A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can always find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) if you want story updates, sneak peeks, or to ask questions. Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-seven and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-eight soon!
After the Yule celebrations and the New Year of 1979 had been properly rung in, Hermione found herself wondering what exactly this year would bring. As it was technically the year of her birth, she had spent more than a little time wondering what might happen to her once September rolled around and she was supposed to be born. Would she break something in the circle of time once there were two Hermiones? Only, no, that wasn't possible because two Hermiones frequently existed during her third year when she was using the time turner for additional study.
Walburga would not allow her too much time for melancholic worries, as there was a fabulous wedding to plan. It seemed that having a daughter to dote on brought out the party planner in her and she was deeply invested in daydreaming the perfect ceremony, one that would rival even Narcissa's, despite Hermione's protests.
Hermione's input was wanted in these plans, but her mother realized that they were only one half of the equation. They would need to meet with the other half of the equation: Rabastan and his mother.
They received an extremely proper looking invitation for tea to be held at Lestrange Manor before Hermione and Rabastan were scheduled to return to Hogwarts, which in turn had her mother in a tizzy. Hermione let her fret over her hair and her dress robes, until she was certain that she looked as perfect as she was ever going to look.
Nerves had settled in her belly, not only because it would be the first time she'd see Rabastan in person since they shared a Yule kiss, but also because it would be her first time meeting his mother. She didn't know much of anything about Rabastan's mother, but she knew that she wanted to make a good impression. Still, she found herself wishing for a few extra people to keep the attention off of her.
"Are you sure that Regulus can't come with?" she found herself asking her mother while they stood in front of the fireplace with a handful of floo powder. "He's friends with Rabastan."
"No, Hermione, we don't need any extra opinions making this more difficult than it will already be," she answered, exasperated.
"Then maybe Cassiopeia should be there? She won't let anything happen that we don't want to," Hermione suggested, feeling like maybe they ought to have the backup of Aunt Cassiopeia.
"Absolutely not," Walburga said. "Now, we don't have any time to spare, I will not have Claudia Lestrange say that I was late."
Then, without any further arguments from Hermione, she pushed her through the floo, sending her straight into the parlor at Lestrange Manor. Upon arrival, Hermione discreetly pulled her wand and cast a quick spell to remove any soot from both her and her mother's robes. It was not long before a beautiful looking witch welcomed them into their home.
"Walburga, hello," she said, breezily, pressing a quick kiss to her mother's cheeks. "And this must be Miss Black."
The witch, presumably Claudia Lestrange, took a moment to look Hermione up and down. She made no secret of the fact that she was judging her. Still, Hermione plastered a smile on her face, hoping to make a good impression. "Hermione is fine," she said.
"And you may call me Madam Lestrange," the other witch said.
Hermione had to bite her lower lip to stop from saying something impertinent. Instead, Hermione took a moment to return the appraisal . She looked like something out of a Botticelli painting, ethereal and soft. Her hair was a strawberry blonde, if just a bit prematurely grey and her eyes were the same color of blue green as Rabastan's. She was the obvious source of Rodolphus's dark blond hair.
"Mother, please don't try to scare her away," Rabastan said from the doorway.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she saw him again. He looked so handsome where he was standing and she was struck by the fact that this wizard wanted her.
"Posey said that tea is ready," he added, before crossing the distance between them to greet first Walburga and then Hermione. He took her hand, before gently pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles, like something out of a Regency romance novel.
Hermione felt her cheeks heat up, too overwhelmed to do anything but take his offered arm and let him guide her through his home and into the beautiful sunroom where the tea service was waiting for them. She found that she could hardly focus on anything but Rabastan, so she had barely touched her tea when she realized her mother and Madam Lestrange had selected a wedding date.
"June 30th it is, then," Walburga said with a tight smile. Hermione knew that was a concession on her part. Her mother had hoped for a July wedding to give them a bit more time to plan, but she knew that Edmond had wanted it to happen as soon as possible after graduation.
"That will be perfect — our rowan trees should be in bloom then," Madam Lestrange said indulgently. "It will be beautiful for the formal portraits."
"Your rowan trees? Why would that be of any importance?" Walburga asked, clearly affronted. "The wedding will take place at the Black Manor as do all of our family weddings."
"Well, this will become Hermione's home," Madam Lestrange countered. "And I seem to recall Narcissa's wedding being held at the Malfoy Manor."
Rabastan made a little noise in his throat. "Actually, Hermione and I haven't discussed where we would live after the wedding," he said, diplomatically. "I was thinking, perhaps we might be better off getting a townhouse nearer to London. After all, I think that both Hermione and I will want to continue studying or perhaps even pursue work after school." He shot her a tiny grin and squeezed her hand under the table.
"Work? She wants to work?" Madam Lestrange asked, pressing a hand to her chest like it was the worst thing that she'd ever heard. "You don't have to work, Rabby. I don't want that for you, no matter what ideas she has been putting in your head."
"She hasn't been putting ideas in my head," Rabastan argued back. "I want to work. I want to do something useful."
"You'll have things to do," she murmured indulgently. She pressed a hand onto his arm, squeezing. "Helping your father with his work at the Wizengamot."
Rabastan pulled his arm away. "That's Rodolphus's responsibility, Mother," he hissed, sounding rather annoyed for a moment, before he took a deep breath. "May I show Hermione around the grounds. If you are going to insist that we live here, I should give her a tour so that she can make an informed decision."
Madam Lestrange looked like she wanted to protest, but she eventually waved them away. Rabastan helped her up from the table, before guiding her out of the sunroom. Rabastan showed her a few of the rooms on the first floor, before slipping outside into the grand back garden. He inconspicuously cast a warming spell on both of them, before leading her down the path, away from the large house.
