Out of Hand by relativelypositive
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I make no money from the use of J.K. Rowling's characters.
Chapter 11: Frostbite
Hermione realized she had been staring too long when Narcissa Malfoy's cold voice stirred her into action.
"Is it proper to leave guests standing on the stoop in the Muggle world, or are you so uncouth as to ignore social customs?"
Hermione jumped backward and bumped into her mother, who had snuck up behind her.
"Hello, there! Why don't you come in? I can see you're a witch, and we wouldn't want our neighbors asking questions." Catherine tried to break through the awkwardness…awkwardly.
"Do you think I would enter the Muggle world, come to your doorstep, and not take precautions?"
Mrs. Malfoy's tone was so icy that Catherine momentarily froze. Hermione only knew because she was still pressed up to her, trying to eke out a little comfort.
Mrs. Malfoy gingerly stepped into the foyer, as though the floor wouldn't hold her slight weight. Her stiletto boots clicked oddly on the linoleum.
Catherine watched mutely as Mrs. Malfoy slowly stepped past her. Neither woman said a word.
Hermione silently followed Mrs. Malfoy as she perused the parlor with disdain. Hermione thought she was looking around with a bit of interest as well as a bit of disgust. Timothy and Catherine's style was modern, yet homey. There was a fair amount of clutter, but it was immaculately clean. Hermione imagined Malfoy Manor to be cold and formal, with lots of antiques and carpets you weren't supposed to walk on.
"I suppose I could wear my travelling cloak whilst inside, but it really isn't done."
"Oh, may I take your…cloak?" Catherine asked.
Mrs. Malfoy removed her black cloak to reveal an ice blue set of robes. They were exquisitely tailored. Hermione looked down at her sweat pants and t-shirt. Her mother was dressed nicely, but she wasn't dressed up by any means. Hermione wasn't ashamed. If Narcissa Malfoy wanted to drop in unannounced then she'd have to deal with whatever she found.
Timothy strolled in, texting all the while. He sat down as though no one else was in the room and continued.
"Am I to introduce myself to Muggles I don't know in their own home? Is that what's about to happen here?"
Hermione had about had enough of this passive aggressive crap. And it hadn't escaped her notice that every time Mrs. Malfoy said the word "Muggle" she put particular stress on it, as though she wanted to use another word, but was being careful not to.
"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione began, "These are my parents, Timothy and Catherine Granger." Timothy looked up and waved, then looked back down, while Catherine timidly stepped forward and extended her hand.
Mrs. Malfoy pretended she didn't see it.
"I suppose I could stand awkwardly in the middle of a room fairly filled with seats."
"Would you take a seat? I'll put on the kettle if you'd like tea," Catherine offered.
"Don't put yourself out," Mrs. Malfoy responded blandly. She settled daintily on an armchair. She turned to scrutinize Hermione. Hermione could tell she wasn't impressed, but didn't care. The day she tried to impress Narcissa Malfoy was the day she sided with Voldemort.
"Miss Granger, since you seem to be lacking any form of social grace, I shall take the bull by the horns, so to speak. What prompted this embarrassing public display?" Mrs. Malfoy conjured her copy of the Daily Prophet and opened it to the second page.
So it had been printed. Malfoy hadn't succeeded.
Hermione answered as honestly as she could.
"Inequality in our school system! Muggleborns are thrust into an unfamiliar world with new customs and traditions and are told nothing! I am now at an age where the things I do and say will affect my future relationships and career, and I do not have the knowledge I need to navigate successfully. Frankly, I want to be a productive member of society, and I need the knowledge and the tools to do so. They have not been provided for me, and I'd like to change that. It is truly disconcerting to find out too late that there are irrevocable acts, and I'd like to make sure nothing like this happens to the Muggleborns that enter the Wizarding world in the future."
Hermione hadn't noticed Mrs. Malfoy reddening in anger as she spoke, but when she stopped to catch her breath and really looked at her, she realized she had somehow made another mistake.
"Thank you for the diatribe," Mrs. Malfoy clipped sardonically. "That is not what I am referring to!" Mrs. Malfoy's voice was rising, her agitation breaking through her façade of disdain and indifference.
When Hermione didn't respond, Mrs. Malfoy continued.
"How dare you announce to the world that you do not want to marry my son!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Draco's father and a short wizard were having heated words as he and Snape approached.
"But I must see the family scroll! I must see how much damage has been done! Do you not understand the gravity of the situation? My son has been romantically linked to a Mudblood! I need to see how far it has progressed! I have every right."
"Indeed you do, Mr. Malfoy. However, you must petition the Unspeakables. If you'd like to step into my office we can get started on the paperwork. It should take four to six weeks to be processed. They will owl you the results, or you may come have a meeting with your case worker."
The little man's words were placating, but Lucius Malfoy did not want to be placated. He towered over the paper-pusher and tapped his cane menacingly on the marble tiles.
"The damage will be done by then. Do you know what will happen to you if there is an engagement pending and I do not find out about it immediately? I suggest you don't find out. Find me an unspeakable to speak to. Now. For your own safety."
Snape walked up to Draco's father and grabbed his shoulder. "Calm down, my friend. We are not without connections in the Department of Mysteries."
"Did you bring him?" Mr. Malfoy asked, effectively dispatching the Ministry employee to find him an Unspeakable.
"Yes, of course. Draco!" he summoned.
Draco approached apprehensively.
"Father."
"Son."
"Did you fuck her?"
Draco was shocked into speechlessness. All he could do was shake his head.
"Good. Do you want to fuck her?"
Draco shook his head again.
"Good. Then I don't have to castrate you."
Draco wished his father were kidding.
A/N:
After "father" and "son" I sorely wanted to have Snape say "holy ghost" but I refrained. Be proud of me. I can show restraint.
As always, thank you to my reviewers, brighteyes2889, werevampluvr, Tar-silmarien, Chester99, KodeV, ASJS, shaymars, love bleeds red, Kermit 304, Eliza6801, and Somnus Verus. And all others...guests...shy people. You know who you are. Thanks.