"I feel like I have outgrown cucumber sandwiches, Father," Malfoy claimed while eyeing the selection of food in front of him, opting for a pumpkin scone to go with his honeyed tea.

"I thought the same. It was your elf that suggested it," Lucius responded, taking a piece of some type of cake. "In fairness, I think the only person who regularly holds afternoon teas is your mother."

Hermione didn't mean to spy on him specifically, but Malfoy's meetings with his father are typically behind locked doors, and she was desperate to know the status of him being granted authority to the wards. If something came up about his event from the previous night, she could hardly help it.

"I am leaving for Hogwarts in an hour, I won't be back for a couple of days."

"Ah." Malfoy replied to his father. "Do you need me to run the household in your absence?"

Hermione can detect the sarcasm in his tone, and the lift in Lucius eyebrow suggested that he did as well.

"Actually, yes." Malfoy froze and looked up at his father as he continued. "The Dark Lord has been impressed with your performance lately, as have I."

"Father, I… Yes. I can do that."

"It won't be just monitoring the grounds," Lucius said. "People will be reporting their progress to you, and it will be your duty to instruct them how to proceed forward."

Malfoy's throat bobbed and he nodded in agreement.

"If I were to delegate to anyone else, it would question my confidence in you. If the Dark Lord questions our capabilities again he'll-"

"I know what's at stake." Malfoy cut him off in a tone Hermione would never imagine his younger self using with his father. "Tell me what I need to do."

"First thing would be to not go off getting sloshed and returning in the early hours of the morning."

"So you are monitoring me?" Malfoy countered harshly.

"I didn't have to, considering you had to call your elf to side-along home," Lucius' earlier nervousness was replaced with annoyance as he chastised his son.

"Father, it's her job to serve me. Honestly, you act like I took the night bus." Malfoy was breaking his scone into tiny pieces and only eating a small amount at a time.

"What of Astoria? Do you think her reputation would sustain if it got out that she didn't return home until nearly two in the morning?" Lucius was starting to get visibly angry. "Cyrus was less than pleased at his daughter's condition when he arrived for his morning debrief."

Malfoy dropped his silverware on the table at the coldness of his father's voice. Hermione can feel the tension rising between the two.

"It wasn't like that," Malfoy insisted.

"Don't think that I am stupid, boy. I know exactly who it was that requested her attendance."

Malfoy looked down and winced at his words. How had she missed the connection between him and Astoria?

"I didn't think it was appropriate to host here, considering all that could go wrong if things got out of hand," Malfoy attempted to defend himself. "The girls were the only way I could convince them to go to Goyle's instead. They didn't want to ask them to go through the hassle of getting here."

Malfoy looked at his father waiting for his response, but was only met with an icy stare, "Pansy came along too with a few friends. Plenty of people to maintain accountability."

"So you admit she was a pawn in your games? You think because it was not in the worst way that it is acceptable?" Malfoy struggled to find a response. "The girls are not yours to use and manipulate Draco, and you will never do so again. Are we clear?"

"Yes, father."

"If you wish to have their company, which is always something we have encouraged with Astoria, you will do so in a way that is respectable to all parties involved." Lucius' anger was disintegrating as he watched his son sink into his shame. "Maybe try an afternoon tea, your mother invited me to join her on several occasions and I always found them quite enjoyable."

Malfoy visibly relaxes at his father's suggestion. "Yes, of course. I am ashamed to admit I was an extreme case in last night's activities. Tori was brilliant all evening."

Brilliant?

"Good," Lucius turned back to his plate, the worst part of the conversation being over. "I trust even as an extreme case, you were pleasant?"

"Yes! Yes, of course." Malfoy was nearly sweating.

Lucius nodded, "I would hate for there to be any tension during your birthday celebration. It will be the first event since the victory. We can't afford anything to go wrong." Hermione caught a flicker of despair across Lucius' face.

"We'll have to go over all your responsibilities before I leave," Lucius took another pastry off the platter. "Afternoon tea really is delightful. I miss attending them with your mother." Lucius said thoughtfully.

"I agree, though I don't believe I have ever received an invitation in the past."

"Ah, that is because they are a best kept secret. You know the elves were shocked I did not include champagne in our spread?" Lucius mentioned with a glimmer of amusement.

"Really?"

"Mhm. I always told your mother it was a conspiracy to get smashed in the middle of the day."

Him and Draco share a knowing smile.

"And what did she say?"

"She'd merely chuckle and continue with her reading." Lucius' face was overcome with a sad smile, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. "Always the clever one, gives nothing away. You'd do right to remember everything she taught you, especially with respect to courting."

"Yes, yes father. Formal dining and afternoon teas only."

Malfoy's party would be no small feat considering they were hosting it at the manor and the securities will have to be modified to accept all the guests. Her mind started to race through all the different possibilities.

