Chapter Text
Hermione took a last look around her flat so see if she had forgotten anything. Bags, books, Crookshanks, all her research… her dignity and common sense? A voice inside her head supplied. She shook her head to shut it up. After all, this was not the first time these thoughts had crossed her mind, nor would it be the last, she expected. But alas, it was no use, she had made her decision and she would stand by it.
With a sigh acknowledging the finality of the situation, she bent down to grab Crooks’ cage and her magically extended bag and walked out the front door, looking it behind her. She placed the obligatory wards on her flat, making sure it was protected during her absence and turned on the spot to disapparate.
The sight of the large manor made her shiver as she arrived at her destination outside its large front gates. It looked nowhere near as gloomy as it had the last time she had been here, but it brought back unwelcome memories nonetheless. Memories of pain and blood, overwhelming fear and the sound of mad laughter… Again, she shook her head, reminding herself why she was here. You helped defeat the most powerful dark wizard ever known, surely you can do this, she reminded herself and approached the gates. They opened of their own accord as she approached, but she wasn’t surprised. After all, it had been agreed upon that the wards would be altered to permit her.
It was a really nice day for March, the temperature mild and the sun shining brightly. The walk up to the house – which was more of a hike, really, with the sheer expanse of the grounds – led Hermione through the beautiful park that surrounded the manor. She saw no trace of the white peacocks she remembered roaming the grounds back in the day. Not that she missed them; she had found them garish and, to be honest, a little creepy back then. Now there were just large meadows all around, with big trees scattered naturally across them and lining the way. It was really quite beautiful and reminded her a little of the grounds at Hogwarts. She could just about see herself, reading Hogwarts: A History with her back leaning against the bark of one of the oaks, Harry and Ron lying next to her in the grass, discussing the latest Quidditch strategies…
All too soon, however, she was nearing the manor itself. She was glad for the brief reprieve her walk up here had afforded her, but now there was no more pushing it off. Hermione raised her hand to knock on the portal, her bag and Crooks’ cage floating in the air next to her, but again it opened as if expecting her. Had they seen her coming? It was eerie, being let into the mansion without seeing a single soul, it reminded her of the stories of haunted houses the Muggles would tell. Well, not just the Muggles, almost the entire wizarding community still believed the shrieking shack to be haunted, even though she knew for a fact that it wasn’t.
Lost in thought, she crossed the threshold and found herself in a foyer that, to her relief, didn’t resemble the place she remembered at all. Yet she had barely any time to register her surroundings, as all her attention was currently focused on the two inhabitants of the place. One was a tall man with platinum blonde hair, grey eyes and the posture of an aristocrat. The other was his spitting image, only he barely reached the first’s hips, as he was but five years old.
“Granger,” the first greeted, neither his voice nor his face betraying any emotion.
“Malfoy.”
She hadn’t seen him since the war, almost ten years ago. He had changed, obviously, he was taller now, his hair no longer slicked back the way he wore it in school and his frame no longer skinny, but broad. His shoulder, especially. And his chest. He was not wearing robes, the wizarding world having since evolved to adapt to a fashion that was much closer to what Muggles wore, and his attire looked like a fancy, if a little old-fashioned, suit. Hermione had no doubt that it had cost more than the average wizard’s monthly salary, but she had to admit that it accentuated his features quite nicely. Damn, how did he get so in shape? She was startled by her own thoughts and quickly focused on his face instead. It had been a little to pointy for her liking when he was younger, but she had to admit that he had grown into the look. His aristocratic nose and the sharp lines of his face now only accentuated his handsomeness. Wait, handsomeness? Did she just call Draco Malfoy handsome? Or think it, at least? She must be more nervous than she thought. But then: he was handsome, wasn’t he? It didn’t mean that she liked him, but objectively speaking…
Her attention went back to his eyes and she realized that they were no longer as guarded. Instead, there was a trace of – amusement? Embarrassed, she noticed that neither of them had said anything in what must be a minute or so. Oh Merlin, had he noticed her sizing him up? She hoped not, or she would have to find a hole in the ground to sink into, and quick.
Trying to cover up her embarrassment, she diverted her eyes to his son.
“And you must be Scorpius,” she said kindly.
He only stared at her.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” she tried again. “I’m Hermione, as you probably know.”
Malfoy cleared his throat at that. “My son will address you as Miss Granger. You are to be his governess, not a friend, after all.”
