A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter, too! 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 fifty-eight and be on the lookout for chapter fifty-nine soon!
After it had been confirmed that Voldemort knew about her, there seemed little point in trying to hide that she was back from the Wizarding World at large. Overnight, it seemed like everyone had heard about the mysterious Black daughter who had suddenly returned after so many years missing.
The Daily Prophet wrote a breathless and salacious piece, detailing every little thing that they could find about her, but they blessedly had not said anything about the similarities between her and Hermione Granger, a witch presumed dead after an attack on the Ministry. Her father had grabbed the paper out of her hands before she could read much of the story, though.
After the news broke, it was only a matter of time, then, before Edmond Lestrange reached out to them when he heard the news. Hermione was surprised that Rabastan had not told his father about her return and what that meant for their two families, but she supposed that was a conversation for father and son. Still, her eyes stuttered over the invitation to dinner she received from her future father-in-law when it arrived, carried by a beautiful owl.
Regulus, protective as ever, noticed it first. "What is that?" he asked, eyes narrowed at the parchment in her hand.
"Edmond Lestrange has invited me to dinner at their home this evening," she said, trying to stop the smile that was tugging at her lips. "Though I wonder why it came from him and not Madame Lestrange."
Orion made a little noise. "Claudia passed many years ago," he said, looking serious. "It seems that the stress of having a son in Azkaban was too much for her."
Hermione frowned at that and made a point to remember to pass on her condolences to Rabastan later. She knew that Claudia Lestrange had not really approved of her, but she was still Rabastan's mother and they had been very close.
"I'll have to begin preparing for dinner shortly after lunch," she told her father. "I don't know what time to expect to be home, but you'll keep the floo open for me, won't you?"
"You can't honestly be expecting to go?" Sirius asked, before watching Orion nod at her request. "And you? You think it's alright for her to go into that... that viper's nest! Rodolphus is still at large."
"Of course, Hermione will go. We are bound by the betrothal," Orion said after a beat of silence. "However, Edmond cannot begrudge her a chaperone. Regulus will attend with her."
Hermione bit her lip to keep from complaining. She understood that Regulus would keep her safe (though she did not think that she had anything to worry about where the Lestranges were concerned), but she knew that he was still wary of her and Rabastan being left to their own devices. She wasn't sure if she'd even manage a kiss under her brother's watchful eye.
"I'll leave you three to sort out the details," Hermione said, standing up from the table, to make her retreat. "But, I'll be leaving here at 5:00."
Once she was in the safety of her own room, she pulled out her heavy Charms book that she'd been ordered to read by her new professor, the domineering Augustus Dassault, hoping to make some dent in it. She still felt somewhat bad that she was here, pretending like things in the Wizarding world were normal and she could study at her leisure, when Voldemort was out there making lives miserable. But then, she reminded herself that if she had been beside Harry and Ron at Hogwarts, she would still have made time to study, so she tried to give herself some slack.
When lunch came around, she could barely eat for the nerves that had begun to grow, concerned about what facing Edmond would be like. What if he wanted to dissolve the betrothal, same as the rest of her family? What if he'd put two and two together about who she really was and couldn't let his son marry someone who'd grown up as a muggleborn?
She took a bath, hoping to chase away the negative feelings, but they remained, even as she mechanically dressed in a pretty set of green robes. She looked to Rabastan's signet ring for reassurance as she did her hair in the vanity.
Regulus was already waiting for her in the parlour so they could floo over together. Before, she'd balked at the thought of having a chaperone, but now she was glad for his silent presence beside her. He must have noticed her mood because he was giving her a reassuring smile even as he pulled her through the green flames.
The two Lestrange wizards were waiting for them when they arrived and again, Regulus deflected Edmond's interest from her for a moment, greeting him first, so she could greet Rabastan in kind. Her betrothed stared at her like she was the most beautiful witch that he'd ever beheld, his hands coming to rest at the gentle dip of her waist.
"You look incredible, Hermione," he said, bending down to press a quick kiss to her cheek.
She grinned shyly at him, drinking in his own attire and finding him handsome and commanding. It would be hard to keep from staring at him, she decided, and her fingers itched to touch him, to slide under the crisp fabric of his shirt to feel what was hidden of him. "You look pretty incredible yourself," she whispered, hoping to not be overheard.
