A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have favors my fic. Hope everyone's New Year Holiday was fantastic!
Thank you: psych522, Angleus Draco, alina290, bicycletracks, hkmac, and guest for the reviews.
To psych522: Thank you for your read. It's not easy to read something that's not your style, so I am thrilled and humbled by your perseverance. I hope you'll enjoy the ride.
To Angelus Draco: I agree that Blaise needs a spanking for his bad behavior. I appoint myself to be the one to do inflict his punishment. ;p
To alina290: You're very welcome!
To bicycletracks: Thank you so much for the reviews and, yes, blow means the drugs.
To hkmac: I'm glad you are enjoying the story. Thank you for the review.
What is blow? According to OnlineSlangDictionary, International Movie Database, and Bruce Porter, writer of the book Blow which was then made into a film starring Johnny Depp and Penelope Cruz, blow is to snort (cocaine). Furthermore, the term blow is one of many slang words for the drug.
I now present Chapter 19! Read and Review, please. Also, if you feel the need to criticize, I ask that you do it constructively, so I can better my work in the future. If you don't and are simply mean in the name of being opinionated, then I have no choice but to bombard this site with horrid writing. Thank you.
"You got her to agree with a meeting?" Lucius asked in intrigue before sticking the mouth piece of his pipe into his mouth. He sat in his hotel room on one of the sofa chairs next to the furnace while Narcissa sat next to him in the other with a cup of tea in her hand, hope glistening in her eyes.
"Yes," Blaise answered while pouring himself a cuppa Room Service had delivered to the room for Narcissa.
"Oh, Darling," Narcissa said happily and reached over to place her hand on her husband's. "This is wonderful. I can't wait to see our grandson." She turned back to Blaise, not noticing his contrite stare. "You said it was his birthday today. I should go get him a present. What do little boys like these days?"
"Is he too young for a broom? While returning to the inn today, we passed by that broom shop, didn't we, Cissa? They had those training brooms displayed in the window. Very nice, very nice, indeed," mentioned Lucius and took another puff of his pipe before asking Blaise. "Now how did you get her to agree to the meeting, my boy? She was quite hostile with me. I'd like to know how you got out of there alive."
"Oh, you two," Narcissa scoffed and batted a hand. "She's obviously come to her senses. She must have realized Alex needs his grandparents with Draco no longer here." She checked her watch and set her cup and saucer down on the glass table beside her and walked towards the door, picking up her purse from entry table. "I think I have time to for a bit of shopping before the meeting. You said at seven, right?"
"Yes, but-" Blaise tried, Narcissa cutting him off.
"Perfect." She waved goodbye at the two men before bustling out the door. The younger man groaned and looked at his tea in question.
"I think I'm going to need something stronger. Hope you don't mind but," Blaise pulled out a flask from his inner coat pocket and poured what he called 'vitamin D' into his cup, "I think I need this."
"You barely made it out of there alive, didn't you?" inquired Lucius with a quirked brow and nodded in empathy. "She's quite vile, isn't she? I worry for the child's manners."
"Alex has the manners of an eight year old begat by a Muggle-Born," muttered Blaise, remembering how the boy scarfed down his birthday cake.
"Ah, yes, you got to speak with him today. I dare hope his mother planned a decent party for him."
"He looked like he was enjoying himself," Blaise replied with twitching lips, thinking of Alex's laughter while telling the boy and his friends about Draco's early childhood.
"So I ask again, Blaise. How did you get her to agree with the meeting? I couldn't even get a bloody word in last night." The man then smirked knowingly. "You charmed her, didn't you? Flirted and acted like a true gentleman."
The younger wizard snorted and took the seat Narcissa vacated, leaving his tea on the counter and settling for his flask.
"I'm afraid, my good man, that shite doesn't work on her, especially now with…with Draco not being here. She'd probably think me even more abhorrent if I had started commenting on her physical features not long after telling her the news."
"Then how did you get her to agree?"
Nursing his flask, Blaise swallowed with a hum and looked at Lucius with a cringe. "That I can't tell you."
Lucius stroked his chin and pursed his lips. "Hmm. Interesting. Blackmail. You got something on her, I assume. I like your style, son. Is it any good? The leverage, I mean?"
