Hermione faced the mirror on the back of her wardrobe's door, carefully tracing over the fabric that covered her petite frame. The maroon fabric was a lovely contrast against her pale skin, but Hermione still couldn't help but frown about how the dress accentuated parts of her body that she wasn't quite comfortable with. Growing up in the company of Harry and Ron, Hermione had never really felt the need to be insecure about her figure, seeing as the boys never really gave a care. They were too busy taking bets on upcoming Quidditch games than to notice how Hermione's body was changing from a frumpy tween to a womanly figure. Godric, even Ginny had barely taken notice of how drastically Hermione's looks had changed.
Discarding the maroon dress onto the rumpled quilt that covered her double bed, Hermione kept shuffling through her closet to locate something that Narcissa Malfoy would deem appropriate of being worn in her household. Feeling the different fabric between her fingers, Hermione finally landed on a black chiffon dress that she had stored in the far right of her wardrobe. Removing the hanger from the slightly sagging rack, she held the dress up to the light.
The dress had been a gift from her mother her fifth year. Hermione had never really had an opportunity to wear it, seeing as it wasn't formal enough to wear to a wedding, yet not casual enough to wear everyday. In fact, it was a perfect balance of inbetween.
"I hope this fits." Hermione sighed, and shed the comfy jumper and jeans that she had been wearing. Carefully maneuvering the dress over her somewhat behaving curls, the young witch shimmied the smooth onyx fabric over her body, until it hung neatly around her.
Looking back into the mirror, Hermione was actually quite pleased with the look and cut of the dress. The hem was a bit short for what the Malfoy's might consider proper length for propriety, but that wasn't something that a flick of her wand couldn't fix. The gentle flutter of the sheer cap sleeves gave the dress a feminine touch, while the slight swish of the chiffon skirt made the dress seem somewhat relaxed.
"Crescere." Hermione waved her wand, and watched as the hem of the dress grew an extra three inches, making it fall gently at the line just below her knee. Looking back into her wardrobe, Hermione selected a black velvet cloak that she had acquired in France during her travels to give her a bit of warmth. Slipping her wand into the cloak's pocket, Hermione left her bedroom and headed to her living room, where her connection to the Floo network was located.
Hermione's flat was the perfect hideaway for the young witch. Tucked into a quiet street in the south of London, it was spacious without being overwhelming. The living room boasted wall to floor bookshelves, which housed Hermione's constantly growing collection of books. The furnishings were modest, yet tasteful, and she had a lovely kitchen with a small breakfast nook that sat four. Her bedroom featured a dipped skylight that allowed her to view the stars on cloudless nights. Overall, this place was exactly what Hermione had dreamed of calling home when she left Hogwarts. She was terrified of losing it, which made her even more determined to figure out what Lucius Malfoy wanted with her and her vault.
When Hermione approached her living room fireplace, she quickly glanced at the small glance on her mantle piece, making sure she was on a proper schedule. The hands on the petite gilded clock read 3:52, and Hermione knew that she was right on track. Reaching up into the small crystal jar she kept on her fireplace, Hermione took a handful of Floo powder. With a deep breath, she summoned the place she wished to go into her mind, and said it out loud, not knowing if she would come back the same.
"Malfoy Manor."
With a rustle of the flames, she was gone.
-00000-
Draco Malfoy stood in the foyer of the Manor, awaiting the arrival of Hermione Granger for tea.
Tea with Granger. How positively domestic. Draco thought to himself. Never in a thousand years did the young Malfoy believe that Hermione Granger would be joining him and his elitist parents for a spot of tea. It was just simply preposterous, yet here he was.
Looking down at his clothes, Draco brushed a small piece of lint that was clinging to his black silk tie. He was dressed in his usual day finery, made from the richest textiles available. His tie was accented by his signature serpent pin, and both of his usual rings adorned his hands. Tooney, his house elf, had even shined and polished his usual black dragonhide leather boots. The entire Malfoy Manor had been abuzz with the news of a guest. It had been such a long time since visitors had set foot in the Manor. Draco wasn't sure if that was a negative or positive thing, but he could digress.
His attention had been so focused on observing the state of his clothing that Draco didn't realize that the young Granger witch had arrived in his family's ancestral home. A brightening flash of green light emitted from the middle fireplace in a line of three that adorned the hall, signaling her appearance. Quickly looking up, Draco straightened his posture. He watched as the young witch removed herself from the ornate marble fireplace, taking one careful step out of the hearth, and placing her foot onto the polished mahogany floor of the hallway.
Granger's face was partially obscured from view with a rich black velvet cloak, but Draco could have identified her anywhere from the small chestnut curl that was escaping out from underneath her hood. He watched her as she lowered the hood altogether, revealing a face that had been haunting his thoughts constantly for the past few weeks. Hermione looked around, before her eyes locked directly with the young Malfoy's. Her chocolate orbs glanced intensely into his storm ones, and she was the first to speak after a few seconds of intense silence.
