Work Text:
They’d both been aware that one of these days, they were going to have this conversation. When Hermione had asked Narcissa if they could talk, late at night after a long day of paperwork and lobbying within the Ministry, it seemed Narcissa already knew what she was going to say.
“You should probably break up with me before I become Minister for Magic,” Hermione began, and the lack of surprise on Narcissa’s face startled her a little. For only a short moment she became scared that maybe Narcissa had been waiting for them to break up, for the relationship to end without Narcissa herself appearing to be the one who did it. That thought was almost immediately replaced with the understanding that it was far more likely they’d just come to the same conclusion.
It made sense, after all.
Hermione had been in the running to become the next Minister for Magic for months now, though she had unofficially been considered for the position and had been preparing for it for years. Earlier this week she had received the confirmation that by next summer, the job would be hers.
She was appalled by the way the leader of wizarding Britain was chosen, done solely by people who already worked at the Ministry or happened to have enough fame or money to influence others’ decisions. It was completely undemocratic and made it far too easy for corruption to occur, but over the years her friends had convinced her that perhaps, if she couldn’t change it from her previous position, she might as well use it to better the world.
That wasn’t what mattered right now, Hermione reminded herself, and she looked at Narcissa again. She’d already decided to pursue the position, she’d gotten it. Now she just had to make sure she handled it as gracefully as she could without breaking any hearts.
Narcissa, still looking outrageously calm, raised a single eyebrow at Hermione as she looked at her questioningly. “And why might that be, if I may be so bold to ask?”
Hermione began to suspect she’d been wrong about her guess towards Narcissa’s feelings. Maybe Narcissa hadn’t come to the same conclusion she had. She certainly didn’t seem to be taking Hermione’s offer too seriously. This didn’t hold Hermione back from continuing her point exactly as she’d prepared.
“I’m going to be spending a lot of time focusing on just about everything that’s not you,” she said, and Narcissa chuckled.
“I do so delight in your blunt way of stating the matters at hand, darling,” she commented, before waving her hand as though to say go on, then.
Hermione laughed with her, wondering how dull it would be to come home after a long day of working as the Minister to a flat where Narcissa did not live. “You thrive off positive attention, and you deserve to receive it far more often than I will be able to promise you after I assume my role as Minister for Magic. In due time, you will feel like I’ve put our relationship on a backburner, and you will most likely be right. Eventually you’ll grow to hate me for it, and we’ll break up, and it will be an ugly split because neither of us handles rejection and pain very well.”
Narcissa tilted her head slightly, a teasing smile on her lips, and said “that is a lovely way of calling me an attention-starved cunt.”
“That’s not-”
“I know. Anything else?”
Hermione shrugged, more and more feeling like Narcissa wasn’t half as concerned about the obviously impending doom as she was. “Long story short, I’ll end up breaking your heart. I’d rather you break up with me before that happens.”
Narcissa pondered it for a moment and then determinedly shook her head. She stood up from where she’d been resting on the sofa, readjusting the light green night robes she was wearing. She stood in front of Hermione with a smile on her face. “Alright. I see where you’re coming from. May I speak now?”
Hermione nodded.
“The first time I fell in love was with a boy I swore I’d marry. When we were old enough he lost himself in grief, alcohol, and a cruelty I’d never known him capable of. I married another, and did not think I would ever get past that heartbreak.”
Lifting up her hand to Hermione’s cheek, Narcissa stroked it gently and tucked one of her curls behind Hermione’s ear. Hermione remained silent. She’d heard the story of Narcissa and her first boyfriend, Rabastan Lestrange, before already, though she never loved to be reminded of it.
“By the time I genuinely fell in love with my husband, dear Lucius had long grown tired of me. Embarrassing as that is to admit, it broke my heart.” Hermione hadn’t heard that before, as they didn’t often discuss the details of either of their previous marriages, but she imagined it’d hurt quite a bit indeed. “Eventually, after the first war had ended years earlier, it seemed to me we’d finally found the right time. I believe in twenty years of marriage, those three were genuinely happy. You know, of course, how it all ended.”
Hermione did remember the headlines, splashed in the Daily Prophet as the whole wizarding world could follow the infamous divorce of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. It’d happened right around the time Hermione herself had gotten married to Ron, and she hated to remind herself of the fact that the two of them had laughed at the papers’ takes.
When she was going through her own divorce, amicably as it’d been, she couldn’t imagine the humiliation of having it all detailed in the papers. There’d been some articles, a bit of speculation, as there was regarding most things that she, Harry, and Ron, get up to, but nothing compared to the scandal that’d been the Malfoys.
“Yes,” she affirmed, a regretful look in her eyes that Narcissa instantly melted away with a kiss on her cheek. ”I don’t know how it’s relevant here, though. I’m not like them.”
Narcissa shook her head. “I would never suggest you are,” she said firmly. “You are so much better than they could ever dream to be, Hermione Granger. They broke my heart, it’s true, and it’s humiliating to admit they had that power over me. But you are nothing like them.”
“Hermione,” she continued, quietly but not allowing the younger witch to interrupt her. Hermione didn’t want to. “My heart has been broken plenty of times before. But never by someone as worthy of it as you are. To have it broken, one final time, by Hermione Granger, Minister for Magic, would be my privilege, my honour, and my pleasure.”
“I don’t know if I can be a good partner and fix the world,” Hermione told her quietly, and Narcissa nodded in understanding. They hadn’t discussed previous marriages in detail, but they’d spoken enough for Narcissa to know that it’d been problems exactly like that that had ultimately sealed the deal for her and Ron.
Hermione had never held it against him, but it hurt that she struggled to believe it might be different this time.
“So you focus on fixing the world, darling,” Narcissa told her. “And difficult as it might be, trust me to take care of us.”
Hermione looked at her, mouth agape as she tried and failed to find words to say in response. Narcissa took her hand a little tighter in her own, kissing it lightly. “If you wish to end things between us, I will go. But I love you, I love your ambitions, and I love watching you solve the world’s problems. I have no intention of breaking up with you, my darling. I will take far too great a pleasure in watching you conquer the world with me right by your side.”
Hermione nodded silently, only half-convinced but finding it in herself to recognise that that was almost entirely her own self-doubt. She’d warned Narcissa, and Narcissa had clearly understood and then cast aside the warning. Hermione loved her too much to push the matter further.
“I love you,” she told Narcissa instead. They shared a brief kiss and Hermione wrapped one of her arms around Narcissa’s waist. She smiled confidently now. ”And you do look like you were made to be a Minister’s wife.”
It sounded far more backwards than she’d meant it to, Hermione realised after the words had left her, but Narcissa only laughed. She wasn’t wrong , after all. Narcissa had had decades to perfect the look of a perfect wife . There was so much more to her than just that, but Narciss had never made it a secret that she enjoyed a position like it. To a degree.
“You jumped from breaking up all the way to marriage?” Narcissa asked, tugging Hermione closer towards her. “ Minister’s wife ,” she repeated, making Hermione blush. “I can barely wait. It’s only been my dream since I was six years old.”
“You’re being sarcastic,” Hermione accused, and Narcissa nodded.
“Absolutely I am. But I’m speaking honestly when I say I can’t wait to be your wife, Hermione. Minister or not.”
Narcissa didn’t make Hermione come up with a response to that when she kissed her again, and for this Hermione was grateful. But even if she could not think of words to say to Narcissa, she knew with absolute certainty that one day, preferably in the near future, the witch she kissed goodnight before bed would be, indeed, the Minister’s wife. Her wife.