Chapter Warnings: Adult language, mentions of physical punishment

Author's Notes: This chapter was previously written but has been edited around the changes of the last chapter. It also gets into some discussion on the physical punishment of children, basically whether or not it is okay to give a disobedient child an arse-whooping. (This is in response to all those, "my-daddy-beat-me-with-his-pimp-cane" Draco stories.) Remember that these characters were young children in the 1980s, when it was more commonly accepted to spank or otherwise physically punish children, especially among traditionalist parents, such as the Malfoys. This chapter takes place in November 1997, again, when it was more conventional to spank or physically discipline children than today.

With that in mind, enjoy…

Chapter 7: Dinner Date

Draco was nervous. He had everything planned out and he wanted it to go perfectly. He had prepared a five course meal with the portions precisely measured as to how much he and Hermione could eat. Draco could eat a surprising amount when he wanted to, and he had spent enough time looking over at the Gryffindor table to know that so could she. He had pulled out all the stops on this meal.

Draco adjusted his tie. Then he pulled it off. He wondered how formal he should be for this. Usually he dated wealthy pureblood girls who expected him to be dressed to the nines. But Hermione was not one of those girls. He knew he had to look better than he did on any school day, but he was usually dressed quite well on school days. He wondered if he should have asked for help on deciding what to wear, but he decided that would be too much of a girl thing to do. He wished it wasn't. Hermione had been in her room for hours with Ginny and Luna, presumably doing the same thing he was doing.

He had chosen a light grey Armani suit that he had been told brought out the color of his eyes. The shirt was a simple white cotton Oxford underneath it. He tossed the tie aside and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, attempting to make the outfit just a touch less formal.

If he had been wearing robes, he could have picked out his clothing a lot easier. He had been trained from the time he could dress himself on what was appropriate wizard wear on various occasions. Instead he had chosen to wear one of his Muggle suits. He had felt Hermione would appreciate it more.

He spritzed on his spicy cologne and reached for his jar of hair gel. He looked at it thoughtfully, then set it down. Hermione seemed to like it when he let his hair fall into his face and he decided to let it do so, despite the voice in his head telling him it was undignified. He had to fight to ignore the voice because it sounded like his mother. If it had been Lucius's voice it would have been far less difficult to ignore.

Deciding he was ready, he walked downstairs to the common room to wait for Hermione. He hoped she wasn't ready yet and waiting for him. He had always been taught that it was proper for a man to be waiting on a woman, not the other way around. He didn't know why that was proper, but he thought it was also somewhat romantic to watch the woman make an entrance, walking down the steps dressed up to go out. He chuckled to himself. That sounded worse than it being the proper thing to do. Draco got down to the common room and found that Hermione was not there. Good, he thought. He looked at his watch. He still had ten minutes left until eight. He looked back up Hermione's staircase and waited. Not a minute later, he saw Ginny's head peak around the door and heard her squeal as she shut the door again. How long had she been looking out for him? Was Hermione ready and she was waiting to make her entrance like he wanted? Ginny and Luna hurried out of her door and down the staircase.

"Hey Draco," Ginny said "You look nice. Hermione's almost ready. Bye," and she was out of the hole behind the painting along with her blonde friend.

Draco waited another fifteen minutes before the door opened again and Hermione stepped out. She was a vision. Her dress was a deep rich blue cut in a halter style that plunged into a deep-vee neckline. The dress fell to the floor but had a slit up the side that came to the middle of her thigh. Her feet and calves were wrapped in a kind of sandal that made Draco think of the Trojan War. Her hair was in curls that hung around her face, still retaining a lot of the bushy shape but in a much more elegant way. She was wearing the heart shaped necklace that he had given her for her birthday. Draco's jaw dropped.

"Hermione, you, you look amazing." Draco told her.

"Thank you" Hermione blushed "You look very nice as well. Sorry I'm late."

Draco shook his head "You're not late" he said. He offered her his arm, which she took. "As I said, we're going up to the top of the tower." He led her out of the painting hole and around to another point at the base of the tower, where a tapestry concealed a staircase that wound around and up the tower. He went before her, leading her to the top.

At the top of the tower was set a table for two. Draco pulled out Hermione's seat for her and after she sat down he took his own.

Draco would normally have called for a house elf to fill their glasses with water and the wine for the first course, but he knew that this would put him right back on the short list with Hermione. Instead he had the elves send up the food at his cue and he served both of them himself. Hermione seemed to like this anyway. Draco had selected a different wine for each course, with the help of the house elves in the kitchens, who always seemed to know things like that. The first course appeared before them, a lobster bisque.

"I feel like we haven't really had the time to talk and really get to know each other." Draco said.

"I suppose you're right" Hermione agreed. "What do you want to know?"

"What was your childhood like?" Draco asked, "How was it growing up with Muggles?"

"Well my parents are dentists" Hermione began.

"What are dentists?" Draco asked.

"They're healers for your teeth."

"You have healers for your teeth?"

"Yes"

"Weird"

"Will you let me finish?'

"Yes, go ahead, tooth healers."

"Yes, so anyway, they're dentists so I couldn't have a lot of sweets at home. When I got to Hogwarts I started eating them like crazy but I got tired of them after a while. Ron thinks it's horrible that I couldn't have a lot of sweets as a child."

"I know what it's like though" Draco said "I would get hyper whenever I had sugar and that was undignified so I didn't get to have them often."

"Your parents put a lot of emphasis on what was proper and what wasn't, didn't they?"