"That's an understatement, Mr. Malfoy. An understatement in its shiniest form."
Lucius frowned and narrowed his eyes into slits at Blaise. "If it was that good, how come you only settled for a damned meeting? You could have made her return to England with the boy."
"That woman was barmy enough to chance her secret being exposed than agree to anything more than a meeting. Speaking of, I tried to tell this to you both when the Misses was here, but Hermione only agreed to meet with her and no one else. You can't be there. I can't be there. Alex won't be there."
"This is absurd! Narcissa and I want to meet the boy!"
"I did the best I could, but that woman is thoroughly mental. I have no idea what Draco even saw in her."
"Funny you should say that. Years ago, I wondered that myself. He may have been able to hide it from his mother and his friends, but I knew he took a fancy to her back in school. He seemed to enjoy talking about her when he would return home during the holidays or summer; although, kind words were never said. What say you? You were around him those years more than I. Did he talk about her in school?"
Blaise smiled wryly. "You know, thinking back, I can recall times he bemoaned her existence but…" It was considered blasphemy to speak of private events and or private discussions of which had been held in the Hogwarts dungeons where the Slytherins dwelt. But a graduated viper could talk a little hush, hush business to another if needs be. "He was not the only one down in the pit exaggerating their hatred for her."
"You?" inquired Lucius in mild surprise.
"No," he answered honestly. At the time, he hadn't thought Granger to be worth a waste of his own breath.
"I am curious to know who else Miss Granger besotted, but I do find it all quite odd. She's rather hostile, and I can't imagine any respectable lad tolerating it. How did my son not go around the twist with that beast's voice screeching in his ear?"
"I'm sure if his visits had been more frequent," snickered Blaise and then sobered quickly. "He visited her and the boy a few times a year. I don't recall telling you that."
"Good to know. So not often then." Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "It explains how I cannot recall him leaving England unless on business. I suppose he lied to me and Cissa about some of those trips. Have you spoken personally with Miss Granger regarding her and Draco's relationship?"
"Yesterday, she did give me some insight on their relationship earlier in the child's life but not much. I'm assuming, given the circumstances with Draco's engagement to Astoria, Hermione's and his romantic life did not last which is expected if she was here and he was back home the majority of the time."
The two men discussed the 'what ifs' and assumptions of the small amount of information they had about Draco, Alex, and Hermione. The conversation eventually shifted back to what would occur that evening at Marnella's and made jokes and comedic theories on how the whole bloody thing would go awry, and they would be back to square one.
Blaise had shared his flask with Lucius, their tongues loose and thoughts bare.
Actually, Blaise started taking pretend nips at the flask once Lucius began sniffling when reciting a memory of young Draco gallivanting through the Manor hallways with bottled quill ink stuffed into his trouser pockets.
Cheeks rosy and eyes red-rimmed, Lucius wheezed, "He wasn't yet six and had swiped some of my ink from the office and was running about the property leaving little black handprints in his wake. Got the whipping of his life once I finally caught up with him. It took me a little time to figure out to follow the giggles and not the handprints. He was leading me astray with those. On purpose. He was cunning, even then." His smile was proud and liquid-y. "But like a baby chick, he couldn't keep quiet to save his rump.
"The handprints had to be removed, naturally, but Cissa had wanted to keep them, wanting a token of his younger years. Draco was going to grow and causing childish mayhem would no longer appease him. She wanted a reminder of that innocence, but I brushed off her want. I thought it uncomely to have little, tiny *sigh* black handprints peppered on the carpet, walls, and portraits. His hands were so small. For his age, he was so small, so little. Who knew he would grow as tall as he did? Is Alex small?"
"Very," Blaise hoarsely whispered, his own eyes burning. He watched Lucius sigh heavily and lean his head back against the chair with closed eyes. He took the flask from the man's slackening fingers and eyed it with a betrayed frown. Perhaps he should cut back on the drinking. Nothing emasculated a man like a rare brew of Ogden's Finest.
Narcissa looked at her watch and at the clock on the wall to make sure the time was not lying to her.
Miss Granger was late and Lucius and Blaise were not there either.
All of them were thirteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds late to be exact.
"Another refill on your wine, Ma'am?" asked her server with a bottle ready in his hands.