Neddy had usually sent up her dinner by seven, but it was nearly eight and she had not seen Malfoy or the elf since earlier in the day. With Lucius gone, Malfoy will undoubtedly have more obligations to his time. If he doesn't come back soon to set the potion, they will have to start it all over again. She heard a noise from the bedroom and looked inside to find Malfoy was hanging up his robes.

"Fuck. The potion." He remembered suddenly.

"It's fine, I've kept it stirred. But you should probably set it soon."

"I'll do it now."

He double checked the book, already open to the appropriate page, and made quick work of the wand movements. He then moved the potion to the corner of the room on a smaller table, the remaining ingredients were stored on shelves built in.

"I better clean up, dinner should be here soon. My father is going to be gone for a few days and it took a bit to get everything in order while he's away."

She can barely contain her excitement that he was sharing more information with her. Even if he only seemed to do it unknowingly.

"That's fine, I hardly even noticed the time anyways." She pushed a strand of curls away from her face, several have broken free of her bun during the brewing and from being beneath the cloak.

The stubborn strand fell right back in front of her eyes, and she tried to huff it away again. She looked at Malfoy who hadn't moved and was watching her struggle with the wild locks. He had a look in his eyes she couldn't quite place, but after a moment he caught himself and threw on his signature smirk.

"Only you would have access to the best hair salves money can buy and still choose to go with the mop-on-your-head esthetic." He snarked.

"It would be rather difficult to primp myself for hours while I've been tied to this table all day," she snapped back. She used to tame her curls with a few charms but given she hadn't a wand she had been putting it in a bun or braid. She was starting to wish she would have looked in the mirror before he got back, if only to be aware of how unruly they had gotten.

Neddy removed the lab table from the center of the room and conjured a small dining table and two upholstered dining chairs right against the large windows.

"I didn't realize Malfoy was having a formal dinner this evening." She usually just ate at the coffee table.

"Sir is not required to eat with the others tonight," Neddy answered simply.

Hermione could see the ease on Neddy's face. It must be a relief to not have to serve dinner to a table of death eaters. They were anything but kind to the elves from what she had witnessed. Even Malfoy appeared colder and more demanding when amongst his peers.

Malfoy's hair was dry and combed, but not gelled back like it is during the day. He was wearing a button up shirt and trousers, close to his usual apparel. It seemed excessive that he would dress formally just a few hours before needing to change for bed.

In the middle of the table was an arrangement of flowers, Hermione recognized it was the same kind that the Malfoy men had at the table during tea.

"Are you going to sit down?" He asked her, catching her standing and staring at him awkwardly.

She crossed her arms at his rudeness but took the seat opposite of him and put her hands in her lap. Luckily, the table is next to the window, so she had somewhere to fix her eyes as they waited for Neddy to return with their meal.

A bottle of wine and two salads appeared suddenly on the table the same way the food appeared at school. She grabbed her salad fork and began poking at it while Malfoy went to fill his wine.

"The salad fork is the chilled one to the right," he explained and then looked up at her, seeing she was already taking her first bite.

"I know how to identify forks, Malfoy. I was raised by muggles, not wolves."

"Well, I don't know what you muggles use. I've seen you eat entire meals with your bare hands." Malfoy reached over with the wine bottle and filled Hermione's glass.

"You're one to talk, you tear your pastries apart like you are a bird." She grabbed her glass and took a sip without thinking.

When she tasted it, she couldn't help but let out a satisfying hum. When was the last time she had wine? She took another generous sip and saw Malfoy mirror her out of the corner of her eye. She was afraid to even ask how much the bottle costs.

"Elf-made," he answered for her as he started on his salad. "Before you start complaining, know that wine making is one of the most prestigious jobs an elf can have."

"You can hardly call it a job if they are being forced to work and do not get paid."

Malfoy topped off her glass and she scowled but didn't protest. They ate in silence for a few moments before Hermione tried to start another conversation.

"My parents taught me the art of formal dining, but we didn't do it every evening, just for special occasions or if we went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. Mostly whenever one of my mother or father's friends had a wedding or some sort of celebration." Like the birthday party he was hosting in two weeks that he still hadn't told her about. "My mum was always particular on table manners however, even if it was just the three of us at home."

"Mother insists we dine formally at every meal. I can usually get away with skipping out on breakfast or lunch, but there is no mercy for Malfoy men if he is not in attendance for dinner." He said the words like he was quoting them verbatim, but she could see him get uncomfortable at the mention of his mother.

"Suppose the set up may be a bit much," he stated looking over the table in detail and then to his companion sitting across from him. "But she spent years putting the fear of Morgana in me for participating in an improper dinner. Especially with a witch in attendance."

This made Hermione smile a little more naturally. She could easily see Narcissa scolding her classmate through the years while he sulked.

He reached for a roll in the middle of the table, the circle or bread looked extra small in comparison to his long fingers. He used his knife to add butter to the edge of his plate and proceeded to break off bite size pieces and butter each one individually before eating it.

"Has your father left already?" She tried to ask with the same casual tone of their conversation.

