Work Text:
Hermione pulled at the hem of her dress. She didn’t understand the nerves that flittered through her. She’d been at the manor before, and the war had ended over five years ago. Could it be because this spelled the first time she’d be in the same room as Lucius Malfoy? The man had recently returned home after completing his sentence in Azkaban, and he remained on probation, required to complete community service for another two years, not to mention, he had to attend mandatory counseling sessions with a mind healer.
Hermione wasn’t afraid of facing him. She just… Merlin, this was all Harry’s fault. Why did she ever agree to this?
“Are you ready?” Draco asked, straightening his robe.
“As I’ll ever be,” Hermione grumbled.
“I really appreciate you doing this. Besides, since you’re friends with my mother, tonight should be easy.”
Hermione smiled. Yes. This was the only aspect of this idiotic plan that she liked. She loved spending time with Narcissa, and their unexpected friendship had taken up a center piece in her life for the last year since they’d had to work together at a project within the ministry.
Draco rang the doorbell, and a moment later, a radiant Narcissa Black opened the door.
Hermione couldn’t help smiling, and her heart picked up its pace as it always did whenever she saw the blonde witch.
“Hello, mother,” Draco said and embraced Narcissa who pulled him close before straightening. “You obviously know Hermione. My girlfriend.”
Hermione gave a little wave. “Hello, Narcissa,” she said.
Narcissa froze, and her gaze slowly turned toward Hermione. Her eyes widened, and she paled, almost swaying on her feet.
“Mother!” Draco said, stepping forward and grasping her arm. “Are you all right? Did you eat anything today? Don’t tell me Father left you alone with all the preparations?”
Hermione frowned.
Narcissa patted Draco’s arm. “I’m all right, Dragon. Just a little dizzy spell. No need to worry. I probably didn’t drink enough today,” she said, offering a reassuring smile to her son. Then she shifted her face, and it was like a mask of ice fell over her features. Her beautiful azure eyes that usually shone with such warmth and affection when she gazed at Hermione were fractured shards of glass, and their expression, if Hermione read them right, held nothing but disdain. What happened? Did she time travel to an alternative timeline where they weren’t friends? Her hand shot to her neck where she’d once carried a time turner and only encountered a necklace with an emerald stone, a gift from the woman in front of her, who now stared at her like she was an ant invading her expensive picnic buffet spread.
“Come on in. Welcome to our home,” Narcissa said and stepped to the side, allowing them to enter the manor.
Draco threw a quick glance at Hermione before linking their hands, never noticing the flinch that passed over his mother’s face.
Hermione saw it, though, and once more, confusion reigned supreme. Could Narcissa really hate her for dating her son? Was it acceptable for her to befriend a Muggle-born witch while such a woman remained beneath her son? Hermione straightened her shoulders and marched passed Narcissa into the foyer.
“Where’s Father?”
“In the dining room. He was supposed to set up the table and make sure nothing goes wrong.”
“That’s quite a risk you’re taking,” Draco said, letting go of Hermione’s hand.
“He wanted to feel useful.” Narcissa offered a little shrug.
“Do you mind if I show Hermione my bedroom?”
Narcissa’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
Draco paled, then turned beet-red. “No! I just… I wanted to show it to her.”
“All right. Don’t be long.” Without another glance, Narcissa turned and strode away.
Draco dragged Hermione, whose gaze was stuck on the retreating back of his mother, up the stairs and into the second room on the left.
“What is going on? Did you two fight? I thought you were friends, but my mother seemed a second away from flaying you alive.”
Hermione’s shoulders slumped. “You noticed, huh?”
“Hard to miss. I’m in-tune with my mother’s moods, but Merlin, even Weasley would have picked up on that.”
Hermione sighed.
“What did you do to her?”
“Me? Why do you assume that I did anything? We went to see a movie last weekend and had lunch together a few days ago. We sent several owls this week. Everything was fine. I didn’t do a thing!”
“This makes no sense,” Draco said as he paced the room.
Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Maybe she thinks I’m not good enough for you.”
