Draco was ridiculously comfortable.
His bed was warmed by the sun and his sheets were crisp. His apartment was entirely silent, other than the distant whirring of the refrigerator, and he had no intentions of getting up any time soon as it was a Saturday.
He had chosen to ignore all thoughts of the Ministry's ball, as well as the article that had appeared in the newspaper the following day with the rather large picture of Hermione Granger caught in a raunchy embrace with Charlie Weasley. He was also choosing to ignore the fact that his mother wanted him to woo the muggle born, as she put it, and the fact that he was meant to be at the Manor thirty minutes ago to visit his mother.
Instead, he just rolled over and released a wonderfully content sigh.
Following his sigh of happiness, three things happened at once: there was a loud crack that made him release a girlish trill, someone yanked his silk sheets from his body, and Narcissa Malfoy began to shriek at her son.
"Draco Abraxas Malfoy! What do you think you are doing? You were supposed to be at the Manor half an hour ago, and Miss Granger will be arriving in less than ten minutes. I expect you there in five minutes, fully dressed and looking impossibly decent, or so help me Salazar, I will make sure you never walk straight again," Narcissa snapped, waving her wand angrily so the curtains jerked open and Draco was blinded by the light. "Oh, good morning, by the way," she added smartly and disapparated with another loud crack.
Draco groaned at the intrusion of the light and stood, stumbling to the bathroom where he showered in three minutes flat before drying himself and pulling on some black pants and a white button-down shirt. In a grand total of six minutes he was ready and apparating to Malfoy Manor, where he was greeted sternly by his mother.
"You're a minute late," she chastised him and he rolled his eyes.
"Good morning, mother. You look lovely today," he said, hoping his sweet tone and compliment would let her forget his tardiness, though his compliment was true. It was bizarre to see his mother in muggle clothing, but he preferred the fashion to the billowing robes of the wizarding world. The pale tones she wore complimented her greatly.
"Thank you, dear. Now, Miss Granger will be here in approximately four minutes. We shall be outside in the rose garden, so I think you should be going for a leisurely stroll and just happen upon us at half past eleven. Keep in mind this is not up for discussion and you will be going for a leisurely stroll and you will happen upon us," she warned him and he rolled his eyes.
"Yes, mother. Now, I suppose I should start my walk now, as your companion will be here in around thirty seconds," he said and Narcissa nodded furiously, ushering him out.
Hermione frowned, staring at her wardrobe. She was supposed to be at Malfoy Manor in five minutes, but instead she was sitting cross-legged on the floor dressed only in her underthings, entirely unsure of what one was meant to wear for tea with Lady Narcissa Malfoy. Seeing as she was an elite pureblood witch, Hermione assumed her host would be in traditional wizarding garb, and she questioned whether or not she should do the same, but after flicking through her robes, the young brunette decided she had nothing decent enough to wear.
Now she simply had to decide on something to wear from the mountains of clothes which made up her muggle wardrobe in three minutes, or else risk being late for a meeting with one of England's most esteemed witches. With two minutes left she yanked a red dress from the closet and pulled it on, summoning a pair of black heels to go with it. It was classy and yet not overly formal and she wouldn't overheat in the warm weather.
One minute later she had apparated herself outside the gates of Malfoy Manor and was hurrying up the drive. She passed two white peacocks that looked at her curiously before continuing on their way and she frowned at the oddities the manor seemed to behold. At precisely eleven o'clock she raised her hand and knocked on the front doors which immediately swung open to reveal Lady Malfoy who was smiling.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," the older witch said pleasantly, and Hermione restrained a shiver. This whole situation was quite surreal, and though Narcissa had not been openly rude to her since the ending of the war, the pleasantries were still strange.
"Lady Malfoy, thank you for inviting me to your home," Hermione accepted Narcissa's outstretched hand.
"Please call me Narcissa. Lady Malfoy is far too formal for the occasion," Narcissa said, turning and walking from the front door which had swung shut upon Hermione's entrance. Hermione hurried to keep pace with the blonde witch, gaping at her muggle attire. It wasn't everyday that you saw a proud and elite pureblood witch, possibly the richest witch in Britain, wearing muggle clothing. Of course, they seemed designer. Hermione stifled a chuckle at the thought of the older witch in a pair of sweatpants and a jumper.
"We shall be having tea in the gardens. It's such a lovely time of year and my roses are doing splendidly. A little bit of magical fertilizer goes a long way," Narcissa said pointedly and Hermione nodded politely, following the witch through a posh sitting room and out large French doors until they reached the sweeping grounds.
"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed and Narcissa flashed her a dazzling smile.
"Thank you. My garden is where I devote most of my time. I was never one for indoor life," Narcissa admitted as they entered the rose garden where a quaint table was set for two people. Narcissa sat and waved Hermione to do the same, and once Hermione was seated a tray popped up on the table, laden with a large teapot, two little teacups and a plate of delicate pastries and sweets. "Tea?" Narcissa offered and Hermione nodded. Without lifting a finger there was tea in Hermione's cup and the young witch pursed her lips.
