The sound of clanking silverware and wrestling knitting needles, and the ruckus of varying voices filled Hermione's ears as she sat perched on one of the overstuffed couches of the Burrow's living room. People flitted around her, and the smell of pancakes and bacon filled her senses. She could hear random conversations, ranging from Molly's distinct shrill voice to the cackle of Fred and George once again pulling another prank on an unsuspecting Percy.
Hermione had always considered the Burrow another home. While she adored her parents, there had always been something almost sterile about growing up in her parents Muggle home. The Burrow was the complete opposite, in the best way possible. It was always bursting at the seams with happiness and joy, loud noises and clutter. It may have been a bit bonkers to outsiders, but that made Hermione love it even more.
The chirping voice of a two year old toddler saying "Hermy!" brought Hermione's attention back to the commotion around her. Looking down, she saw a still somewhat wobbly Teddy Lupin reaching for her, his little arms outstretched for her to pick him up.
"Hey Teddy Bear." Hermione immediately obliged his request, and lifted the small child into her arms. Almost instantly, Teddy's previously bright blue hair morphed into an almost exact replica of Hermione's untamable honey colored coils, making her laugh.
Teddy would often morph his appearance to match whoever was holding him or giving him attention. Sometimes he would have the shock red hair of a Weasley, or Harry's unruly black locks, but most often he was coordinated with his mother. Tonks repeatedly changed her hair, and Hermione doubted that she had ever seen the Auror's locks the same shade twice. While some individuals may have found being a Metamorphmagus a bit tedious, Tonks used it as a prized skill.
"Hermy, I want juice!" Teddy declared once Hermione had finally settled the squirming child in her lap. Since Hermione's name was so long, Teddy still struggled to properly pronounce it. Hermy was his own personal compromise.
"You don't need juice, my little one. You've had quite enough." Andromeda Tonks spoke to her grandson, and Hermione chuckled. Dromeda had become a dear friend since the end of the war, and was also the only person who young Teddy listened to besides Harry, Tonks, and Remus.
"How are you, Hermione dear? I hear your new job at the Ministry starts tomorrow." Andromeda asked as she sat down next to Hermione on the cushion covered sofa. Teddy instantaneously wiggled from Hermione's grasp, and crawled into his grandmother's sweater clad arms.
"I'm alright. Starting work at the Ministry tomorrow is exciting. I'm ready to start working." Hermione responded. She was trying not to let on that she was also dealing with the inner turmoil of someone's chance of survival pending solely on her.
Though, having raised a daughter herself, Andromeda saw right through her facade. She gave Hermione a knowing look.
"There's something you're not telling me. Let me remind you, I raised Nymphadora...there's nothing you can say that would surprise me or make me uncomfortable. So what's wrong my dear?" Dromeda asked, and Hermione let loose a sigh that she didn't realize she had been holding in.
If there was anyone who could relate and help her understand the complexes of the Malfoy family curse, it was Andromeda. Maybe she could use her help to understand the cards that she had just been dealt.
"Something has happened...and I need to discuss it with someone. But I would prefer to do so in private." Hermione responded, looking around at the many people that filled the kitchen, living and dining room of the Burrow. Andromeda nodded in understanding, calling Tonks over from the dining room table, where she and Ginny had been facing off in a game of Exploding Snap.
"Do you need me to take Teddy, Mum?" Tonks approached her mother, extending her arms to take her son. Andromeda nodded, and handed the tot over. Teddy instantly wrapped his arms around his mom, once again changing his hair to match Tonks' current hairstyle of violet curls.
"Thank you, love. Hermione, why don't we take a stroll around the gardens. I'm sure Molly won't mind us disappearing for a while." Dromeda motioned for Hemione to follow her. Getting up from the couch, the young witch remembered to grab her bag, as it housed the items she intended to show Andromeda.
The pair exited the main, congested part of the house, and entered out into the fresh October morning air. It was a surprisingly warm day, and the sun was shining high and bright in the sky. Some of the Weasley children, with Harry included, were gathered around the backyard's makeshift quidditch pitch. Fleur was watching from the sidelines with Bill, cradling a sleeping baby Victoire in her arms. Both Angelina Johnson, and Fred's new girlfriend Julianna were lounged about on a blanket, alongside Percy's girlfriend Aubrey.