Draco halted. “What?”
“Maybe she’s fine with me being her friend, but a Muggle-born touching her precious Dragon?”
“Did you lose your mind on the way upstairs? My mother spends more time with you than anyone else, and you constantly do Muggle stuff.”
Hermione pouted.
“I can’t believe this. He said you’d be perfect to… because my parents couldn’t…” Draco gritted his teeth.
“Why are you so afraid of them learning the truth? You’re almost twenty-six years old. Surely you’re allowed to live your life as you see fit.”
Draco stared at her and then scoffed. “You know nothing of pureblood families. I’m the only heir of the Malfoy line. I’m expected to continue our bloodline, not kill it.”
“There are ways for—”
“No!” Draco almost shouted. “They’d never accept it. My mother, maybe, with time, but my father?”
“I thought you’d said he’s changed?”
“He did, but some things never do. The expectations on me to continue the Malfoy line is one of them.”
“But Draco, this is all a lie. Don’t get me wrong, I’m gladly helping you out tonight and maybe even a bit longer if needed, but this isn’t a permanent solution. They will find out eventually. And there’s no way I’m providing you with an heir.”
He grimaced. “Of course not. We just need to get me past my birthday.” He dropped on his childhood bed.
“Why? What’s so special about twenty-six?”
“It’s true adulthood in pureblood families. It’s much harder to get disowned then, unless, of course, you do something horrid.”
“Like what?”
“Marrying a Muggle?”
Hermione huffed and sat down next to Draco.
“So this is about money? You don’t want to get cut off from the Malfoy fortune? You realize you don’t need the money.”
“It’s more than that. It... it’ll make this easier on my parents. They can pretend that their hands are bound because I’m technically a full adult then, so they won’t have to disown me without losing face.”
“But you said your father will never accept you?”
“He won’t, but do you really think my mother will allow him to disown me?”
Hermione laughed, then sobered, remembering the closed-off version of Narcissa she’d encountered downstairs. “Before meeting her today, I’d have said no.” She sighed.
“Stop being so gloomy. I’m sure you’ll work it out. Just focus on being my perfect girlfriend. It’ll at least make my father happy.”
“I kind of doubt your father will be happy to see me as your girlfriend.”
“You suppose he’d prefer the truth?”
“Touché,” Hermione said and sighed again. “Let’s go back down before your mother does murder me.”
“She’d never do it in the open with witnesses.”
“How reassuring,” Hermione drawled and followed Draco downstairs into the dinning room.
By now, other guests had arrived, including Andromeda and Teddy, and an array of people Hermione only knew from sight but not by name.
“Ah, Draco, here you are,” Lucius said, patting a stiff Narcissa’s hands before striding over to his son.
Hermione frowned. Since when were the two of them that close again? Narcissa had moved out after filing for divorce shortly after the war ended, and she had her own flat in London. Hermione knew the two had mended the divide between them and were attempting to repair their relationship to be friends, but did that have to include holding hands?
“Ms. Granger. When Draco told me about his love interest and then refused to share with us who had captured his attention, I should have known it would be quite the surprise.”
“Indeed,” Hermione said, holding Lucius’s gaze, taken aback by the lack of disdain in his eyes. She only read... concern? What was going on here? She had to think of the movie the Body Snatchers her mother was so fond of, but surely that wasn’t the case. Imperio? But who and why?
“Please, sit down,” Lucius said, pulling out a chair for Hermione.
She’d landed in bizarro world, and she’d succeed where Voldemort had failed. She would murder Harry bloody Potter.
“Thank you,” she said, managing to avoid making a grimace and sat down. She shot furtive glances in Narcissa’s direction, who had sat down next to Lucius at the head of the table.
Draco sat next to Hermione and his gaze also kept drifting to his parents.
“I didn’t know you two were dating,” Andromeda said. “I had the impression you had your eye on someone else.”
Both Draco and Hermione flushed and stuttered, attempting to form a reply before sharing a glance and falling silent.
Andromeda grinned.
