A/N: Sorry for the slight delay, but the update is here and I will have the next chapter, possibly two, up by the end of the week. Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and thank you especially for my reviews, and of course, a huge thank you for being so patient and waiting for these updates, you guys are great :)
xBx
~ Chapter 19: Patience ~
When Hermione awoke on Sunday morning, the room was as empty as when she had fallen asleep. In the silence, Hermione groaned and rolled over to face the room, immediately giving a sigh of relief when she saw that Richard's bed had most certainly been slept in, which was a good sign. Hermione would have hated for her parents to discover Richard sleeping on the couch.
So far, sticking to her plan hadn't gone too well – what had she told Malfoy the other night? That she would play her part, act as if everything was perfect, and plot her escape in secret. Malfoy had dubbed her plans as being 'Slytherinesque' but so far Hermione was struggling to find her inner serpent.
"I can do this!" She said to herself, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling, "I can discover my inner Slytherin."
She snorted at the words – never in a million years did she ever expect to utter such a sentence. Expelling a large puff of air, Hermione flung the covers from her and forced herself up, out of bed and into the shower. She emerged from her room thirty minutes later, fully dressed and committed to her role.
Richard was sat on the large couch cradling a cup of tea with a newspaper open on his knees, he looked up as Hermione approached.
"Good Morning," He said with a very small smile, "How did you sleep?"
"Very well," Hermione smiled, as if she couldn't be happier that he was the first to greet her in the morning. "I certainly needed it. Where are my parents?" she asked suddenly, looking around.
"They've gone downstairs to organise a car to take you to the station." He said shortly, returning to his newspaper.
Hermione sighed, let the play commence she thought to herself before moving toward the couch and taking a seat next to Richard. She waited a moment for him to look at her, but it when it became clear he wasn't about to indulge her, Hermione reached a hand to his furthest cheek and turned his face toward her.
"I'm sorry," she said, clearing her mind of any thoughts and feelings that might betray her words. "About last night. It had been an incredibly long day, at the end of a very tiring term. I just needed some space, some time to myself – when one lives at a school, personal space is nigh on impossible to come by. And after travelling all day, the evening was a little full on and a lot to take in, especially as it was rather unexpected." She smiled, and then added: "And I have missed you. Despite what my behaviour last night may have leaded you to believe."
Hermione waited with bated breath, silently praying that Richard would buy her words, and not realise the truth that she hoped was hidden securely behind her eyes. Suddenly he smiled, and covered her hand with his.
"I missed you too," He said, putting his forehead against hers, as relief swept over Hermione. "And I'm sorry also. I guess I overreacted, I should have realised how tired you must have been. It's been a busy few days for me also, conference calls and meetings: I had one here on Friday that lasted six hours, and I have another one tomorrow." He told her.
"Here, in London?" Hermione clarified, leaning back, "Or here, in this hotel?"
"Here in this suite," Richard told her, "It's why I booked it. I've been here since Thursday."
"Ahhh, that makes more sense now," Hermione said with a small smile and Richard chuckled.
"Did you think we had this suite for one night only?" Richard laughed, "That would be a little extravagant, even for us, don't you think?" He joked and Hermione laughed with him.
"My thoughts exactly. So you won't be returning to Yorkshire with us, I take it?" She asked, praying she sounded more curious than hopeful.
"Afraid not, nor tomorrow. I'll be travelling up on Tuesday, so I get to enjoy the thrills of Christmas Eve traffic." He grimaced, before adding, "But don't worry, I will make it back in plenty of time for the party - on that I'm determined."
Hermione looked at him blankly, and felt a stirring of unease in the pit of her stomach, "Party?" she asked, somewhat warily.
"Yes, your Christmas party." He said slowly, frowning at her slightly, "Surely you can't have forgotten?"
"My Christmas party?" Hermione clarified with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, your parents are the ones throwing it, so technically it's theirs, but it will be at your home – they didn't tell you?" He asked.
"Does this look like a face that's in the know?" Hermione asked, not managing to completely keep the contempt out of her voice and Richard chuckled.
"Please tell me that it's going to be a small affair, at the very least?" Hermione whined, but Richards grimace told her everything she needed to know and she dropped her head back into the cushions with a groan, "Is a quiet Christmas too much to ask?" She asked to no one in particular.
