LADY MALFOY

by greatest.wit

AU. NON-MAGIC. Set in 19th century, it is a story of a young woman who sacrifices her future to save her family from utter poverty. See whether her sacrifice turns out to be a blessing or not. Draco/fem!Harry.

22. Chapter 22: Love troubles

LADY MALFOY

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related belongs to J. K. Rowling. And the places I mention, in the story do not belong to me.

Author's note: My extreme thanks to my beta, La baguette for not only helping me with the editing, but also providing some information on 19th century.

Wow. So many reviews! I don't know whether to feel happy about it or sad that I got flamed for the first time.

Firstly, I want to clear one thing: I never have nor will I ever withhold chapters just to get more reviews. Yes, I said that these two chapters combined crossed 20000 words but the truth is I never finished writing the Love trouble part when I posted the Anniversary chapter. What I meant by my author's note was that I would be spurned to finish it quickly and post it if I got some motivations i.e. through reviews. And it did, I spent most of the weekend finishing it. I wrote over last 5000 words of this chapter after I posted the first part. Both chapters combined have now crossed 27000 words, go figure.

About the lack of drama: if I had combined the two chapters, I guess you would not have said so. I can tell you that the story is going to pick up heat from this chapter.

About rare updates: I am sorry for making you wait for chapters. I have a deadline of finishing this story by the end of March, so I am going to work hard at getting it done.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, NON-MAGIC. Harry is a female. You will find swear words but quite seldom. The Grangers' bashing. I will add further warnings as story progresses.

Chapter 22: Love troubles

After breakfast on a mid-November morning, Draco chose, in a rare act, to sojourn in the morning room with Alexandra and Harriet for a while before departing to the factory. Draco would never admit that this new development has spurred from his wife's call of attention to his grandmother's impressions of his narcissistic behaviour.

When Landen entered and handed a letter to Alexandra, "It's from Augusta," she informed the curious couple, breaking open the seal on the letter to read.

"What does she say?" Draco asked causally when she finally set the correspondence aside.

"Other than denouncing her grandson's purported inadmissible disposition towards his family honour, nothing much," Alexandra replied with a sigh.

Draco grunted in response.

"That is because the woman is ignorant of Mr. Longbottom's botanical works. Lady Longbottom views his efforts in the same light as common gardening," Harriet huffed, indignant on Neville's behalf.

Draco's eyebrows rose incredibly at his wife's blatant reproach toward Lady Augusta Longbottom. The only similarity between the woman and his grandmother, Draco found was that they both had been compelled to assume and then survive the position of top authority in their respective families, especially in a male dominated society. While Alexandra still carried a gentle grace about her, Augusta was overbearing in her deportment, he assessed with distaste. After every meeting with the woman, Draco internally thanked the Lord for blessing him with Alexandra instead of her as his grandmother. Despite that he held no affable feelings towards his grandmother's friend, Draco was taken aback by Harriet's open admission of her surly perception of the woman. With the exception of his parents and the Dursleys for obvious reasons, he never heard Harriet speak ill of people.

Seeing his expression as well as the inquisitive one Alexandra was casting at her, Harriet explained with a hint of disapprobation, "His own grandmother has no knowledge of the excellent progress the man is making in improving the quality and quantity of edible vegetation. Why, my new garden is an excellent proof of his industry. I was able to harvest the plants a week earlier than usual simply because I followed his directions during the process of plantation."

A scowl made an appearance on Draco's face when Harriet announced confidently next, "In the coming few years, Mr. Longbottom will be applauded by everyone for his discoveries; I am sure of it."

"In that case, it is a quite unfortunate time for Neville," Alexandra acknowledged heavily.

"On his last visit, Mr. Longbottom confided in me how tired he was becoming of his Grandmother's unyielding stance. He told me that he was willing to accept the Lordship but didn't want to abandon his passion for botany because of the responsibilities that would undoubtedly come with the title," Harriet divulged to them and then focussing her attention on Alexandra, she queried, "Can't you convince Lady Longbottom to bestow the Lordship to Mr. Longbottom and then, allow him to appoint a trustworthy steward to look after their properties, Grandma?"

Draco's steely eyes narrowed upon Harriet's fervent advocating of Neville's cause.

"Yes, that is a solution that would appease everyone but something Augusta is not willing to consider. She hopes that marriage will set Neville on her self-perceived right path and hence, she is in search of a suitable wife for her Grandson," Alexandra told them.

At that piece of nonsensical logic, Draco suppressed a snort of derision.

"Mr. Longbottom would never take a wife who would be insensitive to his dreams and aspirations!" Harriet demurred strongly.

Draco's jaw tightened while the blood boiled in his veins at hearing his wife's praises as well as concerns directed at that fat-arsed Longbottom. Draco leapt out of the chair before he could no longer prevent himself from snapping at Harriet. "Excuse me, ladies. I must leave for business," he made an excuse through gritted teeth.

Alexandra frowned slightly, having noticed the abrupt change in his demeanour but nodded at him in farewell, nonetheless.

Unbeknownst to Draco's disgruntlement at her, "Oh, have a wonderful day, Mr. Malfoy," Harriet bid cheerfully after her swiftly striding off husband. Hearing that, Draco pursued his lips in a tiff.

The expression on Alexandra's face altered with a small, indulgent smile unfolding across her mouth at Harriet's perky attitude towards her grandson. Shaking her head in affectionate amusement to herself at the young woman's besotted state, "Dearest," Alexandra called in an attempt to gain the attention of Harriet who was still intently staring at the doorway through which Draco had just left. When Harriet snapped her head back to her, Alexandra continued, pretending not to notice the light flush spreading across her cheeks, "I didn't think it would have been appropriate to mention this in front of Draco, but Augusta includes in her letter that your friend, Miss Granger has caught her eye. She has included her in the list of suitable matches for Neville."

Eyes widened in alarm, "Oh no, you have to dissuade Lady Longbottom of such intentions at once, Grandma!" Harriet urged desperately, her previous embarrassment completely forgotten.

"Why? Don't you think Miss Granger would be an appropriate match for Neville? Or is it the other way round?" Alexandra asked, simply bemused.

"No, that is not the case!" Harriet denied vehemently. "I think Hermione would make an excellent wife to the man she marries. And Mr. Longbottom, I feel definite that he could make any woman happy. Only there is a matter of heart..." she trailed off in a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Alexandra enquired, her expression puzzled.

Harriet hesitated knowing that it wasn't her secret to disclose but she relented at last, solely for the sake of making the older woman understand the gravity of her request. "Please don't repeat this anywhere," Harriet implored first and at Alexandra's solemn nod, she spoke in a hushed tone, "My friend, Hermione, she is already in love with someone, and I know that the said young man returns thse feelings whole-heartedly."

Alexandra's expression cleared in comprehension. "Is he an amiable gentleman then?" the older woman enquired curiously.

Biting her lip, "He is my youngest brother, Ronald," Harriet mumbled with a tentative smile.

"Indeed," Alexandra chuckled.

"Yes, they have had feelings for each other for as long as I could remember. Ron and Hermione only recognised these feelings as love a couple of years ago," Harriet expressed with fond exasperation.

'When will you see that you are in the same boat as they were once, Harriet?' Alexandra mused gazing at the gay woman sitting across from her.

---

It was the first week of December and after breakfast, Harriet did not waste a single moment to make herself comfortable in the morning room and earnestly started working on her Christmas gifts while Alexandra provided her silent companionship.

When Landen arrived with the morning post, Harriet promptly set her embroidery aside upon noticing a letter for her from Hermione. Enthusiastically tearing the envelope open, Harriet withdrew the letter and unfolded it.

My dearest Harriet,

How are you and your marital family? I apologize for the lack of usual pleasantries for I am too fraught to offer proper greetings.

I wish to say that I am well, but that would be a lie. I have recently come to realize that the fears of which I spoke to you last summer were indeed, not unfounded. Ever since your wedding, my parents have been fretting over my matrimony, especially considering that I am almost a year older than you. Not that I blame youfor it. We have been prepared for 'The coming out' since our girlhood after all.

Seeing the extremely prosperous and appealing match you have made for yourself, my father has been fantasising of me achieving similar for myself. Over the past month, father started voicing his desires time and again but I have somehow managed to ignore them. Only last afternoon I learnt that I could no longer do so. Father admitted that he had been hoping that at least one of the handful of affluent, young men living either in or around Wiltshire would come forward to request my hand in marriage. When no such thing happened, father was greatly disappointed. The situation took a horrifying turn for me when father's discontent transformed into an unflappable determination to ensure my marriage into a wealthy family. Father announced that he shall be taking me to London during this season so that I can be introduced in one of the formal balls of Marriage Mart. Father apprised us of the arrangements he had made with my Aunt Rosamund with whom we shall be living during our stay in town. And I am afraid to say that father plans to take mother and me to London a week after Christmas.

Mother is excited about the visit, of course and is eagerly planning for clothes that I will need to wear for attending those extravagant events. Like father, she is ignorant of my sentiments concerning his designs and I am left distraught. The thought of marrying someone other than Ronald is inconceivable. If such a thing were to happen, I know I would only make the lives of both my future husband and myself miserable, for I can't love another man like I love your brother.

Speaking of, Ronald remains unaware of the daunting challenges I am about to face. You must know, Harry, I can't dare approach my parents with my feelings for him until Ron verbally acknowledges his affections, at least to me. It has been several months since Ron recognised his feelings towards me as attraction, if I were to believe you. Yet he hasn't acted upon them. Now, Ronald's dormancy in this matter makes me wonder whether his feelings are deep enough to motivate him into marriage.

Hours of ambivalent contemplations have turned me into a hopeless wreck, at least at heart. And even though you are far from me, I felt that you are the only person with whom I could share my troubles. Still, I am sorry, Harry, if I ruined your day with my grievances.

