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Things Fall Apart: Hermione at Malfoy Manor	By : zeldaofarel Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1734 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Things Fall Apart: Hermione at Malfoy Manor
- 1
Author’s Notes: I’ve been a terrible writer these past months! I’ve travelled, I was ill twice for several weeks and I’m still not all well. I hope this will tide you guys over for a while. This is a companion piece for my long fic; Things Fall Apart, But Then You Build Again. It’s a small look at Hermione’s life in Malfoy Manor.

I’ve created an album for my visual references for my fics. Adrian is becoming a regular in my fic, though I didn’t want to make an OC, but he sort of popped in. Plus I’m vacationing in Rome this year, so I figured that I could later use that in the fic as well. So I searched around and found a gorgeous Italian male model to use as my inspiration. You can find pics of him in the album.

Where I grew up they traditionally make these slippers in red or black. I used to own one when I was smaller and really loved them. When I was thinking of Hermione’s slippers, they came into my mind. However, for her dressing-gown they would have to be pink, so think of the shoes in the album, just in pink.

The link to the album is: http://imageshack.us/g/842/313847556aa45ed6d66o.jpg/

I would like to thank Icicle for beta reading this little addition.

Things Fall Apart Interlude: Hermione at Malfoy Manor

Hermione could feel herself returning to consciousness and it was a slow process as always. She first took note of the soft pillow under her head and then the blanket’s weight on her back. After that, the smell of dry leaves as it enveloped everything in the autumn and finally, the dim light as it shone through the curtains. She never liked to have the dark curtains drawn as they gave her a sense of being enclosed, as if she was trapped in a box.

She slowly turned from her front onto her back and looked around. It sometimes still surprised her that she was waking up in such a beautiful room in Malfoy Manor of all places. There were mornings when she forgot and half asleep reached out to Ron. Then on other mornings, the sight of the unexpected room frightened her for a second. Yet, both were becoming less frequent and it signalled to her that she was getting used to living in the Manor.

Hermione had expected life in the house to be so different. On the one hand, she thought everything would be lavishly decorated with gold and crystals. Instead, the decor was refined and elegant, mostly in earth tones that brought in the outside world. Her own room was dominated by a large four-poster bed with mahogany wood and green and yellow bedding, the design echoing in the furnishings around her. On the other hand, she expected it to be rather unpleasant, when it was the complete opposite. She actually enjoyed living with the Malfoys. A fact that still baffled her.

“Miss Hermione, breakfast will be served in fifteen minutes,” informed a house-elf that appeared at the foot of her bed. The small creature quickly popped away and she was left for a few moments still lost in her thoughts.

She reluctantly extracted herself from the very comfortable bed and sat down at the dresser. Another misconception she had about the Malfoys, was that at all times they would be dressed in the most fashionable robes and would never be caught dead in anything else. On the contrary, breakfast was generally enjoyed in nightclothes and a dressing gown, horses were ridden in trousers and shirts, and everyday life was spent in simple, though beautiful clothing. Everything they owned was top quality without a doubt, but always the most comfortable for the occasion. Hermione had no more worries over clothes either as they insisted that she get a brand new wardrobe to complement their own. At first she was a bit reluctant to accept their generosity, but they insisted and pointed out to her that if they were to introduce her to pureblood society, she would have to blend in with her clothing as well. Furthermore, she needed to get more comfortable with the fine materials; thus, she had to wear quality in her everyday life.

That was why, as she ran a silver brush through her bushy hair, she could marvel at the beauty of her pale pink cotton nightgown. She loved sleeping in it as it gave her an extra sense of softness. Once she deemed her hair passable, she put on a matching dressing gown with a small flower pattern that reached right down to her ankles. She wondered where her slippers were hiding. It seemed to be in the nature of slippers to always go missing, but she did eventually find her embroidered, pink, slightly heeled slippers under the bed, of course. She put them on and was out the door, on her way to the breakfast room.

She did not run, even though she felt that the fifteen minutes had been up for a while. She went down a wide staircase, through many halls and corridors, until she reached the bright and cheery breakfast room. It was simply decorated by a few glass cases that held silver table furnishings, and in the middle stood a large circular table that was white, surrounded by comfortable white armchairs. The large windows let in the light from outside, but not too harshly as they were on the North-Eastern side of the building. Hermione sat down into her usual chair and greeted Lucius, who was sitting three chairs down from her. He greeted her as well and took up his Daily Prophet again that he read as he ate his toast. Lucius wore his nightclothes as well, a long black nightshirt and dark green robes over it. The Malfoys seemed to have a general fondness for the colour green. Hermione wondered if it was all their time spent in Slytherin, or perhaps it was their apparent love for nature. The house itself seemed to be built in such a way as to always bring in the most of the extensive gardens.

The first time Hermione saw Lucius in the morning, she was startled. She recalled being deathly afraid of the man, and there he was, morning attire, no cane, reading the paper over breakfast like any regular bloke. He even greeted her. She sat down wearily that morning, keeping her eye on the oldest Malfoy, half expecting him to whip out his wand from somewhere and hex her for the audacity of sitting at the same table. However, once he took note of her staring, he just smiled, almost gently, and went back to his reading. That made her relax and ever since then she had never felt fear in his presence again.

