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Chapter Text

Hermione had no choice; Narcissa was treating her with a grace and politeness that was unsettling, but her ease in doing so was even more disconcerting.

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione breathed as she took a seat in the chair opposite from the witch. “I didn’t realize that you were planning the ceremony for Blaise and Theo.”

“Yes, well,” Narcissa smiled softly, folding hands into her lap and looking fully at Hermione. “I’m quite well known for throwing a lovely party, even if they insist on keeping it small. Ah, apologies,” she waved her wand to put out the cigarette, “a truly nasty habit, but I’m afraid that a witch must have her vices, and I’ve never been one for the drink. As I don’t have a husband to demand I put them out, I find they go down much more smoothly these days.”

“It’s- it’s okay,” Hermione insisted, truly at a loss for how to speak to Narcissa. She was undeniably charming, but she had the same air of cunning that all Slytherins seemed to possess, speaking words that seemed cloaked in meaning.

“Now, Miss Granger, they’ve chosen a color scheme so I just need to take your measurements. We've chosen a few dresses that you and Pansy will be free to choose between,” Narcissa looked back down to her notes, a smile playing on her lips as she turned the leather binder toward Hermione. Sure enough, a handful of (of course) emerald green dresses were sketched across the page, each with the name of a seamstress to the bottom right; they were truly beautiful. Each had long, flowing lines with different bodices and shoulder styles. One in particular caught Hermione’s gaze; it had a long silhouette, a silk dress with a layer of delicate tulle overtop and a sweetheart neckline. The tulle straps fell off at the shoulders, leaving the model’s collar bones exposed along with an open back, and there was a rather sexy but still modest slit in the front. Narcissa followed Hermione’s gaze and smiled.

“Well, that takes care of it, then, doesn’t it? Up with you, let’s get your measurements,” Narcissa snapped her fingers, but not unkindly. When Hermione stood a measuring tape zoomed from its place on the table and began winding around varying parts of her body, nudging her arms upward.

“Now, I’ve taken the liberty of creating a set of corsages and boutonnieres, all approved by Blaise, of course-” Narcissa turned the binder toward Hermione once more as the measuring tape continued its work. “Might I be so bold- Draco has chosen his boutonniere, and I’ve made a lovely matching pair,” she pointed to the page, where a matching set of cream and gold corsages and boutonnieres were displayed, and there was a sly smile playing on her lips. Hermione stumbled slightly, staring at Narcissa with wide eyes as she took her seat once more.

“Oh, I-” Really, what could she say? Narcissa was still watching her with a sharp gaze, carefully laying the binder back on the table.

“Oh, MIss Granger, you highly underestimate how familiar I am with the life of my only son,” her laugh was a tinkling little sound, and Hermione didn’t know whether to join her out of hysterics or simply cringe at the wave of embarrassment she felt. “Now, I won’t intrude so far as to ask you what has happened between the two of you and why my son is rather insufferable to be around these last weeks,” she took a delicate sip of tea, still staring at Hermione over the cup. “I will, however, ask how you intend to fix it, where the matter of my son’s heart is concerned.”

“I- Mrs. Malfoy, I must insist-”

“Please call me Narcissa,” she interrupted with a kind smile, though her eyes were glinting as she watched Hermione stumble over her own words.

“ Narcissa, I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding here, Draco and I are not- we were not- we shared a single kiss, immediately after which he very clearly decided that he was not interested,” Hermione’s face was burning with embarrassment. Certainly, Narcissa Malfoy would not approve of Draco’s interest in her, so Hermione had to tell enough of the truth to be convincing while still protecting Draco from the harsh opinions of his mother.

“Excuse my lack of couth, Miss Granger, but I do believe that was not the only kiss that you two have shared in your years,” Narcissa raised a neat eyebrow, and Hermione felt another stab of embarrassment at the implications of her words. “Or do you believe Draco’s memories of his sixth year to be false?” 

“No- no, I would say not,” Hermione whispered, a mix of shock and embarrassment heating her thoroughly. She didn’t know what Narcissa’s aim was, but she found herself desperately wishing that she could escape the conversation entirely.