Your distressed friend

Hermione Jane Granger

By the time Harriet finished reading her best friend's correspondence, the blood had drained from her face. Harriet didn't even realise when she had risen from her seat.

"Is everything all right, darling?" Alexandra questioned her awfully pale and petrified-looking granddaughter-in-law while frowning in concern.

At Alexandra's voice, Harriet jolted out of her stupor and then without a reply, she flew out of the room.

Espying the butler in the foyer, Harriet demanded of him urgently, "Has Mr. Malfoy left for the factory, Francis?"

Though startled at first, Francis recollected himself in a fraction. "Yes, Madam. He left just a minute ago," he answered stoically.

Throwing decorum to the wind, Harriet dashed towards the great door. Skidding to a halt at the entrance porch, Harriet saw Draco's personal carriage ambling toward the Manor gates.

"Stop, Vincent, please stop. Mr. Malfoy, please wait," Harriet shouted loudly. In the next instant, she sighed in relief when Crabbe stopped the movement of horses and turned around whilst Draco struck his shining pale blond head out of the window and turned backward with a bewildered expression.

Panting, Harriet effusively signalled at them to come back. Upon Draco's acquiescence, Crabbe turned the carriage around and trotted it towards the courtyard. As soon as the carriage approached the porch, Harriet rushed towards the door from where Draco was dismounting.

"Mr. Malfoy, I must visit Biddestone today!" Harriet insisted without preamble.

Taking in her uncommonly pale face as well as the anxiety and desperation in her countenance, Draco frowned. "Is something wrong with your family, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Oh no, Sir. My family is absolutely fine," Harriet confirmed with an emphatic nod. "It just that my friend, Hermione, she needs me right now."

"Has something happened to her?" Draco questioned her next.

"She is not ill or something if that's what you mean to ask, it just….er…." Harriet faltered, feeling extremely reluctant to expose another woman's private problems to her husband.

Understanding Harriet's reticence, Draco spared her from answering by inquiring, "How long do you wish to stay there?"

"Oh, I shall return to the Manor before nightfall, Mr. Malfoy. I promise," Harriet hastened to assure him.

Taking a quick scrutiny of her plain morning attire, Draco came to a decision. "I have a meeting this morning. If you would wait till the afternoon---" Draco stopped at Harriet's vehement shake of the head. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Draco spoke again after a moment's thought, "---fine, after I reach the factory, I shall send Crabbe back here to escort you to Biddestone and then order him to return to me. I shall collect you on my way back to the Manor around four in the afternoon. Is that all right with you?" his brow arched questioningly at her.

"Yes, thank you," Harriet responded with a grateful smile.

Giving her a curt nod in reply, Draco turned to embark the carriage again.

"Adieu, Mr. Malfoy. I will see you in the afternoon," Harriet called, waving a hand at him.

Alexandra was waiting for her in the foyer when Harriet re-entered the house.

"I am sorry for rushing off like that, Grandma," Harriet apologized sincerely, meeting Alexandra's gaze upon her.

Alexandra waved a dismissive hand at her words. "I perceived that something must have happened to set you off in such a state of panic. What's the matter, sweetheart?" she gently coaxed her.

Sighing heavily, Harriet joined Alexandra on the settee and explained the situation as well as her plan in a voice no louder than a whisper so as not to be heard by the servants walking about on their duties.

"Well, I have confidence that you will be able to convince Miss Granger's parents and settle the matter in such a way as adheres to the satisfaction and happiness of all involved," Alexandra declared with an encouraging nod at her.

"I hope so, Grandma," Harriet smiled weakly and then standing, she added, "Well, I ought to get dressed before Vincent returns."

Alexandra nodded with a recommendation, "Bundle yourself warmly, dear. I do believe that the weather this morning is extra frosty."

Giving her a nod in acceptance, Harriet ascended the grand stairs that led to the master suite.

---

Dressed in the warmest of her clothes, Harriet awaited the arrival of Draco's coach in the foyer. Her patience began to wear as hours passed.

It was almost time for lunch and there was still no sign of Vincent. Harriet's worries for Hermione were now coupled with the concerns over her husband's well being. When her mind started conjuring scenarios that involved some kind of harm to Draco's health, Harriet sprang on her feet and started pacing frenziedly while frequently glancing up at the wall clock.

"Sit down, darling. You will give yourself a faint!" Alexandra remarked at last.

"I can't wait for Vincent anymore, Grandma. I must know if Mr. Malfoy is all right and for that, I have to find some other means of travel," Harriet said, sounding agitated as she turned to face Alexandra.

"Surely, you don't want go on horseback in this weather?" Alexandra asked, aghast.

"Draco will be fine. Their carriage must have been broken on the way," she reasoned, though internally she was starting to get a bit worried for her grandson herself.

"Yes of course, I agree with you against going horseback," Harriet said knowing full well that she could never muster the courage to mount a horse without her husband there to supervise her riding. "But Grandma, I will continue to feel restless until I know for certain," she added forcefully.

Heavily sighing, Alexandra nodded at her in cognisance. "How else would you reach the factories?" she asked, perplexed after a moment's pause.

Harriet bit her lip in thought. "Could I take the wagon that we use to import the weekly provisions to the Manor? I shall ask Dean to drive the wagon instead of a steed to take the food for the children," she suggested at last, staring expectantly at the older woman.

"It would be neither a suitable nor a comfortable ride for a lady of your stature, Harriet," Alexandra protested with a disapproving frown. "If you insist on going, then take my carriage."

"Oh no, I absolutely refuse to do that!" Harriet objected with a hint of chastising in her tone towards Alexandra for even suggesting it. "What if you needed the carriage in my absence? Please allow me to take the wagon. I have travelled in much worst transports; I'll be fine, Grandma. I will also make sure to remain discreet."

With a resigned sigh, Alexandra relented upon the hopeful look Harriet was directing at her.

---

Half an hour later, Harriet boarded the hooded wagon and said contritely, "I am sorry, Dean for subjecting you to this nasty weather."

"That's all right, Mrs. Malfoy," Dean responded with an assuring smile.

"Well then, don't hesitate to encourage the horses to a sprint. I will try to hold the container still," Harriet instructed while pulling up the hood of her cloak to cover her head and face.

"Very well, Ma'am."

By the time they reached the gates of the Malfoy factories, Harriet's cheeks were flushed both from the exertion of holding the container to keep it from spilling the broth with each bump in the road, and from the biting cold winds rushing inside the windowless wagon. In addition, Harriet was feeling a combination of relief and anxiety when they did not sight Draco's coach on their way.

"I will stay inside. Go inquire Macnair after Mr. Malfoy and come back to notify me," Harriet charged him and as an afterthought, she added, "Do not reveal my presence."

Dean nodded in understanding and left to do as bidden.

Returning a couple of moments later, Dean conveyed, "Macnair says that Lord Malfoy arrived at the factory around ten in the morning and is currently in his office—" Hearing that Harriet felt her heart settle in great relief. "—Macnair also told me that Crabbe left for the Manor thereupon Lord Malfoy's order."

Harriet's forehead creased in a frown. "Then where must Vincent be?" she muttered irritably, staring out of the window in thought.

"The carriage might have been broken and Crabbe could have taken it to the blacksmith for repair," Dean intoned in an attempt to alleviate her stress.

Drifting her gaze back to him, Harriet pressed, "Are you certain?"

"It has happened before, Mrs. Malfoy," Dean told her. "Should I go and tell Lord Malfoy about this?

"No, no," Harriet dissented quickly. "If that is, in fact, the cause, then there is no point in bothering Mr. Malfoy. We can afford to wait for Vincent until dusk. But now, you will be the one taking me to Swindon."

At that moment, the loud sound of a bell reverberated around the air indicating to the employees of the factories that it was lunchtime.

"You should go," Harriet adjured, handing their stable man the food container. "How long will it take for you to return?"

"Quarter of an hour, ma'am if I hurry," Dean answered her promptly.

"Very well, I will stay here."

Dean nodded and bowed and took his leave.

With nothing else to do but wait for Dean, Harriet reopened the crumpled sheet of Hermione's letter. Re-reading it, Harriet noted that a dirty scribble replaced the small yet beautiful script of her friend. She was dismayed to find the correspondence tittered with several ink smudges that had completely escaped her notice the first time; she had no doubt that tears were the cause of it. 'I won't let you suffer any longer than you already have, Hermione,' Harriet promised with conviction. After all the efforts she had made to ensure her family's happiness, Harriet could not allow her brother's heartbreak. Also, she was certain that her marriage into the Malfoy family was solely responsible for Mr. Granger's sudden greed and for that, she felt guilty.

"I just saw Lord Malfoy talking to one of the supervisors, Mrs. Malfoy. He looked perfectly fine," Dean informed her when he came back from the factory some time later.

Harriet smiled, appreciating his attempt to reassure her. "Thank you, Dean."

---

When the wagon entered the Swindon's business street, Harriet noticed its near desertedness and reckoned that it must be the prevailing chilly winds that were preventing people from leaving the warmth of the interiors.

Harriet's lips parted in the realization of her immediate course when she descried a private message service office. Ordering Dean to a halt, Harriet dismounted the carriage with his help.

"I won't be long," Harriet told him and went into the office. Exchanging greetings with the middle-aged man behind the desk, Harriet asked him for stationary.

Accepting the paper and ink that the man pushed across the desk, Harriet wrote,

My dear Grandmother,

Your grandson is absolutely healthy and is currently at the factories. There is no sign of his coachman or the carriage though. We will take action to locate his whereabouts if he doesn't return to the Manor by this evening. I have decided to let Dean drive me to Biddestone in the wagon and will return to the Manor in it. I will see you before nightfall.

Your loving granddaughter-in-law

Harriet

Reading it once, Harriet carefully folded the letter and tucked it in the envelope. "I want this letter to reach Malfoy Manor within the next half-an-hour," Harriet instructed firmly and then handed the letter and some coins to cover her bill.

