A/N: Thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thank you lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter sixty-five and be on the lookout for chapter sixty-six soon! Only ten chapters to go!
In an additional side effect of her disappearance, it turns out that there hadn't been a Yule party at Grimmauld Place in over a decade and it seemed that the pureblood social calendar simply could not exist without one. The Rosier family had greedily fulfilled the need, inviting practically everyone into the manor house for the holiday.
Hermione was surprised that their little branch of the Black family still warranted an invitation, seeing as Druella Rosier was married to Cygnus. She thought that sort of blood feud might put the Rosiers in a difficult spot.
She mentioned as much to Regulus while she waited for him to get ready in his room, smoothing out his perfect black robes for the one thousandth time. She'd been ready for an hour already, her shimmering silver dress far more daring than anything she would have selected on her own.
Regulus smirked at her reflection in the mirror, carefully reviewing the shape of his mustache. "We are still too important of a family for them to slight," he explained. "Though, Druella makes no secret that she wishes we didn't attend."
"So why are we going to attend, then?" she asked, feeling rather like they were walking into a viper's nest. She almost couldn't believe it when Orion had informed his three children at breakfast.
"Because things at the Wizengamot have been a bit tetchy lately," he explained. "There have been a lot of questions about what we are doing and we need to make an appearance and ... smooth things over a bit. But don't worry, Rabastan will be there as well, so you can just spend the evening dancing with him."
Hermione grinned. "Mother loved hosting a Yule party here," she said, feeling a bit forlorn. "I hope that Rosalie will be up to stepping into Lady Black's shoes and returning the tradition to its proper home."
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. "She will have to pry it from Ottoline Rosier's fingers," he said. "Alright, let's get going. I won't have it said that I primp longer than Sirius."
But, Sirius and Orion were already waiting for the pair of them in the parlor, where they all Floo'ed over together to the Rosier's home. The party was in full swing when they arrived, which was for the best, Hermione supposed. She didn't want to have to make stilted small talk with the Rosiers until they could slip away when more guests arrived.
Sirius sighed. He was most out of place at a party like this, forced back into a society that he had long ago shunned. "I'm going to find a firewhiskey," he said, before slipping through the crowd.
Regulus tucked Hermione's arm in his. "You stay with me until we find Rabastan," he said, gently. "Bernie will probably be here and I don't want him approaching you on your own."
Recalling that Bernard was a Rosier as well, Hermione did not even try to argue with her big brother on the subject. She didn't want that either. They slipped through the crowd, until Regulus was waved over by some familiar faces.
Angus Bellchant was much as she remembered him — huge and intimidating with a boisterous laugh — though age had touched him as well. He had caught Nella and another wizard in a conversation that he seemed to be dominating.
When Hermione and Regulus approached them, Nella's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. "Hermione! Is it really you?" she asked, wrapping her into a tight hug, like they'd never left the Slytherin dorms.
"Nella! I am so pleased to see you again," she said. "You, too, Angus."
"What happened to you?" Nella asked, her hand catching one of Hermione's curls and giving it a little tug. "We were so worried."
"It's a long story," Hermione demurred, not wanting to get into the particulars just then.
"Well, we are so happy to see you back and in such good health. Honestly, you must tell me what your beauty regimen is," Nella continued. "This is my husband, Marcel. We met while I was on holiday in Monaco."
It was as if no time had passed at all and Hermione was able to get caught up chatting just like it was old times. Nella gushed over the pretty engagement ring that Hermione wore now and was quick to extract a promise that a wedding invitation would not be far off. Regulus and Angus mostly kept their discussions to Quidditch, but things drifted to his potential match with Rosalie Fawley.
"Priscilla was a bit miffed, you wouldn't give her a second look while we were at school," Nella revealed with an impish grin. "But, you know that she's happily married now, so you simply mustn't let it worry you."
Nella filled Hermione in on Cilla's marriage to Colin Bletchley and their gaggle of children. Mallory and Ansel were traveling for the holiday and Hermione was reminded of how Mallory had fled the country during the first war. Elvira was apparently floating around the party, too, but none of them had seen her since she swanned in.
Hermione looked around the party, hoping to catch sight of her old friend, only to be caught off-guard by the sight of Sirius laughing. His face was completely transformed into something more handsome, unable to wipe the smile off of his face, his grey eyes flashing with mirth. Hermione's heart softened when she realized that he was flirting with someone.
