Calling it the dinner from hell may have been overly dramatic, but Hermione thought it pretty close.
The evening started off poorly and went downhill from there. She had been correct in her thinking. They had hated her. Instantly. She knew the second they laid eyes on her. Hate may have been too harsh, but it wasn't too far off. But then, the feelings were mutual. She had never in all her life met two more odious, abhorrent people.
"Are you ready for this?" Draco asked when the doorbell had chimed.
Hermione gave him an exasperated look, "For the thousandth time, yes. It will fine."
Draco took a deep breath, and nodded, "I hope so." He said before heading towards the front door.
Hermione frowned at his retreating back, sure that he was exaggerating. He'd become nervous and short tempered over the last two days, constantly asking if she was sure it was okay, that she could back out of dinner, that he'd simply explain that some type of emergency came up. But she had reassured him every time that all would be well and that he should stop worrying. She couldn't believe that his parents were as horrendous as he was making them out to be and wondered if the reason he was so nervous was because this the first meet the parents since Scorpius' mother.
"Don't worry," Scorpius whispered taking her hand, "I'll look after you."
Hermione smiled at him and squeezed his hand, "Thank you, but I'm sure they're not that bad."
But she couldn't have been further from the truth.
From the moment they walked into the living room she wondered how the two of them managed to produce the son they had. Her first thoughts were that maybe he was adopted, and they never told him. But she knew that wasn't possible; the resemblance of both parents appeared in Draco – his mother's high cheek bones and fine jaw line; his father's blonde hair and grey eyes – the exception being the deadness in his father's eyes and the sneer that seemed to be permanently etched on his face. A sneer which did nothing to assuage the nervous tension in Hermione's stomach. The man looked as though something rotten had perched on his top lip and he couldn't work out what it was.
His mother was beautifully put together, designer clothes and not a hair out of place, but she was aloof and gauging by the awkward hug that her grandson received, she was distant and somewhat cold, looking entirely uncomfortable (but trying not to) with the boy.
"Mother, Father, I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger," Draco's voice was stilted, almost robotic and Hermione was taken aback at the formality of mother and father. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the forced smiles she was given when Draco introduced them, "Hermione, these are my parents, Lucius and Narcissa."
"Mr and Mrs Malfoy, it's lovely to meet you both," Hermione said, determined not to let their sour demeanours affect her.
"Likewise, I'm sure," Narcissa said, while his father gave her a single nod and looked pained from having to smile - a fake smile at that.
"I trust you had a good trip down?" Hermione asked, biting back the snarky but I can tell by your faces it wasn't remark that was on the tip of her tongue.
"It was fine," Lucius said and looked at Draco, "Charles will be back to pick us up at nine."
"Charles?" Hermione asked.
"Our driver." Draco's father said from behind another sneer.
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, "You should have brought him up with you, surely he could have eaten with us?"
"He will get his own dinner." Narcissa said, turning her nose up at Hermione's comment (apparently you didn't eat with the 'help'). She narrowed her eyes at Scorpius' hand clutching onto Hermione's and then turned her attention to Draco, obviously done with the pleasantries and effectively dismissing Hermione, "You can imagine our surprise when Clara and Cuthbert mentioned you were seeing someone."
The chill that had run down Hermione's spine when they had first arrived seemed to have gotten colder. The remark was made to Draco, but was fairly well aimed at Hermione, as if it were somehow her fault that their son had not mentioned her to them.
A stab of unease clenched in her stomach, and her nostrils flared with a surge of annoyance at this women's accusation. She had cancelled plans with Pansy and Ginny to have dinner with them – not that she'd told Draco – she'd bent to their insistence that they meet her at the last minute, and now this woman had the nerve to accuse her of, what? Of simply being someone new in her son's life without her knowledge? From what Hermione could tell, the pair barely saw either their son or grandson, had virtually no interest in their lives, so she had no idea why the hatred and anger were being aimed at her.
"Yes, well, we weren't actually seeing each other at the time," Draco said cautiously and his tone had Hermione frowning. He seemed to be placating his mother, rather than being honest. Yes, they weren't actually together at the time, but something certainly had started.
