"Draco dear!" Narcissa Malfoy's voice trilled through the Malfoy Manor. The person in question winced, at the sound of his mother. No doubt she was going to pester him to find a wife yet again. She had gotten it into her head that he must get a wife on his twenty-first birthday, and the day was fast approaching. Muttering incoherently, Draco hurriedly apparated away before his mother could find him and began her tirade once more on 'how a nice young man should be settling down at this age'. Funny how a full grown wizard, the second in his class (only to that Granger), could be so afraid of his mother
"That boy! That boy!" Narcissa huffed. "He is impossible!"
"What is it, my dear?" Lucius drawled.
"At twenty years of age already, and he still hasn't found a wife!" Narcissa continued. "I've told him repeated times: I want to have a daughter-in-law to pamper before I become too old, but he just will not listen! Incorrigible."
Lucius chuckled, but he too wanted his son to find a prospective wife soon; he needed to be assured that the Malfoy line wouldn't end with Draco.
Narcissa paced around, in front of him, much to his amusement; it was such an uncharacteristic action of his wife.
She stopped in mid-step. "I've got it!"
Lucius arched his eyebrow, in a fashion not unlike his son.
"Trippy!" she called, and a house-elf with enormous bat-like ears appeared in front of her.
"I want you to find all the witches in Wizarding Britain, and have their pictures taken and sent to me, as soon as possible."
"Yes mistress. Trippy understands. Trippy go now." And with a 'pop', the house-elf vanished.
Narcissa sat down next to her husband on the leather couch, and turned to her husband.
"Now… let us continue what we were doing last night…" She smiled seductively. Lucius smirked back the Malfoy smirk.
"Let's."
---
A thick pile of photographs lay on the table, in front of the two. Trippy had indeed done a very thorough job of gathering information for possible candidates to bear the Malfoy heir.
Narcissa picked up the topmost one.
"Too dense looking," Lucius drawled, and the picture was tossed aside.
"Too plain." And again, the folder was displaced. Narcissa flipped open the third picture, a frown creased on her forehead. Not even bothering to show Lucius, she added it to the growing pile of discarded photographs.
Hours later, Lucius was slumped down in his luxurious chair, in a very un-Lucius manner. Narcissa was slightly better off, sitting straight-backed against the hard chair, but with a very undignified look marring her beautiful features.
"Is there no one in the whole of Wizarding Britain that is suitable for our son?" Narcissa sighed exasperatedly.
"Of course. He is our son. No witch is obviously perfect for him." Lucius sniffed arrogantly. Narcissa giggled.
"Aah... What about this one Lucius? She could do with some up keeping though; that hair!" Narcissa said in an appalled tone.
"But she is still much better than those other ones," Narcissa commented, a disgusted look coming to her face as she remembered some of the earlier ones she had seen. Lucius took the picture from his wife, observing it with a critical eye.
"We shall invite her to the Manor tomorrow then." Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief, glad that that was over. Waving her wand, she magicked away the incriminating evidence of their matchmaking attempt.
---
Hermione Granger was just getting ready for bed when a large eagle owl swooped into her bedroom, dropping a letter onto her bed and soared off again, hooting into the night sky. Puzzled as to whom the owl might have belonged to (it was magnificent, brown-black in colour), as neither Harry nor Ron, or any of her other friends had an owl like that. Puzzled, she tore open the letter, revealing its contents.
Dear Miss Granger,
I know we have never spoken before, but I would like to invite you for tea at the Malfoy Manor tomorrow afternoon at approximately four thirty. Our anti-apparation charms will be disabled at that time, so you will be able to apparate straight onto the grounds.
Yours truly,
Narcissa Malfoy
Hermione's brow furrowed. Why would Narcissa of all people want to invite her for tea? The woman herself had said; they didn't even know each other. Naturally, the witch was suspicious, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she decided she would see the woman tomorrow. After all, who would turn down free tea? Even if it was with a Malfoy.
So, the next day, at four twenty-nine, Hermione found herself at the Malfoy Manor, wondering where to go.
"Hermione! I'm so glad to see you!" Narcissa Malfoy exclaimed. "This way please."
Narcissa escorted her to the garden at the back of the manor. It was beautiful, with all kinds of exotic flowers at every nook and corner. They sat down at a table located right at the center of the garden, immersed by the colours and smells of the flora.
"I just love being here, don't you?" Narcissa said happily. "Trippy!" A house elf appeared, much to Hermione's displeasure. "Could you sure us the tea now please? Thank you."
"Yes mistress." The house-elf disappeared, reappearing a moment later with a tray full of freshly baked scones and tea.
"Now," Narcissa started when the elf had gone. "I wanted you here because, as you know, Draco is going to turn twenty-one soon, and I would like him to settle down quickly, with a nice young wife."
"How does that involve me?" Hermione asked cautiously.
"Well, Lucius and I have debated, and you seem like the most suitable candidate to fulfill that role."
There was a clatter, and Hermione dropped her teacup. The fragile cup shattered into a million pieces.