Andromeda led them away from the crowded game, heading in the direction of Molly Weasley's beloved rose garden. There was a secluded bench under a tree in the far corner, which was a familiar place for Hermione. She had often come there to read when she had spent time at the Burrow during her childhood. It had been a great spot to escape the rambunctiousness of the Weasley family, and to gain some peace and quiet.
Both witches took the small pavestone path through the gated garden, careful to avoid the thorns of any of the charmed roses. The distinct, sweet smell still permeated the air even this late into October, seeing as Molly Weasley had long ago charmed the plants to stay alive and bright even into the harsh weather of winter months.
They finally arrived at the small stone bench, and Andromeda offered Hermione the grace of seating herself first. Sliding onto the cool stone, Hermione situated herself so that Dromeda could comfortably join her. When the elder witch was perched in a way that she felt satisfactory, she turned to Hermione with a questioning glance, prompting the young witch to begin.
"Last friday, I went to Gringotts with the sole intention of depositing a check that I had received that morning into my vault. When I approached the goblin and handed him my vault key, he informed me that my vault had been locked due to a claim that had been taken out against it." Hermione began her tale, and Andromeda instantly gave her a confused look.
"What kind of claim would be taken out against your vault?" She questioned.
"A Dotis Nomine claim. That's what started this whole mess." Hermione reponsded, waiting for Dromeda to translate the Latin title in her head. When the words and their translations finally clicked, a look of utter horror filled the elder witch's face.
"Who in Merlin's beard would put a dowry claim down against your vault? Please tell me you've contacted your solicitor, Hermione!" Dromeda gave her a look of panic, and Hermione nodded.
"I've already contacted my solicitor, and I should receive a response from him tomorrow. But that isn't the worst part. The person who placed the claim, and the reason behind the whole situation is much more unsavory." Hermione reassured her, but also warned Andromeda of the sheer magnitude that the whole debacle had come to.
"Who placed the claim on your vault?" Andromeda asked calmly. Hermione knew that her next answer was going to shake the older woman to her magical core.
"Lucius Malfoy." Those two simple words sent Andromeda into a spiral of rage. Her normally gentle brown eyes filled with a sheen of anger that Hermione, and few others, had ever seen. Andromeda's hands began to tremble, and Hermione was quick to gently place her own palms against the elder witches. Lucius Malfoy was a sore subject, and Hermione hated bringing him up, but it was more than necessary.
"That foul, vile man." Was all that Dromeda said, speaking of her abhorrent brother in law. Hermione knew that Andromeda's hatred for Lucius ran deeper than most, seeing as he had been a participant in the murder of her husband. But Hermione also needed Andromeda to understand why Lucius had done what he had, and his motives for such a dramatic action against her.
"Andromeda, have you ever seen an enchanted tapestry, like the one in Grimmauld Place?" Hermione questioned the older witch, and Andromeda gave her an addled look for bringing up such an obscure object. It took a few moments for the matriarch of the Tonks family to process her question, but she finally answered.
"Well, yes. I've encountered a few in my time. All enchanted with very dark and ancient magic. Magic that should not be toyed with. Why do you ask?" Andromeda replied, and Hermione nodded, somewhat pleased that Andromeda could possibly provide some answers to her questions.
"When Narcissa married into the Malfoy family, did she ever mention a tapestry of the family tree? Maybe an enchanted one?" Hermione was careful not to mention Lucius' name directly as she questioned the older witch. Andromeda looked at her for a moment, seeming to scan through her memories, trying to recall if her baby sister had ever mentioned such an object.
"I remember Narcissa mentioning something of the sort, years ago. It was back when she still considered me a member of her family. Her and Lucius had just started dating, or courting, as our families referred to it as. She was enamoured with him. Narcissa was in love with the idea of marrying into the Malfoy family. It was late at night, and she had just finished a date with Lucius. She was bubbling with excitement, saying something about how his family's legacy had chosen her as Lucius' perfect match."
"Something along the lines of 'my name was stitched in the Malfoy family tree, just as it's supposed to'. Of course, I thought she was just bumbling about. Is there really such a thing? Is there a tapestry that predicts the marriages of the Malfoy family?" Andromeda recalled the instance long ago that Narcissa had mentioned her involvement with the tapestry. Hermione looked at her and nodded, and Andromeda's face took on a look of pure surprise.
"All this time I thought Narcissa had been mumbling nonsense...but Hermione, what does any of that have to do with you and this ridiculous claim?"Andromeda seemed to be trying to piece together the puzzle that Hermione had laid before her.
