But that was ridiculous, of course. Today was just an ordinary day.
He dressed in the bright, cheery morning light, and he was sure now that his feeling of foreboding must have simply been the remnants of some bad dream he'd had the night before. Nothing bad could happen on a day such as this.
He whistled as he strode into his kitchen, ignoring the morning paper that was laid across his empty breakfast plate and reaching instead for an apple from the bowl that sat on the edge of the counter. When he turned to the table at last, he noticed a thick square of parchment paper sitting on top of the Daily Prophet.
It was an invitation to tea with Grandmother Malfoy.
He almost crushed it under his heel and set it on fire. But then he remembered his manners. It would be rude to ignore this invitation, even if he dearly wanted to forget his grandmother even existed. Hadn't he been raised better than that?
Still. He thought about how rude the woman had been to Hermione, and the things she had said, and his blood began to boil in his veins. No. He would not go there and subject Hermione to that - woman - ever again.
He glanced at the invitation again, pulling his wand from his pocket as he did so. It wouldn't really hurt anything to set it on fire, and it would definitely make him feel better. But something caught his eye before he could mutter the spell.
There was only one name. His.
The last invitation had clearly been for both of them, and yet this one was solely for him. It made him wonder. Was Grandmother Malfoy going to disown him after all? Had she changed her mind about Hermione, or was she simply going to try and talk him out of marrying her behind Hermione's back?
Whatever it was, his curiosity was piqued. At the very least, he would go there and tell his grandmother to sod off and mind her own business, inheritance be damned.
The day seemed to drag after that. He had some business to attend to in Diagon Alley, and that helped pass the time, but he was anxious and impatient now. He wanted to get this over with.
Afternoon finally arrived, and Draco Apparated to the Manor with a feeling bordering on relief. At least this would soon be over.
He could hear voices coming from the drawing room as soon as he set foot in the great entrance hall. One voice belonged to his grandmother, but the other one…
Suddenly he didn't feel so relieved anymore. Who else was here? The other, feminine voice was soft and delicate, yet still managed to carry into the hall where Draco stood, momentarily frozen. There was something about that voice that was familiar…
"I believe I hear Draco in the hallway," Grandmother Malfoy said suddenly. "I'm afraid we've caught him off-guard…Draco, darling, come here, please."
A cold hand seemed to clench inside Draco's stomach. Here was the foreboding feeling again. No, no, he was just being silly. He steeled himself, and walked through the door.
"Darling, you must forgive an old woman; I didn't realize until it was too late that I had invited you both on the same day," his grandmother drawled, looking much too innocent as she gestured toward the pretty blonde girl sitting opposite her.
Now Draco realized why the voice had been so familiar. This girl had been in his house at Hogwarts…Greengrass, if he remembered correctly.
"You remember Daphne, of course, don't you darling?"
Draco quickly regained his composure and pasted a charming smile across his face as he reached out a hand to the girl. She took it gracefully and smiled back.
"Yes, of course I remember Daphne," he added politely. Grandmother Malfoy motioned for him to sit next to the girl on the comfortable sofa directly across from herself. Having no other choice, he sat.
"Well, now, isn't this cozy?"
Draco resisted the urge to laugh out loud. It was horribly uncomfortable, that's what it was. He'd never really spoken to this girl who sat beside him, other than polite words of greeting whenever they were pushed together in the same place, like now.
The worst part was that now he wouldn't have the opportunity to tell his grandmother exactly what he thought of her earlier actions…it would be inappropriate to do so in front of company.
"Daphne was just telling me all about studying abroad last year," Grandmother Malfoy continued. "Why don't you tell Draco that charming story of how you ended up lost in Cairo? I'm afraid I have to leave you two for just a moment; there was something I needed to speak with Narcissa about earlier and I've just remembered…" she trailed off as she stood, and Draco stood as well, shooting daggers at her with his eyes.
As soon as she was gone from the room, Draco collapsed back onto the sofa and sighed. Daphne chuckled.