The witch was gorgeous. The blush pink dress shouldn't have worked with her coloring, but it only made her strawberry-blonde waves more vibrant. Her brown eyes were sparkling with just as much challenge as Sirius's, even if she had to crane her neck to look at him.
She nudged Regulus, drawing his attention back, and pointing out their brother. "Perhaps Sirius will be the one to find the next Lady Black instead," she teased. "Who is she?"
"Adela Nott," Regulus murmured back. "Father will be pleased."
Hermione raised an eyebrow hearing that. Orion and Sirius did not see eye to eye on many subjects, though they didn't argue about it much. "Any relation to my former classmate, Theodore Nott?" she asked, remembering the rabbity Slytherin boy. "I thought he was an only child."
"A cousin, if I had to bet," Regulus answered. "To be honest, I am not completely familiar with their family tree, outside of the fact that there is no questioning the purity of their blood."
Hermione rolled her eyes, disappointed that her father would still be concerned with trivialities like blood purity. But, she supposed that she couldn't change everything. "Looks like she can keep up with him," she mused, pleased to see that Sirius was enjoying himself, when he'd been so resigned to despise the party. "As long as she makes him happy, then I'll be pleased as well."
Regulus let out a deep breath. "Maybe it will get Father off my back a bit, too," he said, a goofy smile coming over his face. "Whoever thought he'd actually find a nice pureblood witch to settle down with?"
"He'd hate to hear that we are planning his wedding over here," Hermione said with a smirk, but she was really too happy to see Sirius back to a happier state to care.
"You are right," Regulus said with a fake sigh. "Better to pretend like we didn't see anything at all."
Hermione hid her smile behind her empty drink glass and looked around the party. She was shocked to see Draco Malfoy standing at the periphery of the room all by himself. Her mind was made up to speak to him before she could ever parse why. "I think I see Rabastan over there," Hermione whispered into Regulus's ear, but he was too caught up in one of Angus's stories to really look. He waved her off.
Pleased, Hermione made her way through the crowd, until she was standing in front of her blond... cousin? "Malfoy," she greeted him, trying her best to keep her face neutral at being face to face with a boy who'd done his best to make her life miserable up until this point.
"Gr—Granger?" he asked, stuttering and unsure of her. "What happened to you?"
"Didn't your mother tell you?" she asked, surprised that he hadn't been given a heads up, especially after Narcissa had approached her. "Then maybe we should speak somewhere quieter instead."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," he said, sneering down at her.
Malfoy had obviously gone through some sort of growth spurt over the summer. When she'd left him, he was only a bit taller than her, but he'd shot up and grown more angular. He looked anxious and angular and she could easily see that whatever Voldemort had asked him to do was weighing on him.
"Suit yourself," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "We can talk about that mark on your arm out here where anyone could overhear."
If it was possible, Malfoy went even paler. He thought that nobody knew, Hermione thought, her heart lurching. Oh, he'd never seemed as young as he did then.
"Fine," he hissed, pressing his hand to her lower back and leading her from the room towards one of the little drawing room's off of the main ballroom. Once they were alone, he whirled on her. "What are you even doing here?"
"I was invited with the rest of my family — Orion, Sirius and Regulus," she said, wondering how he was so out of the loop. "Don't know how to break it to you, Malfoy, but we're related. My grandfather was a Black squib and the rest of them were pureblood squibs, too. I have your Aunt Bellatrix to thank for revealing that particular fact to me when she sent me to the past with a broken time turner."
His eyes went wild as he looked around the room, perhaps expecting Bellatrix to appear, as though she'd been summoned. "That's not possible," he insisted.
"Arcturus did the blood magic himself," Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders. "The Blacks have adopted me formally."
His eyes strayed the Lestrange signet ring on her finger. "And you are marrying a Lestrange?" he asked, sounding surprising. "Willingly?"
"Rabastan and I are quite happy together," she explained. "But I don't want to talk about him. I want to talk about the task that the Dark Lord gave you."
Malfoy recoiled as if he had been slapped. "I don't know what you are talking about," he hissed, even though his reaction gave it away. "And — and even if I did, it's not as if we are friends, Granger. Why would I tell you anything?"
"We aren't friends, but we are family," she lied, knowing that it was a bit underhanded to use this against her, but she needed anything she could get to help them defeat Voldemort. "And, like I said, your mum already approached me. She wanted me to help you."
"Why would she do that?" he asked. His eyes began to shine with tears that threatened to fall, unable to look away fast enough to avoid her noticing.