Hermione left London not long after lunch, finally arriving home a little after six. After unpacking her luggage she removed her engagement ring, placing it carefully back in its box, and proceeded to enjoy an evening of blissful freedom over at Grimmauld Place, where she had dinner with Harry and Ron. They thoroughly discussed the boys' work and Hermione's studies, though they concentrated primarily on the former, as Hermione was keen to know absolutely everything, particularly the classified information – naturally her boys obliged, and told her everything.
Despite the seeming ease of the evening, Hermione was constantly wary, wondering if Harry would broach the subject of Draco Malfoy and what she thought he might have witnessed between them at Slughorn's party. But Harry never ventured to mention the events of that evening; perhaps he was unwilling to begin the topic in front of Ron, for which Hermione was grateful, as she couldn't afford to be distracted by Malfoy any more than she already was.
Hermione spent all of Monday with Ginny, holed up in the library at Grimmauld Place, where the two of them attempted to get as much homework out of the way as possible, before they neglected it over Christmas and New Year. After a rather productive day, managing to complete three of their assignments, Hermione was putting back some of the books they had been using, when Harry entered.
"Is it five-thirty, already?" Ginny asked in lieu of a greeting, as this was Harry's usual time of arriving home.
"Half-past six, actually. I'm late today." He said with an apologetic grin, at which Ginny's face fell.
"Crap! Mum is going to kill me, I told her I would be home by six, and I promised her I wouldn't be late this time." She groaned, picking up her things and rushing for the door. Calling over her shoulder before she disappeared, "I'll see you for lunch, Christmas Day, 'Mione!"
"Bye Gin!" Hermione called out before fixing her attention on Harry, "Good day?" She smiled.
Harry shrugged, "Paperwork." He said as if this explained everything about his day and Hermione rolled her eyes, "How was yours?" He asked.
"Productive," Hermione smiled, "Thanks again for letting me use your library, I found a few books that really helped."
"No worries," Harry waved away the conversation and moving onto a topic he needed to talk about. "I wanted to ask you before you left, what do you think about having a New Years Eve party? Here?" He asked warily.
Hermione smiled, "It's your house," she pointed out, "If you want to throw a party, do it. It would be rather fun." She added as an afterthought.
"I know," agreed Harry, "But I've never thrown a party before – I have no idea where to start." He admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable, "I mean what do I do? Who do I invite, and how many? I mean, for example, I would obviously want to invite Andromeda, but she can't really leave Narcissa. I wouldn't mind Narcissa being here, but she's under house arrest – how do I get around that? I've also been in touch with my family – well, my Aunt once by letter, and Dudley mainly, I've had lunch with him a couple of times, I thought I'd quite like to invite him, maybe. And then there's food, drink, decorations. Hermione help." He finished, rather desperately and Hermione couldn't help but smile.
With a small shake of her head she attempted to advise him the best she could, "Okay. I'm also running late, so I'm going to have to keep it quick." She said briskly, before running off instructions:
"Firstly: food, drinks and decorations – keep it simple, you don't really need to decorate, just keep up the Christmas decorations. Ask Kreacher for help, I'm sure he will be happy to take care of the food. With the drinks, buy a selection and get people to bring a bottle of something, that way you certainly won't fall short of anything. Now, the guest list is very easy, invite a few of our Hogwarts friends, a few from your office, the Weasleys, obviously, and remaining members of the Order. Give people the option of a plus-one – it bumps up your guest list without you having to do the leg-work. I think inviting Dudley is a great idea, it would be good for you both to form some sort of relationship based on your own perceptions of each other, not what your Aunt and Uncle tell you. And as to Andromeda and Narcissa – well, Narcissa is under house arrest for her own safety more than anything, correct?"
Harry nodded, wide eyed and mouth slightly open as he tried to keep up with Hermione's fast slowing words,
"Well then, I would discuss it with Kingsley – if he is to attend, I see no reason why it shouldn't be safe for Narcissa to be given a reprieve for one evening. She will be here with her guardian, in the home of two Aurors and under the nose of the Minister for Magic: she would be in little danger of attack and it would be impossible for her to escape. Invite the whole family, Andromeda, Narcissa and Malfoy – if you do that, you may want to consider extending an invite to Blaise Zabini," Hermione suggested as an afterthought, "Extend it through Ginny, it will keep her happy for the night, and Malfoy will have some company and moral support in a room full of former enemies, and Blaise is easy enough to get along with – he may be a Slytherin, but his family kept out of the Death Eaters, it makes him rather neutral." She finished briskly.
