Rewrote this chapter because of awesome people like oliviilskov. Thank you my love, for making me realize that I should have just gone with my initial gut feeling! In this chapter Hermione has to make some tough decisions...desperate times call for desperate measures...

Chapter 3: Reunions and Reservations

She didn't come out of her room the next day.

Or the day after that.

Or…the day after that.

After around day six Narcissa grew impatient, and stormed right up to Hermione's bedroom. Knocking lightly on her door at first, she waited until she heard shuffling inside of the room. But the door remained shut. She sighed, knocking a bit more loudly on the door. "Hermione, dear?"

"I don't want to see you, Narcissa."

"Oh sweetheart, please let me in."

"Nuh-uh."

"Hermione, if you don't open the door I'll have no choice but to forcefully enter your quarters. But that is not the Lady Malfoy way, and I would hate to intrude so hastily. So please darling, let me in."

There was a slight pause in which Hermione pondered her proposal, and thinking it best to not have her door blown off its hinges, replied quickly, "Who else is with you?"

"It is just me, dear."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

She heard the clicking of the lock, and taking it as her sign to enter, Narcissa entered the room slowly. She darted her head around the darkened chambers, allowing her specialized nose to adjust to the absolute horrid scent of tears and body odors.

"Oh, sweet girl, this is unacceptable."

Hermione groaned from somewhere near the back of the room.

Narcissa cautiously maneuvered herself towards the two sets of French doors on the east side of the room and pushed them open without a second thought. The pale light of the gray-covered skies showered into the blackened abyss and lit it up drastically, while also draining out that god awful scent and replacing it with the crispness of the wintery winds. The Malfoy matriarch inhaled a deep breath, smiled to herself, and swerved around gracefully. Her eyes coming into direct contact with her haggard daughter-in-law.

"What have you done to yourself?"

"Me? This is your precious son's doing!"

"Draco? What did he do now?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start," came Hermione's cold reply.

Narcissa was at a loss of words as she took in Hermione's distraught essence – her unruly hair piled up as an unkept mass on her head, her dresses littering the floor, accompanied with a destroyed wardrobe at her feet. Her body looking sickly and pale due to the lack of nourishment, her eyes lifeless and dead, her night pajamas hanging loose on her thin legs, her cotton jumper outlining her frail form. She, being the essence of fashion and glamour, nearly fainted at the state of the girl and the state of the room. Which coincided in its allure with the inhabitant of it.

Narcissa sighed, rubbing her temple with perfectly manicured hands. "The nerve of that boy. I shall scold him later, dear. How about now you join me in a well-deserved pampering, yes?"

Hermione gazed upon the beautiful woman with a look of dread before reluctantly nodding, drawing the conclusion that she did indeed look like hell. Narcissa offered her hand, and Hermione graciously took it.

Oh yeah, she deserved this.

Her mother-in-law treated Hermione to a blissful day at one of the most prestigious spas in Diagon Alley, followed by a casual shopping day with the charming lady. And in this span of a few hours, Hermione grew to admire her new mother. She was a wonderful conversationalist, graceful and beautiful, well-spoken, and, well, surprisingly loving. Huh, Hermione thought, who knew Malfoy's could feel?

Narcissa whisked Hermione into Madame Malkin's, where she was displayed on a podium and properly measured, while Narcissa sat in a chair and sipped on perfectly aged red wine in a dainty glass.

"No, the color makes her skin look pallid. Next!"

"But Madam Malfoy, this color is the latest in all the Wizarding lands, dyed by hand in China!"

"I don't care for such a color, Genevieve, for it does not suit my daughter-in-law. When I say I do not like it, I expect you to accept it and move on. Understood?"

"Yes, of course Ma'am."

"Good, now if you don't have any other suggestions, I am loathe to admit that we shall seek shopping pleasures elsewhere, I have heard tha-"

"No! That is not needed. In fact…I think I may have the perfect thing," the young girl remarked gleefully before disappearing behind a rack of wedding gowns.

"Mother, I don't understand the point of this. The poor girl is only trying to help," said Hermione, talking to Narcissa's reflection through the mirror. Narcissa tutted in response, lowering her glass and rising from the loveseat.

