"They're just going to sleep there all day, and then the British werewolves will sleep in New Zealand all day?" Hermione's father questioned over breakfast.
"Yes, exactly," Hermione said, nodding emphatically. "That way, the light of the full moon never touches them, and they never have to transform."
Her father made a face.
"That sounds like cheating," he complained.
"Richard!" her mother admonished sharply, while Hermione giggled.
"I'm just saying!" he defended. "They're still werewolves, and they're not cured."
"Think of it like AZT," her mother suggested. "It doesn't prevent anything, but it certainly helps things from getting worse."
Her father wrinkled his nose. "What's AZT?"
"What's AZT—? Honestly, Richard, we both went to the same seminar. It's the new drug they're giving to children with HIV to stop it from progressing to AIDS." She gave him a pointed look. "They're giving it to children at one of Princess Diana's—"
"That's why I didn't remember," her father said pointedly. He scowled. "Bloody royals and their bloody monarchy, swanning around—"
"She's not royal, she's just—"
"She married into it, that makes her guilty by association—"
There was a sudden knock at the door, catching them all off guard. Hermione and her family all glanced at each other.
"We weren't expecting anyone, were we?" her mother asked, getting to her feet.
"Not that I know of," her father said. He glanced at Hermione, who shook her head, and her mother shrugged and went to get the door.
"Oh! Hello!"
Hermione looked up at her mother's tone of surprise. She couldn't see who was at the door, the door itself blocking off her view, but she certainly recognized the next voice she heard, and her blood ran cold.
"Good morning, Mrs. Granger. My name is Lucius Malfoy, and this is my wife, Narcissa. I believe you've met my son Draco?"
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Jean Granger," Hermione's mother said instinctively. "How can I help you all?"
"We have a proposal for your daughter," Narcissa's voice came. "It's a bit unusual, so we wanted to explain the plan with her entire family so you wouldn't worry."
"Oh!" her mother said. "Please, then, come in. We're just having breakfast, but if you've already eaten, you're welcome to join us for tea."
Hermione watched, incredulous, as Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius Malfoy came into her house – her parents' muggle house – all dressed in traditional wizarding clothing. They came into the entryway, Lucius closing the door behind them, though he paused afterward, examining the wooden doorframe skeptically.
"Was this always a non-magical house?" he asked, turning to the Grangers. He laid a hand on the wood around the door. "There's something here – slight, but present…"
"Oh, that'll be Hermione's protection spell," her mother dismissed, coming back into the dining room with a fresh tea tray. "It protects us from those who would do us harm."
"I beg your pardon," Narcissa said, taking a seat elegantly, "but you say it protects you from those who would do you harm?"
"Yes. It—oh, it's been a while. Richard, do you remember the details? This is my husband, Richard, by the way—"
"It protects the house from those who would do us harm, and it alerts our bloodline," her father said promptly. He frowned. "Though we've never really tested that part." He glanced at Hermione. "Have you ever gotten any 'alarm twinges'?"
"No," Hermione said honestly, as Lucius and Draco took seats at the table.
Her father shrugged. "We put everyone's blood into it, anyway, so hopefully it'll still trigger for us."
It was incredibly surreal, to see Lucius Malfoy at a muggle breakfast table. He was trying to appear perfectly at ease, but he was doing a poor job of it – he twitched violently when the toaster went off, and he didn't seem to trust the electric kettle either, which Narcissa covered up by smoothly serving everyone in her family tea while Hermine's mother was in the kitchen. Draco kept shooting Hermione darting, meaningful looks, but Hermione hadn't the slightest idea what they were supposed to mean.
"I'm sorry, you say you also put your blood into the ward?" Narcissa inquired. "I was under the impression you were muggles."
"Oh! We are, we are," Hermione's father laughed. "But muggles still have blood, you know! Same as anyone else."