"Yes, please," she replied and checked her watch again.
"Are you waiting for someone? I can get another glass if you'd like."
Narcissa hid her frown with a polite smile. "You know, that would be lovely." Having a drink ready for Miss Granger might put things off to a good start…if she actually made herself present.
The woman peered at her surroundings, hoping to find a girl with bushy curls and a rail thin body. Those attributes were all she could remember of how Miss Granger looked like the last time she saw her. The girl had also been filthy with ragged clothes and eighteen years old, so Narcissa was aware she may not recognize a thirty-one year old version.
When the waiter returned with the extra glass, he asked, "Our special tonight is the Tomato Florentine if you are interested, Ma'am. Would you care for a bowl while you wait for your friend?"
"That would be lovely, thank you," Narcissa said with a pleased grin but sighed in exasperated aggravation when he left.
Marnella's was a nice restaurant with a classy bar in the middle of the room. Narcissa wondered why Hermione decided to meet there and with Alex. She did not want to be presumptuous, but the establishment seemed a bit out of Miss Granger's price range. From the way Lucius described the woman's home, money was something she did not have ample amounts of.
"Mrs. Malfoy," a woman's voice tore her out of her musings and she hurriedly turned her head, excitement speeding up her heart.
"Miss Granger?" she inquired, wanting to be sure the woman was who she hoped for and, like she thought earlier, Hermione looked nothing like she did thirteen years ago. In place of the skinny child with unruly hair was a fully developed woman with thick, but tamed, brown curls held back in a bun away from her surprisingly lovely face. She had nice bone structure, a small but pretty mouth, and almond shaped brown eyes. Her figure was of one who did not mind a full meal followed by dessert. The attire she chose to wear was uninspiring and not at all what someone should where to such an elegant establishment. How did the girl get passed the Maître'd wearing Muggle jeans, Bearpaw boots, and a thin gray, zip-up jacket?
Miss Granger must've felt her scrutiny, for the younger witch raised an eyebrow, tearing Narcissa out of her stupor.
"I'm sorry," the older witch apologized stiffly, trying her best not appear offended at Hermione's complete lack of etiquette for her and their surroundings. She gestured to the empty chair across from her with the full wine glass. "Have a seat. I ordered a drink for you. Do you like white wine?"
"I don't drink," Hermione clipped and eyed the chair like she knew it would burst into flames the moment her bottom touched the cushion.
Narcissa bit her tongue and pressed her lips together so tightly, they started to tingle. She then realized Hermione was there alone. Where was the boy?
"Where's the boy?" she stumbled out and blushed from mortification and put a hand to her mouth and winced, the excitement she felt earlier rapidly diminishing with each second.
Hermione glared at her. "He's not here nor was his presence part of the agreement between Blaise and me. Did he not tell you that?"
"No," Narcissa said, disappointment in her tone, but she would not lose hope. Breathing deeply to pick herself up, she continued, "And that's perfectly fine. To be expected, actually. It's good mothering on your part. It's unwise to introduce your children to strangers."
Hermione's glare turned acidy, and she opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the returning waiter. Thank Gods for small but needed disturbances.
The waiter placed the bowl of soup in front of Narcissa and then noticed Hermione, his eyes widening momentarily in surprise before slowly gliding them up her form before asking with even more politeness than he displayed with the older witch, "Is your seat unaccommodating, Miss Granger? Would you like me to provide you one with a fuller cushion from the brandy room?"
"No thank you, Mr. Li," she said and hesitantly lowered herself into the chair across from Narcissa.
"I'll get this out your way." The waiter, Mr. Li, took the wine glass from her with a grin. To Narcissa, it was the kind of grin a person gave another when both were thinking the same thing. "I'll bring you some mint tea."
The waiter left them but not without molesting Hermione with his fixated gaze once more. Feeling scandalized and more than a little offended, Narcissa smiled a forced one and asked her, "You're a regular here, I assume. It is a nice place. Nice staff." She was unable to prevent her tongue from accentuating the word 'nice' with an undertone of aversion. Hermione and Mr. Li obviously knew each other well. He knew she didn't drink and preferred mint tea over any other teas. And Narcissa may be a prude, but she knew men. She knew there were two types of leers men gave women: the 'I think I may like what's underneath your robes' look and the 'I know I like what's underneath your robes' look.