"Right," was all Harry managed to say as he tried to digest the wealth of information Hermione had fired at him.
"I have to go," Hermione smiled at him, "I won't see you tomorrow, but I will see you Christmas day, at the Burrow." She told him, then patted his arm as he still looked a little overwhelmed, "Don't worry, you'll be fine; your first party will be a success. Concentrate on getting invites out first, and after Christmas I can help a little with preparations. But ask Kreacher for help, I'm sure he has helped the Blacks with numerous parties in the past, he will know what to do."
###
So far, Draco's holidays were shaping up to be the strangest he had ever had, and he had only been home all of three days. The place was barely recognisable as the house he had left only fourteen weeks ago – his mother and aunt Andromeda had certainly been busy in his absence and the manor was much the better for it. It was no longer cold, dark and unwelcoming, but full of light, warmth and colour with certain touches which left the place feeling a lot more like a home than it had ever done before.
There was also a baby in the house, which was a brand new experience for Draco having been an only child. What was even stranger was that little Teddy Lupin seemed to have taken an instant liking to him and no one had ever taken an instant liking to Draco Malfoy in his entire existence.
But the strangest thing to happen occurred over breakfast on Christmas Eve, when Narcissa informed her son that 'Harry' would be joining them for dinner this evening. Yep, Harry Potter would be dining at Malfoy Manor, and just when Draco thought things could not get any weirder, he discovered that Potter joining his mother and Aunt was not uncommon (even Weasley had joined the party once or twice!), but also his mother and Potter were now on a first name basis.
Draco had spent the first few days of his holiday immersed in his studies, holed up in the family library, but today he had intended be sociable and spend the day in his mother's company, which is why he was in the south wing, cleaning out the rooms that had once belonged to his grandmother before she passed away several years ago. No one had entered them since, which meant that all the clutter his grandmother had accumulated was still there gathering dust – and not all of it was harmless trinkets and nick-knacks. There were cupboards full of potions, some of which were innocent enough, but others that were deadly and needed to be disposed of very carefully. There were bookshelves full of interesting books, some of which Draco and Narcissa decided to keep and add to the family library, others were either too old or too unsavoury to even think of keeping.
As they cleared the clutter, a house elf followed them around helping to dispose of the bags of rubbish they collected, and thoroughly cleaning the room itself and the bits that remained in it. As they worked, Draco and Narcissa talked properly for the first time in years: during the Dark Lord's ascent to power and his year of reign, the Malfoys were so busy securing the well practiced masks that they were intending to present to the world that they often forgot to let the mask down in the home. But now that the war was over, and Lucius was in gaol unable to sniff his disapproval at publicly displayed emotions, Narcissa and Draco were able to try and regain some of that closeness they used to have when Draco was younger.
They talked mainly of school, and Narcissa was happy to hear that Draco wasn't having a particularly difficult time – she had rather feared, and expected, that being the son of a notorious Death Eater as well as being branded with the mark himself would have made him a social pariah, but it seemed the scandal of his return had blown over rather quickly. Helped of course, Narcissa was quick to realise, by the amount of time he seemed to be spending with Hermione Granger. Narcissa couldn't help but notice how often her name was mentioned, and she gathered from her son's words, that the two heads were taking great advantage of having a tower to themselves – they never seemed to go anywhere else, both using it as a safe haven to escape the stares.
Narcissa was also treated to an update on the relationship status of Blaise; Narcissa had always liked Blaise, ever since he was young, and she had encouraged the friendship much more than Lucius ever did – Lucius had preferred Draco to keep company with Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, simply because their fathers were in the same fold as Lucius. And while Narcissa was forced to conform to her husband's ideals, she wished she could keep Draco away from them. The Zabinis kept themselves to themselves; they were a prominent Italian family, and had only moved to England a year after Draco had been born. The Malfoys were the only family the Zabinis really interacted with, and Narcissa was the only person they seemed able to get along with.
As they progressed into the bedchamber and began going through the closets, the conversation turned to the renovations being undertaken at the Manor and Draco smiled to see how happy his mother was. He had not seen her smile like this in years, not since before he had started Hogwarts, and he was glad that she finally seemed to be finding some happiness after the war. He also noticed that Andromeda was beginning to rub off on her: she was a lot more talkative now, and more opinionated – or perhaps she had always been opinionated, she just never felt she could fully express them? Either way, she was certainly expressing them now.