"Oh, I see," Narcissa said, "They certainly made it sound as though you were."
"My apologies if they misled you." Draco said.
Hermione bit her tongue; the formalities, the apologies, the tension radiating off him, this wasn't the Draco she had come to know. "I was very new in Draco and Scorpius' lives at that stage," Hermione nodded her agreement with Draco, "But Scorpius was very excited about my shop, so his grandparents just assumed that Draco and I were more than just friends. But I'm sure that with your busy lives you just haven't had the time to talk Draco to hear about me."
She saw Draco's shoulder's tense at her comment and Hermione knew she was pushing it, but she didn't care. She was not a violent person, but after only five minutes with these people she was ready to strangle them both.
"Let me get the wine." She stepped away from them and into the kitchen with Scorpius in tow, it seemed he would make good on his promise to look after her. She picked up the bottle of wine from the counter and read the label; Chateau Rayas 2005 Chateauneuf-du-Pape.
Shit.
A six hundred dollar bottle of wine. His parents obviously had high expectations and at this stage she was sure she herself had not met them.
She uncorked the bottle, taking her time, not actually wanting to go back and join them.
"Hermione?" Scorpius said in a low voice, "Are you angry?"
She glanced up at him, and the look of concern on his face had her wondering just how angry she looked. She quickly smiled at him, "No honey. I'm not angry."
"Good," he said, "Don't worry about Grandma and Grandpa, they're always cross."
"I'll try not to," she said and poured out four glasses and juice for Scorpius as Draco entered the kitchen. She shot him a steely-eyed glare.
"Sorry," he whispered, "I didn't think they'd be this bad. This is low, even by their standards."
"This is worse than low." Hermione said through gritted teeth. She'd been holding her temper, holding in the snarky comebacks, but she wasn't sure how much longer that would be possible. She didn't care if they were his parents, these people were vile.
Draco nodded and reached over and squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry," he said again, "I truly am." He picked up two of the glasses, "It's one night, and then I promise you'll never have to see them again."
Hermione nodded, straightened her spine and followed him back into the living room.
"You cooked?" Narcissa asked when Draco pointed them in the direction of the perfectly set dining table. Hermione had noticed it when she had arrived, but had not mentioned it. Draco's flat was always immaculate and she could now see why. He was obviously raised in an environment where order was expected, where nothing should be out of place.
Draco's jaw clenched, "Yes mother, I cooked. You knew I was going to."
"Well, you didn't have to," she told him, "We could have just as easily eaten out."
Yeah, Hermione thought, and made this all the more awkward with restaurant full of people as an audience.
"And as I've told you repeatedly, it's no trouble."
Hermione could see the anger just beneath the surface. He was holding it in, but looked about to explode. Why he hadn't was beyond her. Not only did they abandon him at Christmas, they were now essentially insulting his ability to cook. Hermione swallowed her own anger and disgust, who the hell were these people?
"You've outdone yourself again, Draco," Hermione said with a smile. If his parents were incapable of showing any gratitude, she most certainly would.
Draco smiled back, the first genuine smile to cross his face since Lucius and Narcissa had arrived, "Thank you."
"Hermione has her very own book shop," Scorpius said, smiling widely at her, "And Pansy works there and she lets me help her make coffee sometimes. And Hermione's house is above the shop so she gets to be there all the time, it's so cool. And Dad and I stayed there last week and I slept in James' room and it has stars painted all over the roof."
Hermione couldn't help but smile at Scorpius' enthusiasm. She wasn't even embarrassed at Scorpius innocently telling them that she and Draco were sleeping together; she was past caring what these two insipid people thought of her.
"James?" Lucius asked, his surprise evident, "You have a child?"
Hermione smiled a sickly-sweet fake smile at him – two could play at this man's game, "No, I don't have a child. If I had a child, don't you think he would be here? James is my godson and Scorpius' friend. He has his own bedroom at my flat for when he stays."
She saw Draco's lips twist, hiding the smirk that dared to cross his face. Lucius looked none too pleased at having his obvious error pointed out.
Lucius cleared his throat, deflecting her remark, "You have your own business? A book shop?"