"My dear, you should know that Malfoy's only want the best, and only want that which will make them stand amongst the crowd. I get all of our clothing tailored from Madame Malkin's personally so that not one other person in Britain may wear the same design as us. It is just the Malfoy way. And as your husband's mother, I need for my daughter-in-law to fit in, and look just as marvelous. Especially since the Minister's Winter Ball is this Saturday."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the thought, realization that this would be her first public appearance as the new Mrs. Malfoy setting in. The Minister's Winter Ball, this year being held by Kinglsey Shacklebolt, was an annual function held by the Ministry as a fundraiser. Nearly everyone was invited, and nearly everyone attended. And because of that, she was brought here in search of a gown for the evening. One that would both compliment and accentuate Draco's attire as well. The family theme this year was pearl white with accents of emerald. So, naturally, Hermione had two options- get a green or pearl dress. She knew for a fact that Draco's Chambray suit was of the finest material. Oh and, it was a creamy Dutch White color. Which was interesting considering that she'd never seen the man wear anything except for dark grays or black.

"Ah, Genevieve, that is absolutely gorgeous," she gasped upon seeing a marvelous set of robes floating through the air and towards Hermione. Genevieve smiled at the praise, and the robes floated and set themselves onto a mannequin in front of Hermione. She eyed the clothing with a keen eye, amazed and entranced all the while. The dress was rather simple compared to what Hermione had seen most Pureblood women wear, but it held its own gorgeous allure. The fabric was of a soft, fine chiffon, light and flowing. It had the most modest silver embroidery on the sleeves and bodice, and in its decorous nature, Hermione was entranced. The robes brought a whole new meaning to à la dernière mode. Hermione was so engulfed in its beauty that she didn't even notice the slight ringing of the doorbell and three new voices enter the store.

"Harry, the Ball is this weekend, I don't have enough time! Hopefully I can find a dr- well, well, well," spoke the first. "If it isn't for Hermione Gran- oh I'm sorry, Malfoy with mummy Malfoy. How sweet."

Narcissa glared at the young Weasely girl, her motherly instinct of protection kicking into overdrive. But, since she was a woman of mannerisms and civility, plastered a smile onto her face and replied with a determined voice, "Good afternoon, Ms. Weasely. Such a coincidental turn of events. How are you?"

"Oh, we're fine, Malfoy. Perfectly peachy," replied Ron instead.

"Well I suppose that is a good thing then. Though I must say that your lack of manners is rather unbecoming. I would suggest that, when talking to your elders you use proper etiquette and respect. However, I shall let this one instance pass over."

Next to her confident mother-in-law, Hermione was a shaking ball of nerves, chewing ferociously on her bottom lip and throwing uncomfortable glances at her former best friends.

"Hermione, dear, won't you greet your friends," asked the Malfoy matriarch.

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat and cracked a smile, "H-hello Harry, Ron…Ginny."

"Don't you dare talk to me, you filthy little traitor," spat Ron.

Hermione winced and Narcissa placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, "Now that would be quite enough. Mr. Weasely. I will not have you insulting my daughter in such a plebeian way. I'm starting to wonder if your mother has taught you anything besides spewing hatred."

Ron nearly lunged himself at the prim woman before Harry restrained him, preventing him from causing an even bigger scene. "Not here, Ron," Harry placated.

"I apologize for his hotheadedness, Mrs. Malfoy. He's just a bit…upset with…certain things," Harry whispered, his eyes drifting towards Hermione as his words became slower.

"No matter, Mr. Potter. Now if you would please, I would just like to enjoy an afternoon with Hermione. And it seems as if you have upset her."

"Upset her? If anything she has bloody upset us! Me!" Ron yelled.

"Ron! Shut up!"

"Oh, let him talk Harry! He's not wrong! She's a disgusting traitor, a menace! And to think I called her my friend! To think she was even yours! I can't believe we were planning on bringing her into our family when the whole time she was just planning on being married into theirs. The whole pointy-faced and pale lot. The lot of Death Eaters-!"

"Enough," a new voice drawled.

Everyone whipped to see the owner of the voice and the trio's eyes widened as they took in the essence of Lucius Malfoy, who was watching them with a critical eye. The tension in the room grew considerably upon the addition of the Malfoy patriarch, everyone going completely silent. Hermione felt her eyes grow cloudy as her father-in-law gracefully walked to her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She accepted the comforting gesture and quickly wiped away her tears, making sure to conceal her teary face from her former friends.

"Enough is enough. I am more than aware of my family's faults, most being my own. But I will not, under any circumstance, allow for you to berate and undermine someone as magnificent as our Hermione."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she glanced at the head of the Malfoy line, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Our Hermione.

In that moment, she realized that her new family was telling the truth. That blood mattered no more. That prejudice was a thing of the past. That acceptance was progress.

And Merlin, thought Hermione, that's a lot of progress.