"There has been a new name stitched into the tapestry." Was all that the young witch said, and with those words, Andromeda finally figured out what Hermione had been trying to explain all along.
"Oh dear. My sweet girl. Connecting you to Draco, I presume." Andromeda was an intelligent woman, and instantly knew who Hermione had been linked to, via the tapestry's ancient magic.
"Lucius did what he did to get me to the manor, just so that I would actually be willing to speak to any of them. The claim was just a diversion. The marriage alignment was the real kicker." Hermione sighed, and Andromeda placed a comforting hand on the younger witch's shoulder as a sign of consolement.
"I'm sure that there is something we can do to stop this, Hermione. My sister and her sick husband cannot bully you into marrying that dreadful boy. It simply will not happen, not if I, or anyone else who loves you has a say in it." Andromeda seemed to already be planning escape routes, but Hermione had yet to tell her the worst part of the predicament.
"Unfortunately Dromeda, it's not that easy. The tapestry isn't enchanted just to predict marriages. It carries a curse. An evil, miserable bit of dark magic that is unarguable." Hermione responded.
"Whatever do you mean?" Andromeda questioned, and Hermione finally told the elder witch the cards that she had been dealt.
"If I do not marry Malfoy by his twenty first birthday on June fifth of this coming year, he will die. The curse that is tied to the tapestry prevents him from refusing the match. If he does, or if I do, poison will fill his veins. If we don't marry by his birthday, it will be his last." Hermione dropped the secret that had been heavy on her heart, and Andromeda looked at her with eyes that spoke volumes.
"So either you marry my nephew and save his life, or my sister loses the only thing she's ever truly loved." Andromeda summed up the state of affairs, Hermione nodding in confirmation at her conclusions. Andromeda shook her head in disbelief.
"Malfoy may have done terrible things, Andromeda, but he was just a child. Just like Harry. Like me. Narcissa was right in her letter. He never had a choice. He's never had a life that wasn't predetermined for him by some controlling father or demented overlord."
"What letter?" Andromeda asked, and Hermione realized she had yet to show Andromeda any of the claim paperwork, or even Narcissa's letter. Opening her enchanted bag, Hermione rooted around until she found the letter. Pulling the piece of parchment from the small satchel, she handed it to the witch who was seated next to her.
Andromeda lightly took the letter, and Hermione noticed a hint of recognition and sadness filling the senior witch's eyes as she scanned her estranged sister's handwriting. She read the letter once, then twice, before once again returning the note to Hermione. Andromeda took a deep breath, obviously trying to collect her thoughts, before finally turning to her companion.
"Obviously this is a very delicate case of events. My sister has always adored that boy, and I can understand her plea. All a mother wants is for her child to exceed and be happy in life. But Hermione, I also want you to understand that this is your choice. Your life as well. If you choose to give Draco a chance, I will support you. I cannot speak for the others, but I know that you would never intentionally send someone to their death if you could prevent it."Andromeda spoke her opinion.
"So you think I should give him a chance?"
"I think that you should take all sides of the situation into consideration. This is your life, Hermione. Your future. Whatever you feel is best for you. I will do my best to support you by whatever means, no matter your choice. Just promise me that you will be careful, and that when you've decided, you'll tell the others." Andromeda gave Hermione a knowing look. Hermione nodded.
"Thank you, Andromeda. For listening. I felt like you were the only one who could understand at the moment. And I promise, once I figure out the whole ordeal, I will key everyone in." Hermione promised, and Andromeda gathered her in a tight hug before releasing her.
"Now, I don't know about you, my dear, but I am famished. How about we go enjoy that brunch we came here for, huh?" Dromeda proposed, and Hermione laughed before nodding. Getting up from the bench, both witches headed towards the house, where a feast of Molly Weasley's delectable array of breakfast foods were sure to soothe any troubled souls that dared to consume them.
-00000-
Draco crumpled up what seemed to be his hundredth piece of parchment that morning into an infuriating ball, before sending it flying across the room towards his study's wastebasket. Once again, he missed. The discarded paper barely brushed the rim of brass colored receptacle before falling listlessly to the floor. Draco sighed, and rubbed his ink stained hands across his temple in frustration.
