Chapter Text
"You'd like to order now Ms. Malfoy?" It was the third, no, the fourth time that waitress came to ask the same question. Narcissa lost count of the time between each one of the interruptions the measly girl bothered her with, but she certainly didn't lose count of the stares she was receiving from different patrons on de Vries.
Three-hundred sixty eight stares coming from twenty-four patrons over the extent of what she imagines was the last two hours, since the sunset was long gone by now. And not even that, more than judgement and despise coming from the lot of pure-blooded hypocrites, she was also getting it from the help. She didn't need to sense or take a look at their thoughts, it was well written on everyone's face, how poor Madame Malfoy, again stood up in favor of Ministry ass-kissing.
While Narcissa thrived on stares seething with jealousy when she was dining with her husband on one of their obligatory date nights or bathed in the joy and glory of sneaky scandalous stares when she was accompanied by one of her consorts, the pitying scornful stares she was getting right now just made her seethe in rage. She was not raised to the elegant and prideful Black matriarch she was, to be let down or be left waiting by a man that was essentially the embodiment of a soggy noodle, at best.
"Just keep the water, and I'll call for you when I need you." Narcissa dismissed the girl with a motion of her hand without even looking up from her glass of water. She glanced at her wristwatch and still had no response to the thoughts she sent Lucius' way. This night was proving itself to be a waste of a lovely Saturday night where she could have gone visit her son at their winter manor in Norway, or just seat herself on one of her comfy armchairs with a book and a glass, or rather a bottle, of elven wine. While she sent the girl away she could feel the stares burning from every direction. Twenty-four pairs of scornful eyes aimed at her, plus the help. This was going to be the talk of her circles come the rest of this weekend and not for reasons she intended to. She was heavily debating the pros and cons of leaving… having a good night for herself – at least the rest of her night was a heavy pro – but enduring the scornful stares with her head held high while she walked out would take most of her pride getting wounded and her rage to unleash because of that idiot of a husband she ended up with. To think it was such a promising marriage in the beginning. Getting her glass and tilting her jaw up she glances at a few people and even see some of the lone, less relevant bar goers glancing her way. Lucius better be getting himself named Minister or he wasn't going to like getting home tonight.
Putting her glass back down on the table, Narcissa glanced down at her wrist where her silver watch was showing a light blue swirl of nothing. Lucius wasn't even willing to show he cared. Setting herself to spare even one more ounce of shame to get past her pride, Narcissa raised a finger to her temple while concentrating on her loath for her husband in that moment, and slipped a sliver of a thought into her wrist watch crystal that now read "Don't bother showing up, I'm seeing myself home and you better not be home by tonight".
After emptying herself of some disgust Narcissa put a strand of hair behind her ear and tossed the rest of her glass contents down her throat, ready to be up and out of this restaurant in no time. She was doing just that when she felt a feather kiss on her cheek and a rather loud and hurried apology coming from an unknown mouth, "Sorry babe, international Floo from the French Ministry was a bugger tonight." At that a girl that could well be her daughter-in-law removed her cloak, letting the fabric to disappear out of thin air and took a seat in front of her. Narcissa narrowed her eyes scanning the girls outfit that was far from upper class pure-blooded standards: a high-waisted black faux-leather pant, a translucent blood-red flowing blouse with a high collar and high heels. Not entirely muggle-ish for the new couture but too close for comfort.
Narcissa raised one eyebrow and projected her thoughts into the girl’s own thoughts, as she asked "What do you think you're doing girl?" and just a second short of finishing her thought, a warm hand was atop her own on the table and squeezing as the girl opened her mouth again to apologize "I'm really sorry for letting you wait so much, but I couldn't manage to get a word to you across from Paris. I'd do anything to make up to you, babe", at the same time the girl let herself be read by Narcissa "I'm Hermione. Just go with it okay, whoever didn't bother showing up is definitely a dick".
Narcissa slowly took off her hand from under Hermione's hand and raised her finger, calling the waiter back. When the waiter arrived Narcissa threw a smug smile Hermione's way before handing her the menu, "You can start making up to me now". Narcissa watched the girl for any sign of uneasiness at being pushed and pressured to make a decision, but instead she got a traditional 7-course meal order detailed in French, what would sum up to more three or maybe four hours of her night. Bold girl.
After the waiter collected their order and served their eleven wine and appetizers they were alone again, and arguably on some unplanned date. “So, what in the French Ministry took you so long to show up, darling?” Narcissa asked, circling the base of her wine glass with her fingers.
Hermione took a moment to ponder, studying Narcissa’s features and cracking a small smile. She murmured a spell that felt like they were engulfed by a bubble, not much sound seeping in, or out. “A meeting with the French Minister and all European schools representatives regarding the Triwizard Cup Beauxbatons is hosting in the next school year.”