"No, I'm not. I've never been here, actually," Hermione informed in a matter-of-fact tone as she scanned the area around her, her eyes lingering here and there. "I've only heard about it through friends."
Hermione's comment bewildered Narcissa. If the girl had never been to Marnella's, why did she choose to meet there? To see the waiter? To show Narcissa how little Draco's memory was worth to Hermione by parading her lover whose employment was to wait tables?
Polite and patient façade stripped away, Narcissa licked her teeth and flared her nostrils, an insult on the tip of her tongue but stopped short of saying it. Instead, she gathered what little decorum she had left and grasped onto reserved groveling. "I'm sorry for Lucius' behavior last night. He should have not done what he did."
"No, he shouldn't have," Hermione agreed coldly, and Narcissa's hackles rose up and she balled her fists, her new manicure digging into the palms of her hands.
"So you haven't been here before?" Narcissa asked breathily, her composure dwindling to nothing. "Did you come for the waiter then? Do you come for him often?"
Hermione's jaw dropped, and Narcissa's hands flew to her mouth and started shaking her head. Oh dear, oh dear! She did not say that. She would never say that. What kind of societal, high-class woman would say that to another person and especially in such a public place? Especially with the circumstances. Was she or was she not trying to get into Miss Granger's good graces so she could see her grandson. Blessed Morgana, she should have held her tongue. A lady of her standing did not stoop to such crass verbiage.
"Excuse me?" Hermione hissed, her cheeks reddening in fury.
"I am so sorry, Miss Granger. I can't believe I said that. I don't know what came over me. I'm usually more reticent and polite."
"You probably are for those who you deem more important than I!" she hissed, keeping her voice low as to not draw attention to the table.
Closing her eyes and scoffing, Narcissa felt tears stinging her eyes. The night was going horribly. If there had ever been a chance to meet Alex before, there certainly was not one anymore thanks to her. She should have not taken the intimacy between Miss Granger and Mr. Li so personally. It was Hermione's business and had nothing to do with Draco and most certainly not her. The reason why the younger witch invited her to Marnella's was still a mystery, but there were more pressing matters to discuss.
"Miss Granger," Narcissa sadly laughed and opened her eyes. "At this moment, there is no one more important to me than you."
Expectedly, the girl tossed her a dubious expression. "You're only saying that because you want to meet Alex."
"Of course I am and of course I do because it's the truth. You are the one person blocking everything I feel I have lost. From a mother to a mother, I beg you, let me see him."
"From a mother to a mother, Mrs. Malfoy, you have to know it's not that simple." The younger witch shook her head and rested her forearms on the table and leaned forward, and Narcissa tried hard to no chastise her for her lack of elegance.
"It can be if you let it," Narcissa urged.
"Fine then. I can't let it be that simple, and…and seeing Alex won't bring back what you've lost. It won't bring back Draco, and Alex is not him. He's not his dad."
"I know," Narcissa whispered, more to herself than to Hermione.
Mr. Li came back with the tea, taking longer than necessary to place it in front of Hermione.
"Thank you," she told him when he finally managed to set the cup and saucer on the table.
"You're very welcome, Miss Granger," Mr. Li said and then proceeded to take his time leaving the table. "Would you care for the Tomato Florentine, as well?"
"No, I'm fine, Mr. Li."
"Something sweet, then? There is one more slice of French Vanilla Merengue cake for the evening."
Narcissa watched Hermione's jaw tick before opening her mouth, and the older witch could practically see the reprimand on the tip of her tongue. But then, the girl's mouth closed and then pursed. "One slice left, you said?"
The waiter finally departed but would return soon with Miss Granger's cake. Narcissa had been right about the dessert bit.
Picking up her wine glass, she daintily sipped her drink and then sat it back down upon suggesting, "Let's not discuss Draco right now. Perhaps not even Alexander at this moment. What I'd like to discuss is you, for now. I practically know nothing about you, Miss Granger, and if I may never properly meet my grandson, I want to be sure he is being raised more than sufficiently. I think that's fair, don't you?"
