Chapter 32

It was Sunday morning, a day Hermione had been dreading. She had pointedly stayed in yesterday, Rita Skeeter's article about her had been brutal. It had said, with the odd euphemism here and there, that while Hermione Granger had no immediately discernible talents or grace, she obviously possessed ample private talents, enough to snare the most eligible young men in the wizard world. Basically she was a slut, who's talents resulted in interests and fleeting loyalty.

It had only made Draco laugh and assure her that her talents were indeed very real. She guessed there was nothing like being broadcast to all and sundry as being good in bed. She might even have laughed about it if it hadn't come out the day before she was obliged to meet his parents. No that she hadn't met them, they'd tortured her in their house, as a matter of fact. They 'd already shared some meaningful moments together, she thought to herself sarcastically.

Today would likely just be another form of torture. Unless they whipped out their wands and crucioed her all over again. She'd probably be more comfortable right now if she was told that they would crucio her for half an hour, at least that way she knew what to expect.

Draco was not concerned in the least. He didn't show it if he was. Hermione lay on the bed with a muggle science magazine and listened to Draco in the shower. She'd join him but she was just too nervous about the day and it left her with an uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Feeling too apprehensive to be distracted by Draco's water soaked skin. She just wanted it to be over, then she would go home and an spend an inordinate amount of time with Draco's skin. Suffering first, reward later.

She watched Draco dress in the black suit he tended to wear at more official pureblood occasions. He wore it whenever he needed to represent his family or his position. He was just so incredibly beautiful, the austerity of the look only complemented the beauty.

"You need to get dressed," he said and looked at her on the bed. She could successfully get him out of that suit again, she knew it. Part of her wanted to on the off chance that he would forget about this stupid meeting with his parents. "We shouldn't be late."

That got her going. Draco was usually laid back about all appointments, so if he insisted on being on time, it likely meant that there would be hell to pay if they weren't. She dressed in a navy dress. Draco had suggested it yesterday. Informal attire would not be appreciated. She really wanted to make a good impression, she just wasn't as convinced at Draco that it was entirely possible.

She tied her hair back in a loose bun, it tamed the wildness a bit without making her look like a severe matron. She dabbed on a little lip gloss and was ready.

"Shall we," he said and waited for her to step into his arms for the side along apparation. She was constantly surprised by the intimacy of the act of the side along apparation, especially between a couple. She had to completely put herself in his hands and he would guide her, hopefully without cutting any of her limbs off.

They arrived inside the manor. It had been less jovial circumstances since she'd been there last, but she recognised the interior all the same. There were clicking heels on marble for their left.

"Draco, darling," the refined voice of Narcissa Malfoy said. "And your guest. Miss Hermione Granger I believe. This is a surprise."

Hermione felt a jolt of anguish. He hadn't told them it was her that he was bringing. Why hadn't he told them, he should have paved the way.

"Come into the dining room, your father is waiting."

Draco gently tugged her along. Hermione was dreading every step, trying to seek assurance from him. How could he have done this, just sprung her on them, and them on her?

They walked into the dining room and Hermione tried her very best to look calm and collected. Lucius Malfoy was standing next to the window and he turned as they entered. His eyes perused them until they settled on her. There was no reaction in his face, then the tiniest half smile which had more to do with an internal dialogue than it did a greeting.

"Miss Granger," he said icily, "welcome to Malfoy Manor. Our home. You've been before, of course, although it was an unexpected visit, we didn't have the chance to welcome you." Hermione smiled, he didn't return it. She suspected the welcome she got last time might be a little more honest.

"Sit," Narcissa said indicating them towards the dining table. It was set with silver and crystal, none of which looked like it had been produced in the last century or so. "So what is it you do, Miss Granger? I believe you have an occupation unless I am mistaken," Narcissa continued.

"I work at the Ministry, with regulatory and affairs," Hermione said trying to make herself sound as neat and concise as possible. She smiled and looked at the older woman who sat with perfect posture and poise. Poise, a word that Hermione didn't think was even relevant in today's world, but there it was sitting on the other side of the table, surveying her. Judging her.

"How tedious," Narcissa said. "All those drab ministry types, I am sure they try your patience."

That was true, they did. Hermione only smiled. She wasn't going to start complaining about her job. In fact, she couldn't think of any topic that she felt comfortable discussing in this company. Lucius Malfoy was watching her coolly, running his finger tip along a shiny silver dinner knife. She wondered if he was considering grabbing it and stabbing her right there and then. Unfortunately she couldn't completely put it past him considering their somewhat adversarial past history.