"No, of course, I merely meant – your blood isn't magical—"
"So?" her father asked. Her father sounded perfectly at ease, but there was a firm note to his voice, and Hermione suspected with a sinking feeling that her dad might be remembering the details she had spilled about the Malfoy family before in her letters home and her rants against blood purity. "The spell didn't say the blood had to be magical. Hermione did the chanting part and whatnot to make the candles go out, and the door took everyone's blood, so it certainly seemed to accept non-magic blood all the same."
There was a distinct pause as the Malfoys all looked at each other, expressions carefully masked.
"I didn't know muggles could participate in magical rituals despite not being magical themselves," Narcissa said finally. "How interesting."
"We like to take an interest in Hermione's activities," her mother said, sitting back down with a fresh tray of scones. "Now – you say you had a proposal for Hermione?"
At this, Narcissa straightened, nodding. She seemed more comfortable now, back on a topic she knew more about, while Lucius looked like he very much wanted to test each scone for poison.
"As you may be aware, the Quidditch World Cup is being held in England in a little over a week," Narcissa told the Grangers, nodding to them each.
"That the broom sport?" her father asked, glancing at Hermione. Hermione nodded, embarrassed — 'Quidditch' being described as 'the broom sport' in front of Lucius Malfoy...
"It's the first time it's been held in England in decades, and it's certainly not an experience for anyone to miss out on," Narcissa said, smiling slightly. She looked back at Hermione's mother. "We would like to invite your daughter to come with us to the game."
Hermione's jaw dropped.
"Really?" she said, astonished, looking at Draco. "That's—tickets are—"
Draco grinned at her, his face lighting up.
"It'll be brilliant," he said, pleased. "We've got Top Box seats, too. And anyway, I owe you one for your help with Seeker tryouts, don't I?"
Hermione shook her head, amazed, while Draco grinned.
"That sounds incredibly generous of you," her father said. "I'm sure she'd love to go."
"There's a bit more, I'm afraid." Narcissa paused. "How familiar are you with Quidditch?"
Hermione's parents glanced at each other.
"Hermione explained it to us once," her father said finally. "It's like flying football with giant rocks that try to knock people off, and there's a special golden ball with nothing to do with the others."
"Dad!" Hermione was mortified.
"Yes, well." Narcissa looked like she was trying not to laugh. "Games of Quidditch don't end until that little golden ball is caught. They've been known to go on for days."
"Heavens!" her mother exclaimed. "That certainly doesn't sound safe, flying around with sleep deprivation of that level."
"They bring on substitutes, if that happens," Draco offered helpfully.
"You'd think they'd just institute a timer," her father said, shaking his head. "Forget the little golden ball."
"Regardless, part of preparing for a Quidditch game is planning for any eventuality," Narcissa said firmly, moving the conversation on. "Most people will have tents on site to sleep in during the game, if necessary, as well as after it's over."
Draco's face pinkened, and Hermione began to understand why his parents may have thought it necessary to come over and explain all this to her parents.
"So you inviting Hermione means she would stay with you in your tent if the game goes on for a while," her mother said knowingly. Narcissa nodded, pleased.
"Precisely," she said. "I wanted to assure you that either my husband or I will be present at all times in the tent as chaperone, and that there is a witches' area of the tent, separate from the wizards' area. I would sleep in this area with your daughter, should the game run late, while my husband will sleep in the wizards' area with our son, Draco."
Hermione's parents glanced at each other. To Hermione's relief, neither of them seemed particularly phased by this information.
"That sounds agreeable," her mother said, nodding. "Thank you for taking the time to explain it to us."
Draco let out a huge breath of air in relief. Lucius shot him a sharp look, and Draco immediately sat up straight again, wincing.
"It is my pleasure," Narcissa assured them. "My son enjoys your daughter's company very much, and we'd be delighted to take her along with for this special occasion."
Draco's face flushed again, looking down at the floor, and Hermione fought her own losing battle with the pink on her cheeks.
"You say this is in a week?" her father asked.