"Good afternoon, Malfoy." Granger greeted him with a clipped tone. Draco knew that she was indefinitely going to harbor all sorts of resentment and hatred towards him, but he hadn't expected her to be so cold from the beginning. This was going to be a joy.
"Good afternoon, Granger." Malfoy responded. Hermione eyed him warily. His appearance overall hadn't changed significantly since the last time she had seen him, but there was definitely a bit of maturing that had occurred. His usual slicked back hair was now a bit less contained, with a slight curl towards the ends. It was longer, kept at the base of his neck, almost imitating his father's signature look. Malfoy's fashion style had apparently not changed a bit; he was still dressed in his usual black finery.
Their limited greetings to one another were all that filled the air as they both stood there. The tension in the room wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't comfortable either. A few beats passed before Draco took the initiative to escort Granger to where his parents were awaiting them.
"Tooney, please take Miss Granger's cloak." Malfoy called to his house elf, and with a sudden crack!, a wrinkled creature wearing a lopsided apron and a pair of mismatched knitted woolen socks arrived in the hallway.
"Tooney will take the missus' cloak, Master Draco!" Tooney announced in her high pitched voice, before turning expectantly to Hermione.
"Oh, yes. Thank you." Hermione spoke, a bit uncomfortable, before undoing her cloak with a tug of the silver clasp. Folding the soft material over the crook of her arm, Hermione handed the bundle to the small house elf after she removed her wand. Tooney eagerly took the cloak with a quick 'Thank you, mistress!', before she disappeared again. Hermione then looked to Draco, trying to decipher what to do next.
"My parents are waiting for us in the solarium. Follow me." Draco motioned for Granger to follow him, and she willingly obliged. Turning, Draco heard a shuffle of footsteps behind him before he realized that Granger intended to walk in stride with him, instead of behind.
They began their trek across the manor in silence, Draco leading the way through the ancient structure. Hermione watched with her surroundings with observant eyes. Elaborate tapestries and priceless works of art lined the mahogany paneled walls, which flowed into matching wooden floors topped with intricately woven Persian carpets. Everything that caught her gaze exuded a feeling of aristocracy and wealth. Though, Hermione couldn't have expected anything less than premier for the decor of Malfoy Manor.
Though what Hermione didn't notice was the fact that someone was observing her. Draco watched in curiosity as Granger took in the furnishings of the manor. He also could not help but to discern the change in the young witch's overall appearance. Granger was no longer an awkward, lanky limbed teeanager. Her shape had refined from jutted elbows and bushy curls to womanly curves and smoothed coils. Draco couldn't resist his natural appreciation for the way that the black dress she wore hugged her body, cradling her rear in a way that would make any grown man stop and look. The young Malfoy's eyes continued over her body until he locked eyes on the ugly scar that marred her left forearm, and instantly his stomach dropped.
Draco remembered that day vividly. The screams of Granger being tortured by his Aunt Bellatrix still haunted him in his dreams at night, and a feeling of guilt seemed to flow through him everytime he thought of his part in that dreadful day. There had always been a part of him that had wondered what would've happened if he had just had the courage to stand up to his father, and not identified Granger and her friends. The past was the past though. Granger probably hated him for what he had done, but Draco noticed that even if she did, she held her cool around him with impressive strength.
He didn't realize that Granger had noticed his staring until her chocolate brown eyes met his, and Draco instinctively looked away. Hermione knew that Malfoy was probably repulsed by the mark that seared her skin, but she wore it as a badge of honor. A testament to the fact that she survived.
"I know it's a bit unsightly, but it's a reminder to me. That's why I refuse to cover it." Hermione knew it was a simple statement, but she felt like it was something that had to be said. Malfoy looked at her in a somewhat state of surprise, his stormy eyes widening a bit at the confidence in her words.
"We won't be going anywhere near the drawing room today. The solarium is just through here." Was all that Draco could manage to say, before he moved quickly towards a set of double doors, heading directly to where his parents were awaiting them. Hermione nodded, and followed his hastened pace.
When they finally reached a pair of ornate glass doors, Draco stood up a bite straighter. His previously relaxed posture went rigid, and his normal smirk was replaced with a stone face. It was like he was putting on a mask, Hermione noticed. Like he was becoming a character in another story. Malfoy placed his hand on the worn brass handle, and pushed the door open. A gush of unexpected warm air hit Hermione's face, and the sweet smell of gardenias and fresh freesia filled her nose.
"After you." Draco spoke curtly, and held out his hand as a signal for her to enter first. Hermione looked him warily in the eyes, before she took a step into the somewhat humid room.
Well, this is it. Here goes nothing. She thought to herself, and prepared her mind to play the part of a century.