A/N: The World Cup events encompass the next four chapters. If you prefer, come back to read them all together at 457.
The full moon passed without incident, and there were no alarming headlines in the Daily Prophet the next day. Hermione figured with all the enhanced scrutiny and security, Greyback had decided to lay low that month, which was probably wise.
Hermione packed a bag with a couple changes of clothes, pajamas, and other necessities, and she was waiting for the Malfoys when they arrived via the Floo to pick her up. Again, they were wearing muggle clothing – but this time, Lucius Malfoy was in a very formal suit, Draco dressed to match, with Narcissa in an evening gown. Hermione stared at them.
"I don't mean to be rude," she said finally, looking to Draco. "But isn't this supposed to be an outdoor event?"
Draco blinked. "Yes…?"
"We will be in the Top Box with the Minister and other important guests," Lucius said severely. "It is important to clothe ourselves appropriately, while still following the standards for muggle attire set by the Ministry."
"Well, yes," Hermione said. "But—"
"Hermione, are the Malfoys here? I thought I heard—"
Her father rounded the corner and stopped short, staring.
"…just come from a funeral of state?" he said finally. "Not make it home last night after the ball?"
Narcissa shot Lucius a look. Draco winced.
"They want to look appropriate to sit with the Minister in his box while still wearing muggle clothes," Hermione explained to her father, who snorted.
"If I was going to a footie game, I wouldn't wear that even if I were to meet the queen," he said. He gave the Malfoys a long once over. "Well. You certainly won't be underdressed, that's for sure."
"Are we dressed inappropriately?" Narcissa asked, stepping forward.
"Narcissa," Lucius hissed, but his wife ignored him.
"We don't want to disrespect anyone, but we also don't want to make fools of ourselves," Narcissa went on. "If there's a better dress code we should be abiding…"
Lucius looked very much like he wanted to stab himself and just die on the spot, while Draco was looking from his parents to Mr. Granger worriedly.
"…your match doesn't start until this evening?" Hermione dad said finally.
At Narcissa's nod, he sighed. "Let me go get Jean."
It had taken Hermione's mother a while to convince the Malfoys that no, no one wore such clothing to outdoor sporting events. She'd needed to show them several magazines, pointing out that what they were wearing was appropriate for the red carpet, and not even royals wore such things to sports matches. Lucius seemed highly suspicious of the magazines, which had pictures that didn't move, while Narcissa seemed abjectly fascinated.
When Lucius had finally conceded that yes, maybe they were overdressed, Narcissa had been quick with her next question.
"If not this," she said, gesturing at themselves, "then what?"
"Denims or khakis?" Hermione's mother hazarded a guess. "Narcissa, you could wear a day dress, but it might seem a little out of place in the evening…"
"Hermione's got the right idea, with what she's got on," her dad chimed in. "Denims, a jumper…" he shrugged. "Do Quidditch fans buy fan jerseys?"
Draco's eyes lit up. "Yes!"
"One of those with denims is pretty common," her father said, nodding. He looked to Lucius. "If you want to be a bit dressier because of your Minister, nice trousers and a button up with a blazer or a jumper would be appropriate."
Hermione had a horrifying vision of taking Lucius Malfoy out muggle shopping to Harrods to get jeans.
"I'm sure robes will be fine," she said brightly. "Most people aren't likely to be wearing the correct things, right?"
"While that's true," Narcissa said, smiling thinly, "we are not 'most people', Hermione. We will do this well, or not at all."
Draco exchanged a horrified look with Hermione.
"Well, then," Hermione's mother said cheerfully. "Looks like Hermione gets to take you on a quick shopping trip before the match."
"Don't you have something Narcissa could wear?" Hermione asked desperately. "I can just use tailoring charms—"
"Oh, heavens, no," her mother laughed. "We're not built the same at all – besides, she's got the figure of a model! She should show it off!"
Hermione Floo'd to Malfoy Manor with the Malfoys, where Draco was allowed to run and get his Quidditch jersey to wear. He returned wearing a burgundy jersey that said KRUM on the back with the Bulgarian flag on the front overtop of his very formal trousers. At Hermione's pointed look, he flushed.
"I'll get denims when my dad does," he muttered. "It'll be fine."
Given the hurry before the match, Hermione was relieved when the Malfoys point-blank refused to travel the muggle way.
"It is bad enough I am being forced to do this," Lucius snarled, "but I am not going subject myself to the indignity of muggle transportation. If anyone sees us Apparate, I will obliviate them, and the matter will be done."
Luckily, all the Malfoys needed was a map point to Apparate to. Narcissa took Hermione firmly by the arm and Apparated, which was a singularly-unpleasant sensation like being squeezed through a tube, and they appeared in London with a soft pop!, just down the block from Harrods.
"Well, this is impressive," Narcissa said approvingly, as Lucius and Draco appeared next to them. "This is quite the structure."
While Narcisa admired the ornamental architecture of the building, Lucius Malfoy looked around with sharp, paranoid eyes.
"They're cars, father," Draco supplied helpfully. "They'll stay on the roads. We're safe so long as we stay on the pavement."
Inside the store, Hermione was able to relax at least a little.
"Narcissa, the women's area is over there, if you wanted to look while I help Draco and Lucius?" she suggested. "They have personal shoppers who can help you, if needed."
"That's an excellent idea, Hermione," Narcissa said. "I think I will."
She strode off toward the women's section, and Hermione turned to regard Lucius and Draco, biting her lip. Lucius' eyes were darting all over, narrowed and suspicious, and Hermione winced.