"I take it you have elves here?"
"Oh, yes," Narcissa said, quite unashamed. "We have three elves, one for each of us, though of course my Draco does not live on the estate any longer. His elf is there for him when he deems necessary, and whilst she is not occupied with his needs she helps the others. I do remember you were quite vocal about the treatment of house elves when you were leading your charity, were you not?"
"Indeed I was. I began my first endeavour to gain equal rights for house elves during my fourth year at Hogwarts, but of course I was just a child and no one was willing to listen. I'm very against their use as slaves in our world. In the muggle world no one would stand for it," Hermione pointed out and Narcissa nodded thoughtfully.
"Many of the house elves nowadays are not treated as slaves. We provide them with shelter, food, medical treatment should they fall ill, and anything else which they require. It is not as though we force them to do anything. Many of them do not even begin to accept the concept of freedom. It scares them, from what I've seen," Narcissa stated.
"They deserve proper education so they can understand what freedom and equal rights would give them. If people were willing to just donate a small amount of money then an education system could be put in place for them and all the other magical creatures which are exploited by wizards," Hermione frowned, sipping delicately at her tea. It was sweet, and she was reminded of violets and lilies at the taste.
"Of course, but what wizard would be willing to donate to that if they had such a loyal servant cooking them dinner?" Narcissa countered with a sly smile. "Miss Granger, you are such a refreshing person to talk to. Your in depth knowledge of nearly everything will never cause a dull conversation."
"Thank you, Narcissa. And please, call me Hermione. Miss Granger makes me feel old," Hermione smiled.
"Of course, Hermione. So, do tell me about your current occupation," Narcissa prompted, and Hermione launched into her description of the wizarding library and detailed her position fully.
"Of course it's very tiring, but I enjoy it ever so much. The research books which the library stocks are absolutely wonderful, and I'm one of the workers who hold presentations to members of the public so I'm given the opportunity to handle books which haven't been touched in centuries. Last week I granted a presentation to a private audience on magical torture methods of the eleventh century. The contents of the book was absolutely ghastly, not to mention the fact that it was bound in human skin, but it was still devastatingly fascinating," Hermione explained and Narcissa nodded, genuinely interested. Hermione flushed with happiness. She rarely came across someone who was willing to listen to her rambles and still be attentive.
"I believe we have some similar texts in our library here, though of course they are not quite as old," Narcissa said and Hermione's face broke out into a wide smile. "I can show you the library after tea if you would like."
"That would be wonderful, Narcissa!" Hermione beamed and the blonde witch couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, causing a flush to rise in Hermione's cheeks.
"Now, now, no need to be embarrassed, Hermione," drawled an unfortunately familiar voice, and Hermione stiffened. "Hello, mother," Draco murmured, kissing his mother's cheek and conjuring a chair with a flick of his wand. "Good morning, Hermione," he added smoothly and she tried not to scowl.
"Ah, Draco. So nice to see you. I thought you were with your father in his study," Narcissa frowned, dabbing at her mouth delicately with a white napkin. Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that Draco had been hovering around nearby for the entirety of their conversation.
"Father and I ended ten minutes ago and I decided to go for a stroll before I headed back to my apartment," he explained, taking a miniature raspberry tart from the plate of pastries.
"How lovely. Hermione and I were just talking about her work at the library in Diagon Alley. A job which seems very fitting for such a knowledgeable young lady, don't you agree?" Narcissa queried and Hermione watched as Draco's tongue darted out to catch a spot of cream that had caught on his lips. Despite the heat of the sun, she shivered.
"I most certainly do agree, mother. Hermione has always been one for the books," he stated casually, finishing the tart and wiping his fingers on a napkin. "Though, I always thought you would pursue a path in the Ministry, perhaps our country's second female Minister for Magic."
"Third, actually," Hermione corrected him. "Artemisia Lufkin was the first female Minister in 1798, and then Millicent Bagnold was the second in 1980. Professor Binns talked about it during our fifth year History of Magic lessons. But I was never suited for politics. Besides, I doubt the vast majority of the wizarding population would approve of a muggle-born as the Minister for Magic."
"If the wizarding population had any sense whatsoever then they would appoint anyone as intelligent as you to the position of Minister for Magic, regardless of blood status," Narcissa said, observing the tension between her companions. Hermione quirked a brow at the statement but remained silent, questioning the comparison between what Narcissa just said to her years of obsession with blood status. "Now, if you are looking for something more substantial to eat then we can move to the dining room for some lunch."
Without waiting for an answer the older witch stood and swept away gracefully, expecting Hermione and Draco to follow her without hesitation. Hermione did so because she wasn't particularly keen on the idea of being stuck with Draco. Draco followed simply because he was bored and he knew his mother would be upset if he just left.
Hermione nodded absently as Narcissa talked on and on about the gardens and the history behind the grounds, not really paying attention. She still couldn't let her guard down with Draco hovering behind her, and she jumped slightly when he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her in the right direction when she strayed. His touch seemed to send a shock through her system at even the briefest moment of contact, and she didn't like it one bit.