"I have no idea how your father will react when he sees what we've done to his house," Narcissa admitted as they began rifling through a large jewellery box, "but I suppose he'll have to live with it. Anything he doesn't like he can change himself – and we both know how that will end." She commented with a roll of her eyes, causing Draco to smirk as he pulled out a small box roughly the size of his palm. Opening it he discovered a pair of expensive looking earrings of emerald, diamond and platinum (at first he thought they were silver, but upon closer inspection he noticed the true value of the metal.)
"Wow," he said, sounding slightly shocked; "these look a little bit too…" he seemed to struggle for the right word, "pretty for Granny."
Narcissa snorted – yes, actually snorted with laughter at her son's words. He smirked and held out the box for his inspection. Narcissa took it from him and inspected the fingernail-sized emeralds that hung from the diamond stud, encased in the serpentine platinum spirals.
"You're right," Narcissa agreed with a laugh, "They're certainly not her style. Perhaps they were intended as a gift." She shrugged, "What shall we do with them?"
"Do you not want them?" Draco asked, and Narcissa shook her head.
"I doubt they would suit me." She said simply, handing the back to Draco so he could replace the lid.
Draco looked at them thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, "Would you mind if I take them?"
Narcissa looked up, slightly surprised, "I don't think they'd suit you either, darling, if I'm being truly honest." She said slowly, trying to restrain a smile.
Draco gave her a deadpan look, "Very droll, mother." He commented, causing her to laugh, "But I wasn't thinking of wearing them myself, believe it or not. But I do know someone whom these would suit very well, and it may help her find her inner-Slytherin which I'm sure she is struggling to find right now."
Narcissa looked at her son intently, but his face was giving nothing away as to whom he was thinking of right now, though she had a thought as to who it may be.
"Of course," she said, "Someone should get some wear out of them, and they are far too pretty to hide away. Only run some tests on them before you give them – my Mother-in-law was a bitch, I wouldn't put anything past her."
It was Draco's turn to snort with derision, "Aunt Andromeda is certainly having an influence on you."
###
Hermione was woken on Christmas Eve by her bedroom door opening loudly and her curtains being dragged open to let in the weak winter sun.
"Come one, 'Min. Time to get up love, we have a lot to do." Victoria's voice floated across the room, sounding far too chearful for this early in the morning. Hermione groaned, rolled over and forced her eyes open to look at the clock on her bedside table.
"Seriously, Mother? It's eight AM." Hermione moaned.
"Yes, and we have lots to do before the party tonight." Victoria reiterated: Hermione should have been prepared for this, her mother was incorrigible when it came to planning events and Hermione always ended up being roped in if she was home.
"Guest will not be arriving until eight PM, it's not going to take twelve hours to get everything ready." Hermione grumbled, pulling the covers over her head, in a desperate attempt to make it all disappear.
"No, but we also have to get ourselves ready. Lisa will be coming over at ten to prep your hair for this evening." Victoria explained and Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this new piece of information.
"Prep my hair?" she asked incredulously, flinging the covers from her head to look her mother in they eye, "I know my hair can be unruly, but it doesn't take ten hours to 'prep' whatever the hell that means." Hermione complained.
Victoria rolled her eyes, "I am aware of that, she is simply going to treat it, loosen your curls so that they are more sleek and manageable as opposed to frizzy and uncontrollable." When Hermione still looked less than impressed, Victoria continued, "You'll thank me for it later, now get out of bed and come and have breakfast."
Hermione sighed, "Alright fine. Just give me five minutes to sort myself out and I will be down." She relented, making her mother's smile even wider.
Her mother left the room and Hermione dragged herself out of bed, not looking forward to this evening one bit. A night pretending to be the happy little heiress, faking a laugh to all her parent's high society Muggle friends and business associates, and no doubt being paraded around the room on Richard's arm as he showed off the gem of society he would be marrying while she flashed the ostentations rock on her finger under the eyes of the simpering girls.
"What in the name of Merlin's balls have I got myself into?" Hermione asked herself as pulled her dressing gown on. "Deep breaths," she told herself, closing her eyes, "Quell the Lioness. You can not afford to be hot-headed and rash, you need to be calm and collected."
