A/N: I apologize for the very late update, but here it is!

HBSJ

Chapter 23

"Are you ready my dear aunt?"

She turned to him, her handsome young nephew standing there in the door waiting for her.

She tried not to smile but failed utterly. "I am, you rascal."

He smirked, that striking trademark Malfoy smirk. "Why am I being labelled a rascal? I am come to escort my dearest of aunts down to drinks."

She gave him a mischievous look. "You are just like your mother my dear." She said fondly. "But you did not knock or announce yourself before entering my rooms."

"Oh, so you have something to hide from me?"

She chortled at that. "I have everything to hide from you my darling. Allow an old lady her secrets." She blinked conspiratorially and he laughed as he led her down to the back patio where the drinks were being served.

When they arrived, she looked out onto the perfectly manicured patio and grounds. Dartmoor really was a gem of an estate and her darling niece had made a beautifully acceptable match with her duke.

As a woman with royal lineage, her niece Narcissa had always been made painfully aware of the expectations before her as a young woman and as a wife. Now, having had the good fortune to fall in love with a man with almost as impeccable an ancestral line as her own, she also had her own freedom in a way.

As a princess of the realm and a recipient of apanage from the government, Lucretia had obligations towards the British public and to do good for them and as such, her schedule had been full from the very day she had turned eighteen.

But Narcissa could chose when she would enter the public eye. She could choose which charities to support and how large a role in supporting them she wanted to have.

Lucretia cast an eye over the rest of the party, most of them young and entitled. They were all just oozing privilege and wealth. It was the way they comported themselves, the way they dressed and interacted with each other. The same way she had been acting when she was in her twenties. What was now acceptable had been considered utterly objectionable in her youth, and what a shame that was.

Beside her, she noticed her darling nephew stiffening and an almost dreamy expression stole over his features.

She followed his line of sight to the intriguing miss Granger. She was looking quite lovely, if rather scantily dressed in her personal opinion. However, her friend, the red haired one, had chosen something truly shocking. That dress really was only a slip of cloth with no lining at all. She couldn't even see what was holding the dress together. It looked like nothing more than strings. The scandal.

But her nephew was purposefully gazing at miss Granger. "My dear nephew. I see that your infatuation grows ever stronger for her."

He seemed to struggle slightly and tore himself away from the young woman to look at her. "My dearest of aunts, you seem to see right through me."

She chuckled. "I flatter myself I do, but then why do you not rush to her side?"

He hesitated. "Perhaps I should then."

She wanted to push him in her direction but an action as crass as that could not be done. A little nudge was suitable however. "Go on then. Go to her."

Her darling nephew needed no more words of encouragement and off he went. She sighed, a love like that, across ranks were not rare any longer. In this day and age, there was hardly any distinction of rank left. And that just might be a good thing.

Lucretia stood there, leaning on her trusted cane and surveyed the young people assembled on the patio. The young Potter boy stood there and there was something in his expression. He was listening with what appeared to be avid attention, to something that the scantily clad red haired girl was talking of.

But she knew that expression well.

In fact, she recognized that expression from somewhere.

Now, if only she could remember from where.

His mouth went dry.

She looked like a vision in a draped pale turquoise satin dress that somehow flowed around her body yet managed to accentuate her every curve at the same time.

This felt like absolute torture.

His aunt sent him on his way with a slight nudge and he almost faltered. But by then she'd already seen him and blushed something fiercely.

It was utterly enticing.

Something felt different tonight. Their normal days had such a routine by now that, despite his complete infatuation with her, training was conducted in a mostly professional manner.

But it was in the air, he could almost taste it.

He kept his eyes locked on hers and walked over to where he wanted to be most.

His single-minded focus on her ensured that he noticed the exact moment her breath caught, the exact moment her breathing sped up and the exact moment she almost smiled. As if she wanted him, but she held herself back.

That would not do.

He smiled as he approached. "Hi Granger."

She rolled her eyes and clamped her lips together. But she didn't reply.

He couldn't not say it. "You look breath taking tonight."

She smiled and seemed surprised. "Thank you. You look very handsome too."

He chuckled and saw her shudder very slightly. If he hadn't been watching her like a hawk, he wouldn't have noticed it. She liked his chuckle. What a revelation.

But she seemed stiff around him. As stiff as they had at their training sessions for the past week. He had no idea what he had done to cause this but he was through with interruptions and distractions.

He wanted her in more ways than one and he was fairly certain that she wanted him.

Now he only had to make it happen.

He turned up the charm a nudge and when Blaise came over, he made sure to flatter her, make her laugh and keep her entertained. He wanted to show her that he wasn't always a surly entitled arse as he had been that one week.

He couldn't do that in just one night but he could damn well begin making amends.

Why was he so charming?

Who the hell had died and made him Prince Charming all of a sudden.

There he was, standing right in front of her and looking more delicious than one of her mum's desserts and she should not be feeling this way.

He didn't like her. She knew this as fact. So why had he sought her out specifically?

The one time he had left her company, he had seemed to do so involuntarily and considering what she heard in her ill-advised walk around the secret hallways of the manor, he should've been thrilled to leave her company.