"Yes." He responded quickly, not looking up at her.

"Will you tell me where he is going?"

He froze and slowly looking up at her. Their salad plates disappeared and were replaced with the soup course. She had never asked him such an outright question before.

"Better if I don't," was all he said in response.

"Why not? It's not as if I could let anything slip anyways."

Malfoy sighed, "you won't be locked in here forever."

Her anger was instant. Anger, and what felt vaguely close to betrayal.

"What does that matter? No one will know it was you who told me. Besides, any information I can pass on to the Order once I leave can only help our cause." She had to stop herself from shouting.

He set his soup spoon down and met her stare. "Our cause?"

"Yes, our cause."

"I didn't realize you were a supporter of the Dark Lord, Hermione. Why have we been wasting time hiding you away? Let's bring you before him and see where he would like to place you within our ranks."

She could feel her eyes start to water but she blinked the tears back. He cannot still be a supporter of that monster. She wouldn't be here if he was.

Is that why he was still withholding information? So that she could not ruin any of their progress once she escaped? Her mind was spinning, and she was fighting to maintain control and not make the situation any worse.

"No, I'm not. And neither are you." The words came out as a whisper and nearly get caught in her throat.

In meetings he was always uncomfortable and afraid. He would wince anytime Voldemort would speak there was no making that up. Her mind started thinking of all the missions he had completed, but he told it was to gain his father's trust. What he was saying now was a lie. He didn't know how well she saw who he truly was.

"Don't assume you understand where my loyalties lie, Granger. The fact remains. There are things that only myself and my father know. If they get out, there will be no doubt where you got your information from."

"And that includes where he went this weekend?" She refused to let it go. He was going to tell her something.

Malfoy took a large gulp of wine and reached to refill the glass, but Hermione grabbed the bottle first. She knew it was a childish move, but she had to take any amount of power that was in reach. She held it to her and looked at him. Waiting.

"My Father will be visiting Hogwarts for a few days," he conceded.

Whether it was holding the wine hostage, or something else, she was overcome with satisfaction. It was an honest answer too, considering she already knew where he went.

Hermione gave Malfoy a small smile before bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a drink.

"Agh!"

Never had she seen him look so shocked and horrified. She handed the bottle over, and he pushed it back to her.

"You chastise me for suggesting the proper utensil and then you assault my elf-made wine?!"

Neddy popped in a moment later, noticing that neither of them had eaten their soup. Malfoy instructed her to open a new bottle of wine, but not to leave it on the table.

"You said your parents took you out in public?"

"Mhm. We even attended a birthday party for the mayor of London once." Hermione sang.

"And did you flick peas at him with your spoon from across that table?" he sneered.

She giggled and interpreted Malfoy's teasing as a sign that he was relaxing. They were starting on the main entrée when Malfoy surprised her again for the second time.

"On the topic of birthdays, mine is in a couple weeks. We'll be hosting a celebration in the ballroom. It is turning into a bigger deal than we thought it would be," he continued speaking between bites. "There will be well over a hundred guests in attendance. Father has found a way to grant people access by invitation just for the evening."

Her heart was pounding. Yes. How hard could it be to slip her out with numerous people coming and going?

"Your stay here may be coming to an end."

Hermione couldn't fight her smile that time as it broke across her face. Malfoy's own face betrayed him as he couldn't resist returning a small smile back. "My father is still the only one who can grant access through the wards, but he is using a charmed guestlist. If I could get your name on it, I think it would be enough for you to leave."

She could jump up and hug him, but she knew that would not be well received. She could be out in a couple of weeks. She could see Ron in a manner of days. She would know if Seamus and Pavarti made it to the hospital and if Ginny was still alive. She could tell Arthur and the order everything she has learned since she's been there, and the attacks she knows they are planning.

"I can see your brain going a mile a minute from here, Granger. Don't get your hopes up too high. It is not a done deal yet."

She couldn't stop smiling like an idiot but nodded her head anyway to acknowledge his warning.

"What about you?"

"How do you mean?"

"You're not going to stay here, are you? You could come with me. I'd vouch for you. No one would hold your past against you considering all you have done to help me."

What was remaining of his smile faded, and he focused back on his meal.

I can't leave, Granger. I am a loyal, dedicated servant of the Dark Lord. I have pledged all that I have, and all that I am, to serve him in making his masterful vision a reality." Their eyes met, despite what he was saying, she could hear a subtle subtext behind his words. "And you are not the only person I have depending on me to serve my role well."

They kept the conversation light for the rest of dinner into dessert. Malfoy scoffed and rolled his eyes as Hermione shared stories about parties she'd attended growing up. Malfoy revealed some of the plans for his birthday celebration which was gearing up to be more of a formal event than an eighteen-year old's party.

She had spent more time with Malfoy today than the past two weeks combined. When Malfoy had to leave to tend to his new responsibilities, the wine made it easier than ever for her to drift off into sleep.