The morning wasn't nearly as bad as Hermione had expected it to be: breakfast was really quite enjoyable, just herself and her mother. There was no talk of wedding plans, as Victoria's thoughts were consumed with this evening's soiree. And when it came to ten o'clock, Lisa was barely there for half an hour, and Hermione didn't have to be subjected to much fussing. All she had to do was keep her hair dry for the rest of the day and the curls would remain tame and easy to style later on.
Hermione spent most of the morning, and a portion of the afternoon, with her mother in the Ballroom. As tonight's party would consist of less than one hundred guests, they decided the formal dining room was not needed, which cut down the preparation time by half. Instead, small tables were set up around the edge of the ballroom, providing enough room to sit and chatter, as well as ample space to move and migle. The caterers and bar staff arrived around midday; Victoria led the catering staff down to the kitchen, giving them strict instructions on what could be used and what couldn't, leaving Hermione to guide the bar staff into the generously sized anteroom, which would serve as their bar room for the evening.
A little after five Victoria sought out her daughter, who was still in the Ballroom helping lay the table decorations.
"Thank you for your help, darling." Victoria smiled, putting an arm around her daughter, "The place looks fantastic."
Hermione laughed, "Not my doing, mother. You were the one who planned it, and these are the ones who executed it. I just did as I was told."
"Well, it still looks brilliant. Now you need to go and shower, Emma will be here in half an hour to do your hair and make-up." Victoria said, and Hermione groaned.
"Couldn't I just do it myself?" Hermione asked, slightly pleading. "It seems an awful waste of someone's time to do something I'm perfectly capable of doing myself."
"Be that as it may, she will be here, and it would be rude to send her away after making the trek out here." Victoria said with a smile, "And you know you love it when people play with your hair, don't deny it." She added.
Hermione couldn't deny it, her mother had her there, and she grinned in spite of herself, "Fine, I submit. I'll go."
When Hermione emerged from her bathroom in her dressing gown twenty minutes later, Emma was waiting for her in her sitting room.
"I hope you kept your hair dry," a familiar voice called out, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. Emma had been doing Hermione's hair and make-up for Victoria's many parties for years, and was well aware of how little Hermione enjoyed the tedious preparation. Emma knew exactly how Hermione liked her hair, and it was done with little fuss and lots of friendly banter.
Hermione was ready to dress within another half hour, and after saying her goodbyes to Emma, she glanced at the clock over the fireplace. It had only just gone six-thirty, her parents would be busy in their own rooms, no one would be arriving for well over an hour and everyone else would either be cooking in the kitchen, or polishing glasses in the Ballroom. This was a perfect opportunity to get into her parents study and find the accounts books she needed, and she wasn't going to waste it.
Dressed in nothing but her dressing gown she padded lightly down the stairs to the office on the ground floor, and found the accounting books on the large bookcase where they usually were. Just as she was pulling the most recent business one from it's shelve, the door opened and her father entered, already dressed for the evening, stopping short when he saw her.
"Hermione, what on earth are you doing?" He asked, highly surprised, "Shouldn't you be getting dressed?"
"It won't take me long to put on a dress," she said simply, "I was looking for the accounting books." She told him.
"Why?" Anthony asked, raising an eyebrow and pouring himself a Scotch. Hermione bit her lip, wondering how much truth to tell her father, or weather to simply lie.
Anthony sensed his daughter's hesitation and smiled, "Come on, Min. We never have any secrets."
Hermione couldn't help it, she bristled at the comment, "Don't we?" she challenged, "So, why didn't you tell me the main reason Mother and yourself are so set on my match with Richard is simply for the acquisition of the Alden fortune?"
Anthony seemed to deflate slightly at his daughter's words. "Ah," was all he managed to say, and Hermione rolled her eyes. In that moment she decided on only telling him part of the reason she was there, and in an instant her cool and calculative exterior was back in place.
"Honestly, father, I know we don't discuss money – it isn't the done thing -" she repeated the sentence that had been drilled into her from an early age,
"But if the money is the reason for my marriage you should at least have the courtesy to tell me. I'm in here to grab some of the accounting books so I can look the, over. I want to know our full financial situation, including the business, the house and our other investments. If I am to inherit, I need to know what I'm inheriting. And if I am going to approach my husband for money to invest, I would like to know the exact sum I will be requesting, how I will be planning to spend it, and what I expect to get as a return from the investment. I am not a trophy-wife, nor do I not intend to be turned into one. I will be managing the business, and I intend to do it with a full knowledge of its incomings and outgoings." Hermione ranted calmly, running her eyes over the shelves and taking down another couple of books.
