XXV
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Their second Gifting Gala brought several new faces, due to the first wave of the Fortification Programme being finalized and plus-one's being put to use. While Hermione was less nervous in some respects, there was a mix of different emotions rolling through her stomach at the sight of the crowd.
She had planned for the new attendees, of course. Or at least, she had planned for their numbers. But when she recognized several of the young witches and wizards being introduced as betrotheds, she realized she hadn't considered how she would feel if some of her classmates -even a housemate or two- appeared.
Hermione sipped from a flute, her grip a little tighter than necessary as she watched Lavender Brown simper on the arm of Cassius Warrington. She knew the acrid swirling in her gut was resentment, and she knew that she had no right to feel it, but the bitterness still remained.
Her attention moved from her fellow Gryffindor to Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw girl in her year. The blonde witch looked completely at ease beside the Nott heir, and she held herself with pride and grace, laughing with a group of guests as though they were her dearest friends.
There were others, too, that had been a part of Dumbledore's Army, such as Michael Corner and Terry Boot. Hermione kept reminding herself that they were survivors, like she was, and that they wouldn't be there if they'd had any other choice. She took another long sip of champagne as she tried to focus on what the wizard in front of her was saying, her intended stoic beside her.
"-is extraordinarily progressive of him. Though France holds a conservative view on blood purity, we are being increasingly made aware that even those born to non-magical parentage often have great potential. How can we not see it, when here you stand before us?"
It was the Head of the Bureau de la Justice Magique that was speaking, his wife nodding eagerly at his side, and Hermione wondered if they realized just how backhanded of a compliment they were offering. She batted her lashes.
"There is a reason the Dark Lord has become our leader. He isn't afraid to do what must be done to prosper."
"Indeed. Rest assured, Lord Voldemort and his administration have the full support of the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France."
The guests then farewelled, joining a few other foreign representatives across the room. The young witch bit her tongue to keep from saying something uncouth about the couple, and her attention inadvertently slipped back to Lavender. She nearly jumped when Draco's voice mumbled quite close to her ear.
"People are going to notice if you keep staring at her," he said, placing a kiss on her temple. Hermione swallowed.
"It's just… I mean, I guess I hadn't thought about..."
"They were offered the same choice that you were, and they chose the smarter path. There's no use fighting a dead man's war."
The girl's eyes flicked to Snape, who was conversing with Thaddeus Nott and Dominic Greengrass. She thought of when Harry had told her about Dumbledore's murder, how Draco had been lowering his wand when the Potions Master had stepped forward. The memory sparked some of the old anger she harboured towards the boy at her side, but it was drowned out by the absolute loathing she held for her former professor.
She blamed him for damn near everything, the vile, traitorous snake. If Dumbledore were still around, she was certain things would have turned out entirely different. It wouldn't be a "dead man's war," as her intended had put it, and perhaps it would still be worth fighting. Perhaps there would've been a chance.
"The way you look at him worries me," Draco said, his voice low. Hermione worked her jaw and tore her gaze away from the elder wizard, glancing up at her intended.
"Oh? And how do I look at him?" She ground out.
"Like nothing would make you happier than seeing him bleed out in front of you," he whispered, catching Delilah's eye and signaling her as he offered his fiancée his arm, beginning to lead her towards the open entrance of the rear lawn. The girl huffed.
"I assure you, there is very little that would bring me more joy than what you suggested."
Beside her, the young wizard furrowed his brow and cast both muffling and blurring charms as they started through the hedgerows, their chaperone tailing them just outside the shield.
"Snape is one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters, Hermione," Draco began in a cautious tone. His intended scoffed and didn't let him finish.
"I'm not planning to murder him, Draco. But that doesn't mean I'll be sore if he makes a mistake and pays for it. Perhaps if I ask prettily enough, the Dark Lord will even give me a turn at it."
"That's…"
He trailed off and shook his head, remembering his encounter with Caswell and what had transpired. The girl gave him a curious look as they paused next to the fountain.
"Would you try to stop me?" She questioned, her voice more intrigued than anything else. The boy considered for a moment, then sighed, taking her hands and kissing them.
"I would ask that you stay out of anything related to Death Eater business, but I know better than to try and dissuade you when your mind is made up."
With a small smirk, Hermione said, "That's very wise of you. However, you realize that you're a Death Eater, Draco, one of substantial rank, and you're going to be my husband. That's to say nothing of my own position as Muggle Relations Ambassador. My involvement isn't a question."
"Of course, but why insert yourself into a situation when you're not required to? Especially such a distasteful one?"
He watched as her gaze hardened. "Because like I said before, it would bring me so much pleasure to watch him bleed." She swallowed before she continued. "I used to think I was above hatred. That I was such a good person, I could never cast an Unforgivable, especially not the Cruciatus. But that was a long time ago," the witch stated, glancing back at the ballroom. "I hate that man more than I ever thought a human was capable of hating, and I would Crucio him until his mind was nothing more than an expanse of emptiness."
Draco's forehead creased as his eyes drifted to the ground. He could understand why she felt the way she did, but…
"I was there too, remember. And not unwillingly."
She breathed deeply. "We are not going to talk about that now. Really, we shouldn't be out here too long, especially not behind privacy wards. Who knows what sorts of trouble we could be getting up to."