Food appeared on the table. A rich looking beef wellington, with a thick sauce. They obviously had someone talented cooking for them. Narcissa took up the task of carving. She served the food and the claret. Hermione got the feeling that she always did as Lucius Malfoy made no effort to assist.

The food was delicious. It was rich and flavourful. The beef practically melted on her tongue. The sauce was pretty much just flavoured butter. She dreaded to think the calories she'd just consumed. She would just have to find some way to engage in some cardio later, she had some ideas in mind, but then chided herself of thinking such thoughts in front of his parents. His mother could probably see the direction her thoughts.

After the meal was finished, Lucius dismissed himself. He kissed Narcissa high on her temple and left without another word. Hermione had to admit the atmosphere felt lighter with him gone.

"We should have a chat, just us girls," Narcissa said. "Why don't you seek out your father, Draco." A silent moment passed between mother and son. Hermione knew there was some communication between them, but she didn't know what.

"Don't be long," Draco said. "We must leave soon."

"Of course," Narcissa said, but Hermione got the feeling Narcissa would pay little attention to their time constraints. "Now come, let's walk. I will show you some of the house."

Draco squeezed her hand and left the room. Narcissa started walking towards the door in the other direction and Hermione had to jump to in order to keep up.

"I have lived in this house since I was young," Narcissa. "Came here as a bride. The marriage had been arranged several years prior." Hermione tried to think what that would feel like, being engaged to Lucius Malfoy and arriving at this house as a bride. She couldn't imagine. It didn't seem a pleasant prospect. "This is an old family, its traditions extend back centuries. How long have you been seeing each other?" She said and turned towards her.

"A few months," she said feeling intensely uncomfortable and challenged, like she was a fox that had snuck into the chicken coup.

"We gave Draco leeway to choose his own bride," Narcissa said. "We believed it would make it easier for him, but it has proven to be a mistake." Hermione frowned at the direct insult. "Don't take that the wrong way, I do not have resentment towards your kind, which may surprise you considering who I am married to, but you are unsuitable to be a wife to a Malfoy."

"Compatibility is perhaps best to be judged by the parties within the relationship," Hermione said strongly.

"Compatibility perhaps, suitability is another thing," Narcissa said. "Pureblood wives are born and bred to be such. They know their position from a very early age."

Hermione crossed her arms, "And what position would that be?"

"Beneath the man," Narcissa said. She stepped closer and Hermione watched suspiciously as Narcissa slowly reached up and touched one of her curls. "You are very pretty, I can see why Draco is infatuated with you. But you are very head strong. As a Malfoy wife, it is ones duty to safe guard the legacy of this family, its traditions and ways. One lives for one's husband, one's family. And for no other reason." Narcissa turned down the hall again. There was no malice in her tone, it was just a matter of fact statement.

Hermione was confused, she didn't quite understand as Narcissa seemed to be saying contradictory things.

"You have been raised differently," Narcissa finally said. "I am not sure you would make a happy adjustment."

Things were starting to fall into place for Hermione. Narcissa was talking about the expectations that would be on her. She hadn't really thought about it before. A future with Draco would come with restrictions, duties and sacrifices. She hadn't really questioned if she was prepared to make sacrifices. She had been raised to believe she shouldn't compromise. She could have it all. She certainly had never been raised to accept that she was 'beneath the man'. It had never crossed her consciousness. It was just too old fashioned to seriously contemplate. Wasn't it?

She thought about the slytherin girls, surely they were not thinking along those lines. Pansy surely wasn't, being the complete she-bitch that she was. The others…actually they were typically more sedate. Actually now that she thought about it, it was the guys that ran the circle. The girls suggested, but it was the guys that decided. They took the girls shopping, they decided on the dinner, sometimes they even ordered for them. Why hadn't she seen it?

Suddenly she saw Pansy in a slightly different light, still a complete bitch, but there was this desperation in her, striving to remain afloat. Her strength tolerated, but not celebrated. She never thought she'd actually feel sympathy for Pansy, but maybe she did a little. Pansy was breaking traditions, breaking expectations. Stuck in the turmoil of the new overturning the old.

There was a real disconnect between this generation and the one before, Hermione realised. The more she got to know the slytherins and their society, the complexities and discordance became more visible. They weren't just a bunch of arrogant snobs; there were pressures from every direction. Particularly on the girls, pressure to conform to the old ways. Maybe Pansy was a bit of a trail blazer. Who would have thought. Slytherin girls who chose other ways in the past had been ostracised, like Andromeda.

Draco was going another way, choosing a different path, but he was too ingrained to be ostracised. She wasn't entirely sure he cared even if he was being censured. Narcissa Malfoy just didn't understand that they were choosing a different path, a path that was more true and authentic to their needs. As things should be.