“Yes, indeed,” Lucius said. “You didn’t have to hide Hermione from us. You know she’s… friends with your mother. What were you afraid of?”
“Oh, nothing. Just… she’s not a pureblood.”
“I see,” Lucius said.
The low murmurs among the other guests fell quiet.
“People are people in the end,” Lucius said and cleared his throat. “We only wish for you to be happy.”
“Hermione makes me happy. We’re serious,” Draco rushed out.
Narcissa’s fork clattered on the table and she rose. “Excuse me. I forgot something,” she said with a tight smile and rushed out of the room. Three concerned gazes followed her.
Hermione had enough. Though likely inappropriate for a dinner among pureblood, she excused herself as well and darted after Narcissa.
She found her in the kitchen. Narcissa stood with hunched shoulders in front of the island. Her hands flat, pressed on top of the counters while her head bowed low.
“What is going on?” Hermione asked.
Narcissa straightened before spinning around. Her eyes once more blazed with cold fury and her face was the same stony mask.
“I could ask you the same thing, Ms. Granger,” she all but spat.
Hermione flinched. “Ms. Granger? After everything we’ve been—”
“Exactly,” Narcissa hissed and stalked closer.
Hermione stumbled back. Heat rising in her neck when Narcissa invaded her personal space.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you are dating my son?!”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
Narcissa’s eyes widened, and she drew back as if slapped. “You didn’t think…” She spun around again, her back to Hermione and her hands akimbo.
“How is it that I can be your friend, but I’m not good enough for your son?”
Narcissa’s hands dropped to her sides and her shoulders slumped. She slowly turned around.
This time, Hermione read pain in blue orbs. She yearned to wash it away.
“You think this is about… that I think you’re not good enough for Draco?”
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “What else could it be? Why are you so angry?”
“Oh, Salazar, help me,” Narcissa muttered, raising her head to the ceiling. She closed her eyes. “I think you better return to the dining room and join your boyfriend, Ms. Granger.”
“No. Not before you tell me what this is about!” Hermione demanded. This time it was she who invaded Narcissa's space.
Narcissa swallowed hard but remained silent.
Hermione tilted her head. Why was Narcissa’s pulse drumming in her neck like this? Was she afraid Hermione would hurt her? She raised her head. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she muttered.
Narcissa scoffed. “You’ll find it’s a little too late for that.” She spun around and fled out of the room, leaving a hapless Hermione behind, wondering what she was missing.
She returned to the dining room table where everyone was busy chatting and eating.
When she sat back down, Andromeda caught her gaze. “Did you talk? Is everything OK again?”
Tears shot into Hermione’s eyes and she blinked them away, furious, before shaking her head.
“I’ll go check on her,” Andromeda mouthed and rose to leave the room.
“I think my parents are getting back together,” Draco said, placing his knife next to his plate.
“What?” Hermione all but shouted and faced Draco.
“Shh, don’t shout.” He frowned.
“I’m not…” She gritted her teeth before lowering her voice. “Shouting. What do you mean, they’ve getting back together? That’s ludicrous.”
Draco tilted his head. “I don’t know. Why not? Wouldn’t it be great? They seem to be getting along. I saw them hold hands earlier.”
Hermione ground so hard on her teeth she worried that she’d crack one. “They are civil. That doesn’t mean they’ll get back together.”
“What’s it to you, anyway?” Draco said.
“I…” Her brows furrowed. “I want Narcissa to be happy.”
“And you don’t think reuniting with her husband could accomplish that?”
“No! They divorced for a reason.”
“Yes, but things are different now. He paid the price and is back now. He’s different.”
Hermione grumbled and folded her arms in front of her chest. Yes. Harry Potter was dead. The boy who lived would die. A lot.
***
“Why are you standing out in the cold?” Andromeda asked, joining her little sister on the balcony.
“It matches my mood.” Narcissa gazed into the garden. She hated the manor, but she still felt attached to its grounds. Perhaps because the scenery wasn’t as tainted as all the walls inside. And now Hermione and her son, of all people, had added to the misery she had encountered in these cursed halls.
