Please consider it. If you decide against it, I don't think I'll be able to stop every Weasley you can stand to see from barging into Malfoy Manor.
Also, you shouldn't be alone at Christmas.
With love,
Neville
The words were both nettle and balm as Hermione finished reading the missive. She folded it back up and set it with the other read correspondence; it was mostly from him, though she had hesitantly begun opening letters from others- Michael, Bill Weasley, and (a surprisingly pleasant pen pal) Blaise Zabini. Nearly- no, every Weasley had sent a letter by now, but she had chosen Bill's as he was both distant and familiar. She hadn't known him at school, but had spent time with him during the time before his wedding and the brief respite at Shell Cottage. Charlie's letter puzzled her and she had concluded it was probably a plea on behalf of his youngest brother, so it stayed in the pile of her inbox.
Christmas.
Outside her window was a sea of glimmering whiteness, fluttering clumps of snowflakes swirling toward through the crisp winter air. On a day like this she would have been in the common room with the boys, or wandering around Hogsmeade amid the overly excited students.
Or not, since she would have graduated in a normal world.
Hermione submerged thoughts of the future she had imagined for herself, rising to slippered feet and padding through the manor to Lucius' study. That was where he spent much of his time, often buried in paperwork that Draco had sent. He glanced up as she took her favored seat, lips curving gently.
"Apparently it is nearly Christmas."
"Yes," came a reply as dry as the parchment he perused. "That happens toward the end of the year, so I hear."
She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "So, then, I don't know how you spend the holiday…" This was somehow more awkward than the conversations they had surrounding sex. He turned and slipped his reading glasses onto the desk. "I have been invited to the Burrow, but I will not go." One brow rose expectantly, so she continued. "I'm not ready to see Ronald, but I do miss the Weasleys. They're something of a surrogate family. And they've already lost so many people. And, well…" Hermione was rambling, the words falling from her lips like water in a brook.
"Get to the point, girl."
"Could- that is, I was thinking." She took a breath to fan the flame of her bravery. "Could some of my friends come here for a while to celebrate the holiday? Just- just for a few hours, and we'd keep away from your study, of course. If there's a place where you might prefer-"
His word made her flinch not because it was harsh, but because she expected it to be. "Fine."
She blinked up at him with owl-bright eyes. "I- really?"
"Really. Christmas Eve or Christmas day, whichever. I will write Draco and see if he intends to visit." That was bitter on his tongue, but it had to be done if he hoped to see his son. "Just inform me of your choice and I will give the orders to the elves."
Hermione lunged at the man, her arms around his neck in warm embrace. "Thank you, Lucius!" She was smiling as she backed away, her cheeks flushed. That he would allow anyone bearing the name Weasley into his home at all was enough of a gift to her; she had prepared for him to say no, was going to offer alternatives, but this was more than she could hope for.
"Yes, well." Lucius straightened himself. "Go make your plans, then." The girl would be the death of him.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione." The slim man wrapped her in his arms, one hand stroking curls that felt softer than he remembered.
"Happy Christmas, Mr. Weasley," she murmured as he reluctantly allowed her to pull back.
It had gotten easier since she'd arrived at Malfoy Manor, but she would still shy at touch. However, this was a holiday, and she had missed familial warmth.
Ginny was next, then George, then, surprisingly, Charlie. Percy nodded stiffly and Bill gave her shoulder a squeeze.
"I have been drowning in, what did you call it?- testosterone poisoning," Ginny confided, head rolling toward her after the greetings were exchanged. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."
She nodded as though in understanding, but Hermione was so far transported from that reality now she worried it came across as artificial."
"Is anyone else coming? I know Nev's been writing."
"Er, yes. He will be here soon. I've also invited Michael Corner, Blaise Zabini, and, erm, Professor Snape." She wrung her hands at the last name. "Though specifically to spend time with Lucius in his study if he so chooses, since I doubt he'd want to be around me."
The warm brown of Ginny's eyes widened, blinked, nodded. "Right, then. Lead the way!"
The elves had decorated a lovely sitting room for the occasion, red and gold shimmering on a little green and silver tree, a cheery fireplace crackling beneath the ribbon-bedecked mantle. There was even a little stack of presents thanks to Hermione knitting nearly nonstop. Biscuits, candies, tea, and cocoa were all available as well. The Weasleys settled around her as she took a seat in an armchair she'd claimed for reading when in the room.
"We've missed you," Ginny reiterated, the others echoing her sentiment.
"Yeah, I keep waiting for someone to correct me every time I say something stupid-"
"-which is a lot," Ginny added to the twin's statement.
A smile tugged her lips. "I just haven't been very social," she murmured, forcing her gaze from her laps and her sweating hands.
"You don't owe anyone an explanation, Hermione." Bill's gaze was solemn through his scars. "Not us, not anyone."
She didn't know what to say to that, but luckily for her Ginny took charge at that moment and started playing music and beginning holiday festivities.
Neville arrived shortly after, and sometime in the evening an unexpected pair sauntered into the room of Gryffindors.
"Here's a sight! Hello, beautiful, thanks for the invite." Blaise engulfed her, planting a kiss on her cheek that was startling as much as it was oddly nonthreatening.
Behind him a paler, slimmer man hovered near the door. "Is this really the manor? Or have I entered some bizarre alternate reality?"