"Certainly, Ma'am!" the man exclaimed, his eyes going wide behind his thick glasses when he found a couple of guineas more than the amount.

"Very well." Harriet knew without a doubt that though Alexandra tried to hide her concern for Draco, she must be on pins and needles to be assured of his safety.

---

Dean had to meander the wagon for about 30 yards to reach their next destination. When they did, Harriet climbed down and purposefully strode towards the entrance doors of Mr. Holland's office. A swift appraisal of Harriet's expensive and tasteful attire as well as her confident air of carrying herself was enough for the footman to allow her entry without question.

Elegantly gaiting through the aisle between the array of desks that seated around twenty employees in a long, narrow room, Harriet was acutely aware of the curious yet astonished eyes of the men that were keenly following her movements. Though unnerved by their unblinking stares, Harriet kept the poise befitting of a Malfoy Mistress.

Unlike his colleagues, her brother was so immersed in the piles of accounts scattered in front of him that he did not notice her arrival until Harriet approached his desk and mildly cleared her throat.

Without raising his red head, Ronald said wearily, "Mr. Boothby, I have told you several times already, I have no interest in marrying your niece."

"I should hope so, Ronniekins," Harriet teased with a quirk.

The ink pen currently held in Ron's hand froze mid-task and then snapping his head up, Ron saw Harriet standing in front of him with her glove-clad hand clamped over her mouth. Seeing the mirth dancing in her expressive eyes, Ron gathered that she was suppressing her giggles.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ronald exclaimed, his expression that of great surprise.

Harriet sobered immediately. "Ron, I need to speak with you on an urgent matter. Will you step outside with me for few minutes?" she said intently.

Ron's eyebrows knitted at her serious tone. "All right," he replied, grabbing his coat hanging on the back of his chair.

---

"Ron, a situation has arisen and I thought you must be informed of it without any delay," Harriet said without ceremony when they found themselves outside the office.

"What do you mean? Did something happen to mother, father, brothers, Ginny,…. ….Hermione?" Ron listed, staring at her in panic.

Harriet felt a little of the burden on her bosom receding at that last uttered name.

"No, everyone is fine," Harriet assured him. "Not Hermione though. She is not injured or something," she hastily added.

"What do you mean then?" Ron demanded anxiously.

"Before I say more, I want you to answer my question. Do you love Hermione?" Harriet asked bluntly, subjecting him to a penetrating gaze.

"Harry…" Ron started to protest against answering, his ears turning pink.

"Say yes or no, Ron!" Harriet snapped impatiently.

Ron blanched at her forceful attitude before muttering, "Yes."

Harriet openly released a sigh of relief. "Do you want to marry her?" she inquired him next.

"Harry, it hasn't even been two month since I received my first salary. I have no personal funds to speak of. I can't think of matrimony at this moment," Ron disputed, now starting to understand the reasons behind her questions.

"Ron, I am not saying that you have to marry Hermione now. I am asking whether you intend to marry her at all!" Harriet exclaimed with a scowl.

"Of course, I want to marry her, Harry," Ron ascertained without hesitation.

'Finally!' Harriet thought, smiling at her bewildered-looking brother at last. Then she briefly recounted Hermione's plight to him. By the time Harriet was done, Ron turned pale causing his freckles to stand out predominantly.

"Dear God!" Ron verbally reacted at last.

"Yes, I know," Harriet sighed, watching him sympathetically. "Now we have to prevent Mr. Granger from dragging Hermione away to London."

"How do we do that?" Ron asked pathetically, staring at her.

Rolling her eyes at his already crumbling expression, Harriet explained with a hint of exasperation, "It's simple, isn't it Ron? You have to ask Mr. Granger for his daughter's hand."

"What?" Ron exclaimed his eyes widened in shock. "Harry, I told you I can't…"

"Ron," Harriet interrupted him in a placating tone, "All you have to do is request a long engagement. I will be there. I will take care of everything else."

Seeing his dubious expression, Harriet impelled, "This can't be delayed any longer, Ron. We have to do this now for the sake of Hermione."

"But my job…" Ron trailed off apprehensively.

"I will talk Mr. Holland into letting you take leave for the rest of the day," Harriet offered but when Ron opened his mouth to argue, she added in assurance, "I promise it won't cause any harm to your job."

Ron nodded once in uncertainty and then directed her to his head's private chamber. Harriet pursed her lips in annoyance when the employees who had gathered around one desk to discuss something, most probably her presence, suddenly fell silent upon their reappearance.

When Harriet entered the manager's chamber with Ron, Mr. Holland did not seem too shocked by her presence. The tall, middle-aged man must have been made aware of a young woman's arrival at their workplace and, her subsequent interaction with one of their young employees. Upon scrutinising the berating scowl that he was currently directing at her brother, probably for squandering work on office hours, Harriet deduced that he was a grumpy and austere sort of man. And a strategy formed in her mind on how to manipulate the man into giving in to their request. Shortly after her marriage into the Malfoy family, Alexandra had started training Harriet in the ways of managing different kinds of men as Lady Malfoy while conducting business.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Holland," Harriet greeted, managing a bright smile upon her face.

"Weasley, who is this woman?" Mr. Holland demanded rudely, eying Harriet with a frustrated frown.

"Sir, she is my sister, Mrs. Harriet Malfoy," Ron introduced warily.

Mr. Holland's eyes widened at the next instant. "Lady Malfoy," he breathed in amazement.

"Yes, that is I," Harriet confirmed airily, successively displaying an air of aplomb.

Flustered, Mr. Holland dropped a deep bow to her, which she returned with a small curtsy.

"I beg your pardon, Ma'am. I didn't know. I have, of course, heard of you from Weasley," Mr. Holland muttered nervously.

Harriet regally waved a hand dismissively at his words, leaving Ron bemused while Holland relieved.

"Please, take a seat," Mr. Holland offered politely, gesturing to the wooden chairs across his desk. "What can I do for you?" he asked once they had occupied them.

"I have come to ask a favour of you, Mr. Holland," Harriet began seriously and ignoring his raised brows at her words, she continued, "I was wondering whether you would let Ronald leave for the day with me."

"But …." Holland started to expostulate.

"Yes, Ronald has informed me that there are a lot of accounts that need to be dealt with it," Harriet said curtly, interrupting him. "And I wouldn't dream of disturbing him during his work if it weren't for a situation that needs his immediate attention."

"I…."

Again, Harriet did not give him chance to speak, "But of course, I have no intention of causing you any loss. You will be compensated with twice the amount of money that Ronald makes for his day's work. I believe you could arrange one of the other employees to finish his work, yes?" Harriet then arched a delicate brow at him.

Having no other excuse, Holland silently nodded in acquiescence at last.

"Good," Harriet remarked with a tiny, pleased smile. "You could be assured that Ronald will come back to the office tomorrow with the money. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Holland," she bid, getting on her feet.

Still recovering from the fact that a little woman, despite her high social rank, had effortlessly managed to dominate his decision-making, Mr. Holland slowly rose from his seat and inclined his head in farewell. Harriet and Ron briskly walked away.

Pausing at the doorway, Harriet glanced back at the partially dazed man and said, "I trust Ron's abrupt leave will not affect your report on his clerical deportment in any way, Mr. Holland." Her tone carrying a bit of authoritative warning that perturbed both men.

Dumbstruck, Mr. Holland simply nodded in understanding.

Ignoring Ron's nosy colleagues, Harriet waited as Ron collected his belongings before they left the office. As soon as they stepped out of the entrance door, their murmurs grew into a loud buzz.

A satisfied smirk curled across Harriet's lips when she heard Hollard bellow, "You can put your wild and ridiculous speculations to rest, Gentlemen. She is his sister." Which was followed by a bark, "And get back to your bloody work!"

Harriet turned to see her brother's reaction but he seemed to be lost, deep in thought. Sighing, Harriet grasped his arm and guided him to the corner of the street where she had asked Dean to wait for her. Their journey to Biddestone passed in a relative silence as both of them were occupied with contemplations over the upcoming impromptu meeting with the Grangers.

---

When the wagon pulled up to the Granger's house, Ron dismounted first and then assisted Harriet down.

"Dean, go to the Burrow and inform my mother of my arrival in Biddestone. Tell her that I have some business with Miss Granger and that I will come home soon. Stay there and have your lunch. If you haven't brought any, don't hesitate to inform mother. We'll walk to the Burrow when we are finished here," Harriet instructed him and as an afterthought, she added, "Also, don't mention Ron's presence with me at all."

Dean nodded dutifully and then galloped the horses down the country street.

Harriet turned back to Ron to find him staring at her quizzically and she explained with a sigh, "You know how mother is. I don't want her to worry unnecessarily."

Ron nodded in understanding and turned ahead to face the wooden gate of the Granger house with trepidation.

Giving him a sanguine smile, "Come on, Ron," Harriet said, looping her arm around his own and then directing the way.

Ron was taut as they trudged the path that lead to the entrance door. Harriet was nervous herself over the outcome of the impending conferment but she could never compare it to the fright that Ron and Hermione must be experiencing at the moment.

"Ron, we are going to act like we know nothing of Mr. Granger's plan to take Hermione for the Season. I have a letter for Hermione hidden in her gift that I will find a way to pass to her. In the letter, I have warned her to act as if she never apprised of it to me," Harriet whispered urgently as they stood waiting at the doorway for the maid to inform her master of their arrival.

Coming back, the maid smiled and led them to the drawing room where Mr. and Mrs. Granger were conversing over tea.

"Harriet, what a pleasant surprise!" Bernard Granger exclaimed, getting on his feet, which his wife mirrored. "Welcome, Ronald."

Smiling warmly, Harriet curtsied to the parents of her best friend while Ron bowed, trying to return their smiles but failing miserably.