This morning, as she sat in her place, she just smiled at him and then selected from the foods placed in the middle of the table. She took a boiled egg, some mixed salad and a piece of special bread. She buttered her bread and then took a bite just as a house-elf popped into existence next to her. It silently put down an envelope beside her plate and disappeared. She picked it up and saw that Harry had sent it. They had previously arranged that he could send her letters through the Floo, rather than an owl.

The letter told her about Harry’s meeting with his father-in-law yesterday and it explained how they were planning on attending the Halloween Ministry Ball. Hermione smiled as she remembered how much Harry hated those functions. However, he would need to get used to them in the future.

As she looked up from her reading, she noticed that the rest of the family had arrived to the table, excluding Astoria, of course. Astoria always took her meals in her own quarters, except for when they had guests. They had probably already greeted her and she blushed as she realised how absorbed she had been in her letter. She hastily greeted them. They were all similarly attired in nightclothes and robes, even Scorpius, who had Quidditch-themed things. They all began to eat after selecting from the spread in the middle.

“Harry wrote it?” Draco asked, indicating the letter.

“Yes. He says that he’s going to attend the Halloween Ball that the Ministry is holding. The Weasleys think that it’s going to be a good opportunity to present him to the Wizengamot members,” she summarised the contents.

“Well then, we will have to attend as well,” Lucius spoke up as he folded and put down his paper. “The whole family received an invitation.”

“Can I go too?” Scorpius piped up, eager to be a part of anything that the adults did.

“No, Scorp, it’s not for little boys. You’d be bored there. There will only be adults there who are going to be talking about politics and such,” Draco explained to his son.

Hermione smiled at the exchange. Draco always explained every ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to his son. He never just refused or allowed him anything; he always told the boy the reasons behind it. It was a good tactic to encourage thinking as the child could learn to be able to deduce these things on his own one day.

From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught an approving smile from Lucius as well. He often seemed very proud of his son.

“It’s going to be a costume ball, isn’t it?” Narcissa inquired as she bit into her toast.

“So I’ve heard,” Draco agreed with her.

“Well, then we will have to select who we’ll dress up as,” the older woman pointed out.

“Is it common for Wizards to have a ball like this?” Hermione asked. Since she has been living in the Manor, she had come to realise that many things that were matter-or-fact for her with her Muggle upbringing, were in fact not so in the wizarding world.

“Not really,” Draco began to explain. “Traditionally, Halloween, or as they called it of old, Samhain, is a day of remembering the dead. It’s the day when the veil between this world and the next is the thinnest; therefore, things can come through much more easily. Dressing up used to be a way of trying to keep the spirits away. Also, sometimes ghosts manage to pass through on this day, though only the ones that actually want to go,” he seemed to finish, but then changed his mind and went on speaking. “When the Potters were killed, some people theorised that Voldemort had picked the day when it was the least likely that their spirits would get stuck here and haunt him,” he added.

Hermione just nodded in understanding. Indeed, the Ministry’s Ball was yet another example of how Muggle culture was influencing the wizarding world.

“How long have they had this costume ball? I remember going every year since I’ve finished school,” she inquired.

“I think they only started after the war. Isn’t that right, Father?” Draco asked, turning to Lucius.

“Yes. There had been smaller balls like that before, but not held by the Ministry,” Lucius revealed. “The most prominent families tried to keep such rather Muggle events from becoming more popular. However, since most of them lost their influence even more due to Voldemort, the Ministry could ‘muggleise’ the holiday in such a way.” He frowned in obvious distaste.

Hermione understood why it was so disturbing to him and by the looks of the others’ faces, to everyone else as well. They were losing their culture bit-by-bit. She felt like she was watching one of those more modern movies about Native Americans where they would sit in a hut discussing the thinning of buffalo herds. It was all just slipping away. For a moment, she had a vision of looking out her window in the Manor and instead of hills and forests, she saw tall buildings being drawn up to house Muggle-born families. They were ugly and had the charm of an East-London estate. She shook herself. The world just couldn’t lose another culture.

“I hope that with Harry’s help, we can soon return to the wizarding traditions of the holiday,” Hermione tried to lighten the situation. “For now, we have to think of whom we’re going to dress as.”

“I’m going to go as my favourite ancestor, Janus Malfoy,” Draco announced at once.

“Oh, what is he famous for?” Hermione was curious.

“He was the first Malfoy to settle in England. It was during the 17th century. He used to be a courtier in the court of Louis XIV. However, he had various affairs with all sorts of people and ended up falling out of favour. In the end, he had to leave and went to England,” the blond man explained.

“I can see the family resemblance,” Hermione teased and smirked at the blond, while the rest of the family quietly joined in.

“I’ll go as Merlin,” Lucius injected.

They were all a bit astonished at this and turned questioning glances at him.