"Yes, I do," she said, giving him nothing. If he wanted to know about her, she would force him to talk to her. They had ignored her for most of the evening. If it had not been for Scorpius, she may as well not have been there.
"Successful?"
"Very."
"You studied business then?" he asked tersely, clearly not enjoying being forced to converse with her.
"No," Hermione told him, and smiled when he raised an eyebrow at her.
"What did you study?"
Hermione was enjoying this more than she probably should have been. He was becoming frustrated while attempting to remain polite. Education was clearly important to this man, his family not so much, but a piece of paper that said you had learned something; well apparently that was a big deal.
"If you mean did I go to university, then no. I didn't. I didn't study business, or marketing, or anything like that. I didn't study anything at all actually." Hermione told him. The years she could have been studying she'd spent in rehab learning to walk again but he didn't need to know that.
"Hermione previously worked at another book store. And from what she's told me she might as well have owned it since she oversaw the daily running of the business." Draco interjected and Hermione felt a rush of annoyance at him. She knew he was simply trying to damp down his father's interrogation of her, but it felt more like a justification of why she wasn't more highly educated.
"Yes, well, I guess on the job training is an essential part of learning." Lucius was about a half a step above openly criticising her lack of formal education, "I'm sure your parents are very proud."
Hermione shrugged, "I'm sure they would be."
"Would be?" Narcissa asked.
Hermione turned to face her, "Yes, would be. They both passed several years ago."
"Apologies for bringing them up." Narcissa glared her son, obviously vexed that she had no prior knowledge of Hermione before this evening and could have curbed her husband's perceived blunder in social etiquette.
"Oh, that's perfectly fine," Hermione assured her, "Just because they're dead, doesn't mean I don't, or can't, talk about them. And yes, they would have been beyond proud of me. I mean, starting up your own business is nerve wracking enough, but for it to be so successful after just two and a half years, well, that's almost unheard of, right?"
Hermione couldn't help the smugness in her voice. She may not have been a millionaire, but she was happy and surrounded by her friends, and in her mind that's what was important. Her success was just an added bonus.
"And her shop is huge, Grandpa," Scorpius informed Lucius, "And her house is ten times as big as ours, right dad?"
"You're right Scorpius," Draco agreed, "Her house is much bigger than ours. And she's worked very hard to get it."
And there it was again, the justification, the reasoning, him selling her to them. Hermione exhaled slowly, it was difficult enough keeping her temper in check with his parents and she didn't want to add him to the mix. She knew he was simply trying to make thing easier, but it was starting to piss her off.
"And she has her own library in her house," Scorpius added, "Not just the books downstairs. And she reads to me so much better than dad does. She does funny voices and everything."
His comment earned Draco a harsh glare from his mother. Draco had explained after the first dinner she'd had with them that Scorpius had never let anyone other than Draco read to him. Even on his weekend visits with his grandparents he refused them the task, so Hermione wasn't sure if Narcissa's anger was directed at her for Scorpius' complete ease with her, or at Draco and the fact that he allowed her to read to him.
"Maybe I could read to you tonight," Narcissa suggested and Hermione instantly knew. The anger was definitely directed at her.
But Scorpius would have none of it, "You can't because Hermione already promised. But you can listen if you like. She's brilliant."
Hermione watched as Narcissa's jaw tightened, "Well, if she's already promised, maybe I can read to you next time."
Scorpius looked puzzled, obviously his grandmother had never once offered to read to him, "No, because it'll probably be ages before we see you again and Hermione will already have promised me. And she's the best." Scorpius' bluntness almost had Hermione laughing.
The sour look returned to Narcissa's face, but she didn't respond. Couldn't respond. Because Hermione knew that Narcissa was well aware that her grandson was right. Narcissa looked at Hermione, "So, you've spent quite some time with Draco and Scorpius then? My grandson seems to know an awful lot about you."
Hermione wanted to shake her head. Another deflection; these people didn't cope well with criticism and they certainly weren't prepared for Hermione to retaliate, to call them out on their own shortcomings. She assumed she was simply supposed to sit there quietly and take the belittlement they were dishing out. But they had no idea who they were dealing with. She'd been taught to speak her mind, and she would be no different with Draco's parents.