“You’ve always been dramatic.” Andromeda sighed.
Narcissa straighten before she turned. “Dramatic? Hermione is in love with my son!”
“She’s dating him.”
“That’s what I’m saying. If they’re dating, they are in love.” Narcissa cringed. “I can’t believe this. Of course I can. I’ve been blind and dumb to ever hope for a different outcome. Still. I didn’t expect the worst to happen.”
“Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”
“Are you insane? She’s dating my son!”
“So it seems.”
“So it is!”
“When did they have time to date?”
“Excuse me?”
“How much time have you spent with Hermione over the last year?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t keep track.”
“You spend most weekends together and usually see each other twice or even three times during the week, yes?”
“So?” Narcissa didn’t understand why she suddenly felt defensive. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She didn’t know about Hermione and… She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. This was the stuff of nightmares.
“You also owl each other regularly?”
“You know all that. What is your point?”
“I’m just wondering when Hermione had the time to date anyone.”
Narcissa nodded. “You’re right. You’re saying she’s leading him on? She’s going to break my Dragon’s heart, too?”
“What? No! That’s not what I was saying.” Andromeda gazed at the sky. “Merlin, help me,” she muttered.
“That’s unacceptable,” Narcissa snapped and rushed off the balcony.
***
“Hermione, may I have a word, please?” Narcissa asked, having joined the rest of the guests gathered in the parlor, who were mingling and chatting while trays full of refreshments and snacks floated nearby. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
“Of course,” Hermione said, nodded at Draco and followed Narcissa out of the room and into the library.
“What are you doing to my son?”
“Why are you getting back together with Lucius?” they said at the same time.
“What?”
“Excuse me?” once more uttered at the same moment.
Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why in Merlin’s name would I go back to Lucius? We talked about this. Extensively.”
“But Draco said—”
“He apparently doesn’t share everything with me anymore, but I can assure you, whatever he said about that, it’s wrong. I’m not getting back together with Lucius.”
“Good. Good,” Hermione mumbled while nodding to herself. Then she raised her head and glared at Narcissa. “Wait. What do you think I’m doing to Draco?”
“You’re leading him on! Why would you do that? He deserves better than—”
“I knew it!” Hermione shrieked; her finger pointed at Narcissa as she crowded her space. “I’m not good enough for your precious boy.”
“Don’t talk about my son like this!”
“Like what?”
“It’s not even about that. If you… if you are happy…” Narcissa trailed off, her shoulders slumping. It seemed like all air had left her body.
“Narcissa, why are you so angry at me? I thought we were friends.”
“Friends,” Narcissa whispered and closed her eyes while crossing her arms in front of her chest. “This is my fault. I read things wrong and—”
“Read what wrong?” Hermione asked, having stepped closer.
Narcissa startled when she raised her head and appeared to realize how close they stood.
One of Hermione’s hands reached out and with shaking fingers she caught one of Narcissa’s tears as it tumbled down her cheeks. “Why are you hurt?”
Narcissa closed her eyes and laughed, but the sound of her laughter, the noise that usually swelled and warmed the heart in Hermione’s chest, didn’t carry a single trace of mirth. Instead, it only held anguish and despair. Hermione longed to pull Narcissa close and console her.
“I made an error, Hermione. And error of judgment, and it’s my own fault. I’ll have to live with it, and while I thought that you’d trusted me—”
“I do. With my life,” Hermione rushed out and grasped Narcissa’s hand and pulled it to her chest.
Narcissa’s mouth opened, and her gaze dropped to her hand, cradled in Hermione’s hand on her chest.
Hermione’s heart drummed much like she had once pounded on the percussion set her aunt had given her for Christmas when she was five. The gift had caused a huge fight between her parents and her aunt. Heat crawled up her neck and her stomach dropped as she got lost in Narcissa’s open gaze. She loved her. Merlin, help her, but she loved this smart, beautiful, proud, and kindhearted woman, who carried her heart shrouded from view, from touch, who’d built iron cages around its battered, bruised flesh to avoid more pain, more loss. And here Hermione stood, having pretended to date Narcissa’s son after all… after all that happened between them.