“Miss Granger, I’m sure you’re aware that my son received extensive training on the art of Occlumency during his sixth year?” Narcissa was now leafing idly through the binder, a clear attempt at nonchalance despite the smile playing at her lips and the way her eyes were burning when her gaze met Hermione’s. Hermione could only nod in response.

“Perhaps you do not know, then, that the art of Occlumency and Legilimency both are rather prevalent in the lines of the Black family, dating back as far as the 1500s,” Narcissa smiled. “My family is quite adept at the magic of the mind; I myself am a powerful, nearly unmatched, Legilimens with no traditional training. I have been for as long as I can remember.” She paused then, and it had the desired effect within seconds; Hermione’s face flushed once more with the realization that she had seen her past with Draco, rather than been told about it.

“Now, I must assure you that I do not regularly make a habit of entering the minds of others without explicit consent, but the nature of my son’s turmoil during that time in his life left me helpless. A mother’s love, Miss Granger, knows no bounds, and I had to be sure that Draco wasn’t keeping anything of… importance from me. I’m sure you know what a surprise it was, of course, to see flashes of his time spent with Hermione Granger, of all people, hidden away in forgotten corners of Hogwarts Castle,” Narcissa was speaking quietly, and there was a wistfulness to her voice that caught Hermione’s full attention.

“My son is a very private and very strong-willed young man, Miss Granger. He gets it honestly; Malfoy men are nothing if not hard to read and hard to control. Except, of course,” she smiled coyly, “when it comes to the women that they love. Malfoy men are endlessly devoted to the women of their lives… or men,” she added thoughtfully. “Though they are quite hesitant to divulge their innermost desires unless they can be absolutely sure that the feelings are returned… I understand, of course, that the past does not bode well for placing your trust in one another, but… if I may be so forward, Miss Granger- my son loves you very much, and I suspect that he has for some time. I expect that his fears are largely around whether or not I will approve, which is another matter entirely, and whether or not he deserves you, a notion which I find ridiculous.”

Hermione was silent for what felt like ages, tears swimming in her eyes as she stared down at the binder full of linen samples and beautiful sketches of wedding aisles and centerpieces. Finally, the question that she wanted to ask most of all came to her lips, coming out despite the lump in her throat, “Would you? Approve, that is?” She willed herself to meet Narcissa’s gaze, and was shocked to find the witch smiling softly.

“Oh, Miss Granger,” Narcissa gave a delighted little laugh then, not noticing the look of utter bewilderment that Hermione gave her. “Of course I would approve,” she waved a hand, but seemed to realize that Hermione needed a further explanation. “My family has stood on the wrong side of history for far too long, and all that I have ever wanted is for my only child to be safe and happy. Draco has experienced far too much heartache at the hands of his parents for me to deny him his happiness outright,” her smile turned sad, and Hermione watched in surprise as Narcissa dabbed a tear from her eye.

“And Lucius? You think that Lucius would approve of his son getting involved with me? With a…” she broke off, unable to even speak the word.

“My dear,” Narcissa huffed a frustrated laugh, the least graceful she’d been all afternoon. “Might I remind you that my husband is locked in Azkaban for the rest of his life? Wizarding law states that I, the matron of the Malfoy line, am in charge of the estate until Draco decides to take over himself,” she was smiling softly, eyes twinkling as she watched Hermione’s expression change. It was clear what Narcissa’s words meant: Of course Lucius wouldn’t approve, but it doesn’t bloody well matter because I’m the one in charge. They were both quiet for a few moments, watching one another with curiosity, until Narcissa released a breath, somehow pleased with whatever she’d found in Hermione’s gaze.

“Now, I’ll put you down for the matching corsage, you’re free to go, Miss Granger,” Narcissa gave an elegant twist of her hand, writing Hermione’s name next to Draco’s on the parchment, and then gave Hermione a smile of finality. “Oh, and Miss Granger?” Hermione turned from the door, “You should come visit us at the Manor this summer, the gardens are sure to be a sight to behold this year.”

Hermione’s hands were shaking as she made her way back down the hall to the solarium, mind desperately trying to make sense of… whatever it was, that had just happened with Narcissa Malfoy. When she burst back through the bifold doors, Draco was the only person in the room, bent over a book with a cigarette held between the fingers of his left hand.

