As soon as she skidded to a stop, Hermione immediately peered around to see where she was. All she could see was Malfoy and some sort of waiter who was brushing off Malfoy's robes. "So good to see you again, Mr. Malfoy," she heard him say and Malfoy grunted a response.

He glanced over at her. "Close your mouth," he hissed at her. "You look ridiculous."

Hermione reddened and closed her mouth quickly. The maitre-de came over to her and began brushing off her robes as well. "You must be Mrs. Malfoy," he said, bowing slightly. "How very nice to meet you."

Hermione was embarrassed by the man fawning over her and began to brush off her own robes while looking around. They were in a room which seemed to consist of just the fireplace and 4 large plushy beige chairs. The walls were a dark wood colour and there was a door at one end.

"I was just telling Mr. Malfoy very good idea that you flooed in. There is quite a lot of press outside tonight. Someone must have leaked word of your arrival."

"Why on earth would anyone care?" Hermione asked. The man just stared at her.

"Because, Hermione, they are interested in our marriage. They want to see us together, see if we've killed each other yet," Malfoy answered. "Are you quite done? I'd like to eat now."

"Of course," Hermione followed the waiter to the door which he opened for her. She stepped inside the interior of the restaurant. It was an expansive place with the air of intimacy despite it's size. There was a string quartet playing in a corner beside a piano which was vacent. Small tables littered in area which boasted a huge stone fireplace in the middle. Candlelight illuminated the tables softly and at the end of at the dining room was a waterfall tinkling.

"It's gorgeous," Hermione breathed.

"Glad you like it. Can you move forward now?" Malfoy's breath was hot on her neck and she jumped forward.

"This way, Mrs. Malfoy," the waiter said. Malfoy grabbed her arm as they made their way into the dining room.

People began to turn towards them as they entered. Hermione watched as Malfoy transformed before her eyes. His sour face softened and he smiled a nice smile at the first couple they encountered.

"Hello, Niles, Martine. This is my wife, Hermione. Hermione, this is Niles Bransworth and his wife Martine."

"Hello," Hermione said, smiling.

Niles had stood and kissed her hand. "Pleasure to meet you," he said. His wife smiled and murmured hello as well.

Malfoy held her elbow and steered her forward, pausing to stop at three more tables until they got to their own. It was near the waterfall, to Hermione's delight. The waiter pulled out her chair for her as Malfoy sat across from her.

"Is there anyone that you don't know?" Hermione asked as she picked up her napkin.

Malfoy just rolled his eyes at her, his face resuming it's normal condescending look.

Hermione picked up the menu and glanced at it before looking over at Malfoy. "It's in French," she whispered.

"I know it is, you don't speak French?" Malfoy asked her. "What do Muggles teach their children exactly?"

"I learned Latin," Hermione snapped back. "Will you please tell me what it says?"

Before Malfoy could answer, Neville and Millicent Bulstrode appeared at their table.

"Hello, Milly," Malfoy smiled at her. "Is this your new husband?"

"Yes," Millicent said abruptly. "You both know Neville?"

"Hello Neville," Hermione smiled at her fellow Gryffindor. "Hello, Millicent. Did you have a good evening?"

"Yes, thank you," Millicent said, seeming surprised that Hermione had spoken to her.

"Hello Hermione, Malfoy." Neville looked nervous but smiled.

"Longbottom," Malfoy nodded at him. "We'll be having a dinner party next week, my birthday, you see. I trust that you'll be attending."

"Of course," Millicent said. "Just owl us the date." She grabbed Neville's arm. "Come, Neville."

"Goodbye Hermione," Neville said in a strangled voice as Millicent pulled him away.

As soon as they were out of earshot Malfoy laughed. "What an odd couple."

"We're having a dinner party?" Hermione asked.

"Of course. What did you expect me to do on my birthday? Spend it alone at home with you?" Malfoy drawled, putting down his menu. "I have a dinner party every year. Usually Mother plans it, this year it's your job."

"I don't know what to do!" Hermione gaped at him.

"Mother will help you," Malfoy told her. "She'll be arriving next Sunday to spend the week."

"What?" Hermione stood up, flustered. "I need to go to the loo."

A waiter appeared at her side. "I'll show you where it is, Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione grimaced at the name, she was sick of hearing it, and nodded. Reaching the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and took a deep breath. "I can do this," she whispered to herself. Patting her face dry, she returned to the table.

"Done with your breakdown?" Malfoy smirked at her. "I ordered for you, by the way."

"Will it be edible?" she muttered, sitting down.

"Of course. I don't want you sick, what good would you be then?" Malfoy continued to smirk at her.

"Can you at least pretend to be civil?" Hermione snapped at him. "This is a beautiful restaurant and you're ruining it!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "I wouldn't want to do that." He leaned forward in his chair. "Fine. What would you like to talk about?"

"Well, I don't know." She blushed as his grin widened. "What exactly do you do at work?"

"Why do you care?" he said, lightly.

Hermione changed the subject. "Why did your mother move to Italy?"

"Why not?" He continued to smile at her, amused.

"You making this hard on purpose," she hissed.

"I am not. Stop asking stupid questions, it's beneath you." The look on his face never changed, Hermione realised it was for the benefit of the people descretely watching them.

"Why bother to work at all? You have enough money just to laze around."

"I like to be busy," Malfoy answered. "Besides, it would look bad if I did nothing all day. I also am on the board of quite a few charities. You might want to get to know which ones, as you'll be going in my stead."

"What? Why?"

"That's what society wives do, Hermione. Play hostess and attend and plan charity events. You'll be meeting other wives at my birthday. They'll help you with what you'll need to do."

"What other wives? Slytherins?" Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Mostly. Blaise Zabini married Mandy Brocklehurst. I believe she was in Ravenclaw. She would be the best person to talk to. You should owl her as soon as you can."

"Why am I the one that seems to be doing all the work in this marriage?" Hermione complained. "What do you have to do?"

"Make sure that you do everything right, of course." Before Hermione could say anything, the food arrived.