"Hermione, please sit. Lunch will be served momentarily," Narcissa said airily when they reached the dining room. The walls were painted a light green and the floors were dark wood, the centre of the room taken up by a long table. Hermione and Draco sat whilst Narcissa glided from the room, leaving the two rivals in an awkward silence.
"Listen, Hermione-," Draco began, but she cut him off.
"Why do you keep calling me Hermione? You've always called me Granger or worse, so why the change of heart?" she couldn't keep the anger from her voice and he frowned.
"We're no longer children," he spoke slowly and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "I figure that seeing as we are both adults, we may as well act like adults."
Hermione snorted in a very unladylike manner. "We were old enough to act like adults when we were sixteen, Malfoy, and yet you never did back then."
"No, because I was a brainless buffoon when I sixteen and still believed in all of the blood-purity rubbish the Dark Lord spouted. Look, Hermione, I'm simply trying to be civil. My mother wishes to become close friends with you and she feels that I should put our differences aside and be diplomatic," he stated and she frowned. "Besides, calling me Malfoy in Malfoy Manor may be a touch confusing seeing as there are three of us here at this point."
Her eyes narrowed in response and she crossed her arms, resisting the urge to pout. He raised an amused brow at her antics but said nothing, instead choosing to inspect his perfectly rounded fingernails as silence settled upon the two.
"Miss Granger," said a new voice and Hermione jumped, recognizing the cold tones of Lucius Malfoy.
"Lord Malfoy," she said, jumping to her feet. She extended her hand but he looked at it with emotionless eyes until she dropped it by her side once more. Unlike his wife, he did not ask her to drop the formalities. Narcissa frowned at her husband but remained silent and they all sat. As soon as Lucius was seated at the head of the table, food appeared on their plates, and they fell into awkward conversation.
Hermione was grateful that she had managed to escape Malfoy Manor at two o'clock.
Since lunchtime the whole affair had been awkward, the only conversation revolved around the passing of various condiments and foods around the table. Narcissa thought magic at the table to be rude.
Now she was walking down a sunny Muggle street, dressed in shorts and a jacket, on her way to meet Charlie for coffee. This was what she preferred. It was a dress down, casual, comfortable arrangement where the two of them could really go over their 'relationship', or whatever the hell it was at this point.
She could see Charlie leaning casually against a wall up ahead, waiting patiently for her arrival and she quickened her pace, waving to him. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Hey," she smiled and pressed her lips to his. He returned the kiss eagerly. "Shall we get some coffee?"
"Sounds good to me," he took her hand and allowed her to lead them into the cafe to order their drinks before the two returned outside, sitting at a table that was bathed in warm sunlight. "How are you?" he asked.
"I'm good. Sorry for running away at the ball," she said sheepishly and he chuckled, running a callused hand through his red hair. "What have you been up to?"
"Packing," he admitted and she frowned.
"Why are you packing?"
"I have to go back to Romania, Hermione," he murmured, his eyes sad. She could feel a lump forming in her throat. "One of the Hungarian Horntail females has gotten sick. We need her for the next breeding season, and they need me to help heal her."
"Oh," Hermione breathed. She didn't trust herself to say anything more than that.
"I didn't expect that anything would happen when I was here, and I can't give up my work," Charlie said softly, reaching out to place his hand on her own. She pulled her own back and wiped it across her face, brushing her palm against a drop of moisture that had fallen from her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Forget about it. It was stupid of me to think that something would happen," she let out a humourless laugh and coughed to clear the lump in her throat.
"Hermione, I really don't want to leave you, but I don't have a choice. If you're up for it then I still want us to be together."
"A long distance relationship?" she asked bitterly as the waitress arrived with their coffees. Sensing the tense atmosphere the muggle woman hurriedly left. "Long distance relationships never work out."
"We can still try," Charlie said, his tone almost pleading.
"I don't want to set myself up for heartbreak," she said with an air of finality. "When do you leave?"
"Monday morning," he said with a defeated sigh. "My portkey leaves at ten that morning."
"That's nice," she muttered, draining the last of her coffee. "I have to go. I'm sorry this didn't work out. I'll see you around, Charlie."
Willing herself to keep it together, the brunette stood and turned to go. She tried to pull away when Charlie captured her hand in his own but to no avail.
"Hermione. Please know that I'm so sorry for this. I'm coming back from Romania for good in three months, if you still want me," he offered and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. She felt more tears well in her eyes and just nodded at him. She pried her hand from his grasp and turned to leave once more, this time for good.
A/N: I'm sorry! This was far later than I had hoped, but I have good reason. I've been working on my own fiction lately and also studying like mad for exams, which are on Monday and it is currently Saturday. For this reason, I'm not going to be updating until Wednesday at the earliest. This is much shorter than I had planned it to be, but I really just wanted to get a chapter out to you lovely readers. And now that Charlie is gone, we can have some wonderful Draco/Hermione fun! ;D
Please review!