Lucius rubbed her shoulder, staring at the befuddled trio before them. "I believe, Narcissa, that it is wise to take our leave. Plenty of damage has already been ensued."

Narcissa nodded and collected her things, whispering to Genevieve to have the clothing delivered to the Manor. Together, the three Malfoys strode towards the door, brushing past the others. As Hermione walked, Ginny scoffed at her.

"Bitch."

"Gin, stop. Please,"

The door shut close before she could hear the rest of the conversation.

The first thing Hermione did as the flames died down was drop her bags and run to her room, furiously brushing the tears that threatened to spill before they got to the Floo. Narcissa reached for her arm but missed by an inch, and the girl slithered out of her grasp. She sighed, turning her head to look at Lucius, who, just as she, held a face filled with concern. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head, sitting down on the nearest Chesterfield sofa.

"They're vile."

Lucius agreed, "It surprises me, they were the best of friends not too long ago, were they not?"

"I thought so, too. Say, darling?"

"Hmm?"

She hesitated before responding. "Draco never really told us why he wanted to marry Hermione, did he"

Lusius considered this for some time, fumbling with the memories in his mind. He rubbed his chin but ultimately shook his head. "No, I mean, he did, to an extent. Saying that she was the path to our redemption, our salvation. Are…are you trying to say that he might have had an ulterior motive?"

Narcissa twiddled her thumbs as she paced back and forth before the fireplace.

"No! No, I have faith in my son. Whatever his reason may be, I am certain that he did not go about this arrangement in a questionable way."

"Cissa, you do know who you're talking about, right?"

She turned and stared out the window, towards the darkening clouds, her brows furrowed in wonder and fear.

I sure hope so.

At quarter 'till seven, Hermione was woken by a knock on the door. She rubbed her eyes and sat up grudgingly, meeting an almost pitch-black room. Lightning struck and illuminated the room for a second, before plunging into darkness once more.

Hermione whimpered, she always had a terrible fear of storms. "C-come in."

The door quietly opened, revealing none other than husband dearest himself. She groaned inwardly and pulled a pillow onto her lap, watching him warily as he stepped closer to her. Once he reached the king sized bed, he stopped.

The room went silent.

He sighed and then sat himself on the edge of the mattress.

Rain began to splatter against the glass.

"I…heard."

Hermione stared at his back, feeling her eyes grow cloudy again.

"And you're here. For what? To make fun of me? To rub it in? To remind me that it's because of you they're like this? Well sorry to burst your egotistical bubble but you don't need to do any of that. I had more than I asked for earlier."

He was silent for a moment, before his shoulders slumped in defeat and he shook his head. "No, Hermione. I just…I actually came here to apologize, for…for last week. And the…the arm…thing," he swallowed uncomfortably and shut his eyes. "I just…I was angry. I was angry because you called yourself a Mud-," he stopped again, running a shaky hand through his fine, silvery-blond hair. "…because you called yourself something I used against you for six years. It made me realize how…absolutely wrong I was and, fuck…Will you forgive me?"

Hermione felt tears course down he cheeks in a silent trek, still focused on her husband's back.

"No."

He lifted his head and his eyes snapped open, before he swerved around and faced her.

She was taken aback when she found that his eyes were doused in unshed tears, that the tops of his cheeks were stained with blotches of crimson.

"No? Why?"

"The fact that you have to ask yourself that is explanation enough. You just admit to being sorry for something that…that can't be healed with an apology. Put yourself in my shoes, Malfoy. How would you feel if someone dug up your painful past and displayed it just to make a point? That's what you did! I have to live with that every bloody day. The torture. Her wild laughter. The pain. The blood. All of it is engrained into my mind and you thought it was a good idea to pull up my sleeve and remind me of what I am!"

"I-I-…"

"A-and not only that," she hiccupped, brushing away the tears with the heels of her palms, "you ruined my life. You destroyed everything that could have been. You…you ruined my relations with my friends. With my best friends, Malfoy. The people that had become my second family! Because of your...your stupid personal vendetta. And you don't even feel regret, do you? Or remorse? Or sympathy for that matter? NO! You don't! Because you are the snobbiest prat I've ever known who knows nothing about respect. Or love. Or friendship."

He looked away in shame, anger rising in his chest.

"And you know what? I…I don't think I can carry out this deal anymore. I don't need your help if this is what it entails. I'll find my parents sooner by myself than if I stay here. I can't do this anymore."

Draco shook his head wildly, "No, you can't do that! A deal's a deal, Granger. You marry and give me an heir in exchange for information on your parent's whereabouts."

"YOU HAVEN'T GIVEN ME THAT INFORMATION!" She screamed.