"Just over a week," Lucius confirmed, chiming in for the first time. "The Monday evening, the day after the full moon."
Her mother looked to Hermione.
"Are you intending on helping with the wards that night?" she asked. "Are you going to be able to go out again the next evening?"
"I hadn't decided," Hermione said honestly. "Even if I did, I could always spin back and still get my sleep."
"Fair point," her mother said. Her eyes flickered to Draco and back to Hermione, who shook her head ever so slightly. Her mother nodded slightly and turned back to Narcissa. "In that case, Hermione has our full permission to go with you," she said, smiling. "You're very kind to take her along."
Narcissa laughed charmingly, her laugh like tinkling bells.
"Yes, well, it's all Draco has been talking about for the past day," she said, her tone slightly rueful. "Ever since he found out she didn't have tickets yet, he's been incessant."
The two mothers laughed together, and Hermione shot Draco a look, who reddened further.
"Tracey was on your case about it yesterday," he muttered. "When I came to find you at the ribbon cutting."
"This will be a magical area, right?" her father asked. "So Hermione can take her wand to protect herself if anything should happen?"
"Strictly speaking, it's not," Narcissa said, a slight scowl darkening her face. "It's just a large campsite the Ministry has rented out and built a stadium on. We're encouraged to do everything the muggle way to not draw attention to ourselves."
"That being said," Lucius said, his voice hard, "I would never encourage a young witch or wizard to go anywhere without a wand."
Lucius' eyes seemed fierce, as if ready to pick a fight with her father, but Hermione's father merely shrugged, looking at her.
"Do everything the muggle way, eh?" he said. He started to grin. "Maybe your Explorer's Pack will come in handy."
"Adventurer's Kit," Hermione corrected immediately, and he laughed.
"Tomato, to-mah-to," he said. "At least you'll have a head start on camping the muggle way."
"I'm sure Hermione's expertise with such matters will undoubtedly come in handy," Narcissa said, smiling faintly. She nodded to both Hermione's parents as she stood. "Thank you so much for having us in on such short notice."
"Yes," Lucius said, standing immediately.
"Did you drive here?" Hermione's mother asked.
"Did we…?" Narcissa looked lost, and Hermione intervened.
"I'm guessing you Apparated?" Hermione asked Narcissa, who nodded, relieved. "The Floo powder is on the mantle over the fireplace, if you'd rather return that way."
Her father looked at her. "Is there a benefit to that? Over the magic teleporting?"
"Apparition can use up a lot of magical energy," Hermione explained to her father, incredibly self-conscious under the Malfoys' watchful eyes. "Also, Draco's not old enough to Apparate yet, so one of them would have to Side-Along Apparate with him, which is difficult and can be dangerous." She shrugged. "The Floo is much more straightforward and simpler. But it's rude to Floo someone's home for the first time without being invited."
"Oh," her father frowned. "Draco's your age, though, isn't he?"
"Yes…?" Hermione wasn't following. "You can't get an Apparition license until you come of age at 17."
"So are you just doing it illegally, then?" her father asked Hermione point-blank. Hermione's eyes went wide.
"I've never Apparated myself anywhere in my life," she protested. "I wouldn't. My core's not done growing, and I could splinch myself—"
"Don't lie to us," her father said, eyes hardening. "Your mother and I have seen you in the back garden, practicing."
Hermione winced, and the Malfoys looked incredibly interested in this sudden development.
"Oh, no, no! I've—I've been practicing something else, but it's not Apparating," Hermione promised them. "Apparating myself at this age is dangerous. I've been exploring a different way of magical travel that might be a way around that."
"Are you sure it's worth it, dear?" Hermione's mother looked concerned. "It's just—we've seen you come back crying, practically vomiting on the grass—"
Hermione's face flooded red in mortification.
"I'm fine, it's fine, it's just part of practicing," Hermione said, waving their concern off and desperately trying to change the subject. "It's—It's not easy, which is why I was practicing. I'll still Floo most places, Mum, don't worry."