“I thought that would be all set by now?” Narcissa raised an eyebrow to Hermione while she played with the pissaladieres in the slim tray between the both of them.
“Oh, so news travel fast indeed”, Hermione sported a relaxed expression. She could see the older woman literally playing with her food out the corners of her eyes and that brought an amused grin to her face. “Most of the tasks and logistics are already set, but there’s still some artifacts to secure, and change one creature or two…” She reached out to take one of the pissaladieres while brushing her fingertips on Narcissa's fingers.
“Wouldn’t a change of creature at this stage impact all the logistics of at least one of the tasks if not the tournament in its entirety?” Narcissa frowned a little. It was the third Triwizard Tournament the Ministry was promoting after they decide to bring it back in 1994. Having a minimum of four years to prepare the tournament one would expect it to be already set months before it took place.
"Well, I took a vacation on the New Years and they put an intern from the Magical Creatures Department to set up the creatures for the last task. The idiot thought a basilisk could be a good challenge. As if we wanted to outrightly kill all contestants in the end." Narcissa watched the girl, Hermione, comb her hair with her fingers and lean back on her chair. She talked with ease about her work, a confidential matter, without really giving information about what is going on, only on what wasn't. Easygoing and smart, well, the girl really turned the fate of her night from consumed by rage to actually pleasant.
The waiter came back shortly to retrieve the empty appetizer tray and put down the hors d’oeuvres, a small bowl of onion soup. After taking a sip of her spoon Narcissa asked, "And what do you intend to put on the Basilisk's place?"
"I can't really tell you, can I Miss … ?" Hermione stopped herself with a pout, only now acknowledging that she didn't really ask for the name of the woman in front of her.
"You can call me Narcissa." The blonde said with a small smile while tilting her glass up.
"Well, a beautiful name, as is it's owner." And then it came the cheekiest grin along a wink and the monstrosity that was that phrase.
Narcissa lightly facepalmed to hide a humorless laugh. "Please don't say things like that again. I'm too old for this."
"Well, at least now you're smiling. I think that can be taken as a victory!" Hermione scanned the other woman's face, smiled and adjusted herself in her chair, what made her foot bump on the blonde's calf. She kept it locked there "But, it’s true. You are beautiful, Narcissa."
It’s been a while since Narcissa felt inebriated by a simple compliment. This feeling was new. It was odd… but it was welcomed. Narcissa didn’t know what to do with it though, so it was better to redirect the attention. “Mhmmm, thank you. But you still didn’t answer my question.”
Hermione smiled. She’d smiled a lot through this night, it was refreshing to do so after being locked up all day every day with old men who ever doubted her skills and work ethic. “I’ll just go after some dark artifacts that are complex enough to give the contestants some work while still not being able to kill them. Maybe work with dementors or banshees.”
“It sounds… fun. I may have some family artifacts that could work well with banshees, if you want to test the kids on how to deflect curses to your hearing system.” Narcissa was so immersed in their conversation she almost missed the waiter gathering their soup bowls and bringing the fish and vegetables. A 7-course French meal was composed of small portions and focused on variety. Certainly something to woo a date. Coming to think of that, Luicius would probably go for a simple 3-course or at most a 5-course dinner on a fancy date. She saw the cracks in her marriage grow wider by the minute. Narcissa didn’t know to what stars she should send her thanks, but tonight was surpassing any expectations.
“I just want something that it doesn’t end up in unforgivable curses again. Durmstrang’s champion was a hassle in 94.” Narcissa noted Hermione didn’t touch her fish and instead just nibbled at the vegetables. So was this girl really wooing her? On a fake date? It was curious.
“You worked on the 1994 Tournament? You don’t really look that old. Actually you do look like you could be my daughter-in-law.”
“No, I was a student at Hogwarts at the time. In my fourth year.” Hermione said that last part sheepishly, her cheeks taking a rosy hue.
“So you’re indeed my son’s age.” Narcissa giggled, and then stopped widening her eyes. She’s never talked about her son when talking with her consorts. Not even a comment. Family was sacred and only worthy people deserved to know about her life in such an extent. And then again she was comparing this girl to one of her extra marital relationships. What was going on with her today?
“So, your son… was he to Hogwarts? I don’t think I’d forget someone on my year that had those looks.” Hermione smirked while leaning forward and tentatively gliding her fingertips on the back of Narcissa’s hand.
Narcissa tensed a little at the contact but let her. She tried speaking but had to take a sip of her wine to clean her throat. “Well, he looks more like his father… and no, he attended Durmstrang, actually. His father wanted him at a pure-blooded only school, even if I preferred he’d kept to the family tradition and gone to Hogwarts.” She noticed the younger girl’s finger stopping next to her little finger’s knuckle in the middle of her phrase, and lowered her glance down at it. “Maybe he’d be working at the Ministry with his father if he was here.”