Hermione said nothing at first, letting the ticking seconds purposely stab at Narcissa. Her brown eyes skimmed over her surroundings again to be sure the people she knew would be there were still there. She then set her focus back on Draco's mother and leaned forward and asked, "Mrs. Malfoy, do you know why I chose Marnella's?"
Narcissa was put off by her question entirely. True, she had wondered the same thing, but it was an odd and abrupt question.
"For the cake?" Narcissa guessed.
Hermione shook her head. "I've never had the cake before. Like I said, I've never been here."
"The staff, I presume?" Narcissa guessed again, this time with edginess in her tone. "Miss Granger, what are you-"
"I chose this place because it's Saturday night. Do you see that man over there sitting at the bar sipping at his martini?" Hermione pointed to a pumpkin-shaped man with a thin mustache and pointed goatee who was chatting with the barkeep jovially. "His name is Mr. Lau Chan and every Saturday night, he comes to Marnella's and orders three vodka martinis while he waits for his nineteen year old mistress to arrive. Her name is Darlene Farnswick, and she sells coffee and pastries for a living. Never mind her, though, because Mr. Lau Chan is my solicitor. Despite his infidelity towards the misses, he is considered the top attorney in the north eastern region of the States. A few years ago, I had to file a lawsuit against some very well-to-do individuals with equally impressive attorneys. Believe it or not, Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Lau Chan won my case."
"What are you trying to say, Miss Granger? That you have a good lawyer? Is it necessary to contact our advocates?"
"Apparently so. I know it's belated, but I apologize for being late. I received an owl," Hermione paused to stick her hand into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, "from a Mr. John Woods forewarning me of legal actions that may occur if I do not grant you and your husband visiting rights to my son."
Narcissa inwardly groaned and sighed, her shoulder sagging. The blasted buffoon of lawyer was not supposed send the letter until Monday. That was the agreement! She had sent Mr. Woods a quick Owl before coming to Marnella's saying she would persue the legalities if Miss Granger continued to be stubborn, and she would contact him with the go-ahead on Monday.
"I'm so glad I chose this place." Hermione's smile looked forced and shattered. "And not just because my lawyer is here. See that man over there in the far right corner?"
Narcissa did not look at where her finger was pointed but stared blankly at Hermione.
"He actually lives in Boston, but every weekend he visits this humble town of Salem to see his children and chats with the officers at the police station. His daughter-in-law owns this restaurant, so he dines here with his son and wife on Fridays or Saturdays. It looks like I'm quite lucky he chose tonight to be here. Did I mention he's an Auror?"
Narcissa's nails broke into the skin of her palms, feeling the wet sting of the tiny open wounds. Lifting her chin and slitting her eyes, she squared her shoulders and regrouped. She was not going let this little, smart-mouthed tart of a Mudblood get the best of her. She should have been prepared, but who knew Hermione Granger, War Heroine and friend to the Chosen One, was conniving as she was dangerous. But most women transformed into unpredictable creatures when becoming a mother. Narcissa thought she had been impressively cunning in her younger years during her Hogwarts days, but the truth was, she had never been more of a hazard as of when she gave birth to Draco, when she first held him.
"I care little that there's an Auror here, Miss Granger. It's unavoidable to be swarmed by the authorities when visiting another country because of what the war did to the Malfoy name."
"No." Hermione shook her head. "What your husband did to the name, and it's recognizable here in the States, as well. It broke Draco's heart when I told him his son could not attend school with his last name, but there was no way Alex would have been granted admittance, regardless of money or talent, if the name Malfoy had been attached. I had to put my last name on the papers."
Narcissa cocked her head to the side and frowned at Hermione. "Does the boy have the Malfoy name on his birth certificate?"
"Not that it matters, but yes. Legally, his last name is not my own."
Hermione felt a shift in the air between her and Narcissa. The woman's rigidness, which had be constant since her arrival, deflated. Her cold, cautious eyes widened and then slanted, a smirk forming on her lips.
"Oh, Miss Granger, it most certainly does matter."
"Here's your cake, Miss Granger." Mr. Li appeared with the plate of a four-layered slice of French Vanilla Merengue Cake and a fork. He placed it in front of Hermione and winked at her before leaving. He didn't see Narcissa move her forgotten bowl of soup side, grabbing the fork and sliding the dish towards herself, taking a bite with a triumphant grin.