"Goodness! I'm so sorry!" She gasped. The china must have at least been a hundred years old.
"It's fine darling," Narcissa dismissed it carelessly. "It's a tad abrupt, but could you please consider it? My darling Draco needs a lady, like you, to keep him in line. No more running about, caring only about the Malfoy finances. We have enough for a few more centauries!"
"Mrs. Malfoy… I don't think I'll be a good wife to… Mal-Draco," Hermione started. "To be honest, Draco and I loathe each other. Abhor each other even. "
"Yes, yes. But as they say… there's a fine line between love and hate…" Narcissa trailed off suggestively.
Well I never! That woman was determined for Hermione to marry her son!
"Now, I'm not going to hear another word from your mouth about that childish feud you and my son have against each other-"
"But-"
"Have a scone?" Narcissa said, hinting the finality of that topic. Hermione meekly accepted, and for the rest of the time, the two women talked about mundane things until it was time to go.
"Mother!" Draco burst into the garden. "Father said you would be here… What are you doing here?" His eyes narrowed.
"I was invited here, by your mother." Hermione glared at the man.
Realization sunk in to exactly why she was invited here. "Mother!"
---
"I don't understand why you need to do this mother! I have absolutely no intention of getting married, especially to that-."
"Draco," Narcissa started gently.
"She's a bossy, know-it-all, goody-goody Gryffindor bookworm for goodness sake!"
"Draco…" His mother's voice had become very soft, warning even.
He stopped.
"She seemed perfect fine to me, a little on the bookish side, but so are you. You practically devour books!"
"That's differ-"
"I don't see a difference. I'm inviting her over again, for dinner tomorrow night and you are going to be nice to the girl." With those last words, Narcissa walked out of the room.
---
Dear Miss Granger,
You are invited to the Malfoy Manor for dinner tonight at six-thirty in the evening.
Narcissa Malfoy
Kindly reply as soon as possible.
Hermione starred at the piece of parchment in her hands in wonderment. An inner debate raged within her. Should she attend the dinner? After all, Narcissa had been an extremely gracious host yesterday, and unlike what Hermione had thought, a very pleasant woman to talk to. But her son, Hermione grimaced at that thought.
Writing a reply to accept the invitation (she would feel too guilty to decline), she apparated off to work.
---
"Draco darling," Narcissa's voice ringed through the Manor, magically amplified by sonorous. "You better come home early for dinner tonight. We are going to have a visitor. Be back by six o' clock."
Draco groaned, knowing who that visitor was.
---
Hermione sat in the dinning room of the Malfoy Manor at six-thirty, with the Malfoy clan seated around the table. Draco Malfoy, specifically, was seated next to her. She was sure Narcissa had planned it. Maybe it had been the not-so-subtle way she had pushed her son to the chair next to Hermione's, or the death glare she sent him when he tried to sit anywhere else.
In any case, she found a scowling Draco Malfoy next to her. Oh, joy.
Narcissa rang a bell, and the house-elves brought the food in. Hermione's brow wrinkled at the use the house-elves.
"Mrs. Malfoy, wouldn't it be better not to use house-elves? I mean, in no way are they lower than wizards of any kind, and they have the right to be free, and not like slaves…" Hermione started. Draco snorted beside her.
Narcissa laughed, a little tinkling sound. "Oh no… All the house-elves are treated fine, with wages and decent living conditions. I read your article in the Daily Prophet recently. The only thing I disagreed was the clothes section, as that would break their enslavement. Would you like to see them after dinner?"
Hermione gaped. "O-Okay."
Dinner was a pleasant affair, and Hermione slowly relaxed under the stress of Lucius Malfoy, who was a man of few words, she found out. The only misgiving was when Draco (she was trying to be mature) and her tried to take the same piece of bread, which Narcissa laughed in response too (saying how she and Lucius had started off like that, causing Hermione to quickly drop the bread).
After dinner, Lucius and Draco disappeared to somewhere in the Manor, while Narcissa led Hermione to the house-elves dwelling. Though, she had to admit, the way there was completely unexpected. Hermione had thought that the Malfoys would have housed them near the kitchens, yet, she and Narcissa seemed to be heading in a different direction. On the walls of the hall, there were many portraits of Malfoy ancestors, all with the trademark white-blonde hair and the pale skin. They leered down at Hermione evilly. One portrait muttered something about how 'mudbloods' had never been allowed in the Manor, which Narcissa profusely apologized to, saying that they were too old-fashioned in their thinking, and that muggleborns were perfectly fine to come and visit the place anytime.
Finally, the long walk ended, in front of a grand looking teak door.
"Well, go along in," Narcissa smiled encouragingly. Cautiously, Hermione opened the door, and walked in. The room was filled with books of every kind, and her eyes roamed eagerly about.
"But this isn't the hous-" The door slammed shut. Hermione reached for the handle, only to find that it had vanished.
"I've seen mother has convinced you to come to the library," a voice said sourly.