Was he just making fun with her or had she maybe misunderstood something in that exchange he'd had with his father, an exchange she shouldn't have overheard.

The evening was almost entirely formal, except for the seating arrangements. Besides Lucius being seated with the Princess Royal and Narcissa with Sirius, the rest of them were free to choose their partners.

And when the dinner gong sounded, Draco extended his arm to her and said with an utterly enticing smile, "Would you do me the honour miss Granger?"

She couldn't help the blush stealing over her cheeks and she just nodded, trying to control her reaction. This man made her feel all of the extremes on the emotional spectrum.

Hate, anger, fury, happiness, excitement, amazement and even love.

She looked up at him as they walked to the dining room.

Did she love him?

Perhaps.

Will had questioned her about that exact thing just the night before. After Will had been out on his walk with Astoria, they had retreated to the Dowager House sitting room together.

They made the most of their evening together and it was just what she'd needed. She'd needed to feel like herself again.

When talking to Will about her social media trolls and the troubles with Tom Riddle, her brother had merely scoffed. "Why didn't you just send all of the gifts back then?"

She groaned. "I should have, shouldn't I?" He nodded and she groaned again, louder this time. "I wasn't thinking clearly. But I will, especially that wretched bracelet." She hesitated. "If I can find it again."

He chuckled. "You're getting so emotional staying here. It's almost refreshing if it wasn't so unnerving. Is Draco Malfoy the cause of all of your tumultuous feelings?"

She took a deep breath, wanting to be honest with both herself and her brother.

So she nodded. "He is, yes."

And it was true, he was the very root of everything here at Dartmoor for her. Her happiest times and her worst times. Excepting perhaps her spat with Ginny.

She had tried to turn the table on him and ask him about his love life but as usual, he expertly sidestepped her inquiries by talking about the latest company he had been asked to consult on. As she listened to him, she realized that he wasn't ready to talk about Astoria yet and that it didn't really matter to her, she just wanted him to be happy. She needed to talk to Daphne about it. They had to make a plan.

"Would you like white wine or rosé with your fish miss Granger?"

One of the footmen jerked her out of her memory from the night before. "Rosé please."

The footman poured and she thanked him, only to find Draco watching her intently. "Where did you just go off to?" He led her to their chairs and helped her to sit.

She blushed, she was definitely not going to tell him about her conversation with Will so she changed the subject. "Nothing really, I was just looking forward to a spectacular evening tonight."

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally but he seemed to make a conscious effort not to comment. "I'm sure it will. My mother never does anything half way."

She almost snorted. "Neither does my mum." He smiled as he held out the chair for her and helped her to her seat.

"We are not so very different, are we?" He grinned at her and she adored that expression on him. It transformed his entire demeanour. He often seemed quite severe but when he smiled that smile, she practically melted.

She laughed, "No, it would seem that we are not."

For the first time she took in the rest of them around the table. Her, Will and Harry seemed hopelessly out of place around these people. The princess was seated with the duke at one end of the table and Sirius with the duchess at the other. She was sitting with Draco, Harry with Pansy, Will with Astoria, Blaise with Daphne who had flat out refused to sit with Theo due to their most recent spat, and then finally Theo with Ginny.

They all seemed to have a marvellous time and throughout the first course, the conversation was flowing and ebbing nicely. It almost managed to lull Hermione into a lovely sense of contentment.

Almost.

"Miss Granger."

She looked up to find the piercing gaze of the Duchess of Devon trained directly on her as they were waiting for the second course. She tamped down the urge to shift in her seat.

She affixed a bright smile to her face. Harry was clearly trying not to laugh so she must've looked almost deranged. She tamped it down slightly and hoped it looked somewhat natural.

"Yes, your grace?"

At this, Draco took her hand in his and began caressing it gently.

It was lovely. And distracting.

"I dare say that it is refreshing to Draco and his friends that you and miss Weasley has arrived. Do you find yourself content here at Dartmoor?" Her countenance was completely unreadable, only showing polite interest and Hermione found herself suitably intimidated.

She nodded. "I do, it is indeed a most lovely estate. I could not imagine a better place to learn the noble sport of polo."

Draco kept on caressing her hand. She tried to focus but it was difficult. And she didn't want to remove her hand from his, stupid as that might be.

"Thank you miss Granger, that is very kind of you."

The Princess Royal inserted herself into the conversation, no matter the societal conventions on conversing across the entire table. "Who could not adore Dartmoor, it is a gem among the estates of this great nation."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet and smiled politely.

A long conversation ensued about various estates around the country and Hermione chose not to take part in it as she had visited a limited number of the places that were mentioned.

Draco leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You might get cross-examined in a moment, just so you know."

Her eyes widened in alarm and she stared at him in shock at the exact same moment where his mother's attention returned.

"Miss Granger, are you classically trained?"

She swallowed convulsively and tried to buy some time to consider her reply. "In what respect, your grace?"

"Do you play the pianoforte?"

Hermione almost scoffed but managed to stop herself just in time because this question she knew exactly how to answer. "No I don't, unfortunately musical instruments and I are not of a friendly disposition. I do enjoy them played by people who are not me."