“Mhmm, so you miss him? Your son.” Hermione rested her hand beside Narcissa’s atop the table and looked at her dead in the eye.
“Yes. Which mother doesn’t miss their children?” The weight of that stare was something new to this night. Everything up to now was made out of shy smiles, smirks, quick glances and alluring touches. But nothing as charged as this.
“Tell me more about him.” Hermione spoke just a tad louder than a whisper.
“And why would you want to know?”, Narcissa questioned harshly.
“Well, the most emotion you showed tonight was when mentioning him, and I want to see it again.” Finding a slight crease on Narcissa’s brow, a questioning stare, Hermione continued, “All the love and care you put into it is even more beautiful than the posh, aristocratic attitude.” Every time this girl opened her mouth, it rendered Narcissa a little more dumbstruck.
Narcissa took a second to pull herself together again and think about what to disclose. The ease with what this girl let her was proving to make her agitated when acknowledged. “Draco, he’s clever, he’s polite, he’s kind and sweet to those he cares about.” She smiled as some sort of memory brought a smile to her features, “He can come off as rude and posh to some people who don’t know him well in circumstance, but that runs in the family… it may be my fault since I spoiled him so much growing up.” That made her frown a little bit, still with a tiny smile on her face before she continued, “But he is a nice young man, overall.”
“I’d…” Hermione threaded those waters carefully now, scratching her nail lightly on the tablecloth next to Narcissa’s wrist, “love to meet him. You really sound like a great mom, Narcissa.” Narcissa was surprised with how much that phrase warmed her heart when she heard not a projection, but a simply open thought at the same time those slender fingers returned to feather touches along her wrist, “Whoever didn’t bother showing up tonight is a literal idiotic little prick.”
“Well, yes. My husband usually is one.”
That sentence made things go cold real fast, as Hermione was only able to let out a crooked “Oh” at the same time the fish dish was taken out and the lime sorbet was brought in. And as soon as it was out of the girl’s mouth, Narcissa felt cold from the now absent fingers that tingled her hand and forearm. And that's how she remembered that was far from the usual affair. Usually they knew she was married and knew the brevity of their encounters.
The resulting silence was awkward. That wasn't really another way to put it.
They mostly ate their sorbet and sipped at their water before someone, Narcissa, opened her mouth, "How about your family?"
The girl fidgeted a little with the napkin on her lap before answering, "They live well and healthy in muggle Hampstead. I go visit them almost every other weekend."
Narcissa could understand the fidgeting now. That was not what she was expecting, but piecing some things together, she could see it clearly now: the sense of style, the missing touch when she talked about the reasons why Draco attended Durmstrang. That complicated things. Narcissa gone through the full range of coming with the intent to dine with her husband and get her sought out envy stares, the perfect poster pureblood couple; the rage of being stood up by the vermin in favor of Ministry ass-kissing; the surprise of an unexpected companion, the ease of talking, the freshness of having an unscripted good time… the girl being a sight for sore eyes, this attraction. No. This couldn't be her attracted to a filthy muggleborn. This was, at most, she being needy for any attention after the consuming rage from earlier. She was repulsed her body reacted so good to so low.
They had been through the appetizers, the hors d'oeuvres, and the fish dish, there was still four courses to go. They weren't even in the half of it. Narcissa debated leaving. But if she stood there proud and patient for hours waiting for her husband, why would she simply walk out now? After the girl put herself to it and extinguished Narcissa's shame without being asked to do so. After her kind heart and equally good will. But what would people talk if they knew the girl was a muggleborn? That brought even more shame than being stood up. Them knowing how disgraced she was after that night. Lucius having that kind of bargain chip in their rotten as is relationship.
Narcissa couldn't stand that. But she also couldn't make herself leave this table… and she didn't even know why.
Apparently her feelings about that last sentence seeped through her usual poker face since the silence extended and Hermione wouldn’t even lift her eyes from her plate.
They stood in that deafening silence through the main course, only the repetitive scraping of forks and knives cutting through the duck à l'orange, and hushed sips to their wine. The main course came and gone without as much as a louder intake of breath, and then there was the salad going the same way as the previous course. They sat across from each other for close to 45 minutes before any of them uttered a single word, the silence so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The waiter approached their table and Hermione asked for a refill of their wine glasses, since a bottle would be too much for this now strained encounter, and then spoke to Narcissa in a timid humorless tone, “Narcissa? Would you mind if we cut the cheese course?”
“No, not at all.” Narcissa responded in a clipped voice. Turning her face from Narcissa and looking to the waiter, the brunette asked for her dessert, to what Narcissa replied, "You can cut my dessert also, thank you."