“Oh not you, too,” Hermione sniffed in frustration, surging forward to pour herself another drink and slumping into the couch next to him.

“Hermione- I promise you, I had no idea that they were going to corner you like that,” Draco grimaced apologetically, leaning forward to stub his cigarette out.

“It’s alright,” Hermione huffed a humorless laugh, turning to Draco after taking a long sip of her drink. “Your mother was actually quite… lovely.”

A crease appeared between his eyebrows at that, searching Hermione’s face for any sign of her lying, any sign that said she was simply being polite. His eyes were blessedly still clear, no signs of occlusion despite the nervous way he thumbed at the pages of his book.

“Lovely?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow, his voice wavering slightly. “She was lovely.”

“Quite so,” Hermione couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. “You and I are going to be wearing matching corsages and boutonnieres to the wedding, she insisted.” They were both quiet for a moment, and Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco as he mulled over her words with a look of pure bewilderment.

“Matching-” he repeated faintly, reaching for another drink himself and taking a long gulp. “My mother is insisting that we wear matching flowers to the wedding of our friends.”

“They’re quite beautiful, gorgeous little cream roses with eucalyptus and baby’s breath,” Hermione was rambling nervously, refusing to meet his gaze. “I knew your mother was a talented planner, but she’s outdone herself with this.”

“Yes, well,” Draco swallowed heavily, “She told me outright that it’s practice for my own wedding, Theo and Blaise are practically her own children at this point anyway.”

“Where are they, by the way?”

“Probably snogging in the kitchens, if I had to guess, they’ve been gone nearly twenty minutes,” Draco shrugged. Hermione couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, but they both burst into laughter when their gazes met, realizing it was very likely that’s exactly what they were doing. Their laughter seemed to ease a bit of the tension, even as they were quiet for a moment afterward.

“I should catch my mother, before she leaves,” Draco stood suddenly, turning to Hermione with an unreadable expression. “I’ll, er- see you back at Hogwarts, I suppose.”

“Okay,” Hermione breathed with a nod, watching him retreat through the door and feeling her heart beating thunderously in her chest. She only spent another hour with Blaise and Theo, despite their whinging that she was perfectly free to spend the night in their guest room, and Hermione insisted she Floo into Hogsmeade and make the walk back up to the castle instead of using the probably illegal path straight into Hogwarts. Town was quiet, a few people walking about, though it appeared The Three Broomsticks was filled to the brim as usual on the weekends.

When she finally made her way back into the castle and up into her quarters, an overwhelming feeling of loneliness stole over her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have anyone that she could visit or spend her time with, just that the overwhelming happiness of Theo and Blaise left her feeling, selfishly, sorry for herself.

A knock at the door caused her to jump, and when she pulled the door open, a small part of her wasn’t surprised to see Draco standing there. His chest was heaving with breaths, wild eyes meeting Hermione’s and causing her heart to leap up into her throat at the sight of his urgency.

“Draco- is everything oka-” she was cut off by Draco reaching out and pulling her into his chest, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. She didn’t respond immediately, head fuzzy with emotion, but when his hands cupped her jaw it seemed to bring her back to life. She raised a hand to his hair, threading her fingers in it and relishing in the fact that she was mussing it up, and her other hand rested on his chest as their lips worked furiously against one another’s.

“What are you doing for break?” he rasped against her mouth when they finally broke apart, Hermione’s neck craning to reach him.

“I- what? Easter break?” she frowned in confusion, trying to get her wits about her before he left her breathless once more.

“Yes, Hermione, Easter break,” Draco chuckled, a low sound that pulled at something low in Hermione’s stomach.

“I, erm- I don’t have plans,” Hermione’s voice wavered when Draco cupped a hand behind her head, rubbing his fingers into her skull and meeting her gaze despite their foreheads being pressed together.

“Lovely, that means you’ll be joining me at the Manor,” Draco captured her lips once more against his smiling mouth, carding a hand through her curls and pulling her even more tightly against himself.

“I- what?” she breathed in confusion when he parted for a breath, his eyes half-lidded and still smiling softly.

“You’ll be joining me at the Manor,” he repeated softly, brushing a finger across her cheek and searching her face with clear affection. “I’m sorry for being a prat, a fact which has been made entirely too clear by the people in my life- people who are quite fond of you, it seems.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Hermione breathed, eyes fluttering closed at his affectionate stroking. “You are a Malfoy, after all.”