Will seemed to stifle his laughter across the table and Hermione remained entirely composed, which even surprised herself. It was a running joke in their family that no matter the amount of hours of practice, she would inevitably end up butchering every piece of music.

The Duchess just moved her head slightly, indicating no reaction whatsoever. "I see, and have you leaned to manage a house of a certain size?"

She nodded. "I have but it never interested me much. I prefer to read or ride. But I did go through the rigours of ladylike-ness."

The Duchess just peered at her, as if trying to see into her soul and it was unnerving how Hermione felt as if she was succeeding. "You have not been brought up like us, have you miss Granger?"

What a strange question, of course she hadn't. So she smiled. "No, I haven't. I've gone to local schools all my life until Uni and I quite detest most social gatherings for the sake of securing a spouse."

She cocked her head and looked at her with an inscrutable expression. "So why do you attend any of the social gatherings?"

Hermione smiled. "Because I made a deal with my mum. She tricked me."

The Duchess' lips quirked slightly. "I should like to meet your mother. I have the sense that you are not easily tricked."

The conversation ebbed and flowed after that and Hermione felt as if she had just been put through some sort of test, and she had no idea how she had done.

"You want me to do what, precisely?"

Narcissa was looking at her aunt as if she'd lost her marbles. A likely possibility as the princess in question was close to a century old.

They were in the sitting room, enjoying the after dinner drinks and she was having a lovely time. And now, out of the blue, her aunt wanted to see an old portrait from at least fifty years ago.

Aunt Lucretia tutted at her. "The old portrait of Dorea in the gallery, from her coming out. You remember the one. It was moved here along with some of the other Black family protraits after your marriage. There are, after all, limits to how many portraits that can fit on the walls, despite the palatial size of the royal estates. We need to see it and I cannot possibly climb all of those staircases, so why don't you have a couple of footmen bring it down?"

Again, Narcissa was baffled. "The large, life-sized portrait of Dorea? Right now?"

Aunt Lucretia nodded as emphatically as possible in her age. "Yes now. The boy is here now."

That made no sense whatsoever. She was almost wondering if she should call for a doctor. "Which boy? There are four of them and Draco is here all the time."

Her aunt sighed slightly but honestly, she was making little to no sense. "No, no darling, the Potter boy."

"Oh. What about Harry? He really is a lovely young man."

"Yes, I realise that. But you try my patience dear. I need that portrait. And then it will all be clear. "

Narcissa blinked. The marbles must be all gone now. Utterly and completely gone. But seeing as her aunt was so insistent, she called forward the closest footman and instructed him to his task. And advised him to bring several of the strongest footmen at work. The portrait was not small.

As she sat down, her aunt leaned in. "I realise that it is quite unorthodox dear, but I have a very strong suspicion and I need to see this before we go any further."

"And what it your suspicion?"

"You'll know when you see it."

Aunt Lucretia changed the subject and while they waited, they happily discussed the different benefits of camellias versus hydrangeas in the garden landscape. A subject on which both of them had many opinions.

When the butler came to quietly claim her attention, they had strayed to roses. Because really, what British garden was complete without roses?

She entered the hallway and saw the overlarge portrait covered with white cloths. She took one look at the at the doorway and then portrait carried between six large footmen who all stood there, awaiting her instructions. "Would you be so kind as to place it against the wall here by the door? That way the Princess Royal does not have to walk far to see it. And thank you all for your hard work."

As they placed the ancient frame carefully against the wall, Hobson was letting out a stream of instructions and placing extra cloths here and there to ensure that neither frame nor wall was in any way damaged by the ordeal.

As the men at work went back to their stations, they all beamed at her. Happy to be able to help and she was hopeful that their employees felt well-treated by their small family.

She turned back to the sitting room and went to get her aunt. "My darling aunt, the portrait cannot fit through the door, so you will have to consent to come with me to the hallway."

She waved it away as if it was nothing. "I may be old but this I can rise for."

Getting up from her seat however, was proving a task and both Draco and Sirius rose instantly from where they had been talking with Harry to assist her. Not that they knew anything of the fools errand their aunt had just sent them all on.

It was a slow process to the hallway and by then, Hobson had cleared the portrait of the cloths.

The four of them turned around the corner almost as one and…

She blinked.

She turned to her aunt who was grinning from ear to ear. "You see, I told you all would be clear darling. It is right as rain there."

Sirius looked more serious than she'd ever seen him. "What is this? If it is a joke, I don't think I like it."

Draco was thinking, it was obvious. He was frowning and deep in thought, looking between the portrait and Harry, who was now seemingly arguing quietly with miss Parkinson and completely ignorant of the four Blacks watching him from the hallway.

Narcissa looked from the portrait of Dorea Black to Harry and back again several times.

It couldn't be.

It couldn't.

There was no way it should be possible.

But it was.

The same exact expression.

This boy could not be a nobody.

This orphan boy was, in all likelihood, family.

Dun dun DUN!

I hope you like my little attempt at a cliffy.

Please let me know what you think!

HBSJ