"YOU HAVEN'T GIVEN ME THE TIME TO!" He rebuked.

She fumed and threw a pillow at his stupid, perfect face. "Now you do!"

He tossed the pillow haphazardly onto a chair and stood up, towering over her on the bed. Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn't terrified right now; his hair was slightly disheveled from the pillow onslaught, his eyes aflame with a burning intensity. When he spoke it was incredibly quiet, but Hermione wouldn't mistake his tone as gentle. She could practically feel his anger radiate off his skin.

"I will tell you when confirmation of my heir in that blasted womb of yours is made."

"How dare you blackmail me!"

"A deal. Is. A deal. Take it or leave it sweetheart."

Her brows knit together in exasperation and she readied another pillow, this time attacking him full-on. Hit after hit of ruthless pillow smacks. After around eight feather-filled punches he grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms down, the pillow loosening and falling forgotten onto the floor.

"You're such an arse."

"I was trying to forge a mutual relationship by apologizing but obviously that was all for naught, you thickheaded woman!"

"Oh I'm sorry for finding it difficult to accept your less-than-halfhearted apology." She squirmed in his grasp. "Let go of me!"

"No! Not until you listen to me!"

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because as soon as you do what I'm going to tell you about the sooner you'll get to your parents."

Hermione stilled.

"Go on, then."

"Right. Well, as stated by our deal, you are to provide me with an heir. By the end of the month. Now, I've talked with my parents, and they say it's a good idea for me to take you to a honeymoon of sorts."

"ABSO-" he pressed his finger against her mouth, shushing her.

"Nuh-uh. You will let me finish, Hermione. We are going to go, whether you like it or not. But then again…if you choose not to comply then your parents' location remains with me. Now what's your choice?" he let go of her arms but remained rooted in his place, less than half a foot away from her, their chests barely touching.

She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes darting about as she read over the situation at hand over and over in her mind. There were two possibilities, one obviously more desirable than the other. On one hand, if she agreed to these terms then she would find her parents much sooner. But then, on the other hand, even if she didn't agree, she could just go herself and continue her search. The only downside to that, however, is that no matter where she looked, or how long she looked, she wouldn't even get close to finding them.

So it was on this day, three months ago, when Draco Malfoy approached Hermione with this marriage proposition. Apparently, his job as head Auror granted him access to every documented magical being in Britain. And it was because of these circumstances that he came across Hermione's issue, and approached her with a remedy to it. And it was especially helpful since he knew exactly where they were, what with all his international connections and whatnot.

At first she outright rejected his proposal. But then…she thought. He could help her, and oh, how she needed the help. She'd been trying, to no avail, for months following the end of the Second Wizarding War to search for her parents. Her first course of action was obviously Australia, as that was where she had sent them off to. But she searched and scoured the land down under, obtaining no results. Monica and Wendell Wilkins seemed to have vanished off the face of the Earth, and Hermione was beginning to lose hope.

And so it was then she agreed to get married to the spoilt twerp, but little did she know at the time that this little decision to help her get her parents back would tear her relations with the ones she loved so dearly.

"I'll do it."

A beautiful smile spread across his face and he relaxed, exhaling a sigh of relief. Hermione stared in wonder, marveling at how innocent and well, human he looked when he smiled. He is not beautiful, Hermione. Nor is he innocent or human for that matter. Stop it. She shook the thought out of her head.

"Good…good. Brilliant. Start packing, we leave tomorrow afternoon."

"Where are we going?"

"That, my love, is a surprise."

He winked at her. She rolled her eyes. He smirked. She huffed in annoyance. He gently took her hand and kissed her knuckles, his soft lips grazing her skin.

"Until then, au revoir, mon amour."

With a bow and an overly dramatic exit, Draco Malfoy vanished from her room.

Hermione fell back onto the bed and groaned into a down feather pillow.

"I hate that manipulative little git."

Heheh...yeah, I'm terrible, I know, I know. I haven't updated in months and for that I am utterly sorry. But hey, sophomore year is over! WOOOHOO I'M AN UPPERCLASSMAN NOW! And it is summer now so I'll have plenty of time to write and update my stories. For those of you who have stuck around, thank you so much! Have a big internet hug and digital cookie (it's freshly baked). Hope you all enjoyed the Narcissa and Lucius action in this chapter, as well as the confrontation with Hermione's fraaaahhhhnnnds. You WILL get answers soon, I promise. Love y'all! AND please tell me how this chapter was! did ya like it, did ya hate it? LEMME KNOOOOW 3