"How good to see you, dear!" Emma Granger remarked with a genial smile as she and her husband returned their gestures. They did not question Ron's presence, probably thinking he was merely escorting her, Harriet reckoned.

"You as well, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Harriet replied softly as she and Ron took the proffered seats on the sofa. "How are you?"

"We are quite well, Harriet," Bernard answered for both of them.

"Isn't Hermione about?" Harriet enquired interestedly, glancing at Emma.

"Oh, this morning Hermione said she was having a headache. I believe she is still resting in her room," Emma told her. "I will send the maid for her."

The same maid re-entered the drawing room when Emma rang the bell. "Bertha, inform Hermione of …."

Harriet politely interrupted Emma. "Oh no, Mrs. Granger, I don't want Hermione to be bothered on my behalf if she is ill. Although, I wish you would pass this gift I brought for her from Newbiggin," she said, handing over the package to the maid who nodded politely and left.

"Ah yes, how was your trip to the south-east coast?" Bernard asked inquisitively.

"It was quite wonderful, Sir," Harriet replied with a smile. "The main reason for our trip to Newbiggin was, of course, to attend the wedding of my husband's cousin. But we were able to take a brief tour around the coast in the last two days of our visit and I must say the beach is simply exquisite."

"Yes, it is. I once got the opportunity to visit that place when I was young," Bernard told them, nodding in affirmation of her last statement.

"Did you!" Harriet acknowledged with little surprise.

"Harriet, I believe you celebrated the first wedding anniversary last month?" Emma observed as she offered tea to their two guests.

"We did, Mrs. Granger," Harriet agreed with a shy smile.

"We thought that the Malfoys would be throwing a ball to celebrate the occasion," Bernard remarked with obvious displeasure.

"Actually, my husband escorted me to a private excursion on that day," Harriet admitted demurely, a faint blush colouring her face. Beside her, Ron squirmed, uncomfortable at learning of his sister's private escapades with her husband.

"Of course, darling," Emma responded with an indulgent smile.

"It is surprising that you Malfoys don't seem to organise many parties, balls or soirées," Bernard commented, his tone carrying a hint of accusation, causing Emma to flush a little in embarrassment.

Ron's forehead creased in annoyance at his reprimand.

Harriet smiled a bit forcefully, stifling the urge to bristle in indignation. "That is not the case at all, Sir. We throw at least one ball every season. We had to forgone this year's autumn ball because we had to be away," she reasoned calmly. "In fact, I am planning to organise the winter ball on the 12th day of Christmas," Harriet professed craftily and then feigning an innocent look at the older couple, she added, "I hope you will all oblige our invitation."

Bernard looked a tad bit disappointment at missing such a grand opportunity. "I am afraid we will be in London during that time," he admitted, nonetheless.

"Oh," Harriet said with a deceptively disheartened expression and then a moment later, she announced with a huge, relieved sigh, "Well then, it is good thing that we decided to come now, Mr. Granger. My brother, Ronald has a proposal to make to you."

Nonplussed, the older couple moved their inquisitive gaze to focus on Ron. When no sound came for him, Harriet turned her head sideways to find him laterally frozen in his seat. Annoyed, Harriet imperceptibly gave a sharp nudge with her elbow to his rib.

Biting back a cry of pain, "Y..yes Mr. Granger I…." Ron flattered at the Grangers' keen stares upon him.

At Harriet's encouraging smile, Ron cleared his throat and blurted out, "Mr. Granger, I have come to ask for the privilege of your daughter's hand in marriage."

Bernard's jaw fell open in shock and Emma mirrored his expression with precision.

"What?" Bernard exclaimed at length, having regained his composure first.

Whatever courage Ron had managed to muster was lost upon seeing their reactions. But Harriet wouldn't let him give up so easily and silently prompted him to speak further. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ron said, "Sir, I… have known your daughter since childhood. And over the years of our acquaintance, I learnt a lot about her and have come to admire her both for her intellectual sense as well as gracious sensibilities. Eventually, my feelings for Miss Granger took the form of ardent love. If you bestow your kindness upon me by accepting my marriage proposal to your daughter, I promise that I would spend the rest of my life loving, respecting and cherishing her." His voice had grown stronger and more earnest with each uttered word.

A wide smile was currently gracing Harriet's face as she beamed at her brother. When she turned back to face the older couple, she found Hermione standing in the doorway beyond the seated Grangers, smiling brightly through the tears that were freely cascading down her cheeks while her brown eyes tenderly beheld Ron's blue ones.

"No!" Bernard growled, outraged. Hermione and Ron jumped out of their reverence at his voice. A deep frown marred Harriet's face; she suspected that Mr. Granger might need some persuading, but she never envisioned him to outright reject Ron's proposal.

"You can't dismiss Ron's request without giving him an opportunity to present his case, Mr. Granger. Please, for the sake of my family!" Harriet cried in objection.

Bernard paused, regarding her words and her imploring eyes for a moment. "Alright. Considering the long acquaintance we have had with your family, I will gave him a chance," he consented, reoccupying the chair he had vacated a moment ago while Emma looked uncomfortable at his words as if suspecting what was to come next.

"Other than love and respect, what else do you have to offer my daughter, Mr. Weasley?" Bernard inquired, sarcasm dripping down in his tone.

Ron's ears started to turn red. Seeing the calm and exhorting look Harriet was sending him as well as Hermione's anxious one, Ron spoke, "I have recently started working in Mr. Holland's office in Swindon as an assistant accountant. According to my contract, I would be making around 500 pounds a year."

Harriet hid her wince while Mr. Granger mocked patronizingly, "Is that all?"

"I will most likely get promoted within the next two years. My income will rise accordingly," Ron uttered, his face turning a fierce shade of crimson in embarrassment.

"It won't triple or at least double the current amount, will it?" Mr. Granger queried disparagingly.

Ron's expression darkened in humiliation for he had no argument to that.

"You plan to take care of my daughter and the children that would follow with that measly income of yours?" Mr. Granger sneered with the expression of mock-disbelief.

What followed his words was a tense, stifling silence that Harriet endeavoured to break.

"Of course, that is not all, Sir. Ron was merely informing you about his personal salary. Mr. Granger, you must have heard that my father inherited a cotton factory in Wales; the funds it generates are considerably large. Being the caring and selfless gentleman he is, our father would only want to bestow them upon his son," Harriet reminded him reasonably.

"You mean sons, Mrs. Malfoy," Bernard corrected her pettily. "And have you forgotten your sister for whom your father would have to arrange a dowry? Not all men could afford to be altruistic like your husband," he remarked dryly, giving a pointed glance to Ron.

As if it was enough that Bernard has started inducing cold formality in his address, he had to go dragging her husband into it, Harriet thought, gritting her teeth in frustration. Never in her life, had Harriet seen Bernard Granger act as cruelly as he was behaving at the moment. She found it strange and unsettling.

"Bill didn't desire any dowry, and neither will I!" Ron retorted hotly, terribly offended.

"Speaking of, being the eldest son, William is your father's heir. If William is as generous as you make him to be, then whatever portion of his inheritance he is willing to share, would be divided among five brothers, yourself included. In such a case, the amount you would receive does not credit any consideration," Bernard pointed out, directing a pitying look at Ron.

With temper flared, Ron clenched his hands into fists and forcibly made to stand but Harriet stopped this movement by placing a stilling hand on his arm. "Mr. Granger, what you cited is true in a general scenario but my father firmly believes in demonstrating equality towards all his sons rather than adhering to the old fashioned practices. I assure you with utmost confidence that Ron would receive the same share in the inheritance as Bill or any of our other brothers," Harriet declared staunchly.

Bernard's lips tightened in displeasure with Harriet's counter arguments. "I am disappointed in you, Harriet. For someone who claims to be my daughter's best friend, I expected you to use your status in high-class society to find and pair Hermione with one of the amiable gentlemen of a prosperous family. It is now apparent that I was wrong. You are obviously afraid that Hermione might attain a better match than you did and you will no longer be considered the golden woman of the village of Biddestone!" he piqued acerbically.

Harriet gasped at his accusation and sat back in stunned disbelief whilst Ron subjected their host to a heated glare. "Stop saying such things about my sister!" he roared, finally leaping out of his seat.

"Stop it, father, please stop this," Hermione screeched tearfully from her position. Before Ron could say or do anything foolish, she rushed forward and then casting an apologetic and shame-filled glance at her best friend and her beloved, she turned her beseeching eyes on her father.

"I love Ronald just as much, father. I want to marry him just as much," Hermione confessed between gasping sobs. Greatly concerned, Emma rose and moved to gather her weeping daughter in her arms at once.

"Be quiet, Hermione," Bernard hissed sharply, turning his fuming gaze to his daughter and continuing cynically, "Clearly, your infatuation has blinded you to the inadequacies and difficulties you would inexorably face if you were to marry this bourgeois man who has no coherent plans for the future of his wife and children. You have become disillusioned by the cunning designs of your friend thrusting you into the hovel they call the Burrow for the rest of your life!"

"Mr. Granger!" Harriet bellowed, springing to her feet. "How dare you insult my home? Just because we chose to maintain civility with our host, doesn't mean we would take your accusations and slights in silence!"

Bernard recoiled at unadulterated fury in Harriet's scorching eyes the while other occupants of the room were left thoroughly startled.

Striding towards the mother and daughter, Harriet gently broke Hermione out of the embrace and brought her forward to Bernard with her arm protectively draped over her friend's shaking shoulders. "Mr. Granger, my brother showed gentlemanly comportment by coming here today to request of you Hermione's hand in marriage, just like Hermione respected you enough to give you the right to interrogate her future intended. But do not forget, sir, that Hermione is of age and as such, has the right to marry whomever she wishes, irrespective of her parents' consent. If the issue were to progress to that end, know that you will have to face the might of the Weasleys in number as well as the Malfoys in power before you could cause any harm to them," Harriet hissed in a warning with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Staring into the blazing emeralds of Harriet's eyes and her tenacious stance irrespective of her diminutive structure, Bernard thought he caught a glimpse of Lady Alexandra Malfoy in her. He suspected that was what Alexandra would look like in the moment of absolute rage and realized that he might have crossed the line with his insults, especially by targeting Harriet Malfoy, Mistress of the wealthiest and powerful family in the entirety of Wiltshire County and thereafter, her family. Bernard also realised why the Malfoys chose Harriet to be their next Lady.