"Malfoy, I was in your parents' wedding," she said softly. "Haven't you seen pictures? Your mother... She knows that I can help you. But, I can't do anything unless you tell me what it is. You can trust me." She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Do you think that your mum would trust me with this if you couldn't? Do you think Rodolphus Lestrange would let me in his family if you couldn't trust me?"
It seemed that the pressure was just too great for him, because in that moment, Malfoy crumbled. "The Dark Lord wants me to find a way to get Death Eaters into the school," he explained. "I've been repairing a vanishing cabinet. The other half is at Borgin and Burkes. But that's not the worst of it. He demands... he demands that I —"
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Bernard Rosier's arrogant voice rang out. He wrapped his arm around Malfoy's shoulders, pulling him in close. "Getting your heart broken, Malfoy? Did she tell you how she spreads her legs for Lestrange now?"
"No," he said fiercely, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
"Good, because it's not worth it getting upset over a blood traitor," Bernie continued with a smirk. "Besides, she's liable to throw herself at you even though she's betrothed. Isn't that right, Hermione?"
"Shut your mouth, Rosier," Hermione said, drawing her wand. "Though, it's been a while since my family had to show you how to keep your mouth shut about me. Maybe you could use a reminder."
Bernie laughed in her face. "You don't scare me one bit, Hermione," he said with a sneer.
"Do you know each other?" Malfoy asked, looking between them, but too scared to do anything about it.
"Hermione and I go way back," he said, smirking at her. "She got drunk and threw herself at me at a Yule party so many years ago. Poor thing was practically gagging for it. You know what I mean, Malfoy?"
"You got me drunk and tried to touch me, when I couldn't do anything about it, Rosier," she said furiously. "That's not me throwing myself at you — that's assault. Leave me alone. Last warning."
Bernie threw his head back and laughed, like her drawn wand didn't mean anything to her. "You wouldn't dare," he said with a sneer. "I wonder what Rabastan would think if he knew what his betrothed was up to. So naughty, Granger," he said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Luring Malfoy away from the rest of the party, getting him alone. What would Rabastan think?"
Hermione stared into Malfoy's eyes, willing him to keep his composure, but he was already so fragile, barely held together by Bernie's arms tight around his shoulders. Bernie gave Malfoy's cheek a pat, pleased at the whimpering little heap he was turning out to be.
Think, Hermione. She needed to figure a way out of this situation without calling anymore attention to it. She shouldn't have put herself in such a precarious position at the Rosiers' house. There were more Death Eaters out in the crowd than she'd probably ever been around and the Blacks attendance had already raised tensions.
She was so focused on her own nerves, that she didn't even realize that anyone else had entered the room, until she saw the tip of the wand pressed to Bernie's throat. Hermione turned to see who her knight in shining armor was.
Rabastan, she thought with a sigh, melting when she saw that it was her betrothed.
"What would I think about what?" Rabastan demanded.
"About your witch trying to make a move on Malfoy, here," Bernie said, pressing himself further into Rabastan's wand. "Not man enough for her, Lestrange? Seems like some things never change."
The last time a confrontation like this had happened, Rabastan had punched Bernie across the face. But, he was older now, and not so easily pushed into action. He smirked at Rosier. "Please, his voice has barely dropped," he countered with a smug look. "And I've never been concerned about the way that I satisfy Hermione."
"Granger —" Malfoy said in a choked way, like he was scandalized at hearing that she might not be the prude she imagined.
"In fact, seems like you are the one who is more interested in Malfoy," Rabastan continued, completely unbothered. "You're the one who's all... wrapped up around him. Wonder what Lucius would think about that?"
Bernard released Malfoy like he'd been burned, pushing him away until Malfoy stumbled away. "Don't you dare threaten me, Rabastan," he hissed.
"Take your own advice, Rosier," Rabastan ordered, pressing his wand just a bit deeper into Bernard's neck. "If I hear you threatening Hermione again, you'll have me to deal with. Stay the fuck away from her."
Rabastan didn't wait for Bernard to collect himself, dropping his wand arm to his side and wrapping a possessive arm around Hermione's waist. He pulled her even closer to his side. "Come on, Hermione," he said, sounding completely unbothered, acting like Bernie wasn't even there in the room with them. "I can think of better ways to spend our Yule."
Hermione didn't need to say anything, just follow him out back to the main ballroom. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought of the deft way that he'd handled Bernie — of the way that he'd gotten her out of a jam — how he couldn't let her go. She never wanted him to.