Her words were greeted only with silence, and Hermione turned to face her father to see him looking at her appraisingly. It was true that she wanted a thorough understanding of their financial standing, and it was true she wanted to know how much money was needed, what it was needed for, and when it was needed by. What she didn't tell him was that she would be searching for alternative means of acquiring it, and this would be her way to get out of the wretched engagement – her father didn't need to know that part.
Anthony walked to his daughter's side, "Alright," he said. "The red ledgers are the house accounts, the blue ones are for the practice – you'll notice there are three books per year, one for each practice. This black one," he took the large volume from the shelf, "Is a five-year review of the business, you'll need that it will save you tedious hours of crunching the numbers from fifteen books." He said with a sly smile, "The green ones are for our other investments. I would suggest looking over the ones from the last two years. This year's books are only half done, but everything from July onwards is on my computer, I'll print it off for you after Christmas. Oh and," he grabbed a couple of accounting textbooks and handed them to Hermione, "You will be needing these. Trust me." He added.
Hermione smiled, "Thank you," she said, "Would you mind if I take them now? I won't be looking over them right this instance, but I would like to have them at hand, in my rooms."
"I'll help you take them up," Anthony said, "But I would hurry, it's nearing seven-thirty and you mother will kill us both if she knew we were down here talking business instead of getting ready."
After placing the multiple tombs on the decent sized study table of her sitting room, Hermione ushered her father from her rooms, promising she would get dressed directly and wouldn't get distracted by the books.
True to her promise she walked back into her bedroom and directly to the closet to find a dress for tonight, trying not to think of how late she was running. She exhaled loudly as she scanned the dresses that would be fit for the evening – nearly all were strapless, which would perfectly display the large dragon burn on her right shoulder. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle as she imagined trying to explain that one to a room full of Muggles.
Finally, she found the perfect dress: Emerald green satin and ivory lace. The dress had a semi-fitted bodice and a floor-length, simple skirt with a long split up one leg, allowing for the fabric to fall and move around her in a more seductive way. At the waist, a wide strip of ivory lacing accented her curves, and the same lace began at the top of the satin bodice, extending the dress to her neckline. The dress with sleeveless, but the lace covered her shoulders, before cutting away into a backless design, the dress beginning again at the lace waistband.
The top of the dress fastened at the nape of with three rather fiddly buttons, and Hermione was beginning to get frustrated with the issues she seemed to be having when she was distracted by a cracking sound coming from her bedroom.
She stopped, hands frozen on the two pieces of fabric, and listened intently, "What the…" she mumbled, and then her eyes widened in shock as a voice called out.
"Geez, Granger. You weren't kidding when you said you had money. Your room is twice the size of the one back at Hogwarts, I can only imagine the size of the rest of the house."
"It's nothing to Malfoy Manor, I can assure you." Hermione said, emerging from her dressing room and coming face-to-face with a smirking Draco Malfoy, one hand holding the dress to her chest so it didn't fall and the other picking up the skirt so she wouldn't stumble – without heels the dress brushed the floor a little more than she liked.
"What the hell are you doing in my house?" She asked him, "No, no, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom? And more to the point, how did you even find the place, I haven't removed the Fidelius charm."
Draco chuckled, "You told me your address, remember? You were ranting a little, it's true, and alcohol may have assisted you in divulging the secret." He told her, and Hermione remembered.
"Right," she said, "That still doesn't explain why you're here." She pointed out, but Draco still didn't answer. Instead his eyes raked over her appearance.
"I take it you have plans?" he asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"My parents are hosting a little Christmas party. And I'm running late, so while you're here you may as well be useful." She said walking up to him, turning her back on him, and pulling her hair over her left shoulder, in doing so she inadvertently flashed the large ruby in Draco's face. "Could you fasten me up, Please? I can't do them and it's starting to piss me off."
Draco chuckled, though he had been frowning a moment before not pleased to see the ring still on her finger. He obliged, however, delicately fastening the three buttons, and trying not to stare at the soft skin so ruthlessly exposed to him. He couldn't help but notice (in his not so brilliant efforts at not staring) the few scars across her back, and it took all his effort to restrain from running a finger over them.