And she also didn't miss the emphasis on my grandson. She reached over and squeezed Scorpius' shoulder, "He's very inquisitive, this one. And yes, I have spent a significant amount of time with them."
"And you've no children of your own?"
"Like I already said, no, I don't." Hermione replied, rolling her eyes and wondering just how rude it would be to simply get up and leave.
"Of course," Narcissa said, "But I was just wondering how it is that at your age you have no children and you're single."
Hermione noticed Draco stiffen at his mother's comment, but she simply smiled, "My relationship status has only recently changed," she told her, "Until three years ago, I was in fact happily married. But it turns out he was an arsehole and I don't put up with that kind of crap. From anyone. And as for being my age, your son here is only a year younger than me."
"Yes, but Draco's circumstances were very different," Lucius pointed out, a positively radiant smirk on his face, as if believing he had won some great prize in pointing out that Draco had been in a happy and committed relationship, "I'm certain that you're aware that had Astoria not become sick, she and Draco would still be together."
"Father-" Draco's voice had risen, but Hermione held her hand up, stopping him. She had decided that she'd had enough. She no longer cared what they thought since they had already made up their minds about her.
"And I'm well aware of that. What happened to Scorpius' mother was a terrible tragedy and I hate that it happened. No one deserves that. Draco certainly didn't deserve to lose her and Scorpius certainly should not have to grow up without his mother, no child should have to," She looked pointedly at Narcissa, whose idea of being a mother was to hire a nanny. Hermione's voice was calm but her heart was pounding, "But just so you're aware, had my ex-husband not been such a philandering bastard, I would still be happily married and I wouldn't be sitting here, enjoying dinner with you."she pushed her chair back and stood, her eyes never leaving Draco's fathers, "So if you're finished interrogating me..." she said darkly and then smiled at Scorpius, "Hey Scorp, are you ready to read that book?"
"Yes!" Scorpius exclaimed and leaped off his own chair, "Can we finish it tonight?"
"We sure can," she said and shot a look of death at Draco and then reminded Scorpius, don't forget to say goodnight, she wouldn't be held responsible for him not being polite.
Scorpius, not caring in the least about saying a proper good night, called his farewells over his shoulder as he headed for his bedroom with Hermione following so closely behind him that she missed the faces of his grandparents staring at her, completely stunned.
"Do you think it wise to allow her into his life like this?" the snake like voice of Draco's father drew a shiver down her spine. Scorpius had only lasted five pages before he was sound asleep and snoring, and judging by the conversation that was occurring, she assumed they thought she would be reading for a significant longer amount of time than she had been. She knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but if he was going to be so blatant and talk about her while she was still there, well, it was her right to know what he had to say.
"Scorpius adores her," Draco said, "And she adores him."
"Adores her!?" Lucius sounded skeptical, "How long have you know her? Not more than a few weeks, how could he possibly adore her?"
"It's been over two months, that's more than enough-"
Lucius didn't let him finish, "And what about you? What are your feelings towards her?"
"My feelings towards her are none of your concern. That's between Hermione and me." Draco replied.
Hermione blanched. While they'd not made things official, they were together more often they were not, and she found herself wondering why he was willing to express his sons' feelings to his father, but not his own?
"You certainly cannot be serious about her? Surely you don't think her more than just a plaything?" Lucius' voice reminded Hermione of a snake, low and hissing. "She is beneath you; a mere shop owner. Not worth anything near what you should consider appropriate. I mean, she's certainly not Astoria, she's not even in her league."
"Excuse me?" Draco's voice rose slightly, "You spend two hours with her and you think you know her? You know nothing."
"It's more than enough time to know her," Lucius growled, "And what about Scorpius? When this is all over, how will he feel? Have you even thought about him?"
"And since when did you even care about him?" Draco snapped, "You see him a handful of times a year, if you can be bothered, and you think you have a say in his life? In my life? And I certainly don't have to explain Hermione to you. It's not any of your concern."
"I'm your father; I certainly have a vested interest here." Lucius' voice made Hermione's skin crawl.
She decided she'd heard enough, and made her presence known "And what exactly would your vested interest be?" she remarked as she stepped into the living room.