Directing a pitying gaze at the abashed man, Harriet stated quietly, "Hermione is not the one who is blind sighted here, Mr. Granger. Wealth does not always guarantee felicity. If there were discontent in heart, no plush cushions with velvety covers under your seat could give you comfort. If I had believed that Hermione would have been happy in a marriage with a man just for his substantial wealth, then I would have never interfered in your plans for her."

"She could come to love her husband eventually," Bernard made another attempt to solidify his argument.

"Sir, you and I both know that Hermione is one unequivocal woman who is utterly devoted to her beliefs and feelings. We never knew her to be fickle," Harriet pointed out seriously oblivious to the said woman's astounded gaze upon her.

Bernard had a feeling that he should start accepting the fact that his beloved daughter would never become Mistress to a huge estate.

Emma, who had been silently watching her husband in askance the entire time, stepped forward to speak at last. "Harriet, Ronald, I apologise for my husband's behaviour. His desire to protect and provide the best for our daughter does not justify his harsh demeanour towards either you or your family. For that, I am deeply sorry," she said with a sigh of regret.

And then looking steadily at Harriet, she added, "But you must concede to the fact that my husband has the right to question any gentleman who comes asking for Hermione's hand. And in your brother's case, you cannot refute that, were they to live in a separate house after marriage, his current income would not be sufficient to run a household."

Upon seeing the genuine concern on the woman's face rather than condescension that her husband held previously, Harriet nodded in acquiescence after a long pause.

Still not relenting her firm hold around Hermione's upper arms, Harriet grasped Ron's stiff wrist with her free hand. Pulling the two of them on to the sofa, Harriet occupied the seat between them. There was a silence as Harriet thought of a possible solution. After a while, Harriet's expression acquired a determined look and then glancing at Emma, she said, "I will use my connections to have Ron placed in a position that will pay more than what he currently earns. But you must also understand that he is quite young and as such, is inexperienced. Any employer of his would use this lack to not pay the same remuneration as that of his other experienced employees." Here Harriet glanced at still fuming brother and silently prompted him to make his second request.

"Yes well, I myself am in no hurry to start a marital life. I want to attain some financial stability before I take Miss Granger to the Church," Ron admitted tightly. "In addition to her hand, I also wanted to request for a long engagement."

"Oh," Emma whispered and then nodding in agreement with his first statement, she asked, "How long are you expecting?"

"Two years at the minimum," Ron answered tersely after making some mental calculations.

"Two years?" Emma repeated incredulously whilst Bernard shook his head in remonstration.

At a single, sharp glance from Harriet, Bernard bit back whatever his protests. "We could always arrange a party and have their engagement well publicized," Harriet suggested agog, returning her gaze to Emma. Seeing the unconvinced looks on the older couple's faces, she said, "Mr and Mrs. Granger, our family's financial position has improved noticeably in the past year and the change will continue to prevail considering that each of my brothers is earning a living. But I must say, in this hour-long conference, your questions have single-mindedly focussed on monetary issues but not on other important and noteworthy matters. For instance, our mother is the most warm and affectionate person I have ever known. She already adores Hermione and will love her like her own daughter when Hermione steps into our house as my brother's bride. Not many women in this world could make such a claim. Our father will bestow her with freedom of speech as well as encouragement if Hermione wishes to assume a profession—"

Here Harriet paused upon seeing Bernard open his mouth but she quickly overrode his remark, saying, "Our father is an honourable man, and neither he nor anyone else in my family would ever make Hermione work so she could bring in some income. I meant that Hermione is an exceptionally intelligent woman and that her talents would not be repressed if she desired to use them."

"Our parents have instilled a sense of protection toward one another in us children. If any trouble, small or otherwise were to befall them, God forbid, then we would not hesitate to assemble together to help them out of it. Being our neighbours for a long time, you must know all this, but I still thought I should stress that Hermione could never find a more loving and compassionate family for in-laws. Furthermore, if they do not have to move because of Ron's work, Hermione will be living in the neighbourhood and you could always see her," Harriet concluded, her passionate and earnest tone dying down.

After few moments of silent deliberation and Hermione's pleading looks, Mr and Mrs. Granger reluctantly nodded, nonverbally granting Ronald permission to marry their daughter. Hermione's tear smudged face alighted like the sun whilst Ron visibly relaxed as the pressure was finally released.

With a lighter heart, Harriet rose to her feet again and so did Ron. After embracing Hermione warmly with facilitations, she turned her attention to the Granger couple. "Ron will apprise my parents of this glorious news. At which point, they would want to speak with you personally regarding this marriage. While Ronald and I took your insults in silence, Mr. Granger, please bear in mind that neither my brothers nor I would tolerate any kind of slurs or incivility directed towards our parents," Harriet promised fiercely. "Same goes for my soon-to-be sister-in-law."

Bernard was disgusted at himself for gulping in fear upon sensing the threat in his daughter's tenacious friend's voice. Even Emma was displeased at Harriet's insinuation that they would purposefully torment their daughter. On further introspection, Emma conceded it held some credit. As Hermione's mother, she had failed to see the deeper feelings of her own daughter, and even when it was bared in front of her, she tried to fight against her wishes, just because they did not suit their plans for Hermione.

"I think we should take our leave now," Harriet said quietly causing relief to Ron. Accepting awkward farewells from the Granger couple, Harriet moved towards the door with her brother in the lead and then, glancing back at Hermione who was staring after them longingly, she added cheekily with a wink, "I expect to see you in much better appearance when next we meet, Sister."

Hermione huffed in indignation before finally breaking into joyful giggles, not minding the tears trekking down her cheeks.

In silence, Harriet and Ronald flitted out of the Granger residence and trod down the cold street.

---

"Ron, why don't you seem very happy?" Harriet enquired, looking sideways at her serious-faced brother with a frown.

"It's just my… ire at Hermione's parents has overshadowed my elation, Harry," Ron shrugged his shoulder.

"Ron, you should understand that they were just being protective of her," Harriet said in a feeble attempt to console him.

"Yes, Harry, I do understand," Ron admitted with a slow nod. "But if this meeting had happened a year and a half ago, I would have most probably stormed out of their house before Mr. Granger could finish his first insult, and never looked back."

"I do not believe you would have given Hermione up so easily, Ron, but what do you mean?" Harriet asked, casting a puzzled look at him.

Ruefully smiling at her genuine surprise, Ron affectionately captured her gloved hand in his own as they walked. "I mean that your marriage to Mr. Malfoy has changed us all, Harry. When Mr. Malfoy proposed, I saw father grasping at the edges for excuses to refuse him. Mr. Malfoy was considered the most eligible bachelor in Wiltshire and any daughter's father would have been falling over their knees to accept such an opportunity. Yet, father was looking for excuses. I believe he would have behaved similarly if it were any other gentleman asking for his daughter's hand. And he wasn't the only person; every one of us except mother wondered whether you would be perfectly happy with that man. And I realised that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were acting in the similar fashion," Ron explained softly. Here he paused for a minute. "But if father had been able to find a reason to reject Mr. Malfoy's proposal, he would have been kinder in the process. I could never believe father would have behaved this callously towards your or even Ginny's suitors," Ron added with a furious scowl.

"Yes, Ron," Harriet agreed plaintively. "But Bernard Granger is no Arthur Weasley."

"Still, I cannot forgive that man for so blithely hurling insults at my family," Ron confessed bitterly, tightening his grasp on her hand. "The sting of his barbs is too deep."

Ron heard Harriet release a loud sigh of resignation beside him. "How could you overlook his cutting remarks about you? Aren't you the least bit angry?" Ron queried, half-agitated on her behalf, half-exasperated at her nonchalance.

"I was, Ron," Harriet admitted truthfully. "But I let go after seeing the look of absolute exultation on Hermione's agonised face."

"Oh," Ron whispered lowly and, then shrugged casually, "I reckon I am not as forgiving as you are."

Harriet shook her head in negation before saying, "I won't ask you to forgive Mr. Granger for his degrading remarks but I urge you not to lose your temper with him, for the sake of Hermione. She does not need to deal with anymore stress or heartache than she already has."

Ron stayed silent for a long moment. "I will try, Harry," he promised with a sigh seeing the hopeful look Harriet was giving him.

Smiling proudly at him, Harriet nodded in satisfaction.

"Harry, how come you did not approach father about this issue?" Ron questioned as they moved onwards.

"I did not think this matter through thoroughly, Ron. I afraid…… I succumbed to my infamous recklessness once again," Harriet said bashfully, biting her lips. "But I am glad that we did not involve our parents in the discussion."

"You are right. I could not have forgiven myself or the Grangers, if father and mother had been subjected to …." Ron broke off with a dark look.

Harriet sighed, empathizing with his sentiment.

"So, the villagers are calling me the golden woman, now are they?" she drawled mock-haughtily in an attempt to bring him out of the sullen mood.

Bemused, Ron turned to face her. They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into pearls of laughter.

Recollecting himself, Ron brushed the tears of mirth from the corner of his eyes and said, "Seriously Harry, the way you handled Mr. Holland and then Mr. Granger, I am starting to wonder whether they should change your title to the golden lioness."

"Shut up!" Harriet retorted, playfully cuffing him on the upper arm.

Red haired brother and black haired sister continued to push and tug each other until they reached their crooked yet beloved home.

Espying the wagon in the front yard, Ron's eyes widened in disbelief. "Harry, you came in that!" he exclaimed, staring at his sister.