The last year flashed before her eyes, their lunch dates that became longer and eventually included walks in the park, leaving the ice cream parlor, laughing in the sudden bout of rain, watching movies together on Hermione’s battered old couch, and always, Hermione had been filled with the urge to sit closer to Narcissa, to breathe in her scent and… How could she have been so blind?
“I’m so sorry,” she stuttered, aghast when Narcissa’s face crumbled at her words. Knowing of no other way, Hermione surged forward and grasped Narcissa’s blonde locks before claiming the blonde witch’s lips in a tender kiss.
Narcissa groaned, her body going slack and sinking against Hermione. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she opened her mouth to allow Hermione’s tongue entrance.
Hermione licked into Narcissa’s mouth and pulled her closer while getting lost in the heat and taste of Narcissa’s mouth. Delicious. Why hadn't they been doing that for ages? She needed more.
Narcissa gasped and stumbled back, pushing Hermione away from her. Tears streamed down her face. “What are you doing? You’re dating my son!” she shrieked, and rushing forward, she drummed her fists on Hermione’s chest.
Hermione caught and stilled her hands before pulling a weeping Narcissa closer. She kissed her hair. “I’m not,” she mumbled and closed her eyes. Draco might murder her, and she wasn’t concerned about Harry because she’d kill him the instant she next saw him, but she couldn’t do this to Narcissa for a second longer. If only Hermione had understood her feeling earlier, she could have saved them both a world of pain.
“Draco is dating Harry, but he’s scared you’ll disown him, so he asked me to play his girlfriend until he’s twenty-six.”
Narcissa stilled, then raised her head. This time, there fire licked in her irises, and Hermione stood awestruck by the sheer beauty facing her. “Excuse me? You did what?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re sorry? Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through tonight?”
“To be fair, I didn’t realize I’m in love with you until the moment right before I kissed you.”
“You… What did you say?”
“I’m in love with you, Narcissa Black, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to see that, and I’m endlessly sorry for having hurt you. I just wanted to help Draco and Harry, and—”
Narcissa placed her index finger on Hermione’s lips. Silencing her. “Hush.” This time, Narcissa’s eyes seemed to have widened in wonder. “Give me a second to bask in this moment,” she whispered and closed her eyes.
Hermione held still and just stood there.
Then Narcissa opened her eyes again. “I love you, Hermione.”
A smile spread over Hermione's face.
“But what is that nonsense with Draco turning twenty-six?”
“Isn’t that when pureblood wizards become full adults and you can no longer disown them that easily?”
Narcissa laughed. “I’ve never heard of that.”
Hermione gritted her teeth. Draco Malfoy would join his boyfriend Harry Potter in death. Though killing Narcissa’s only child or his significant other might put a dent in their budding relationship. She sighed. “Fine. They both get to live.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’d earlier decided that I’ll kill Harry for asking me to do this, and just now when I realized that they made this all up, I decided that Draco should join Harry in death, and…”
Narcissa’s eyes widened.
“But then I realized that killing your child or his boyfriend isn’t the best way of starting our relationship.”
Narcissa laughed. “No, it isn’t. I love it when you babble. It’s adorable.”
Hermione pouted.
“And that, too. Even better, now I get to do this,” Narcissa whispered, her eyes dropping to Hermione’s lips before she leaned in and sucked her lower lip into her mouth.
Hermione moaned and clutched Narcissa’s dress before deepening the kiss. Narcissa’s hot tongue stroking into her mouth made her dizzy with desire. Hermione pulled Narcissa flush against her body before breaking the kiss and panting. “We should probably stop, or we’ll end up caught in a compromising position.”
Narcissa chuckled. “True, but at least that would mean I’d get to have you.”
Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “You will get to have me. As soon and as often as you want,” Hermione pressed out, for the first time noticing Narcissa’s blown pupils.
“Is that so?” Narcissa breathed with a little pleased smirk painted across her lips.
Maybe Hermione would send those two meddling idiots a gift basket instead.
The End