Her tone was sarcastically scandalous on the last sentence, and the young wizard couldn't help but chuckle, leaning to kiss her jaw.
"It isn't trouble if no one knows about it," he teased, pulling her close and catching her lips. She responded eagerly for a moment, but then reluctantly broke contact.
"Drop the shields," she murmured, and he complied, repressing a sigh as he did so. Delilah raised an eyebrow at the pair, a small smirk on her face, but she said nothing as she took her place just behind Hermione.
When they re-entered the ballroom, they dismissed their chaperone as Theo Nott and his intended approached them, the blonde witch's easygoing expression faltering a little as she came face to face with Hermione. The young wizard beside her didn't seem to notice and greeted them enthusiastically.
"Young master Malfoy and Miss Granger, a pleasure to see you this evening!" Theo exclaimed, ducking his head in an exaggerated bow. He gestured to Mandy. "Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Miss Amanda Brocklehurst."
Draco kissed the girl's knuckles, then Hermione stepped forward and the two witches pecked each other's cheeks in formal greeting.
"It's lovely to see you, Miss Brocklehurst, and of course you as well, young Master Nott," Hermione said. "Congratulations on your engagement."
Amanda nodded, still a bit stiff, and said "thank you" in a tone that was perhaps colder than necessary. This, Theo noticed, and gave his intended a confused glance before returning his attention to his colleague.
"The two of you realize this is your first public appearance since you returned from… Italy, wasn't it?"
Draco looked at his friend with a cautionary expression. "Yes, Italy. And we're obviously aware of that, Theo."
"Just pointing it out," the dark-haired boy said with a smirk. "Generous of you to allow cameras."
The small group looked over at the photographer hovering on the edge of the room, a copper cuff around her wrist that kept her from using cloaking magic to disappear and take potentially unflattering pictures.
Hermione hummed. "Like you said, we've kept to ourselves for a few weeks. It was only fair we give the press something to appease their readers."
It had been Narcissa's idea, of course. To see the darling young couple doing so well after their harrowing ordeal would further endear them to the general public, painting them as resolute and regal, which was a proud opposite of their filthy, lowlife attackers.
Theo canted his head as he looked back at the couple. "To broach a different topic, I must offer my own congratulations to you, Miss Granger, on your appointment to Ambassador. You must be thrilled."
"It's quite exciting, yes. I'm very proud to serve as the Dark Lord's liaison, so he can concentrate on things far more important than working with Muggles," the witch stated. Across from her, the Nott heir's smirk grew.
"Would you be open to trading partners for a dance?"
Draco raised a brow in suspicion, but Hermione nodded, so he released her into Theo's grasp.
The young wizard wasted no time on small talk before beginning what he had to say.
"You realize we all know you're lying, don't you? " Theo questioned as they swayed across the floor. The witch in his arms narrowed her eyes.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The Death Eaters. We all know you're full of shit. Personally, I don't give a damn what you do or don't believe, but it's the principle, you see. You're a liar."
"I believe the Dark Lord referred to me as an actress. What is your point?" She hissed. The boy twirled her elegantly, then brought her closer so she could hear him whisper.
"Draco is one of my best mates. You can play whatever games you want with the rest of us, but not him. He's arse over tit for you, in a demented, devoted way I've never seen before. If you're just 'acting,' stop before he gets his hopes too high."
Hermione was silent with shock for a moment, and had to fight the urge to smack the young wizard.
"While your concern for your friend is admirable, I assure you, it's baseless," she said when she recovered, her voice a low growl. He smirked at her again.
"I hope so. Beacause Draco's actual position, not his silly little princeling title, is important. We rely on him for a lot, and having you fuck him up would set back our operations."
It was quiet as they waltzed, Hermione's brows furrowing as she contemplated something.
"What is Draco's position? We don't really talk about things like that when we're together, but… every so often, something will come up, and he just shakes his head and says it's nothing of relevance. I've heard other Death Eaters talk about their work, but never him. Why?"
Theo looked at her curiously. "He's Head of Intelligence. Blaise and I work with him, handling the international and domestic departments, respectively, but Draco is the one who gets the end reports and makes the big decisions." His face broke into a grin again. "That famously brilliant brain of yours couldn't figure that out?"
The song they were dancing to came to an end, and they moved towards the edge of the floor, Draco and Amanda meeting up with them. The blonde witch looked unnerved, somehow, and could barely meet Hermione's gaze as they kissed each other's cheeks again and in farewell.
"What did you say to her?" Hermione asked her intended as they joined hands and began dancing again.
"Nothing, really. I just asked her a few questions about her family and the like. Polite small talk," he said indifferently. "Do I want to know what Theo said?"
She gave a breathless laugh. "Oh, he was just being a concerned friend. He was worried…" Her gaze turned glassy as she trailed off. Draco breathed a chuckle of his own.
"Worried? That tosser's never cared about a damn thing in his entire life, what could he possibly be worried about now?"
Hermione's focus returned, and she smiled up at her fiancé.
"Nothing. It's completely irrelevant," she murmured, halting their dance to pull him into a kiss. He held her closer and deepened it, and she was all too happy to let him.
A camera flashed.
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