"You realised that now?" Harriet asked dryly, causing Ron to flush a little in embarrassment.

"I was kind of preoccupied!" Ron defended himself when Harriet tittered at his reaction.

"I noticed. Both of our carriages were engaged elsewhere and I could not wait until tomorrow to visit Biddestone," Harriet admitted sheepishly. "Oh yes, I completely forgot." Saying this, she opened her purse and then, pulling out some notes, extended them toward Ron.

"Why are you giving me money?" Ron asked, perplexed.

"Payment to Mr. Holland," Harriet answered simply.

"Harry, I can afford to pay with my own," Ron protested, releasing her hand and backing away from her.

"I know you could, Ron but I made the promise to the man to pay the amount," Harriet argued insistently.

"Yes, but it was I who took leave and for a matter that solely concerns me," Ron expostulated, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "Besides, I have no expenses other than daily travel charges to and from Swindon and buying some formal clothes."

"Ron," Harriet said softly. "I am not trying to offend you or anything by giving the payment. It's just that…now that you are engaged, unofficially at least, you need to save every penny you can afford, so you can marry Hermione as soon as possible."

When her brother still seemed reluctant, Harriet explained patiently, "Ron, though you received the permission to have a long engagement, it won't be in the best interests of Hermione to be made to wait too long for marriage. People will start questioning the sincerity in your intentions. I don't think you would want to subject her or yourself to that kind of ill-speculation, do you?" and then grabbing his wrist and pulling it upfront, she placed the money in his palm.

"Harry, Mr. Granger would have never accepted my proposal if not for you." Ron stated solemnly, closing his long fingers around the currency.

"Don't be silly, Ron!" Harriet exclaimed in objection. "You two love each other. It was inevitable that you would marry, with or without anyone's help."

"But you went out of your way to help us!" Ron contended forcefully. "Hermione and I owe a great de-- " Harriet cut him off by placing a finger firmly across his lips.

"You are my brother and Hermione is my best friend. There is no room for words like debts between us!" Harriet averred, directing a stern gaze at him. "Besides, I promised Hermione that I would help in any way I could if this situation were to arise. I had to keep my word, didn't I?"

Ron gave a silent nod in understanding.

"Well enough of this gratitude nonsense! Let's go inside, Ron. It's cold out here and I am mighty hungry for mother's food," Harriet whinged, dragging him to the front door.

As soon as Harriet entered the living room, Molly hurried towards her, wearing a wide smile in welcome.

"Hello, mother," Harriet greeted with an affectionate smile.

"Darling, it is such a pleasant surprise!" Molly exclaimed, pulling Harriet into a bone-crashing embrace. Harriet returned it warmly, seeking comfort in her mother's arms after the strenuous day she had had.

"Oh dear, you are freezing. Come, sit by the fire," Molly tut-ed, pulling her to the chairs by the fireplace.

The moment they took seats, Ron strolled into the room, having stopped outside the door to remove his muddy boots.

"Ron, why are you home at this hour?" Molly inquired of him, startled at his appearance.

At Harriet's enthusiastic nod, Ron declared, "Mr. Granger accepted my marriage proposal to Hermione."

Molly's eyes widened considerably as she stared at Ron in shock and disbelief.

"It's true, mother. We are just coming from their house," Harriet confirmed merrily, causing Molly to snap her gaze to her daughter.

"What happened?" Molly whispered after a quiet, long pause as she glanced between her children in amazement, suspecting that there was more to the story of Ron's unanticipated announcement.

"I am going to change my clothes," Ron muttered without answering her question and ascending the uneven, winding staircase without waiting for their acquiescence.

Molly immediately turned her attention to Harriet with a befuddled look.

Shaking her head in exasperation at him, Harriet sighed. "Mother, I will tell everything once you arrange some food for me. I missed my lunch and could really do with your food," she told her frankly

Momentarily distracted at learning of her daughter's starving state, Molly remarked, "Oh you poor thing, let's go to the dining room. I'll get you some food."

Harriet tiredly yet happily followed her mother.

Leaving out belittling the words of Bernard, Harriet briefly recounted the meeting that transpired at the Grangers' to Molly between bites of the hearty meal that her mother had prepared for her.

"Well if everything has settled favourably, why does Ron seem so glum?" Molly questioned, her expression flabbergasted.

Harriet hesitated, unwilling to tell the truth to her mother. "Mr. Granger," she replied laconically at last with a grimace, knowing that Molly would persist on getting to the bottom of the issues that disturbed her children.

"Hmph, Bernard Granger has gotten insufferable over the past few months with his frivolous dreams with regard to his daughter," Molly commented with a disapprobatory huff.

"Well, Mr. Granger made some nasty comments that wounded Ron's pride," Harriet admitted grimly and then added with a helpless sigh, "I don't know what I could say to make Ron feel better but mother, would you talk to him?"

Molly nodded in agreement, looking thoroughly concerned for her youngest son.

A few moments passed with no exchange of words as Harriet finished her meal while Molly was engrossed in grave contemplations.

"Mother, were you alone before we came?" Harriet enquired, finally noticing the utter silence of the house.

Molly simply gave a nod again in response.

"Erm…where is Ginny?" Harriet asked, albeit tentatively.

"Martha visited us a couple of days ago and she took Ginny with her. Ginny will probably stay in Chippanhem until Christmas," Molly answered in a deliberately off-handed tone.

"Oh," Harriet did not know what more to say and then catching sight of the greying atmosphere outside through the glass window. "I should leave as well, mother. I told them that I would return to the Manor before nightfall."

"But don't you want to meet your father and the twins?" Molly enquired, frowning in disappointment as Harriet rose from her chair.

"I will visit again, mother," Harriet promised with a gentle smile in an attempt to assuage her displeased mother as she draped the cloak she had discarded upon arrival over her shoulders. "Give my regards to them. Pass my congratulations and farewell to Ron as well."

Molly sighed in resignation, recognizing the prudence in Harriet journeying to the Manor when there was still daylight.

"You should do so yourself," Molly said firmly and then glancing up at the stairs, she shouted, "RON! HARRY IS LEAVING."

Harriet rolled her eyes at her mother's antics.

A couple of minutes later, Ron hurried into the living room where Molly and Harriet were waiting for him. "You are leaving?" he asked, staring at her.

"Yes, Ron. I will come and see you again soon. Hopefully, your mood would have improved by then," Harriet remarked ruefully.

Ron averted his eyes, chagrined for ruining the celebratory occasion because of his vexation towards the Grangers.

"Mother, remain inside. It's too cold. I will see myself out," Harriet insisted, halting Molly's tracks as she made to follow her out of the doorway.

When Molly opened her mouth to protest, Ron interrupted her. "I will escort Harry to her transport," Ron offered quietly.

"Farewell, mother," Harriet bided with a hearty embrace.

"Travel safe, sweetheart. Also, give our regards to Lady Malfoy and your husband," Molly said, affectionately kissing her on her cheeks.

"I will."

Settled on his perch of the wagon, Dean was awaiting her as Harriet and Ron emerged from the house.

"Good bye, Ron," Harriet bid with an encouraging smile at him.

Managing a small smile in return, Ron said, "Visit us soon, Harry."

Harriet nodded in acceptance.

"Harry, er…about the promise you made to the Grangers regarding my job…" Ron broke off, looking extremely uncomfortable as he helped Harriet into the wagon.

"What about it?" Harriet's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she eyed her brother.

"Uhhh….I don't want to work under Mr. Malfoy's administration," Ron mumbled, his gaze lowered and thus, not meeting her own.

Harriet's frowned deepened upon sensing the resolve that belied his voice. "Why?"

"I just don't want to, Harry," Ron asserted flatly and closed the door and motioned Dean to move.

Perplexed, Harriet watched the visual of her lanky brother fade as the wagon pulled away from the Burrow.

---

After the eventful day she had had, Harriet started to experience sharp spikes of pain in her head, a consequence of spending the most of the day in cold, she reckoned traipsing to the foyer of the Manor. Having learnt from Landen of Alexandra's presence in the parlour, Harriet walked in to announce her return to the older woman.

"Grandma," Harriet called to a reading Alexandra ensconced in a high backed chair.

"Harriet, I am glad you came home safe!" Alexandra remarked upon seeing an exhausted-looking granddaughter-in-law standing in front of her.

"I am all right, Grandma," Harriet assured her with a haggard smile as Alexandra stood and gently grasped her hand in her own.

"Uh oh, a little too flushed and freezing for my tastes," Alexandra tsk-ed with a disapproving frown after taking a keen appraisal of her face.

"And dirty as well," Harriet quipped, pointing to the muddy hem of her dress. "I would very much like to get out of these soiled clothes."

"Go on, then, we can talk later," Alexandra said, shooing her away.

Harriet nodded and made her way back to the foyer. "Harriet," Alexandra called before she could disappear. When Harriet glanced over her shoulder, she said fervidly, "That was quite considerate of you to send me the message, darling."

Harriet smiled knowingly at her. "I presumed that you would be worried about Mr. Malfoy. Oh, by the way, did he return from the factory?"

"Not yet," Alexandra replied, shaking her head.

Harriet nodded again and turned to resume her journey to the master suite.

---

Three quarters of an hour later, descending the grand stairs to the foyer, "Grandma?" Harriet called seeing Alexandra standing in the sitting area and frowning in thought.

Blinking out of pensiveness, "Draco just returned from the factory," Alexandra answered to a curious-looking Harriet.

"Did he?" Harriet said, immediately glancing around the foyer to locate her husband.

"Yes, with Vincent and in his carriage," Alexandra affirmed softly.

"Oh, did Mr. Malfoy tell you what happened with his carriage this afternoon?" Harriet enquired interestedly.

"No, but Draco seemed to be in a terrible mood. He walked away to his study after greeting me, with Vincent in tow," Alexandra informed her.

