Draco looked over the stack of clippings in satisfaction, tracing the timeline in his mind. It was going to work out more perfectly than he would have believed.
The invitation had come by owl just the night before, a black and white ball to benefit the war orphans fund, hosted by none other than Evmira Pettiwig, one of the most feared and respected matrons of the wizarding world. A right old snob and complete termagent, Evmira was also a shameless pursuer of high drama, and when it was brought to her attention that one of the main contributors to her fund, through several straw men and shell corporations, was none other than Draco Malfoy, the headline catching, former death eater, well, that was too good to pass up. She had sent an invitation forthwith, more demanding his prescence than requesting it, waiting with baited breath to see if he would show, and if so, what wonderful sparks of conflict would entertain her at his appearance.
The guests were all noteworthy, from stars, politicians, independently wealthy entrepreneur wizards to old money purebloods trying to buy their way back into society. Evmira personally thought that was exactly what the Malfoy boy was attempting to do as well, but had to admire the lengths he had gone to for it to seem that he was attempting to make anonymous recompense for his familys involvement with the Dark Lord. A Slytherin alumnus herself, she appreciated that the most subtle of moves were the ones that had the most effect, and respected the level of sophistication that showed in such a young wizard. She was unsure what he was attempting to do with the Muggleborn chit he paraded about on his arm like the most precious of treasures, surely he realized that his entrée back into the fold would be ten times more difficult with Voldemorts Whore clinging to his coat tails, but perhaps there was a deeper motivation there, too. Evmira had personally never believed a word of what the Prophet published about the accomplished Ms. Granger; if she were the brightest witch of her generation as the press had initially heralded she would have never joined the ranks of the Dark Lord. The spy stories had seemed much more true to foolish Griffyndor idealism, and while she thought the girl appallingly shortsighted not to have anticipated the outcome of such a reckless move, she realized that the young did foolish things without thinking them through, especially when evil was near and death seemed all but guaranteed.
How entertaining it would be if young Malfoy did indeed have feelings for the witch, she thought. Lucius and Narcissa would be rolling in their graves in disgust, a most fitting end for the evil pair. She had disliked both intensely, for their politics and their disdainful coldness of spirit, and on the few occasions when he had crossed her mind she had felt something akin to pity for the only child that they were doubtless turning into a little monster just like themselves. She put it to the influence of Hogwarts that Draco hadn't ended up taking the Kiss with his vicious parents. Perhaps there was a little Griffyndor nobility in the handsome young wizard, wasn't that intriguing?
Draco and Hermoine had planned every moment of their entrance down to the last detail, but they both knew that the best laid plans could only take so much into consideration.
Draco had purposely not sent an RSVP to the invitation, preferring not to give notice that he would be appearing, so there couldn't be a mass cancellation to the event to avoid them. He had had a limousine enchanted like the infamous Weasley car so it would not only go along just fine on the road, but would also fly almost as nimbly as a broom. It was a masterstroke, a casual display of wealth and power, an open acknowledgement of his respect for Muggles, and it was flamboyant enough to cause a buzz without having the callowness of arriving in something like a flashy sports car. Their appearance was also calculated to cause a murmur, as their only nod to wizard wear were their cloaks, Draco choosing a rigidly formal tuxedo made stylish by the Mandarin collar and single emerald collar stud that set off his stormy grey eyes. He had allowed his hair to fall casually over one eye as well, and the back of his left hand openly displayed his tattoo work, no glamour offered to make it easier for people to pretend they didn't notice.
Hermoine was his perfect foil, his black jacket seeming even blacker next to the brilliant, glowing white of her gown. It was her now trademark backless style, dipping so low in the back that it was a spare half inch above what would be considered a scandal, but rising to a sparkling jeweled choker around her throat, the effect incredibly modest from the front, only to be shocking as she turned to walk away. The skirt made a straight fall to the floor, where bejeweled evening slippers that matched her choker glittered and caught the light.
What was perhaps the most eye catching of all, however, was something only the highest ranks of wizarding society would notice if they deigned to look at her at all. Glimmering from her ears and wrists were several of the most prestigious pieces of the Malfoy family jewels. Draco had designed the dress specifically to go with these pieces, knowing full well that a woman appearing in any of the family treasures had to be accepted as a part of that illustrious family whether or not marriage vows had taken place. Hermoine had no idea the depth of the statement his simple act entailed, and he was not about to tell her. She would figure it out, then she would argue, then she would get over it because it was already said and done, and he would be one step closer in tying her to him permanently.