When dessert arrives after a few more beats of silence, there's not much else Narcissa can do other than watch the girl eat. What proved to be a mistake in itself after Hermione picked up one of the cherries atop her clafoutis by the stem and put it to her mouth. Narcissa watched Hermione's full lips close around the fruit with rapt attention and felt her mouth go dry as a desert and something somersault inside her stomach. Narcisa didn't know what to do. She didn't fidget. But now she was crumpling the napkin in her lap so she wouldn't do just that in her chair. It was getting harder and harder to just dismiss that attraction whatsoever. And when the girl let out a throaty moan after her first bite, Narcissa had to grab for her glass and down at least half of her wine out of sudden desperation. She was not used to not have control over her emotions and what her body was doing absolutely crossed that line.
"I know you dismissed your dessert, but this is really good!" Hermione said tentatively in an amicable voice, "You sure you don't want a bite?" and then she extended her fork.
Wasn't sharing a meal something only teenagers and couples in love do? Wasn't sharing cutlery a bit over it too? And yet Narcissa was very willing to do so. She held Hermione stare for a few seconds, studying if the girl was really okay with that. They’ve gone from having a good time to not looking each other in the face and now this. Narcisa extended her hand and closed her fingers around the offered fork. They stood like that for a second too long, the skin on skin contact hot and a little damp.
Narcissa took the fork and Hermione slid the plate towards the middle of the table. She bit on the flan-like dessert and it was indeed so good she let out a tiny hum of approval, getting a shy smile from the brunette girl in front of her.
The rest of dessert passed, full of shy glances and quick look aways every time their eyes met. While Hermione signaled for the check, Narcissa was going through her night, all the nuances, all the turning points… it was even hard to believe it all happened in the last four to five hours. She didn't even see the time fly that much. She was on a deadlock. Her reason was arguing against her… her what? Her heart?! She had so many different conflicting feelings about the same person and situation, it was making her feel dizzy. The repulsion for the girl blood status was ingrained in her, living with that notion all her life, but at the same time, it was the first time in a long time she felt free, careless, happy, close to sated. And then it sank on her the absolute shame of feeling this good, this want, over something so filthy.
She was so immersed in her own head she almost didn't see the waiter offering the check and Hermione grabbing and handing it back paid in its entirety. "Wait, you can't." She blurted, lost and confused.
"Um, I can, and I just did? It was a treat Narcissa. Me, making it up to you." Hermione said, confusion mixed with a little bit of outrage.
"But how? The price–"
Before Narcissa could finish, Hermione interrupted her raising her hand, "Let me just stop you right there and prevent you say something outrightly stupid and dense. That you will regret. I was already here wasn't I? Also, it's not because a person is a muggleborn that it means they're poor. You should really open up that beautiful head of yours" she almost spit that last part.
Narcissa closed her mouth and watched Hermione stand up and walk past her, a sudden sinking feeling passed through her, until she felt a pair of hands on her chair's backrest ready to pull so she could get up herself. What she just did. They walked up to the restaurant's coat rack close together, Hermione just a step ahead of her. The girl stepped back to her enchanted cloak and clasped it above her breastbone, turning to the floating coat robes waiting for Narcissa to step into them, disenchanting them and holding it up so the older woman could don them. So sickly sweet, smart, funny, and chivalrous.
They walked side by side to the restaurant's exit and Hermione stopped a step below Narcissa, looking up a little fidgety, shy and open, an expression that showed how young she really was, "Um, I really had a great evening." She smiled, "Thank you for letting me keep you company tonight. I hope you have a pleasant return home, it was nice to meet you." And with that the girl turned her back on her and walked out.
Narcissa went down the few steps missing to the sidewalk, and just as Hermione was preparing to apparate, clasped her hand around the girl's wrist and pulled her back. "Wait."
They stared at each other for a few beats, Hermione with a mixed hopeful expression and Narcissa biting on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry. For the shitty things I said… I know there's not really a way to justify what it represents, but I had the greatest night in a long time, and I want to thank you for that" the blond blurted out without taking a single breath between the words. Thinking back on all she felt tonight she remembered an old conversation with Andy, and now she realized how much of a moron she was all those years ago. She had an attraction, she felt a pull… Andy was bloody in love all those years ago, she couldn't even start to compare. And yet, she understood. That amount of prejudice wasn't doing any good right now.
They both are struck by what Narcissa just said, and before their brains can caught up with their tongues, both are speaking at the same time: Hermione asking Narcissa for a date, "Do you want to go on a real date this time?" while Narcissa wishes to extend the night "Do you want to come back home with me?"
Both of them start giggling at their sudden clumsiness, and at that Narcissa notices her hand still clasped around Hermione's wrist, so she slides it down, tentatively intertwining their fingers. "I'd love to go on a planned date this time"
"Yes, I'd like to make this night last a little… longer."
Before taking the scenic route back home, Narcissa made sure to send a Patronus to find Lucius.
"I hope I don't get home to find you anywhere on the Manor's premisses, or you're going to regret how sufferable the start of my evening you made it be."