"Oh," Harriet could not discern the reason behind Draco's demeanour. "But I must go and inform him about my trip," Harriet muttered, nonetheless.

"Do be careful, darling. Draco has inherited the nasty temperament of the Malfoys along with their handsome features," Alexandra cautioned her, understanding the reasonability of Harriet apprising Draco of her trip.

'Oh, I am quite aware of it, Grandma,' Harriet thought ruefully but nodded at Alexandra and sauntered in the direction of her husband's study.

---

Strolling through the corridor that led to Draco's study, Harriet saw Vincent Crabbe emerging from it. Upon nearing him, Harriet noticed that his flabby, thickly moustached face was sporting a deep red flush as well as the tremors that were wreaking his burly frame. Harriet opened her mouth to inquire but paused upon seeing heavy accusation in his small, light blue eyes as they glanced at her. Disquieted, Harriet watched as Vincent scurried away from her without uttering a single word. With her forehead furrowed in befuddlement, Harriet approached the study door and knocked twice. She had to wait more than five minutes before she received permission to enter.

Entering the room and closing the door behind her, Harriet found her husband writing, seated behind his desk with his head bowed. For a moment, Harriet studied his ossified posture and tight face in silence whilst Draco did not pause in his task at the instance of her presence.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harriet addressed tentatively.

"Grandmother informed me that you went to Biddestone in the delivery wagon," Draco drawled finally looking up at her.

"Erm..yes, I couldn't wait to reach my friend," Harriet replied apprehensively, sensing an underlying anger in his voice. "But I made sure to remain discreet during my journey," she added quickly.

Draco remained quiet as he stared at her.

"I suppose the carriage was repaired by the time you had to leave the factory," Harriet murmured, repressing an urge to twitch under his intense gaze.

"What?" Draco asked, confused.

"Your carriage, wasn't it broken?" Harriet queried with a frown.

"No, it wasn't broken. In fact, Crabbe blithely ignored my order to escort you to Biddestone," Draco answered through clenched teeth.

Finally, Harriet understood the reason behind Vincent's strange behaviour and her husband's current ire. "Please leave it be, Mr. Malfoy. This is his first mistake, and I returned to the Manor safely. No harm was done," Harriet appealed to him.

"The situation is lot more complicated than that!" Draco sneered bitterly.

"What do you mean?" Harriet enquired, stepping closer to him. "Please, tell me what has happened, Mr. Malfoy."

Thinning his lips at Harriet's imploring gaze, "Bulstrode caught him fooling around with his daughter this afternoon," Draco admitted, his face twisted in disgust at the mere thought.

Harriet bit her lip to stifle a loud groan of dismay but a small sound did manage to escape her mouth. That wasn't the way Draco expected her to react. "Is there a reason why you don't seem surprised?" Draco voiced his doubts, his steely eyes narrowing in slits.

Hastily composing herself, "Of course not. I barely know Vincent. Why would I be surprised about a matter that concerns his private life?" Harriet asked, feigning nonchalance.

"You were concerned enough to plead forgiveness for him," Draco pointed out, his tone deadly calm.

"Because he was throwing accusing looks in my direction on his way out!" Harriet snapped, getting annoyed with Draco's for turning a conversation into an interrogation.

"Why would he do that?" Draco questioned, tilting his blond head with mock-innocence.

"Maybe because he failed to follow your orders to drive me to Biddestone today?" Harriet shrugged stiffly, avoiding the penetrating molten silver of his eyes.

"I think you are lying!" Draco observed with a dangerous hiss.

"Mr. Malfoy I …." Harriet tried to deny but Draco cut her off.

"Tell me the truth!" Draco growled, loudly slapping his palm against the desktop in extreme frustration.

Harriet flinched at his aggravation but confessed, nonetheless, knowing that it was time for revelation, "I knew about their relationship."

"What?" Draco breathed, taken aback.

Harriet slumped in dejection on the chair across the desk and then, planting her elbows upright on the surface, she rested her forehead on the heels of her open palms, feeling extremely haggard. "About three weeks ago, I found them on my walk around the estate," Harriet murmured from between her arms.

Momentarily distracted from the reeling yet maddening thought that his wife had been keeping secrets of his staff from him, Draco repeated, appalled, "Found them?"

Her face immediately heated in embarrassment as she remembered the scene she had walked in on.

Seeing the profuse shade of red tinting her face, Draco's eyes widened in alarm. "What state of undress were they in?" Draco demanded urgently.

"What?" The flush across Harriet's face deepened if that could be possible.

"Answer the question!" Draco snarled wrathfully. Even the idea of his wife being exposed to the coitus actions of their coachman and his paramour left Draco feeling mountainously disturbed.

"They were just kissing!" Harriet answered quickly, directing an earnest look at him, willing him to believe her. Harriet knew that if she had found Vincent and Millicent a few minutes later, they would have been in a state of indecency. In fact, she had purposefully put an end to their actions on that day before they could take it too far.

"Just," Draco repeated with a derisive snort before he asked with a menacing sneer, "Might I inquire as to why you haven't bothered to inform me about them?"

Harriet winced under his smouldering glare as she gingerly removed her hands to her lap. "I wanted to give Vincent a chance to tell you himself. I told him so. I said you would be displeased if you found out from some other source," she explained anxiously.

"Displeased?" Draco let out a humourless laugh and then subjecting Harriet to a piercing gaze, he spat, "No, Mrs. Malfoy, I am bloody furious. You know why? Because today Bulstrode, a lowly clerk of mine, dared to raise his voice in my presence and questioned the freedom I am giving the people that are working under me. Because of you two today, he accused me of encouraging unseemly behaviour in my servants!"

Harriet closed her eyes with a pained look. "I am extremely sorry, Mr. Malfoy," she apologised dolefully after wearily fluttering her eyes up to him a minute later.

Deliberately ignoring her response, Draco returned to his previous task, his face set in a hardened expression.

"What are you going to do now?" Harriet asked quietly, biting her lip in worry as she eyed him furiously scribbling on a piece of paper.

"I will let Crabbe tell you himself," Draco responded scathingly, pausing and glancing up to throw a glare at her.

Harriet winced again. "Please Mr. Malfoy," she requested softly, nonetheless.

For a long, anticipated moment Draco stayed quiescent, deigning to regard her hopeful face instead of resuming the task of writing. Finally, Draco grudgingly drew her viridian gaze towards the correspondence he had been writing.

Understanding his implication, Harriet suspiciously yet eagerly leaned across the desk and read his words. It was letter meant for Peter and, it clearly spelled the punishment for Crabbe's transgressions.

"You are sending Vincent away to Aunt Victoria's until Miss Bulstrode is married?" Harriet stated, snapping her gaze up at him in horror.

Draco simply pursed his lips and returned to finishing the letter.

"But you can't!" Harriet cried in desperation.

"Yes, I can and I will!" Draco hissed venomously.

Harriet sprang out of the chair and, leaning across the desk and placing a restraining hand on his left hand, she halted his progress on the letter. Draco looked up and glared daggers at her audacity.

"Please listen to me, Mr. Malfoy. This separation will hurt them more than any physical pain you might inflict upon them," Harriet implored him.

Draco's slate eyes blazed fiercely at her insinuation that his behaviour towards his employees was not better than the brutal one of his father.

"Oh no, I did not mean it like that," Harriet cried hysterically, biting his lips strongly enough to draw blood in frustration when she immediately apprehended how her husband had taken her words. "Please Mr. Malfoy, Vincent will only come to resent you if you do this to them. He served you faithfully all these years. You can't punish him this harshly for one mistake."

"Mrs. Malfoy, you are crossing a line. You are forgetting your place," Draco ground out severely, viciously jerking off her hold on his wrist.

Harriet stilled, a feeling of hurt bleeding through her emerald eyes for a moment before her face assumed a steadfast look. "No, Mr. Malfoy, this matter neither concerns your family nor your business," Harriet stated tersely, cradling her discarded hand against her chest with the other. "Marry them. If anyone could pursue Mr. Bulstrode to their union, it is you, Mr. Malfoy," she solicited with a great urge.

"You are insane!" Draco guffawed loudly. "Miss Bulstrode would never associate with Crabbe when she discovers his status under the Malfoy administration."

Nodding at him, "Millicent didn't know Vincent's status until the day I found them," Harriet admitted quietly. "That day I explained to her in the simplest of terms that Vincent Crabbe is not just your carriage driver but also your vassal. I also expounded on what being a vassal entails. In spite of his societal status, if Millicent continues to remain with him, then I don't believe anyone should interfere in their relationship."

A snort of disgust emitted from Draco. "I have met Miss. Bulstrode on a couple of occasions and I daresay she is as shrewd as Crabbe himself," he mocked disparagingly.

"Clearly, those two have been too monopolized by their carnal desires to comprehend the realities of life."

"Mr. Malfoy, it is not very gentlemanly of you to speak ill of a young woman!" Harriet admonished, directing a reproachful look at him.

"What I speak of are no false allegations, Mrs. Malfoy. Miss Bulstrode has ruined her family's reputation with her coquettish ways," Draco shot back scornfully.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Harriet rebuffed, her eyes flushing in incense. "Just because Millicent loves someone of lower rank, does not make her a fool or a w….erm...you know. You cannot help who you fall in love with."

Draco's brow arched incredulously at her last statement.

"Er.. that's …what I… have heard pe…people say," Harriet stammered out, having felt the strong, inexplicable need to clarify herself whilst a pink blush crept back on her cheeks when his gaze abruptly, sharply altered to a calculating one. "Besides, what is so wrong about people from different classes, marrying? After all, we did," Harriet persisted on her case.

Draco threw a disbelieving and offended glare at her. Harriet was comparing him to Vincent Crabbe, what an outrage! "Our marriage is a temporary arrangement--"

"A fact that no one but us knows," Harriet refuted before he could delve into that inexplicably painful subject again.