Their limo descended from the sky, parking itself precisely at the door to the Lady's manor mere minutes before 'fashionably late' became 'last to arrive'. It had sailed through her wards and security like they didn't exist, and its shadow caused a huge stir in the press on the ground as it landed. The footman who opened the door swallowed visibly when he saw the trademark Malfoy blond hair in the depths of the vehicle and turned an odd shade of green as Draco stepped out of the car, his smirk firmly in place. He handed Hermoine out with elegant courtesy, and, tucking her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow, started up the long walk.
The gloves were a way to keep her wand handy, as the opera length gloves swept up her forearm with just enough length for a wand pocket that ran from the inside of her elbow to her wrist. There was still perfect ease of movement with it, and a tiny mechanism that propelled the wand down into her hand if she needed it.
Draco employed no such tricks, his wand holster as open as all the rest of the male guests, the dark ebony wood gleaming with care. The press all stood stock still for a moment, shocked by the unexpected arrival of the wizarding worlds most controversial, and possibly well known couple. Then all hell broke loose. Flash bulbs began to pop furiously, questions were shouted, screamed, every reporter mad to get even one word from the couple. They were all ignored as if they didn't exist as Draco and Hermoine swept into the house with an air of cynical amusement.
They were stopped at the top of the stairs, and Draco sighed.
"Lord Draco Malfoy, and Miss Hermoine Granger." The servant announced. To Hermoine's credit she didn't choke, pass out or similarly react to the announcement, only looked loftily around the ballroom watching for familiar faces. They were almost to the foot of the stairs when she managed to get words through clenched teeth.
"Did you forget to mention just a few things, Draco? A title? Who the hell are you people?" His snort of laughter was inaudible to any but her.
"I suppose it slipped my mind, really, it's mostly pureblood tradition to be referred to that way. It's not as if my father paid much attention to it. There's a Muggle title too, actually, passed down from the Black side, now I'm the last male of that bloodline, too. The estate is somewhere in Cornwall I believe, I've never been there. Bloody great drain on the coffers for the upkeep, but I suppose I can't really complain since it proved quite useful in getting established in the Muggle world. Oh Merlin, look lively love, here comes the old battleaxe herself. Do not let her rattle you, remember."
"Malfoy women are never less than cool and collected," she cut in smoothly. He smirked, noting she had referred to herself as a Malfoy woman. He wasn't oblivious to the sarcasm she put into it either, but one step at a time. "Trust me, after everything else you've sprung on me one little old witch doesn't scare me a bit."
"Good, because she scares the hell out of me," he joked, sotto voce, just before she swept up to them.
"Lady Evmira, thank you for your kind invitation, your hospitality is, as usual, impeccable." He swept her a bow of just the right depth, catching her hand to kiss the back on the way up. It was a smoother use of rigidly formal manners than she had seen from wizards of her own generation who grew up at their parents knee with them, and she had to admit to being impressed. This evening could shape up to be more interesting than she'd hoped.
"May I present my companion, Miss Hermoine Granger," expecting something along the line of a curtsey that would acknowledge her position far above that of the muggleborns, she was more than a little taken aback at the cool, but respectful nod she received, as if the little chit were openly declaring herself Evmira's equal. She considered becoming furious for a moment, then she caught sight of something she'd not expected at all.
"My dear girl, are you wearing what I think you are?" Hermoine raised one eyebrow in inquiry, and Evmira had to admit it was a neat trick. "Are those Malfoy family pieces?"
"I believe Draco mentioned that they were, yes, they are quite lovely."
"Young man!" Evmira was certain that the young wizard could not possibly know the statement that he was inadvertently making, dressing his little muggleborn fancy piece in the family heirlooms, and was about to take him to task when the look in his eyes stopped her cold. Dear Merlin, she'd forgotten those disconcerting mercury colored Malfoy eyes; they could quite drill through a person, and at the moment Draco's had gone from warm silver to freezing steel, and there was a warning in them, a cold warning that would have given even his father pause. Gods, he was his fathers son, at least in some respects, she thought. Perhaps this generation was not the evil of the last, but he had not thrown away one ounce of the families arrogance or authority either. She looked from the man to the woman again then, not caring that the silence had stretched thin, except neither of them looked at all intimidated, they had perfected the cool, expressionless demeanour that the most exclusive of the wizarding households kept as a legacy. Of course, shame and scandal aside, the Malfoy's were still one of the most exclusive families, and quite likely the richest as well. Everyone had been allowed to forget that. She suddenly chuckled aloud, seeing the game as it began to be played out, and was immensely pleased that the opening volleys were to be done here, where she could watch. She was beginning to believe that she could come to quite like this unconventional wizard and his companion if they continued in the vein they had started.