He had been trying to pen a proper letter to Granger for the past hour and a half, and he had still failed to even get past the first line of greeting. He had barely written anything, and yet his pale hands already ached from his efforts. Retrieving yet another leaflet of parchment from the more than adequate stack on his desk, Draco poised his quill to write. However, as soon as he placed the nib of his writing instrument to the paper, his mind went blank. Closing his eye, Draco let out a growl of frustration, eliciting a chirp from his owl.
"Don't look at me like that, you bloody insolent fowl. You try writing a letter to a woman who would like to see your head on a silver platter." Draco growled at the elegant great horned owl that sat delicately on his brass perch. Hermes gave his master an unaffected look, before returning back to his task of preening his noir colored wing feathers.
Hermes had been a gift from his mother for Draco's twentieth birthday. The young Malfoy had never had an owl of his own, having grown up using his family's collection of birds. Draco had named the bird after the Greek god Hermes, known as the messenger of the gods. It had seemed fitting to the young wizard. Hermes was a majestic bird indeed, but he also shared the same amount of sass with his master, making him quite a difficult specimen. Nevertheless, Draco still found him to be a loyal companion.
Taking what he assumed was a feeble attempt at a calming breath, Draco turned his attention back to the miserable letter he was trying to pen. He racked his brain on how to begin the note, finally deciding on something that was neither formal nor personal. Something completely platonic in all senses of the word.
To Miss H. Granger,
There. That seemed simple enough. He hadn't referred to her as Hermione, as that was completely too intimate for Draco's liking. Instead, it was a cordial and short introduction. Continuing on.
It would be my...
Honor? Pleasure? Certainly neither of those things, seeing as Granger and himself could not stand one another. It was a request, a simple invitation. There was certainly no pleasure in the predicament that he was in, but the wording of pleasure seemed to be the most appealing to Draco, so he bit his tongue and went with it.
It would be my pleasure to extend an invitation for lunch tomorrow afternoon, at your timely convenience. Discussions regarding recent events to be included. Please owl me with your response.
Sincerely,
D. M.
Draco hadn't even realized that he had completed a functional letter until he had placed his quill back into it's silver stand. Looking down at the unblemished parchment, he felt like his eyes were betraying him. His only solid confirmation that he was the only writer of the letter was his ever familiar initials at the bottom of the message.
Bloody hell. Draco thought to himself as he watched the sable colored letters dry into the fibers of the paper.
When the writings were finally smudge proof, the young Malfoy carefully folded the request into crisp folds. Taking the ladle of hot emerald colored wax away from it's flame, Draco poured a pile of the heated liquid onto the letter to seal it. Finishing with a stamp of his family's crest, he got up from the mahogany colored desk. Hermes immediately stuck out his leg in anticipation when he noticed Draco approaching him, letter in hand.
Draco tied the letter to the avian's foot, and invited the animal to perch on his arm so that he could open a window. Walking towards the west wall of his apartment, Draco unlatched a pane of the wide rectangular glass panel. Once there was enough space, Hermes took off into crisp London morning air. Watching his familiar disappear into the city skyline, Draco closed the window and relatched it. His main task for today was complete, and now his only responsibilities for the day related solely to himself.
Blowing out the candle on his desk, Draco exited his office, closing the heavy french doors behind himself. He headed towards the kitchen, where he promptly made himself a fresh cup of black coffee with a flick of his hawthorne wand. Draco had a slight addiction to the caffeinated beverage, much to his mother's chagrin. He drank it strictly black, and much preferred it to the tea that he had been raised on. Something about the dark colored roast resonated with Draco. Maybe it was the strong taste, or the potent ingredients, he did not know. Just that he liked it, immensely.
With a cup of coffee in his pale hand, Draco meandered his way into the den, where he picked up the newest addition of the Daily Prophet that had been delivered to his doorstep that morning. On the front page was an article, with the blaring title that read:
HERMIONE GRANGER, WAR HEROINE AND GOLDEN GIRL, TO START WORK AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC ON MONDAY!
By Rita Skeeter
When Draco's silver eyes passed over the robust black print, he nearly spit out the sip of coffee that he had just taken. It was like he couldn't escape Granger, even when he was trying to do the simplest of tasks. Reading the Sunday paper in his own bloody flat shouldn't have been so complicated, yet here he was. It didn't help that the article was also written by Rita Skeeter, the biggest pest of the wizarding journalism community. Sighing, Draco avoided said article, and went directly to the quidditch stats page to catch up on his sporting news needs.