Draco was stood so close to her, that Hermione could feel his breath tickling against her neck, and while it sent tingles down her spine and set her heart racing, she tried desperately not to let it show. But when he fastened the final button, Draco's hand accidentally grazed against Hermione's skin; the touch was so gentle, and so brief, it was barely a touch, but it was enough to make Hermione shiver in a very good way.
Draco smirked at the reaction to his touch, but never said a word, instead he took a small step back and Hermione turned around to face him, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
"Thank you," she said, "Now, for the third time, why are you here?" she asked.
"Right," Draco said, remembering why he was there in the first place, and pulled out a box that was the size of his palm. "I thought you might like these," he said holding out the box to her.
"It's not a Christmas present or anything," he added quickly, seeing her face and guessing correctly, "So don't worry about getting me anything in return. We've been clearing out the manor, and we found these. No one is going to wear them and I thought they might suit you. Incidentally, they will go great with your dress. A lot better than the rock you're still sporting."
Hermione frowned, "The rock is unfortunately a necessity. For now, at least." She added with a smirk, before taking the box, "But thank you,"
"Thank me after you open it, you might hate it." Draco joked. But when Hermione lifted the lid to reveal the emerald earrings, her intake of breath certainly didn't indicate hate.
"These are beautiful," Hermione whispered, "why?" She asked, looking back up to see Draco shrug.
"Why not? Like I said, no one is going to wear them, and I thought they would look good on you. And don't worry, I've double and triple checked them, they have no jinx or curse upon them, they're completely safe to wear." He joked.
Hermione smiled, "Thank you," she said again, taking them from the box and putting them on. "And you're right, they're perfect for tonight. A lot better than this thing," she laughed, flashing her ring, and this time Draco let her see his frown.
"It's really necessary?" He asked.
"Of course," Hermione said, looking shocked he would suggest it wasn't. "No doubt we'll announce the engagement, and of course I'll want to show off the ring, what with me being a happy bride-to-be on the brink of perfect happiness." She smiled.
Draco snorted, "You almost had me convinced there," He told her and Hermione laughed. "As long as you're not convincing yourself." Draco added.
"Don't be ridiculous," she told him, "I have everything I need in my sitting room to find my escape clause. I just have to convince the others all is well for the time being, so that I can plot in peace." Hermione looked down at her ring, "However, the ring this evening does pose a slight problem." She said, pondering the ruby intently.
"How so?" Draco probed, when Hermione didn't look like she would continue.
"Well, everyone will be expecting to see it. But when I flash my left hand around, I'm also flashing my left forearm," she told him, holding up said arm to display the Mudblood scar, still etched there.
"I really don't fancy trying to explain that to a room full of Muggles. I have gloves I can wear," Hermione continued, "But that would mean removing the ring."
"I'm so sorry," Draco whispered quietly, and Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He was no longer meeting her eye.
"What for?" She asked him, quietly, though she knew full well where the conversation would be going.
"What for?" He repeated, looking up at her incredulously, "For what my deranged Aunt did to you, and doing nothing to stop it." He said hotly, turning away from Hermione, but not quickly enough that she didn't notice the torment in her eyes.
"You have nothing to apologise for," Hermione told him quietly, taking a step towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder trying to get him to turn around. When he didn't move she let her hand drop.
"You didn't do this to me, and there was nothing you could do to stop them." Hermione took a deep breath, and then spoke the words she never thought she would speak, especially not to him.
"I saw your face that night. In those brief respites from your Aunt's curses, I was able to take in some of my surroundings, and I saw your face. You were the only one who didn't look at me, but I still saw the conflict in your eyes. I also saw your father, his hand on your shoulder stopping you from moving." Draco had gone completely still; it was as if he wasn't even breathing, but Hermione continued.
"When your aunt had had her fill of the Cruciatus curse, and took up the blade instead-"
"Please, Hermione, stop." Draco interrupted her, and Hermione was surprised to hear a slight shake to his voice. "It was bad enough witnessing it, I don't need to relive it in my waking hours as well."
Hermione ignored him and continued, only vaguely registering the new use of her first name, "When she started carving into me, I saw you take a stop forward – in that moment I could see you wanted to help me, but your father pulled you back, forced you to stay put, and suddenly your mask was back in place. And thank the God's he did-"
"How can you say that?" Draco demanded, finally turning to face Hermione again "Your screams still haunt me every night, and you thank the gods that no one helped you?"