"I see this is to be the field where the battle will be engaged, hmm, young master Malfoy?" Draco allowed a small smile to play around his lips and dipped his head in barest respect to her guess.
"Can you think of a better one?" She chuckled.
"Not at all, in fact, I am most pleased to bear witness to such a fascinating play. So, do you intend to simply regain your place or are your sights set to a higher aspiration, now?"
"Why, my lady, what would give you the impression that I need to work to regain anything? My family is ever as it was, we simply have, hmm, tarnished the halo a bit." This time she laughed aloud, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.
"Tarnished the halo? Young man, if your family had a halo it was ripped off, ground to bits and scattered to the four winds two generations ago at least. Now you come in, and I quite think that at least half the pureblood families expect that you will become the new Dark Lord yourself and lead them back to power." Draco was quite taken aback by that, and Evmira shook her head.,
"You think you know what you're up against, but you do not. Come, we can escape from this lot for a chat. I'm old, and that means I can be impolite when I wish." She led the couple into a small parlour to the side of the ballroom, and cast locking and silencing charms to preserve their privacy.
"When it was first brought to my attention where the largest share of my contributions were coming from, I realized there had to have been a plot of some sort in the works." Draco shrugged.
"One can only plan for so many contingencies. There was always the risk that you would understand that the information was purposely leaked. So why did you acknowledge it at all?"
"Why not? It would add a new level of intrigue to the party, at least, and I wanted to see what game was afoot. After all, this is the first time the pureblood scion of an old family has created a reputation for himself in the Muggle world as an international playwizard with closet philanthropic ideals. The mix of recklessness and kindness has been irresistible to the press, as I am sure you planned from the beginning. The question is, what exactly do you want, Malfoy? Do you want to be accepted back into wizarding society? You could buy back your position in a week, and intimidate your way back to power in a month, we both know that."
"I am not my father." She sighed. There it was, then. She had to admit to being more than a little relieved.
"Thank Merlin for that. So what is this show for?" Draco looked hard at her, and she felt the slight crawling sensation of Legilimency. Very good, she thought, he hadn't completely given up the traits he'd need if he were going about what she suspected. The only reason she noticed it at all was because she was an accomplished Occlumens herself. This time, however, she allowed the probe, allowed him to see that she would not tolerate a return of dark wizardry, but would welcome an avenue to come about for positive changes. The exchange took less than ten seconds, and he sighed.
"The only way to cure pervasive rot is to cut it out." She nodded.
"Ah, Shackelbolt and his cronies. You want to turn the public against them, and then what? Set yourself up to be the next Minister?" He looked shocked, and she almost laughed.
"Me? Merlin forbid, I want no part of that! No, changing the Minister isn't enough, I'm afraid. There needs to be sweeping reform in the entire system. Kingsley will have to remain long enough to repeal the marriage laws, and make some other changes that will set the foundations, then he can be replaced with an elected Parliament, much like the Muggle system. It's messy, sometimes disorganized, and can cause a right mess, but it's a safer system, and it ensures that both the purebloods and the muggleborns and even squibs have the same amount of say in how society is run. That's the only fair way to do it."
"Merlins beard, boy, you certainly are not one to go lightly, are you? How did you manage to develop a conscience like this with your family history?" He snorted, and cast a glance at Hermoine, who had the grace to blush just a bit. Evmira chuckled.
"Ah, nothing like the influence of a good woman to make a male regard the world in a new way, hmm?"
"I saw enough during the war to make me vomit, the atrocities we so-called purebloods put others through was enough to sully not just our blood, but our souls for the next ten generations. Then when I was tried and my wand taken from me, and I was forbidden to use magic for ten years, I realized I would be treated even worse than a squib, so I went to the one place where a lack of magic meant nothing. It's amazing how one can learn that the only thing that separates people is a talent you are born either with or without, with no control over it yourself. It's a road I would not wish to travel again, but I would also not trade the lessons learned on it for all the galleons in Gringotts."