Draco laughed then, a beautiful, unbidden laugh that crinkled his eyes and lit up his face.

-----------------------------------

“Bloody fucking hell, what am I doing?” Theo hissed as he watched himself in a full-length mirror, tugging nervously at his cufflinks and batting away Narcissa’s fingers as she tried to pin a cluster of flowers to his lapel.

“Theodore,” she said in warning, “I will stick you with this pin if you don’t hold still.”

“I didn’t expect you to be the one who was nervous,” Hermione admitted with a warm smile, catching Theo’s gaze in the mirror.

Theo looked handsome beyond what was reasonable; he was wearing an all-black suit, the only splash of color coming from the cream roses now pinned onto his lapel. His jaw was sharp and handsome with a manicured stubble, accentuated by his curly, fluffy hair that almost rivaled Harry’s. His bright eyes were dancing and cutting nervously to Hermione, his hands twiddling nervously with the buttons of his jacket as he watched Narcissa fret over him.

“Yes, well, I’m prone to momentary lapses of insanity when it comes to love,” Theo huffed with a roll of his shoulders, reaching out and taking Hermione’s hand in his. “Better go make sure he isn’t second-guessing, love, I’m gonna make a mess of this beautiful rug if I have to endure another moment.”

“Oh Theo,” Hermione smiled up at him, perching herself on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before turning to make her way across the hall. Narcissa caught her gaze, a mischievous sort of smile on her face before turning back to the wizard standing in the center of the room. 

“I’m here to ensure that Theo will have a handsome wizard standing in wait at the end of the aisle,” Hermione announced her presence with a knock, relieved when she poked her head in to see Blaise, Draco, and Neville lounging happily on the chaises scattered across the room. They all had flowers pinned to their lapels as well, though each had their shirts untucked and jackets unbuttoned. 

“He’s scared I’m going to run away, is he?” Blaise grinned and sat up at Hermione’s arrival, though his expression softened at her words. “You tell him as long as Narcissa hasn’t strung me up by the balls-”

“Blaise,” Draco huffed an embarrassed laugh, reaching to slap Blaise’s chest before standing to meet Hermione halfway across the room. “You look lovely,” he whispered as he pulled her close, hungry eyes looking her over more times than necessary with their friends watching.

“Your mother has good taste,” Hermione laughed, reaching up to press a chaste kiss against his lips that he deepened with no hesitation. “It’s too bad I can’t wear this to Harry and Ginny’s renewal, I’m quite fond of this dress.”

Harry and Ginny had their official ceremony coming up in just a few short weeks, perplexed when Hermione requested that she be given a plus one to the occasion. They’d been married for almost five years at that point, though they’d skipped over having a traditional wedding and settled for an emotional and tiny ceremony in the back garden of The Burrow; the losses of the war had still been too heavy to bear at that point. Now, nearing five years, they were eager to share their love in a renewal ceremony, this time throwing the wedding they’d never gotten to. 

“Faux pas, Granger, my mother would have a heart attack,” Draco laughed freely, brushing a hand over her curls and then running a finger over her collarbone. “Besides, I think everyone will be so shocked at your having me on your arm that they wouldn’t even notice.”

“Alright, alright-” Hermione flushed when Draco’s fingers crept to the slit of her dress, brushing softly against the bare skin of her inner thigh. “I’m off to ensure Theo that he’ll have a husband, after all. Please be ready in ten minutes, Narcissa will absolutely-” her pleading was cut off by Neville’s laugh.

“Right scary, isn’t she? You’re barking to voluntarily take her as a mother-in-law,” Neville laughed again, clearly a bit tipsy from their pre-wedding party favors, but Hermione didn’t miss the way that Draco’s eyes cut dangerously to Neville, his jaw flexing anxiously. and forcing the wizard to silence.

Hermione left with a nervous smile, trying desperately not to make assumptions over Neville’s comments. Within twenty minutes, Hermione and Draco were making their way down the aisle to stand with Theo, each giving the clearly nervous wizard a squeeze of the hand.