Then, he was pressing his hand against her lower back, guiding her over to the wizard she'd been dreading meeting again. "Hermione, you remember my father, Edmond?" he asked, by way of introduction.
"Of course," she breathed out, meeting his heavy gaze. "Good to see you again, Edmond."
"Is it, Miss Black?" he asked, looking at her with suspicion. "You've been hiding away from us for over fifteen years — disappeared less than a month before the wedding. I figured you and Bellatrix were more alike than you cared to admit."
"Surely this would be better discussed at the table," Rabastan said, smoothly. "We have dinner prepared and waiting and I, for one, could use a drink. How about you, Regulus?"
"Please," her brother agreed, looking far too amused at the drama simmering under the surface.
Without a lady in the house, the task of serving their drinks fell to Rabastan. He walked to the sideboard to pour them each a firewhiskey, though he promised wine with dinner. Regulus helped Hermione to her chair, before passing her her drink. She took a delicate sip, holding onto everything she had not to shudder at the burn of the alcohol.
She took a moment to look at Edmond. Time had not been as kind to him as it had been to her father. His dark brown hair was now more salt than pepper and he had worry lines on his brow and around his mouth, like he'd been in a perpetual frown since she'd disappeared. She supposed that worry about his eldest son must have left a mark. His brown eyes found her face with undisguised interest.
"So, I suppose it wasn't all a lie, then?" he asked. "This harebrained story that my son fed me?"
"It wasn't a lie," Hermione confirmed. "I haven't been... settled in this time long, but as soon as I was able, I reached out to Rabastan to reconnect."
He smirked at her. "And, now that you've come back, will you keep up your half of the bargain?" he questioned, ignoring Regulus's flustered reaction. "You were supposed to be married as soon as you left school."
"Father," Rabastan warned, glaring at the older wizard. "I'm not sure that this is the right time."
Hermione felt a slither of worry wind in her stomach, wondering if he'd got it in his head to try to get out of the betrothal again, when he'd only just promised not to fight it. Or perhaps, he hoped to put it long enough that she would change her mind of her own accord.
"And why is Salazar's name isn't it?" Edmond demanded, slamming his hands against the table, sending his silverware rattling.
"You are still in favor of the betrothal?" Hermione asked, breathlessly. She had not expected to find an unlikely ally in Edmond Lestrange, but she was not going to deny a helpful voice if she could find one.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked her sharply. "This one wouldn't even consider another witch in all the years that you were gone — not even when I pleaded with him to see that you were likely dead — living like a hermit because the witch he loved was still out there."
She felt her heart stuttered at what Edmond had revealed about her betrothed, utterly heartbroken at what he'd sacrificed for her. Her gaze flickered over to Rabastan and she found him staring down at his plate, twin points of pink on his cheeks. Embarrassed.
"And now that she's finally back, you're balking," Edmond added with a sneer, just for his younger son.
"I just think that we need to consider things," Rabastan argued. "Hermione is only just back and she is still getting her feet under her. She doesn't know me."
"So, if she gets to know you... to what end? You'd have me release her from this betrothal agreement?" Edmond said with a petty laugh. "My family line is dying. And every day that you remain unmarried, without an heir of your own is a day closer to the Lestrange family being snuffed out!"
Regulus, who had been trying to keep his attention studiously on the French beans on his plate, choked at any suggestion of heirs or her carrying one. Hermione, too, was in no rush to bring a child into the world while Voldemort was still at large and gave her brother's knee a reassuring squeeze under the table, unseen by the two wizards too caught up in their own instruction.
"Well, that responsibility never should have fallen to my shoulders," Rabastan said, an angry edge to his voice. This had been simmering under the surface for a long time. "Rodolphus is the heir, as you're so fond of reminding me. If you want a grandchild, speak to him."
"What would you have me do, Rabastan?" Edmond asked, exasperated.
"Just because Rodolphus and Bellatrix did not work out does not mean that he couldn't have been married to someone else," he insisted.
"You know that your brother had difficulties in that regard," Edmond insisted. "He was in Azkaban. Who would betroth their daughter to someone in Azkaban?"