"I thank the Gods you didn't help me, Draco!" She reiterated, using his first name for the first time. In the heat of moment it slipped out; it rolled off her tongue like the most natural thing in the world and she was barely aware. But Draco noticed, and his anger immediately dissapated.
"What would they have done to you if you had succeeded?" She continued, "They would have made you torture me yourself, before passing me over to Fenrir Greyback. They would have made you watch while he…" Draco looked away from her again, not even wanting to think of contemplating Hermione's next words that she was clearly struggling to find.
"-did what he was going to do, before killing me." Hermione continued, "Then they would have probably killed you too. There was nothing you could do to stop it happening, so you have to stop blaming yourself. If anything, I should be thanking you." She said suddenly.
Still Draco wouldn't look her in the eye, but she caught his incredulous expression at this recent declaration. Hermione put her hand on Draco's cheek and made him look at her.
"You knew who we were the moment you saw us, I saw the recognition in your eyes, and yet you lied. If you hadn't, Voldemort would have been summoned and we would have been killed instantly. Instead, you bought us time. And while being tortured was horrific, it still gave Harry and Ron the time to figure a way out. And what's more, Bellatrix got nothing out of me: I didn't break under the torture, I didn't tell her the truth, but she gave me a lot of valuable information without realising what she was doing." Hermione told him honestly. "Without that information, we wouldn't have been able to go on and find the way to destroying Voldemort for good."
"What do you-" Draco started to ask, but Hermione shook her head.
"I can't explain, not right now. It's an incredibly long story and I am running incredibly late." She began, but was interrupted by the sound of her door opening.
Immediately, suddenly realising the rather compromising position they were in, Hermione and Draco took a step apart as Victoria entered the room.
"Hermione, why are you not- Oh." Victoria stopped mid sentence, noticing that her daughter was not alone. "This seems rather cosy, and slightly inappropriate." She added, looking at her daughter with a raised eyebrow, inviting her to explain.
Hermione sighed, "Mother, this is Draco Malfoy," she introduced, "We go to school together, he's Head Boy so we've been sharing a tower since September." Hermione explained.
"Draco Malfoy, this is my Mother: Victoria Granger." Hermione finished.
"A pleasure to meet you," Draco said, feeling slightly awkward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, or make you late, I just called by to drop something off."
Victoria smiled, "That's quite alright, it was lovely to meet you," she said politely, before turning back to her daughter, "Hermione, guests will be arriving in ten minutes, Richard is already waiting for you, so I would suggest you hurry. Will you be joining us this evening, Mr Malfoy?" She added, turning back to Draco, who looked uncomfortably at Hermione, clearly unsure how best to respond.
Hermione answered for him, "Will that be a problem, Mother?" she asked, not giving a definitive answer.
"Not at all," Victoria smiled politely, "Though I would suggest he arrives from the entrance, and not from your bedroom." She said significantly, as she turned to leave.
Hermione waited for mother to leave the sitting room before turning to Draco. "You don't have to join us," she said. "I mean you can if you would like, I won't deny it would be nice to have someone I can talk freely to. But I realise you probably have other plans, with your family."
"Surprisingly not." Draco smirked, "Well, Potter is having dinner with us, but I can miss that. I would quite like to see the little Muggle heiress on parade." He mocked.
Hermione scowled, "Do you think you can withstand a night in the presence of a room full of Muggles?" She mocked back.
Draco smirked, and quirked his eyebrow, "Better than you can, I'd wager. Remember, I've been a Slytherin for years: hiding my true emotions and making people believe what I want them to believe is easy for me. But this is your first time in the snake pit, as it were. Can you really let go of your Gryffindor sensibilities for a full night?" He challenged.
Hermione smirked, "Challenge accepted. Go change, be back in thirty minutes, you'll have to apparate outside the gates I'm afraid, and walk up the drive. It should only take you five minutes. And then you can see what I'm really made of – out here in the Muggle world, I'm not the Gryffindor you think you know, you might even be surprised." She promised.
Draco didn't respond but turned on the spot and disappeared. Hermione turn back to her dresser, where she removed her engagement ring and threaded it onto a gold chain which she fastened around her neck, knowing full well she would have to have it on her person some how. She then slipped into her satin heels and picked up her gloves, pulling the on as she rushed out of her room.
A/N: Thanks for reading, a little bit of a slow chapter, I know and I'm sorry. But I'll be getting onto the next chapter first thing in the morning, it's all about the party and it will be fun :)
xBx