After the war had ended, wizarding communities had tried to get back to normal and fulfilling lives. Quidditch and other sports and magical games had taken off immensely, promoting a brand new industry bloom. Professional teams were gaining more and more popularity, and Draco had even taken the chance of investing some of his inheritance into stock for some professional teams. Excluding the Holyhead Harpies, considering the youngest Weaselette was part of their roster. Draco was trying to stay as far away from Potter and his motley crew. Though, that now seemed like it was going to be changing, if everything went properly.
Besides the looming threat of dying hanging over his pale blond head, Draco was living a life that he was quite comfortable with. He had moved out the manor the summer after the war, and found a large and appealing flat in a posh neighborhood in London. It boasted three bedrooms, an office and library. A large kitchen, and all the room that one snotty rich bachelor would need. One of the bedrooms had been converted into Draco's personal potions lab and storeroom. The other remained a guest room, per his mother's strong request.
Overall, Draco liked his life as it was. He brewed potions to sell independently, under a pseudonym. He watched quidditch and drank liquor with Theo and Blaise. He had all the monetary means he could ever ask for. It was an ideal life, where he could stay in the shadows. Nevertheless, everything was about to change. Draco could be potentially marrying Hermione Granger, or dying within the next nine months. Either way, all the young Malfoy heir could do was put up his feet, read the paper, and patiently await Granger's reply.
-00000-
"Feet off the tables, boys! I've told you many times before. You'd think I'd raised a bunch of heathens!" Molly Weasly shouted at Fred and George, who both had their feet propped up casually on the Weasley family's kitchen table.
The excitement from the Burrow's annual Sunday brunch was winding down, and only a few remaining family members and guests dwindled around. Andromeda, Teddy, Lupin, and Tonks had already left, along with Bill and Fleur, with baby Victore in tow. Percy and Audrey had also already left, with Percy mumbling something about needing to check on something for work. The only people who remained were the rest of the Weasley family, Hermione, Harry, and the twin's girlfriends Angelina and Julianna.
Both Fred and George had taken over the dining room table with an assortment of new Weasley Wizard Wheezes merchandise, showing it off to the family before it launched in store. Everything from Tickling Trickster Balding Hair Dye to WonderWitch Fizzing Fluffs, a new cosmetic product that neither Hermione or Ginny had been keen to test.
Ron and Harry were in the living room with Arthur discussing something that had happened with the Aurors at work, while Ginny and Hermione were helping Molly with the last of the dishes. The twins were being as adolescent as ever, and their significant others were shaking their heads in frustration, probably questioning why they had chosen to enter into relationships with such children.
Molly had just finished drying a plate with a fringed tea towel when she decided to grill Hermione on her life and all of it's happenings.
"Hermione dear, are you excited about tomorrow? First day at the Ministry and all that?" Molly questioned cheerily, and Hermione offered the older woman an answer with a small smile.
"I'm excited to get to work. There's a lot of new policies that I can't wait to get involved with." Hermione was doing her best to be as truthful as possible. She didn't want to reveal that she was also absolutely terrified of starting her first real job in less than twenty four hours.
"Well, I just know you'll do absolutely splendidly. And remember, if you need anything at all, I'm sure the boys would do anything to be helpful." Molly placed the dish she had finished drying onto the clean pile that Ginny was currently putting up.
"I know they would." Hermione confirmed.
"You know that Ronald would do anything for you especially. He does love you so, Hermione, love." Molly Weasley was once again trying to investigate the relationship of Ron and Hermione. Hermione was a bit taken aback by Molly's sudden intrusion, but Ginny rapidly jumped into action.
"Mum, really? We've talked about this. Ron and Hermione are happy just as friends. Please, let them be." The young ginger woman gently pulled her intrusive mother away, leaving Hermione standing there with a stunned look on her face and a half dried gravy boat in her hands.
"Hey." Harry's familiar voice interrupted her stunned train of thought, and Hermione turned to face her friend of over a decade.
"Hi."
"Gin sent me over to talk. She's pulled Molly away to distract her, and Ron and Arthur are having some conversation that I have absolutely no interest in, so here I am. How are you?" Harry summed up his position in the social dynamic as Hermione placed the ceramic dishware that she had been drying back onto the counter.
"I've been better." Hermione responded.
"How was it at Malfoy Manor yesterday?" Harry leaned in closer, closing the gap between Hermione and himself, so that no one could listen in to their conversation.
"It wasn't great. In fact, it was downright awful." Hermione whispered, and Harry gave her a concerned and questioning look.