"I think this was her plan all along," she said sheepishly. "I honestly had no idea what she was up to until a few minutes before you arrived, otherwise I wouldn't have come," she added with an apologetic smile. Draco couldn't help but smile back.
"I see that there is no low that Grandmother won't stoop to in order to get her way," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry that you had to be a part of this."
"Don't worry about it. It was either this or my cousin's piano recital, anyway," Daphne added with a laugh. At least she's not in on it, Draco thought, relieved.
"Somehow I get the feeling that she doesn't want me to get married," he replied sarcastically.
"You can't make everyone happy," Daphne said with a smile. She flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and turned on the sofa so she was facing him. "So, you and Granger? Who would have thought?"
Draco laughed. "I know. I certainly would have never believed it. But…"
"You love her?" It was a question.
"Yes." Fiercely. Daphne's eyes grew a fraction wider, but she smiled.
"Then you don't have anything to worry about. If she loves you, too, then you'll be able to get past your family's hating her."
"They don't all hate her," Draco replied, almost growled. He immediately regretted the intensity of his comment when he saw the girl's reaction. She frowned.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply -"
"That's all right. I'm sorry. It's just…well, you're more right than you know. My mother is the only one who really approves of Hermione. They get on really well. But Father? There are just some prejudices that run too deep to be overcome so easily."
"But…what is it they say? 'Love conquers all,' right?"
"I hope so."
"Aren't you sure?"
Draco studied his hands.
"I used to be…more sure. I'm starting to wonder. I hate putting her through this. It isn't fair. She should be able to get married to some bloke whose family will welcome her with open arms, you know?" He didn't know why he was finally voicing these long-repressed feelings now, especially not to this girl whom he barely knew. But once he began, he found he couldn't stop.
"You think you aren't good enough for her?" Daphne replied with a smile in her voice. Draco glanced up at her. She seemed to be repressing laughter. His eyebrows drew together.
"I meant no offense," she amended quickly. "I simply meant that I never imagined those words coming out of your mouth. Draco Malfoy thinking a girl is too good for him? It feels like an alternate universe."
Draco had to smile. She did have a point. Things were so different now.
"Thanks for listening, Daphne."
"You're welcome."
"You know, I'm really kind of glad Grandmother forced us here today."
"Me, too."
"Draco?" A completely different voice, coming from the doorway and sounding upset, caused Draco to whirl around on the sofa and rise quickly to his feet.
Hermione, standing on the threshold, clutching a square of parchment identical to the one Draco had wanted to set on fire this morning. Looking uncertain and hurt.
He had been set up.
Maybe that was too conspiratorial-sounding for what had happened. Either way, Hermione was hurting, and it had been his own careless, stupid, blundering fault.
Grandmother Malfoy appeared in the doorway just behind Hermione at that moment, before Draco could even speak the cliché-d words that were screaming in his head: This isn't what it looks like!
"Hermione, darling! What a surprise! I thought I put four o'clock on your invitation…silly me, I must have scheduled you too early. So sorry, dear. But where are my manners? I'm sure you remember Daphne Greengrass, don't you dear? I believe she was in your year. She and darling Draco were just catching up, weren't you? I didn't like to bother them when they seemed so deep in conversation…"
During the course of Grandmother Malfoy's speech, Hermione's face began to drain slowly of color. By the end of it, her skin was a deathly pale, and her features were no longer hurt and confused. No, she was angry. Furious.
"So sorry to interrupt," she finally spat towards Draco and the girl, who had not risen from the sofa, but looked properly horrified. "I'll not interfere any longer."
She turned to leave, then stopped and threw one last horrible look at Draco. She didn't say anything, but her message in her eyes was as clear as if she'd yelled it at him, which might have actually been preferable in this instance.
It was over. There was no coming back from this. She would never believe that he hadn't come here of his own accord to meet the girl. She was going to end it.
And he had to stop her.
A/N 2 : I really don't have anything interesting to say here. I'm just addicted to author's notes. :D