Lucius cleared his throat, "Hermione, I didn't..." he trailed off, clearly embarrassed by being overheard.
"You didn't what? Didn't think that talking about me while I was in the next room would be offensive?" she asked, keeping her tone light, as if not affected by his comments at all. But she was seething. Who did this man think he was?
Lucius was staring at her, obviously not sure exactly how much she had heard, nor how exactly how to respond, "I mean the polite thing to do would be to at least wait until I left before you disapproved of me. But since I'm here, why not continue? Tell me what you really think Lucius?"
She watched his lip quiver, holding back a sneer, "I am merely concerned about the wellbeing of my grandson."
"Interesting," Hermione said nodding, "I thought that was his father's job. But then he obviously doesn't feel that he has to explain me to you, since whatever it is that we are isn't important enough to share." She glared at Draco. Both men inhaled sharply, realising that she had heard the majority of their conversation. Hermione shook her head and huffed out a wry laugh, "As for not being of the same calibre as Astoria, and I can only assume you mean in terms of money – your grandson has filled me in on the importance of that in your life – so let me tell you; you know nothing of me or of my family. Nothing. Might I suggest that while you're in town, ask about me. You might be surprised.
"Lucius, Narcissa, I'd say it's been a pleasure but we all know that's a lie. I hope that I next time you visit, I'm not invited." She turned to Draco, "I'll see you tomorrow, if you think I'm worthy of your time."
Draco stopped her from storming out, "No, stay, please. My parents were just leaving."
She saw the look of surprise on both their faces. Their son was choosing her over them.
"You're asking us to leave?" Narcissa asked, her eyes were darting between Draco and Hermione.
"No," Draco said, "I'm telling you to leave."
"But Charles-" Narcissa began, and Hermione huffed out a laugh.
In the midst of everything this woman was still more concerned about herself, and the fact that their driver wasn't expected for another twenty minutes. She turned on her heel and headed for Draco's bedroom, she wanted to be as far away from them as she possibly could.
"I don't care if Charles isn't here! Stand out there until he arrives!" Draco shouted, "You both need to leave. Now."
Draco closed the door, his hand lingered on the hard wood curling into a fist. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He couldn't believe his parents had acted as they had. He was used to the stand over tactics they regularly employed, the intimidation, the insults, the put-downs, but this was a whole new low.
He had watched as they tried to tear Hermione down, and was disgusted in himself for letting it happen. She'd held her own, and he had to admit he was impressed with the fact that she had put them in their place, very few people had the ability to do so,but he should have stepped in sooner, told them to leave, to not come back unless they were ready to show her some respect. He inwardly berated himself, his behavior had been deplorable.
And Astoria. Why did they bring her up? They'd not spoken of her since she had died, and now they chose to? In fact he was sure that they truly hadn't cared for her at all, that they had been polite towards her only because his father merely saw her as a stepping stone to do business with her abundantly wealthy parents. He was sure his father had only brought her up to get a rise out of Hermione, but had failed miserably.
He ran his hand across his face and steadied his breathing, before turning and walking slowly down the hallway.
"Hermione?" Draco said quietly, but still managed to startle her. She was pacing in his bedroom, her jaw set, her face a picture of fury.
"What the hell was that?" she snapped, "I honestly thought you were lying about them."
"I'm sorry," he said stepping towards her.
"That's it?" she stopped pacing and glared at him, "Seriously? Sorry? That's it?"
"They're arseholes," he said, "I told you that."
"No, you said they were different." Hermione reminded him, "Different means some kooky religion, or that your mother wears feathers in her hair, or that your father collects doorknobs. Different does not mean rude or obnoxious or hateful. And you just let it happen. You let them try to tear me apart. Draco, I don't even know who you were tonight," Hermione shook her head unbelievingly, "Is that how you are very time you're with them?"
Draco knew she was right. He was always on edge around them; he had been his entire life. He'd stopped trying to please his parents a long time ago, and his small act of rebellion in following his heart and becoming a teacher instead of following his father and becoming a heartless business mogul was like a breath of fresh air. He barely saw them as a he grew up, and now he saw less of them since they were none too pleased with Draco's career decision.