"What did Malfoy do, Hermione? What happened?" Harry sounded a bit panicked now, and Hermione immediately tried to calm him, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation. She put a hand on Harry's, and leaned in a bit closer.
"I got some unexpected news, that's all. And Malfoy was a complete gentleman, surprisingly. I just can't talk about it right now, okay? I'm not ready, Harry." Hermione reassured her best friend, and Harry nodded. He knew that it wasn't his place to pry. Hermione would talk to him about it when she was ready.
Even though Harry had always been the type to boast quite the hero complex, after the war, he had toned it down quite a bit. Now, he much preferred being out of the spotlight, not that he had ever appreciated it in the first place. He also knew when his interference was necessary, and when to back off, which was the current need of the moment.
"Hermione, why don't you head home? It'd probably do you some definite good to rest before such a big day tomorrow." Ginny suggested, having escaped from her mother.
Hermione gave her an appreciative look for the suggestion, and went to say her farewells to the rest of the Weasley family. Arthur and Molly both wished her well, Molly suffocated her in a bone crushing hug, and Arthur gave her a brush of a kiss on her face. Ron. who was still lounging about in the living room with his parents, gave her an awkward smile. When Hermione returned back to the kitchen, she said a few quick goodbyes to the twins and their girlfriends. George hastily stuffed a few Weasley Wizard Wheezes goodies in her hands, which Hermione promptly slipped them into her bag.
Exiting the Burrow's kitchen, Hermione found herself outside, where Harry and Ginny were finicking around with the leftover quidditch supplies. When Harry caught sight of Hermione, he carefully laid down the broom he had been idly polishing, and greeted her. Ginny followed her boyfriend, meeting Hermione midway through the front yard.
"I'll see you at work tomorrow, yeah?" Harry asked her, and Hermione instantly nodded. She planned on grabbing lunch with Harry at the Ministry.
"Keep me updated with everything regarding a certain blonde ferret, okay?" Ginny asked, and Hermione chuckled, before also confirming the young redhead women's request.
"I should have an answer from tomorrow. I love you both." Hermione accepted hugs from the pair, before giving them a final wave. Stepping away from the couple, Hermione distanced herself enough that she could probably Disappariate.
With a quick swish of her vine covered wand, Hermione felt the familiar whoosh as she was transported from the Burrow back to her own flat. When her feet felt the comfortable padding of the rug that decorated her living room's floor, Hermione knew she was safely home. Another confirmation was the soft purring of Crookshanks as he brushed himself against her jean clad legs.
Looking around, Hermione noticed a small pile of mail that decorated the table next to the windowsill of her living room. She had purposely left a window open while she had been at the Weasley's, knowing that her work robes from Madam Malkin's were surely to arrive while she was away. As expected, the brown paper wrapped parcel was neatly placed on the table, along with that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. Hermione had already read Rita Skeeter's article about her new job at the ministry at the Burrow that morning.
Though another, unexpected letter sat next to the package from the dress shop. Looking closer, Hermione noticed the emerald wax seal of the Malfoy crest. She knew immediately it was from the youngest Malfoy, seeing as neither Lucius or Narcissa would need to write to her so urgently. Narcissa had already spoken her piece, and Lucius wanted nothing to do with her if he could avoid it.
Ignoring the package with her new robes, Hermione ripped open Draco's letter. Her coffee colored eyes scanned his elegant script carefully, not wanting to miss a single word. The letter was short and to the point. He wanted to meet for lunch, to discuss the predicament they were both in. Letter in hand, the young witch collapsed onto the coffee armchair that sat in the corner of her living room. Crookshanks automatically jumped in her lap, sensing Hermione's anxiety.
"I don't think I can do it, Crooks." Hermione gently stroked the cat's ginger fur, trying to calm herself. After everything, seeing Malfoy, and for a meal no less, made her heart race at an uncomfortable speed.
The emotional part of her skilled brain screamed to avoid the interaction at all possible costs. Though the logical side of her mind disagreed, wanting to understand the reasons and consequences that the situation held. It was a simple meal, after all. They were going to be in proper public, she assumed. He was probably going to be the gentleman he had been raised to be, so she wasn't scared of any impropriety on Malfoy's part. It was solely her fear talking.
I need to think about this... Hermione's inner voice spoke, and decided that after a nice cup of tea, she would make a decision. To either find out what her future held, or to ignore it completely.