The Malfoys' eyes were gleaming, though Draco's were filled with anxiety and worry. Narcissa, seeing the conversation was not going to continue, stepped forward slightly and nodded.
"We will avail ourselves of your Floo, then, thank you. Otherwise, we will see you Monday morning when we come to pick her up." She offered Hermione's mother a smile. "Thank you again for seeing us on such short notice, as well as trusting us with your daughter."
Her father snorted. "Hermione can take care of herself."
Her mother shot her father a sharp look.
"It was our pleasure," her mother assured her. "Hermione, why don't you see our guests out?"
Hermione was out of her chair in a moment, escorting the Malfoys to the living room fireplace. She could see Lucius examining all the non-moving pictures on the walls as they went, eyes sharp and judging. Anxiously, Hermione lit the fireplace with a thought as she reached for the bowl with Floo powder, offering it to the Malfoys.
"Wandless and wordless," Narcissa murmured, taking a handful. She looked at Hermione evaluating. "And so young, too."
Hermione winced. She'd been so unsettled with the Malfoys at her back that she'd instinctively pushed a bit of magic through her fire elemental.
"New Blood," she said, offering a strained smile. "Some of it comes easier to me than to others."
"Indeed," Narcissa murmured. She tossed the powder into the flames and announced, "Malfoy Manor!" loudly as she strode into the fireplace, vanishing in a whoosh of green flame. That left Lucius and Draco standing nearby, one looking around with sharp eyes, the other one cowering a bit anxiously.
"I have never heard of doing magic with muggles," Lucius told Hermione, finally deigning to dignify her with a glance.
"With all due respect, you don't often do anything with muggles, I'd imagine," Hermione said simply. "If you don't keep company with muggles, why would it ever occur to you to try?"
Lucius looked slightly suspicious at this. Draco winced.
"Come on, father," he implored. "Let's just go home, yeah?"
"I was unaware there was anything worth doing with muggles," Lucius said, his voice soft and sharp.
"There's much you're unaware of, I'd imagine," Hermione retorted, glaring at him. "You should go see a modern history museum sometime – see what the muggles have been up to since the Statute of Secrecy. It hasn't been wallowing in filth."
Lucius sniffed, disgusted. "Please."
"Mum's going to want to know what took us so long," Draco pleaded. "Come on."
Lucius shot his son a sharp look of exasperation before roughly grabbing a handful of Floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace. He barked, "Malfoy Manor!" and vanished through the fireplace a moment later, and Draco gave Hermione a strained smile as he took a handful as well.
"I'll talk to you more about everything tomorrow, yeah?" he said. "I can get to the covenhouse early?"
"Harry will be there, but sure," Hermione agreed, blinking. "Is everything alright?"
"I think so, but I feel like with my father, I never quite know," Draco admitted with a sigh. "Anyway – see you tomorrow. Malfoy Manor!"
After the fire died down and Hermione had replaced the Floo powder on the mantle, she returned to the dining room to rejoin her parents, only to stop in the doorway, surprised. Both her parents were laughing so hard there were tears in their eyes. Hermione looked at both of them, astonished and entirely lost for context.
"And did you see him jump?" her father said, laughing harder. "You'd think someone had been shot!"
"He looked at tea kettle like it was alien technology!" Her mother was laughing. "Narcissa was doing her best with it, but she was pressing all the buttons discreetly to see what they would do."
Hermione started snickering, and her parents turned to look at her, offering apologetic smiles.
"Sorry – we don't mean to mock them," her mother said. "It's just—I've never seen someone so alarmed by a photograph on the wall—"
"No, it's okay," Hermione assured them, grinning. "Mock them all you like. They deserve it."
"Imagine," her father said, chuckling. "Going your entire adult life without knowing what driving is." He shook his head in astonishment, still laughing. "And then reacting so violently to toast."