The ceremony was small by Narcissa Malfoy’s standards, perhaps thirty guests in total had RSVP’d to attend, and Hermione couldn’t hide her smile as Neville and Pansy followed after them, whispering nervously to one another over the many sets of eyes glued to their path down the aisle. Neville placed a sweet kiss to her cheek when they reached the end, and Draco winked knowingly when Hermione’s gaze met his in question.

As soon as Blaise appeared, his dark skin practically glowing against the emerald green jacket, Theo’s shoulders sagged in relief, and Hermione was certain she saw a tear slip down his pronounced cheeks. The ceremony was quite fast, and Hermione watched in awe as Blaise’s magic was entwined with Theo’s, sure to secure a future of happiness for them both. Once their fate was sealed with a rather seductive and showy kiss, tears still streaming down each of their faces, Hermione was clapping along with the crowd and crying tears of her own despite the way they had her laughing.

“Oh, dear Merlin, let me catch my breath,” Theo sagged into a chair next to Draco, taking a long drink from a flute of champagne that had been Hermione’s, having spent the last hour dancing. “I’ll tell you what, this marriage business is already getting old, if he’s going to expect me to perform like this every day,” Theo was bantering in faux annoyance, but laughed in delight when Blaise wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek. Blaise began whispering in Theo’s ear, then, both their expressions morphing into something that was entirely too indecent for their being a room full of other people.

“Alright, alright, for Salazar’s sake, my mother is here,” Draco rolled his eyes, turning to Hermione as she reached for a replacement for her champagne. “Would you like to dance, then? I can’t bear another moment around their whispering.”

He pulled Hermione onto the dance floor just as a slower song began, many of the guests clearing the floor and watching them with curious eyes. They weren’t exactly public with their relationship, or at least they hadn’t had a reason or opportunity to be until Theo and Blaise’s wedding. Draco was, of course, a graceful and wonderful dancer; he guided Hermione through even the more complicated steps and spins in the particular dance that he was leading, all with a soft smile on his face.

“This is lovely,” Hermione breathed softly when they were pressed against one another again, though she didn’t know if she was referring to the gardens decorated for the wedding or to the way that Draco held her.

“Mmm,” Draco hummed in agreement, pressing his cheek into Hermione’s hair and allowing his hand to rest on her lower back, so close to her backside it made her shiver. “They’re going to be quite happy, aren’t they?”

They gazed over to Blaise and Theo, who were still whispering with one another but now laughing in mirth, clearly gossiping about the attendants. Their hands were intertwined, and they gazed at one another with such strong adoration that it brought tears to Hermione’s eyes.

“Yes, they’re going to be very happy,” Hermione agreed with a watery smile, turning back to meet Draco’s gaze. She was used to his eyes being clear, nowadays, his expression open and warm more often than not, and some days it still stole the breath from her that he was so forthcoming since the day he’d snogged her breathless in the doorway to her quarters at Hogwarts. He reached up to brush a curl from her face before grabbing her chin with his thumb and forefinger and bringing her into a slow, affectionate kiss. If anyone at all reacted to the sight of Hermione Granger kissing Draco Malfoy, she didn’t hear it, could only focus on the way that Draco’s hands gripped her protectively and his mouth worked gently on hers.

“I love you,” Draco breathed as they parted, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes. It was the first time he’d ever spoken the words out loud, and to hear him saying them with such conviction left Hermione breathless.

“I love you too,” she said with a wavering voice, swallowing the lump of emotion that was suddenly in her throat. “Good thing, because I think our photo’s going to be in the paper tomorrow morning,” she added with a throaty laugh, not missing the unmistakable flashes of cameras aimed toward their moment of intimacy. 

“Well,” Draco raised his head, eyes cutting around the gathering before settling back onto her. “I suppose it’s about time. At least we won’t be spoiling Potter’s wedding with our good news, though I do wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out. I think there’s a reason my mother invited The Prophet...”

Hermione laughed in disbelief and slapped a hand on his chest, still giggling when he captured her lips in another kiss.

"Besides- if I'm not mistaken, our magic is already bonded," Draco added with a cheeky sort of grin, laughing once more as he gave Hermione a final twirl and she stopped mid-step to stare at him in disbelief. "Oh, yes, you think I didn't know about that, then? Barmy witch..."