But the fact that he was now an adult didn't change a lifetime of anxiety when they were around.
"Hermione, I don't know what else to say. I've not ever seen them as bad as they were tonight. I am as disgusted with them as you are."
"And yet, you still said nothing," Hermione huffed out a breath, "I'm sure that I didn't hear everything that was said, but clearly your father thinks I'm not worthy of your time."
"Why do you care what he thinks? It's irrelevant."
"Is it?" Hermione asked, "Because if this," she indicated between the two of them, "Is something, I will have to deal with him. He's your father. I've met him one time Draco, one time and already I can't be in the same room with him without wanting to kill him!"
"Get in line. There's at least a thousand people who want the same." Draco told her.
"This is a joke?" she was pissed right now and he was making jokes?
"No, I'm completely serious. He hates everyone equally."
"Well, I'm sure I'll go to the top of the list when he - they - find out about me." She snapped.
"Find out about-" Draco paused, "That's not their business."
"Not their business?" Hermione huffed out a laugh, "If this thing between you and me goes somewhere, will they be expecting more grandchildren? Because if they are they'll be sorely disappointed."
"They barely see the one they have," Draco said, "So I'm sure they won't even notice."
"Really Draco?"
"Really. They could care less about it. In fact they'd probably be overjoyed; no more children to wipe dirty finger prints everywhere. You saw how uncomfortable my mother was with the grandson she has, she'd be grateful to not have anymore. " He took a deep breath, "Hermione, this is about me, who I decided to be with. Not them. They have no say in it."
She stood staring at him, her hands on her hips, "But it's more than that. You may have accepted me, and all my faults, but I really cannot see them ever doing so."
"So that's it then," Draco's heart dropped, "You're just going to give up on this? Give up on me? On Scorpius?"
"Don't bring Scorpius into this, this is between you and me." Hermione hissed at him.
"That's where you're wrong. Scorpius is in this. Him and me, we're a package deal. What happens with me affects him. And whomever I'm with has to accept that."
"And have I given you any indication that I haven't?" Hermione glared at him daring him to answer in the negative. She adored Scorpius and Draco knew it.
"Of course you haven't," Draco glared back at her, "But you spend two hours with my parents and you're questioning us?"
"They're your parents!" Hermione was exasperated.
Draco took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, "And they're not around anywhere near as much as you'd think. This was the last weekend they had before they leave, and it was very inconvenient for them as they had to give up a business dinner with some very important people for this, as I was told repeatedly. "
Hermione noticed the sneer on Draco's face, it was identical to the one she'd seen earlier on his father's face. But Draco's was aimed at his father, not her. There was clearly some deep seated resentment regarding his father.
"But they insisted-"
"Exactly," Draco said, "They expect me and Scorp to jump through hoops for them and then they turn everything around, make themselves look like the concerned parents, like they've put themselves out for our sakes. But like I said, they're just arseholes. Plain and simple. And they've not been any different my entire life"
"Draco, you and Scorpius," she huffed out a breath, "You both…" she choked on her words.
Draco gripped her shoulders, "Hermione, please don't let them get to you. They might be my parents but they're not as important to me as you would think."
She rubbed her forehead, fighting the tears that were building, "Draco, I just need some time. I just need to think about this. Please?"
"Hermione, I know you're angry but please don't-" He stopped suddenly and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, the anger he had managed to keep in check all night finally surfacing, "This is not about them at all, is it? This is about you. You and the walls you put up to keep yourself from actually letting anyone in. To keep from letting anyone love you. You're too busy keeping those walls around your heart to realise that I'm not an arsehole. You're so sure that every man on the planet is exactly the same as your ex-husband, that you're not even willing to give me a chance. I know my parents treated you like shit, but I never have. Not once. If you don't want to be with me, that's fine, but don't use them as an excuse."
"Draco, I-"
But he cut her off, "How much time?"
She swallowed, "I don't know. I'll call you."
He pursed his lips, his jaw clenching hard. But he said nothing. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him this wasn't over, she just needed to clear her head, but anything she said now would just be placating him. So she stepped away, grabbed her bag and left.