"Yes, my mother and Lucius taught me from birth how a proper wizard should act."

"You know, you could still call Lucius your father."

"I choose to no longer acknowledge that man as my father, especially when I know that he is, in fact, not my father."

"So what, are you going to address Voldemort as Father now?" she laughed. He laughed as well. "Probably not." He said.

The soup bowls were removed and the next course appeared before them, pan-seared sea scallops and risotto.

"So is it true Muggle children start school at the age of five?" Draco asked.

"Yes, they go to school from age five to eighteen, approximately. Some people start early or late. It mostly depends on when your birthday is."

"You can start early or late?"

"Yes"

"They don't have you all go when you're five in September?"

"No, well, everybody starts in September and goes until May, but you can start when you're four or when you're six. I started when I was four because my birthday is so soon after school starts."

"Wow. So you went to school for six years before you came here?"

"Seven actually. You were forgetting to include both four and ten."

"Oh right. What did they teach you?"

"They taught us simple stuff at first, like our colors and letters and numbers. Then as we got older we learned about plants and animals and how to read and write and do math."

"What's math?"

"It's like Arithmancy. You learn how to manipulate numbers. Only we do it so we can figure out how to work elevators and cut wood into angles and things like that."

"They teach you that so young."

"Well, they teach us the basics first. But I was a little bit gifted with math, so I had third year Arithmancy pretty much learned before I came here. That's part of why I was able to take so many classes third year. I also knew all the Muggle Studies material obviously."

"Okay, so then how do Muggle elevators work?"

"It's very complicated but the short answer is through a system of pulleys and motors."

Draco looked confused and decided to ask about something else as their scallops were replaced by stuffed quails with red pepper sauce and seasonal vegetables. "Why didn't your mother teach you these things?"

"Well, she was at work." Hermione told him. "Some children are taught at home but most of them go to school."

"Don't their mothers miss them if they leave home so young?"

"Oh, we didn't sleep at school. We went during the day and came home at night."

"Really?"

"Yeah"

"That's weird."

"It's just different from what you're used to."

"I guess"

"So I assume your mother taught you to read and write and everything."

"Well, yes, aren't mothers supposed to do that?"

"In the wizarding world I suppose so."

"In the old wizarding families the women either work from home or don't work so that they can take care of the kids."

"I think that's more of a rich thing."

"No it's not. Look at Ron's mother. She doesn't work."

Hermione supposed he was right. The eaten quail was taken away and lamb filet was brought with grilled asparagus and caramelized onions.

"You said that Lucius used to hit you." Hermione said seriously.

"Only when I was bad," Draco defended. "He didn't hit me unless he had a good reason. If I was bad I got my arse kicked. It's no big deal."

"A parent should never hit their child."

"Well, it's okay in the wizarding world."

"Well it shouldn't be."

"It's just how things are done. When a child misbehaves, they have to be punished so that they won't do it again. It's okay for parents to hit their children to teach them a lesson. Ron said his mother used to spank him with a wooden spoon. Lucius would smack my hands with his cane. It hurts but it teaches you a lesson. You don't do that thing anymore that you're getting punished for. It's not like he cursed me or hit me over the head or broke any bones. It's not abuse; it's discipline."

"Would you ever hit your child Draco?"

"I don't know. It depends on what they did. And of course I would have to discuss it with my child's mother first."

Hermione sighed.

"Just so you know," Draco said, "I've never hit my elves. They pretty much do what I say and I let them do what they want the rest of the time. I treat them like I treat Crabbe and Goyle to be honest. I tell them to do something. They do it. If they screw it up, I yell at them for a little while and then send them on their way."

Hermione didn't look up. "That's basically how my parents used to discipline me."

"They never hit you?"

"No, never"

"Good, you're too precious to be hit."

She blushed, "you're such a sweet talker." She said.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all."

The lamb was then replaced by a slice for each of them of strawberry laced cheesecake.

"I can't get rid of my house elves Hermione" Draco broached the subject cautiously. "They would be devastated and disgraced to be let go. They've been working for my family their whole lives, most of them. Right now, they're just at the Manor keeping it clean and everything and they'll let me know if anyone comes to call. But they like working for me and like I said I don't hit them or anything."

"You say you treat them like people but you don't give them clothes or wages."

"I give them food and a place to live and work to do. I treat them how they want to be treated."

Hermione sighed again.

"You can ask them if you want to next time you come to the Manor." He let the invitation hang in the air. It was more than an invitation to talk to his house elves. The real implication was that he was asking her to come and stay with him at the manor at some point. He bit his lip as he watched her process his words.

"Maybe over Christmas." She said. He grinned broadly. She was accepting him and she had all but accepted the fact that he had house elves. And Christmas was just a month away.

He stood as the finished their cheesecake and asked, "Would you like to go for a ride?"

"On what exactly?" she asked. "I hardly think we're dressed for brooms or animals."

"On a magic carpet" he said.

"You have your own magic carpet?"

"I have my own island."

"You have your own island?"

"Yes"

"Where is it?"

"In the South Pacific"

"What's it called?"

"Antara"

"You really have your own island?"

"Yes"

"Just how rich are you?"

"As of Halloween my net worth is…:

"Yes?"

"827 million galleons"

""You're kidding"

"No"

"You're worth 827 million galleons?"

"Approximately. Now are we riding this thing or not?" He gestured to a Persian rug in the corner.

"Wait, aren't these things illegal?" she asked.

"Only if you get caught."