"Jeans first," she decided. "Then we'll get a blazer and shirt."
Jeans weren't too difficult, thankfully – both Draco and Lucius knew their measurements already, making it much easier to sort through the plethora available by size.
"You want a darker wash," Hermione advised them. "Darker colors tend to be more formal. Not black, though – still a blue."
"Do these work?" Draco asked, holding up a pair.
They were remarkably close to the color of her own jeans, and Hermione shrugged and nodded. "They should. You should go try them on to make sure they fit, though."
"Try it on?" Lucius said, turning with a disgusted look. "You mean I might be putting on clothing that a muggle has already put on their body?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's a chance. You can always Scorgify it before you do if you're that worried."
Draco returned in short order, pleased.
"They fit," he said. "They're strong, too – I could probably actually play Quidditch in them if I didn't have my leathers."
"You will not," Lucius snarled, and Draco fell back, silent.
Lucius finally chose his pair to wear not based on the fit but based on the price. He handed the jeans to Hermione to carry without asking.
"A higher price commands a higher quality," he said. "If this Dolce and Gabbana command such a cost, they must be worth it."
Hermione rolled her eyes and discreetly swapped the slim fit he'd picked up for a similar pair with straight legs. The world didn't need to see Lucius Malfoy in skinny jeans – nor did Harrods need an angry Death Eater descending on them once he realized what he'd bought.
A blazer was next on the list. The difficulty here was Lucius kept drifting towards velvet cocktail jackets, which would be utterly inappropriate to wear to a sports match. Fed up, Hermione grabbed a camel-colored wool blazer and cream button-up and shoved them at Lucius.
"Go try these on," she snapped at him, cutting off any protests before they began. "You're going to miss hobnobbing with the Minister entirely at this rate."
Lucius scowled but stalked off to the dressing room, and Hermione exhaled in relief as she did.
"…Hermione?" Draco ventured. "Not to stress you out more, but… muggles don't take gold, do they?"
Hermione's eyes widened, and she rounded on Draco.
"Your parents don't have money with them?" she hissed.
"Of course they do!" Draco objected, holding his hands up. "It's just—well, they have normal money, not the paper kind muggles use—"
Hermione made a strangled noise and tugged on her hair, ready to pull it out.
"You all live off the grid, too," she groaned. "There's not even any kind of credit history to leverage here, or income of any kind." She wracked her brain for a solution. "Do you have any sickles?"
"A few," Draco said cautiously. "Mostly just galleons…"
"Fine," Hermione snapped. "Give them here."
Narcissa found them crouched under a rack of clothes in the back of the floor, hiding.
"This is a muggle area," Narcissa commented, though her tone wasn't condemning. "The Ministry tracks magic in such places."
"They track spells," Hermione corrected, staying focused. "They don't track free transfiguration…"
Narcissa watched for a moment.
"While I am fascinated how you are managing to separate the gold and silver from that galleon and free transfigure it into a new coin," she said, "I do have muggle means to pay for our purchases."
"You what?" Hermione shot to her feet and gave Draco a dark look. He held up his hands, wincing.
"How was I to know?" he defended. "My father certainly doesn't!"
Hermione barely withheld a growl.
Narcissa took everyone's purchases up to the front, where the shop boy rang them up. When he gave her the total, she didn't flinch, merely produced a black Barclays card, which the shop boy took. Lucius gave Narcissa a suspicious look, one Narcissa thoroughly ignored, and it was only when the credit card was back in her wallet and their purchases in a bag that she turned back to the others.
"Home, now?" she suggested, leading the way. "We haven't much time."
Upon their arrival back at Malfoy Mmanor, Lucius couldn't hold back any further.
"Since when do you have muggle money?" he demanded.
"It's not money," Narcissa said coolly. "It's a transfer card."
"Since when do you have—"
"Since Venomspike recommended it," Narcissa snapped back. "When I inquired about the exchange rate to muggle money, he recommended this instead. The Goblins get the paperwork, convert the appropriate amount of gold to muggle paper, and take care of it."
She tossed Draco's jeans at him and stalked off to go get changed, Lucius following her.
"When did you talk to Venomspike…"
Their voices trailed off as they went down the hall, and Draco grinned sheepishly.
"Hopefully you didn't ruin too many galleons?" he offered.
Hermione sighed. "If nothing else, we can mess with them and make a silver snitch or something."
Draco grinned and skipped to the nearest loo to change, returning wearing the jeans and looking very pleased with himself.
"These are much more comfortable than Zabini made them look," he said, looking down at himself. "I can even wear normal boots with these."
"They'll look close enough to muggle boots," Hermione said, shrugging. "You might as well."
When Lucius and Narcissa returned, Lucius was clad appropriately in his designer jeans, wool blazer, and button-up. He looked thoroughly disgusted with himself. Narcissa, apparently erring on the side of comfort, was also wearing dark-wash stretch jeans instead of a dress, to Hermione's surprise. She had on a spotted blouse and a lovely dove-gray jacket. She, too, was wearing typical wizarding boots under her jeans, and she looked perfectly comfortable in her attire.
"If nothing else," Narcissa assured her husband, "we will ensure that no one can claim anything about anti-muggle prejudice about our family today."
Lucius looked slightly mollified by this, though still grouchy. As they prepared to Apparate again, Hermione watched as he drew himself up and back into his snobby, better-than-you posture and sneer.
"Ready?" Narcissa asked. "In 3… 2…"