Hermione warmed from her throat to her ears. "Hullo, Blaise, Draco."
"Granger," Draco responded with a nod. "Weasleys."
"Come sit with us." Bill gestured to the seats available. "I promise most of us are friendlier than we look."
"Just don't let Bill bite you," quipped George. "His bark is not worse, whatever he says." The eldest Weasley snapped his teeth in his brother's direction, triggering a faux jump and shriek from George.
Draco settled near Hermione, reluctance written into the lines of his shoulders.
"Nevermind them," she said, smiling wryly. "Except Percy, Weasleys are practically made for mischief. How are you? How is your mother?"
Her cheeks brightened again, realizing how strange it was to inquire after the woman whose husband she was currently intimate with, whatever the extenuating circumstances.
Silver eyes tugged from the redheaded brood. "She's well. Getting the Black affairs in order; they've been a mess since, well, cousin Regulus's death. And I… there's a lot to do. And yourself?"
"Well enough," she concluded after a pause, considering the weight his words carried in regard to his own situation.,
"You're getting along well with father." It could have been a question, but Hermione didn't hear it that way. And there was a strange hint in his gaze. He visited, though Hermione rarely caught a glimpse of him and she knew it was far less often than Lucius would have liked. What exactly did he know?
Cheeks growing hotter, Hermione shrugged. "Better than expected, yes."
Draco hummed, lids lowering to darken his eyes. "He still doesn't like muggleborns , you know."
"I know." The words were coarse from her tightened throat.
"It would probably be best if-"
"Hermione, did I tell you what my gran said before I left?" Neville had left his conversation with Mr. Weasley, staring down at her with pink cheeks and bright eyes.
"No, what did she say, Neville?"
Whatever Draco Malfoy thought would be better remained unsaid.
"I'm being serious here!" Charlie's baritone was affronted. "There is evidence that certain breeds of dragons now extinct may have been capable of speech."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anecdotes written in ancient texts hardly count as reputable sources. Back me up on this, would you, Bill?"
The older man held both palms outward. "I am not getting involved in this."
"There is no fossil evidence showing an indication that dragons have ever had larynxes that-"
"It's called magic ," the magizoologist drawled. "It doesn't necessarily mean they spoke with their throats. "
"That's what speech is," she countered.
This caused him to frown. "No, what about sign languages?"
"Well, yes, but that still implies language, which we have no evidence of dragons ever using."
His eyes twinkled. "We don't have evidence they couldn't."
"Say, Hermione," Bill began, the lilt of his voice convincing her it would be a chance in topic. She turned her umber gaze toward him. "Has Lucius Malfoy ever done anything inappropriate in front of you?"
Charlie stiffened, calloused hands rubbing at his thighs.
"Inappropriate?"
"He has a certain reputation," the burlier Weasley said.
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm perfectly aware of his history, thank you."
"Not like that." Bill sighed and the two men exchanged a glance weighted with something akin to concern and thoughtfulness. "It's… you see, he has… That's. Fuck. Charlie, help me out, mate."
Charlie nodded. "We're worried he's been exposing you to his preferences. Sexual preferences."
Her cheeks flushed as she heated down her neck. "He hasn't been bringing in strangers," she murmured carefully after a second of consideration. "It's mostly him and I here, sometimes Professor Snape."
"Has he tried pressuring you into anything?" Bill's blue eyes shone as he studied her features and Hermione worried what she might give away without realizing.
Indignation built like froth as waves of thought barreled through her mind. She was an adult, capable of making decisions. More than capable of saying no to something she didn't want. "What exactly are you getting at?" she bit out. "You're worried Lucius is tying me up? Taking advantage of me?" She looked between the two men who shifted sheepishly.
"He's known for being a bit of a sadist," Charlie admitted. "Can you blame us for being concerned? You're a young woman here alone with him-"
"A muggleborn," she reminded him.
His lips pursed. "Well, yes. But I don't think that'd deter him." He breathed deeply through his nose. "Hermione, you're an exceptional witch; you're intelligent, pretty, strong. People like Lucius Malfoy wouldn't hesitate to take advantage. If anything his belief that he's better than you would just add to the experience. Can you blame us for being concerned?"
"We at least waited until it was just the three of us to ask," Bill added.
"Besides, Snape has been reticent with news. So has Neville, actually."
She smoothed her fingers over her robes. "Lucius Malfoy has done nothing to me I have not gladly allowed." Her eyes were glued to her hands in her lap as she said the words. "Is that enough for you?" She lifted her gaze through molasses to flit between them.
The pair looked less than pleased with the response, both opening their mouths to say something at one point, before thinking better of it and clamping their jaws shut. Bill's fists had balled beside his thighs.
"Do you-" his voice was low and gravelly. "Do you have a safe word?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes. And I won't hesitate to use it."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Fine."
Charlie squeezed one of his brother's hands. "You'll tell us if anything changes? If he harms you?"
She nodded again. "Alright."
The dragonologist leaned back. "Alright. Then we'll take your word for it."
Notes:
So more health stuff has been going on, as well as some family stuff (not all of it bad). I'm also fighting with the VA about disability, so lots of appointments and stress. But hey, a chapter!
I try to post about updates, life, etc, on Twitter. Feel free to follow there. I'm going to be asking questions regarding a few kinktober stories. So yeah.