The sound came from behind a bookshelf, at the back of the library. Hermione walked over, to find Draco sitting on a chair, reading a book entitled Magic and Muggles.
"I suggest you find a book and read to pass time. Who knows what time mother will come and unlock the door."
Hermione glared at the nonchalant man, but finding no other option, decided to do as he had suggested.
---
Outside, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were peeping through the (enlarged) keyhole, monitoring the two young adults' actions.
"You did give him the potion did you not?" Narcissa whispered to her husband, though their voices would not be carried through into the library.
"Of course woman! I slipped it in his tea myself." Lucius said smugly.
"This should be interesting then."
---
In the library, around thirty minutes after Hermione had entered; Draco Malfoy suddenly felt a tingling sensation in his stomach. It lasted only a moment, but Draco knew what it was; his parents had placed some concoction into his meal! I should have thought to ask the house-elves to taste the food first!
A minute later, a few lewd thoughts of Hermione drifted into his mind. A kiss on the hand soon progressed to a peck on her cheek, and then a … He grimaced. What could his parents have given him? He looked up from his book, seeing Hermione in a corner with her own volume, and quickly looked back down, his cheeks slightly flushed. The sordid thoughts grew stronger, each coming second making it harder to ignore. Finally, Draco Malfoy surrounding, walking briskly over to the witch, and gave her a heated kiss.
The kiss was by no means gentle, but demanding, the intensity increasing each moment. She gasped, and he stuck his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch of it. Abruptly, Draco pulled back, his cheeks painted an uncharacteristic red. Just then, there was a click, and the door opened.
Lucius and Narcissa quickly stepped backwards, into the shadows.
"I have to go." And Hermione ran out, apparating away from the Manor as soon as she stepped out of the place.
"Damn… I was hoping that our son would be able to resist the potion longer." Narcissa whispered. "Who knew what could have happened then…?" She smiled widely.
"Mother!" Draco called out.
"Yes dear?"
"What did you put in my meal?" He demanded.
"I didn't put anything." Narcissa said innocently.
Draco stormed off, knowing that he would not get any answers from her.
---
Hermione landed in her apartment, happy to be surrounded by familiar objects. She could still feel his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth. Hermione was furious! What kind of sick joke was he playing at? Yet, a minuscule part of her had liked it. It had been nothing like Ron, or Viktor. It had been like… Draco.
---
The next day was the weekend, and Hermione was grateful for that, to be able to relax after a hectic five days at the Ministry. All she wanted to do was to visit Flourish and Blotts, find a thick book, or five, and come home to read them all. It was simple really, until... she found herself knocked over in the bookstore, by Draco Malfoy.
Her books fell on the dusty floor, one landing on her foot. Hermione glared at the man (it was becoming a common sight nowadays) before leaning down to pick up her books. Sniffing, she turned away to pay for the books.
"Look, Granger, I'm sorry about the books." Draco said, quietly. And about yesterday. She turned, amazement written all over her face. It was, after all, uncommon to hear Draco Malfoy apologizing. To a mudblood, no less.
"Er… Okay… apology accepted?"
Draco smiled slightly.
"Why don't I help you with that, before some unfortunate soul gets mauled by you carrying the books?"
"It's fine…" Hermione said crossly, not liking anyone to look down on her. She turned, to walk to the counter, narrowly missing a middle-aged wizard. The pile of books was really too high, and somewhat…heavy.
Draco grabbed the books from her hands, and swiftly brought them to the counter before she could cause any more accidents, and paid for the whole lot. Shrinking them, he gave them back to her. And left the bookstore, himself empty handed.
"Malfoy! Wait!" Hermione shouted down the busy street; it was quite shocking that he could hear her despite the noise actually.
"What Granger?" He faced her.
"Why did you do it?" Hermione questioned.
"Pay for the books? As an apology for knocking you down of course."
"I don't want to owe you anything, come on." Hermione dragged him into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.
"Here," she said, handing him a menu. "Order anything you want."
"It's not-" He saw her glaring. "A vanilla ice cream sounds good." He told the server. Hermione ordered a chocolate ice cream.
"So… I saw you bought The Aritmancy Artwork." Draco said, trying to make conversation. "That's one of the books we have in the Manor…"
Hermione took out a book, disregarding his question, and began reading.
The ice cream came, and they ate in silence. It was good, especially on a hot June day.
"Thanks Hermione," Draco said sincerely, when they finished. She nodded curtly, and they both apparated in their own directions…
---
"Draco," Narcissa greeted him. "Where did you go this morning?" She asked.
"Diagon Alley, Flourish and Blotts."
"You have ice cream on your mouth you silly boy." Narcissa said tenderly, wiping it away.
"I went to Florence's after that with Her- by myself." Quickly making an excuse, he darted away to avoid anymore of his mother's probing.
Narcissa grinned, a Chestier cat grin, at her son's retreating figure. After all, she was going to become a mother-in-law soon, she just knew it, and if lucky, a grandmother as well.
/END/