"Excuse me for saying this, but Ms Granger here is going to make your task ten times more difficult. You alone could regain your status relatively simply. She, on the other hand, is hated by everyone, though I suspect it is through no fault of her own. Did it not occur to you that she could be used as a focus for everyones hate and bring you to power more quickly for destroying her?" Hermoine kept the mask on, but with difficulty. She had realized how much more difficult her presence would make their task, but he refused to listen. Now this woman was suggesting he use her to climb back to power. And it made sense. She felt sick. How many more times would it have to be pointed out before he realized she wasn't worth it? He was a practical man, a great manipulator and a Slytherin, such a level of compassion was not expected. She had begun to believe they would succeed and eventually she could lead a normal life again, but hearing the woman put it all out so casually gutted her. She should have learned from the first war, there were always casualties on both sides.
Evmira watched the girl. She was good, but not good enough, not any more. Evmira could see her mind working the problem over and coming to the conclusion that she was right. And she saw acceptance. Damned Gryffindor nobility, she thought again. After all she'd already been through the girl was ready to sacrifice herself again, this time more likely in a permanent way. If she was used to bring Draco back to power, she would have to admit that everything said about her was true, and that would earn her the Kiss for sure.
"Draco, she…" she trailed off at the look in his eyes, it was the first time he had ever actually frightened her.
"Do not say one word," he ground out, furious. "Don't even attempt to convince me to do this, woman, because I will not. I will not rebuild our society on a foundation of hatred, and I will not allow every sacrifice we made in that war to go unacknowledged because of politics and power plays. We knew what this would entail before we started? I knew far better than you, actually, because I lived in this world my entire life. For once in your life, Granger, shut the hell up and let someone else be the expert!"
She sucked in a breath and her eyes fairly spat fury at him.
"Fine, you're the expert, the master of the game, the virtuoso of deceit, whatever title you want. Do it your way, by all means, after all, I suppose the great Draco Malfoy cannot help but know better than the little ignorant mudblood." She turned on one splendid heel and exited the room, closing the door with a quiet snap that nonetheless seemed to have the same effect as a slam. Draco winced, then chuckled.
"I actually believed at one point in my life that my mother employed a charm to get that particular effect. Now I see that it must be a female talent." Evmira shrugged delicately.
"I think it is quite a skill actually. I never managed to master it myself. Never could pull off the look of cold rage with my husband. Does she know what you did putting her in your family jewels?" He looked immensely satisfied.
"No, not yet, she still has some coming around to do, as you can see." She snorted.
"A bit, yes. Do you love the chit, or is this part of a deeper game?" He shook his head slowly.
"No game, I will have her as my wife eventually. She's an amazing witch, you know, she even forgave me of all my past sins, and believe me there were more than enough that needed forgiveness."
"I dare say there were. Is there really remorse there as well for your family's part in all this?" He sighed.
"Sometimes I think I will spend the rest of my life atoning for the mistakes my family has made going back to well before I was born, but that is the responsibility of the head of a house, is it not? The witch has the uncanny knack for making me want to be a better man. It's almost revolting, really. I suppose I should be appalled." Evmira shook her head in droll amusement.
"You have done well so far, but you know it's not enough to secure your position, at least not yet. You need a patron with influence. I suppose I could be prevailed upon…" she let it trail off at his radiant smile. She nearly fanned herself looking at the young Malfoy heir. No wonder he caught the eyes of the press and gossip columns already, he was, quite likely one of the most handsome wizards she had ever seen. That family had always been graced by beauty, but somehow the last of the line had managed to be blessed with far more than his fair share. The Granger girl, well, she was not beautiful in the classic sense, but there was a presence about her that demanded one look, then look again and not look away. It was fitting. They would do well.
"We need to rejoin the party. You will both be here tomorrow at three to discuss the next decisions we have to make."
"This should prove to be a quite interesting conspiracy, don't you think?" He asked, tucking her hand into the crook of her arm as the door swung open.
"Precisely. I feel younger already. Now, shall we see what the precocious Ms. Granger has been doing to my party. Let's hope she doesn't have half the guests at each others throats, I did invite quite a disparate group."