"I apologize about my mother, she hasn't been taking the betrothal well," he said, with a sigh.
"Oh," Hermione said, feeling a knot form in her throat. She'd been so caught up in the fact that she was being forced to marry that she didn't think of how anyone else might be feeling. "I'm perhaps not the witch that she imagined for you."
"No, it's not you, it's more... me," he said with a frown. "She can't imagine the thought of me being married to anyone. I think that she would prefer I remain with her, forever."
"Well, you are a bit young," she said, thinking that it was not strange to want more for your child. Though, she hadn't seemed to want him to continue his studies or to work, so it wasn't that she really wanted more for him either.
"My mother..." he trailed off, unsure of himself. "My mother has not been lucky. After Rodolphus, she was unable to conceive for a long time. Until me. Then, she almost died giving birth to me. My father says that it changed her. She has always kept a close watch on me, worried should I stray too far."
Hermione was not sure what to make of what he was telling her, though it did explain why there were so many years between Rabastan and his older brother. "It must be nice to have a parent who cares so much about you," she said, hoping that was appropriately diplomatic.
Rabastan smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Yeah, I suppose," he agreed. "But, at this point, it feels more like... like smothering. I don't know how, but somehow this now has me carrying the weight of both of my parents' expectations, when it should be Rodolphus who is shouldering the burden."
Hermione was stunned and not entirely sure what she should say. She didn't know what to do, so she lay her head on his arm, hoping to be a source of comfort for him.
"We don't have to live here, if you don't want to. I'm sure that I could convince my father that a townhouse is better. Maybe closer to your parents," he suggested, before pointing in the direction of the house. "But, if we lived here, we could have our own wing, here on the third floor. I am sure we wouldn't have much trouble, until Rodolphus finally marries, which I don't think he is keen to do anytime soon."
"I hadn't really thought about it," Hermione murmured. She didn't really fancy living here —it would be too strange to live with Rabastan's parents. She would much rather live in a flat. But, ultimately, she knew that it wasn't really up to her. And, seeing as Rabastan almost never did anything for himself, she would be happy for him to make the decision on his own. "Where do you want to live?"
"I think that my parents would prefer we live here," he said, his gaze dropping to the snow in front of him.
Hermione stopped him, pressing a hand to his upper arm. "But what would you prefer, Rabstan?" she asked, looking at him pointedly. "I'll trust your judgment, no matter where we end up, because I know that you are an intelligent wizard."
He practically melted, hearing her give him a compliment like that. With a crooked smile on his face, he wrapped her into a hug. "I think I'd rather it be just the two of us, without the baggage of family," he said. "Leave Rodolphus to his own devices for once."
She was relieved to hear that he wanted the same. "I look forward to it, then," she said, with a grin. "Though, maybe we should wait until we are safely back at Hogwarts to tell your mother. I don't think that she likes me very much."
"It's not you in particular. It's more just... me, I think," he explained, with a sigh. He pulled back so he could look at her, gently cradling her chin. "Now, I think I've been on my best behavior, not kissing you this whole time. Put me out of my misery?"
"Not kissing me is a misery?" she asked, her stomach swooping, feeling like the ground had gone out from underneath her.
"Yes," he said, simply. He smiled at her, giving her a moment to protest, before he leaned down to press his lips against hers.
Greedy, now that she knew just how wonderful it felt to kiss him, Hermione immediately deepened the kiss, her insides twisting in need feeling the light press of his tongue against her own. She wrapped her arms around him, letting him plunder her mouth, wondering just why she had resisted this for so long. His arms felt strong around her, grounding her even when she felt like she might float away.
With a groan, Rabastan broke away from the kiss, catching his breath. "I can't let myself get too carried away with our mothers just only a few yards away," he said, looking as disappointed as he sounded.
Hermione was disappointed as well, even if she knew that it was the sensible thing to do. "Just think of how much of this we can do once we return to Hogwarts," she said, grinning up at him. "I want to tell people that we are dating."
Rabastan looked happier than he had all day. "Really? You don't want to wait anymore? I'm willing to wait, now that... now that I can kiss you anytime that I want to," he said, with the eagerness in his voice letting her know just how taken he was with the idea.
"Yeah, I don't think we need to go announcing it in the Great Hall or anything, but like... telling our friends and housemates," she said. She grabbed the chain that she wore around her neck and pulled the Lestrange ring from inside her dress, letting it hang on the outside, for the world to see.
"I'd really like that," he answered, reaching down and grabbing her hand tightly in his, giving it a quick squeeze. He let out a contented sigh. "Alright, I think that we should return to our mothers before they tear each other apart."
Hermione snorted at the mental image, thinking that Walburga would never succumb to something like that, but when they walked back into the sunroom, she could already hear her mother's shrill voice.
"Of course we will purchase her dress. That sort of thing is always purchased by the bride's family," she hissed at Madame Lestrange, obviously irate at the mere suggestion that the Black family would be unwilling or unable to take care of their part of the ceremony. "In fact, the bride's family usually pays for all of it, so maybe you and Edmond should just show up as honored guests."
"I will not merely be a guest at my son's own wedding!" Madame Lestrange shouted back. "We will take care of the catering, then."
"No, absolutely not the catering. I won't have any of those terrible canapes that you wanted to serve at Bellatrix's wedding anywhere near Hermione," Walburga said, smirking when she caught the upper hand. "You can pay for the alcohol, though."
"Good, we will be sure to only serve quality elf-made options," Rabastan's mother seethed, wanting the upper hand. "Not like the swill you probably have in your cellar."
Rabastan and Hermione shared a look of amusement with one another. While they were now on the same page in terms of their relationship and the betrothal, it appeared that they would still need to survive the wedding, and not get unexpectedly caught in the crossfire of their mothers' involvement.