"Yes, but he's been free from Azkaban for months now and he still hasn't come home," Rabastan argued, just as fiercely. "When are you going to wake up and see what's right in front of you? Rodolphus has never been the heir this family needs and he never will!"
Edmond was silent for a second, the truth of their family situation laid bare, especially ashamed that it was in front of guests. "Of course, you are right. Rodolphus is a disappointment," he agreed, eventually. "But he is my eldest. And he is my heir."
"There is nothing that says the eldest must be heir," Rabastan said, gently, perhaps sensing that he'd struck a blow. "Make me your heir. I've been it in all but name for years, Father. Make me your heir and I will marry Hermione."
"Err — we would need time to prepare of course," Regulus butted in, wanting to be sure that this wedding didn't happen sooner than they were ready for.
"Make me your heir and I will secure the family line," Rabastan continued, as if Regulus hadn't said anything.
Edmond took a deep breath, considering the words. "I suppose, it is in the best interest of the family, then," he said, defeated. "I will make you my heir, Rabastan, even if I have to disinherit Rodolphus to do it."
"You don't have to go that far," Rabastan said, but there was no hiding the blinding smile that he wore at finally having gotten what he wanted. "Thank you. I will prove that you put your faith in the right person."
With that business finally sorted, they spent the rest of the dinner chatting about inheritance rules in the wizarding world. Edmond was intrigued to hear about the families that she belonged to, though none was as powerful as the Black family. Still, he argued that she should try to be recognized by them, even if it was unpleasant for her, if only for the financial implications.
When the dinner was cleared, Edmond disappeared into his office to drink alone, while Hermione, Regulus and Rabastan returned to the Lestrange's parlor for one last night cap. Regulus and Rabastan mostly chatted about some new legislation regulating herbology imports, but when Hermione was going cross-eyed from the minutiae, she smiled sweetly at her brother.
"As stimulating as this is, Reggie, do you think you could go through the Floo first?" she asked, looking at him through her eyelashes. "I would like to have a few seconds alone with my betrothed, especially now that the wedding is officially back on."
Regulus looked at them warily, before he gave them a sharp nod. "But I will be waiting on the other side and the moment I think you've been here too long, I'm coming back through," he warned, before grabbing a handful of floo powder and making his way to Grimmauld Place.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Rabastan the moment that they were alone. She nibbled on her lower lip, thinking about how the conversation with Edmond had gone. "You never had any hesitation to the betrothal, did you?" she asked, lips pursed in annoyance. "You were just using me... using the betrothal as a bargaining chip to get what you wanted from your father."
Rabastan looked pleased, rewarding her with a crooked grin. "Please don't take it personally," he said, stepping closer and pressing his hand to her waist. "You have to use the hand that you are dealt."
She gasped, realizing that he had been an ambitious Slytherin after all. "You could have told me," she said, still annoyed with his deception.
"We both got what we wanted in the end, didn't we?" he asked, his other hand coming up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "And, for what it's worth, if you had been repulsed by me, I would have walked away."
He looked devastatingly handsome from this vantage and she felt her breath catch in her throat when her gaze met his lips. She supposed she'd been doing the same thing throughout their betrothal — holding her willing participation hostage unless she got what she wanted. They weren't so different, after all.
"And now I get to marry the Lestrange heir," she teased, pleased that he was going to get the recognition he deserved, even if it wasn't freely given. "Lucky me."
Rabastan smirked at her, before he dipped his head, slanting his lips against hers in a fierce kiss. There was nothing hesitant about him at all, falling into a practiced rhythm that he'd not forgotten over the years. Hermione parted her lips and moaned into him, feeling the sultry sweep of his tongue against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer to her.
The longer the kiss went on, the faster her blood seemed to boil with desire, nearing some combustion point that she couldn't find on her own. She pressed her legs together, wishing for a bit of friction.
But, eventually, Rabastan was pulling away. He looked away and caught his breath. "You better get back home, before Regulus comes back through," he suggested. "Don't want to have these brief moments with you stolen away from us."
Hermione groaned, but knew that what he said was for the best. Her legs felt like jelly when she grabbed her own handful of floo powder. "Goodnight, Rabastan," she said, sharing a secret smile with him.
"Goodnight, love," he answered, eyes blue-green eyes dancing with mischief. "Sweet dreams."