She blushed, partly for being reminded of what was to be her position for the foreseeable future, and partly because he had reprimanded her in front of his son. Yet she quickly regained her composure and smiled at them. “Naturally. Well, Scorpius, I’m looking forward to working with you. I’m sure we will get along splendidly.” He still didn’t say anything. His incessant stare was starting to make her uncomfortable as once more, silence fell over the room. Malfoy’s eyes flashed for a second.
“Scorpius.”
The mention of his name alone was enough to have the five year old stand to attention. His face still betrayed wariness for her, but now there was also undeniable respect for his father that bordered on fear. He straightened his back.
“Hello, Miss Granger. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
He didn’t mean a word of that, of course, but Hermione was nevertheless grateful that the silence was broken, even though she wasn’t sure if she liked the way Malfoy interacted with his son. Perhaps it was just her presence that made for the stiff and awkward atmosphere.
Another minute passed.
“Well,” Malfoy said then. “Now that you have introduced yourselves, let me show you to your quarters – Tinky!”
A house elf appeared with a pop. “Yes, Master?” It was wearing a piece of clothing that resembled a robe, clean, and with the Malfoy crest on it. Hermione suppressed an indignant huff at the thought that Malfoy still had house elves. It wouldn’t help to make her situation here more difficult than it already was by getting in a fight with her new employer on her first day. She’d have to save that argument for later.
Malfoy had meanwhile instructed the elf to get Scorpius ready for lunch and the two of them had disappeared to what must be the South wing of the manor. Malfoy himself was already starting up the stairs that led in the direction of the East wing and Hermione hurried to keep up with him. He didn’t spare a glance at her, but started talking as soon as she had caught up.
“Your quarters are in the East wing, Scorpius and I inhabit the South wing of the manor. Lunch will be served at noon, which will give you an hour to settle in and freshen up. Today, there will be no lessons as of yet, I expect you to start working with Scorpius by tomorrow. After lunch you will be given a tour of the house and instructions for your position here. The rest of the afternoon will give you plenty of time to get acquainted with my son. Here we are.”
He stopped in front of a door like any other they had passed on the way.
“Feel free to make yourself at home within your quarters. I just expect there to be neither irreversible changes, nor irreversible damage. Your familiar” – he scowled at Crooks – “is allowed in the grounds and your quarters only. Should you require anything, call for Tinky. She has been instructed to wait on you. I will see you at lunch.”
And with that, he turned around and left, leaving Hermione standing in the corridor, staring after him. He was so controlled and indifferent, so cold! The awkwardness of the last minutes caught up with her and made her, once again, question her life choices as she entered her room.
Only the term ‘quarters’ was indeed much more adequate, as she realized once she saw where she was to live. Right now, she appeared to be standing in a large sitting room. It was about the size of her flat at home, filled with beautiful ancient furniture, and decorated in dark red. She was surprised at the color, somehow having expected to see only green in this house and wondered if it was a coincidence that the room was red, of all colors.
On the left side of the room, there was a large fireplace and a cozy looking rug in front of it. A large sofa, a table, and two armchairs were grouped around it. The far end of the room was lined with windows that looked out onto the backyard of the manor, big double doors leading onto a large balcony. There was also a desk where she could see herself working while looking out into the gardens. On the right side, there was just a door which she supposed led into the bedroom. What delighted her most, though, were the copious empty bookshelves on the walls that just waited to be filled with her private collection.
Mouth agape, she opened the door to the bedroom. It was decorated in the same color scheme. The room was dominated by the large four poster bed which looked big enough to fit an entire family. Here, too, windows dominated the one wall and there was another double door that led to the same balcony that was accessible from the sitting room. The bedroom held a small fireplace, a bookshelf for a small selection of books, a nightstand and the largest wardrobe Hermione had ever seen. She set down her bag and let Crookshanks out of his cage. He immediately started sniffing around the entire room, checking out his new living quarters while Hermione inspected the bathroom.
It was, naturally, also huge. She marveled at the luxurious shower and the small pool of a bathtub for a bit before she returned to the bedroom to unpack. The rooms were beautiful. She stepped outside onto the balcony, letting in the fresh spring air and enjoying the view of the gardens. At this time of year, the winter had not yet retreated, the trees were still without leaves and the flower beds without color, but she imagined it would be gorgeous once everything started blooming. It couldn’t be long now, she thought, noticing the hint of green on the bare trees. A promise of new life that was about to begin. Hermione took in the world preparing for a new beginning, took a deep breath, and braced herself for her own new start.