"Also in our case, I am providing you with the luxuries of the world. Can you say the same for Crabbe? Do you really believe that Miss Bulstrode would be happy to leave her moderately comfortable middle class lifestyle to come and live in a stable? Crabbe's wage is hardly sufficient for him. How do you think he will provide for his wife and the children that would soon follow considering their uncontrollable, licentious behaviours as of late? He is a coachman, there will be no promotions in his position within the servant hierarchy nor will there be in his income. He doesn't even have the independence to leave our employment if he has objections to our orders!" Draco contested with a hard sneer.

Harriet pursed her lips, considering his argument for a moment and then spoke in a reasonable tone as she held his fuming gaze with a calm one, "Well then, as his Master, evince your vassal with the opportunities to improve his financial status. Make him work hard as a punishment for his folly. Vincent is your ward; rise up to the position of his father figure and put him in the right passage to the life of a proper family man."

Rage momentarily faltered at her words, Draco stared at her in astonishment.

"But please do not separate them. Do not ruin them for the rest of their lives. I beg of you," Harriet beseeched him while her glittering eyes staring fervidly at him.

Disgruntled at being effected by his wife's incessant advocating of this ludicrous idea, Draco shot out of his chair and moved past her vision.

"Please Mr. Malfoy," were last words Draco heard as he stormed out of his study in the next instant.

---

Needless to say, the palpable tension between the young couple prevailed throughout the evening. Draco's taciturn disposition forced Harriet and Alexandra to keep their silence in his presence so as not to aggravate him further. Alexandra was, of course, curious to learn the cause but did not press for details, apprehending her grandson's none too accommodating demeanour and Harriet's uncommon reticence. She decided that whatever the reason, she would wait until one of them came to her with the explanation.

The prickly silence retained even as Harriet and Draco prepared to retire for that night.

---

Next morning, Harriet furtively eyed her husband during breakfast and but did not try to speak with him, fathoming his ill desire to entertain any kind of discussions if his unapproachable countenance were to be taken into consideration. Besides, Harriet had said everything she could think of last evening; and now she had no idea of what else she could say to make him consider her request in Crabbe's personal matter.

Harriet watched wearily as Draco left the Manor for the day, a lot earlier than usual. She then felt guilty for driving him away from his house with her relentless, pleading looks every time his smoky eyes caught her jade ones.

---

In an attempt to spare further strain on her nerves, Harriet threw herself in the task of preparing Christmas presents for her family. This method did not work as successfully as Harriet had hoped because of the foreboding thoughts about the future of Crabbe and his sweetheart that kept creeping back into her mind. By the time the afternoon hours had passed, too slow for her tastes, Harriet was in jitters to know her husband's verdict with regard to their coachman. When the clock stuck the hour of four, Harriet paced about in the parlour, having already instructed Landen to inform her directly upon Draco's arrival.

Before Landen could come and convey to her about Draco's return, Harriet espied her husband striding towards the stairs from within the parlour. Unable to muster the courage to step up to him and inquire about the matter, Harriet waited until Draco disappeared up the stairs before flitting out of the stone house towards the stables.

---

Almost half an hour later, Harriet found herself outside of Draco's dressing room, waiting for him to come out while controlling the urge to jump on the balls of her feet with excitement.

The instant Draco emerged from his private room, Harriet flung her arms around his neck, grinning in extreme delight. "Thank you, thank you very much, Mr. Malfoy," Harriet muttered, placing fervent kisses on his cheek whilst squeezing him tightly against her body. "You are too kind, Sir. Vincent told me what you did and he is ecstatic. I am sure Millicent must be crying in elation as well," she expressed while laughing exultantly as joyful tears prickled in her sparkling eyes.

"Mrs. Malfoy, do you always show your gratitude to the people who comply with your desires and whims with physical intimacy?" Draco sneered acerbically against her ear.

Harriet's eyes grew impossibly wide and she backed away from him with the same celerity with which she had launched at him. In the process, she noted his unresponsiveness to her embrace, the frigidness of his torso and his arms, which firmly stayed by his sides.

"What?" Harriet whispered, looking up at him in shock, hoping against hope that she had heard him wrong. Despite her question, the utter disgust on his aristocratic face was enough for her to comprehend what exactly he was implying; and she inhaled sharply.

Rigidly standing in his place, Draco saw as the bright glow in Harriet's eyes dimmed considerably and her face paled with a deep sense of hurt and humiliation. With a strangled sob of pain, Harriet flew out of the room within the next instant.

---

Draco did not encounter his wife for the rest of the afternoon. As he walked towards the family dining room for the evening meal, Draco was miffed at himself for feeling slightly uneasy at the prospect of facing her again but to his internal surprise, he did not spotted her there.

"Where is Harriet?" Alexandra inquired of him after five minutes had passed since Draco and she settled at the table and there was no sign of her.

Before Draco could respond that he didn't know, Harriet's personal maid, Nola entered the room and silently handed over an off-white note to Alexandra. Curious, she opened the note that read,

Dear Grandma,

I am afraid I can't join you for the evening meal, as I am feeling rather unwell because of my period womanly course. I promise I will instruct Nola to bring me some food in my quarters a while later. I apologize for my absence at the dinner table, Grandma. I will see you tomorrow morning.

Have a pleasant rest in the night.

Harriet

Alexandra simply gave a nod of acknowledgement to Nola who thereupon curtsied and left the room. Alexandra then motioned to Francis to serve the dinner.

In spite of his aspersion towards Harriet that afternoon, Draco furtively studied Alexandra's face trying to gleam the excuse that she has made for her absence since his grandmother did not seem inclined to divulge it to him. Draco was somewhat relieved to find that Alexandra's amiable demeanour towards him had not altered after reading that note, which he surmised, did not contain his wife's grousing of him like he had suspected.

As the hours passed with no sight of Harriet, Draco fought against fidgeting in his chair in the drawing room where Alexandra and he were ensconced after dinner. Draco inwardly sighed in relief when Alexandra finally announced that they should retire for the night. Firmly keeping his mind blank so as not to allow any kind of diffidence or guilt, Draco ascended the stairs and then meandered through the corridors with a slightly accelerated gait as he made his way to the master suite. As soon as he entered their private quarters, Draco sought Harriet, only to find the sitting room, the bedroom and the bathroom empty but his anxious scanning of their quarters ended when he saw the closed door of Harriet's dressing room.

Perceiving that his wife must be changing for the night, Draco took the opportunity to do the same. When he returned to their bedchamber in his nightclothes almost fifteen minutes later, Draco noticed the door to her room was still closed and Harriet nowhere to be seen.

Settling on a comfortable chair in the bedroom, Draco waited for her to emerge. Lost in the thoughts of what he was going to say when they faced each other, Draco did not notice her continued absence until more than an hour had passed. Frowning in worry, Draco approached the door to the dressing room and raised his fist to knock but the door slid open at the force of his hand. Feeling apprehensive about the state he might find her in, Draco cautiously pushed the oak door further open, to find the room devoid of human presence.

Cursing his wife for causing unnecessary stress on his mind, Draco grumpily stomped towards bed and nosily dropped his body on the sheets. The stubbornness of his character would not allow him to go searching for Harriet nor would it let him seek the servants to inquire after her. 'If she does not desire my presence, then I won't bother forcing myself in her vicinity,' Draco decided sourly.

Awaiting her return till late night, Draco did not realise when he drifted into a restless slumber.

---

Next morning, bright rays of the sun, though filtered to a soothing light by the glass windows, next by thick, velvety curtains and at last, by the bed draping, gently nudged Draco back to the land of conscious. Groggily opening his grey eyes, Draco blurrily looked at the drapes on the side where his wife slept. Suddenly something resting upon her white pillow caught Draco's eye; blinking the haze out of his rested eyes, Draco found it to be a note. With the next scouring glance, Draco found that the sheets and pillows on her side were completely undisturbed. Panic-stricken by the strong suspicion that Harriet never returned to their private chambers, Draco bolted into a sitting position and quickly snatched the note and flipped it open.

Mr. Malfoy,

Despite your ill opinions with regard to the chastity of my virtue, my disposition would not allow me to break a given word. I will return.

Harriet

Whatever sleep still fogged Draco's mind vanished when it comprehended the sentiment that belied Harriet's few but curt words. Struck speechless, Draco sat on the bed for a long time in absolute silence, the note limply held in his nimble fingers.

---

Author's note: Poor Harriet. Draco finally managed to push her to the limit!!!

Onto the explanations then,

Land steward is a highest-ranking male servant. They were well educated as well as experienced in the matters of running the properties. The steward was the manager of the estate who hired and fired workers, settled tenant complaints, saw to the harvesting of crops, managed the timber, collected the rents and kept all the financial records. Wealthy men who had several estates hired stewards to look after them in their absence.

Malfoys chose to have a woman run their business instead of hiring a steward because they weren't trusting lot, especially in someone that wasn't their blood or family.

Like I aforementioned, a woman had the right to reject her suitors but not chose one of her liking, especially the one that did not approach her with a proposal. If Hermione had gone to the London then she would have daunting task of rejecting her everyone of her suitors which might have caused bad blood between the gentleman and her family.

In the 19th century, there were no concrete roads for travel, so the probability of the carriages slipping and tripping over was quite notable.

In those days, family's landed property usually went to the eldest son whilst small property was willed to the remaining sons; and they were expected to acquire respectable jobs to make a living.

Bernard Granger's insinuated that Ron's aim was to snatch their property along with their daughter: Hermione was their only child; other than the dowry she would be given at her marriage, the Granger's wealth would automatically go to her and her husband after her parents' demise, irrespective of the fact they were middle class themselves.

Ron's current income was such that, were he and Hermione were to live away from his parents, then all his income would be spent just for paying the rent for their house.

Next chapter: Harriet, Draco, Alexandra and others will realize something or another.