“He was a great wizard and established wizarding culture in England. While he did help the Muggles, and promoted an interaction between the two worlds, he still kept his distance. He was also a great manipulator, picking out who would lead the Muggles,” he pointed out. “Also, it’ll shock all the Light Wizards and I just want to see their faces,” he smirked.

Hermione had a good laugh at his words and nodded approvingly.

“Then I’ll be Morgana,” Narcissa said. “Partly because she’s my favourite witch in history and also because she was in the same era as Merlin. They were on opposing sides, so it’ll be fun to go as them while we’re a couple.” She gave her husband a small wink that suggested some things Hermione would rather not think about.

“Mum!” Draco groaned with all the mannerism of a teenager.

“Oh hush, Draco. Sometimes Scorpius is more mature than you,” Narcissa chided.

Hermione just looked around the table in amusement and noted that Scorpius was just grinning into his food. Draco did have his childish moments, but she supposed that if her parents remembered her, she would have been rather childish around them as well.

“That only leaves you, Hermione.” Draco said, in a vain attempt to direct the attention away from his outburst, and more importantly, whatever his parents wanted to do in their costumes. “Who are you going to go as?”

“I really don’t know. So many interesting witches to choose from. It’s hard to just pick one.”

“You have to go as someone whom you can look good as,” Draco tried to help her. “Like with Janus, I get to dress up in the elaborate clothes of a 17th century French aristocrat. Lots of silk and lace, maybe even a fashionable cane can all be a part of my costume.”

Hermione smiled at Draco. He was always so stylish and aware of the fashion of the hour. It was so very Draco to think of it like that.

“I have an idea,” Narcissa spoke up. “A bit similar to Morgana was Cliodne. She was a druidess who lived around the same time as she did. She was good with potions, having discovered the properties of Moondew and was also a healer, besides being rather powerful. You said you want to train to become a healer after your divorce. She was also fond of the colours purple and green, which are excellent choices for you as well,” she explained.

Hermione thought about it for a minute. She had read about the druidess and even looked into how she used Moondew to create her potions.

“Great idea, Narcissa,” she said, smiling at the older woman. “I’ll go with your suggestion.”

They soon finished their breakfast and left the table. Hermione went up to her room to change and then took a stroll around the gardens. The rest of her day passed peacefully.

* * *

However, the coming days lacked the same sedated pace. She had attended many Ministry functions in the past with her husband, but going with the Malfoys was very different. Just the time, effort and money that was put into the preparations astounded her, but the name ‘Malfoy’ was still synonymous with ‘perfection’; therefore, she could not let her host family down.

On the day following their over breakfast decision, she was called to the Manor’s ballroom by a house-elf. She wondered about it, but she supposed it had something to do with the ball, so she went. Once she entered, to her surprise Lucius Malfoy stood at the centre of the room. To the side there was a wizarding wireless set up with a house-elf standing next to it. What amazed her was that Lucius, standing there all alone, managed to fill the large space. His cane was nowhere to be seen and he wore one of his elegant day robes. The polished wooden floor reflected his visage and the light from the large French doors at the opposite end of the room lit up his golden hair. At that moment, Hermione knew the purpose of her little one-on-one time with the eldest Malfoy.

Lucius smiled at her and called Hermione towards him. She obliged him and went to him, a bit self-conscious because of her impending dance lesson. As she stood before him, Lucius bowed to her.

“May I have this dance, Milady?” He straightened with an even wider smile.

“Of course, M’Lord,” she said as she curtsied to the older, but still very handsome gentleman.

He raised his arms in the correct position for a waltz and she joined him. The house-elf started the music and they began to dance. Hermione felt very comfortable in his arms to her bewilderment. He was an excellent dancer and he lead her around the room with an effortless grace that always seemed a part of the man. She had avoided dancing during the previous functions she attended with the Malfoys because she never felt comfortable next to all the elegantly flying couples. However, in the arms of such an expert she felt safe and secure. It amazed her that her feet found the rhythm and the previously complex steps just felt easy. She was somewhat sad to let go and step back once the music ended. He bowed again, eyes twinkling with joy and she curtsied back.

“That, my dear, was excellent,” he said as he took her hand in his and placed a soft kiss on top.

“All thanks to my brilliant partner.” She smiled at him with genuine affection and he returned it.

“You’ll have no trouble dancing at the ball.”

“As long as you’ll be my dancing companion.”

“Well, I will be glad to accompany you to some of them, but you will have to let some other gentlemen also have the pleasure of dancing with a beautiful young woman like yourself.”

Hermione blushed at his compliment and tried to remind herself that the man in front of her was Lucius Malfoy, a married man.

“Then I’ll need more practice,” she declared.

“I’ll be happy to oblige, M’Lady,” with these words, he took her hands to place them in position again and nodded to the house-elf to start the music once more.

During the two weeks leading up to the event, they practiced every day for half an hour. Soon dancing became so effortless to Hermione that they could discuss everything during that time, including Wizarding politics. Though on some subjects they had to agree to disagree, they still managed to forge an unlikely friendship.

* * *

Preparing for the ball also got her better acquainted with Draco, who had taken charge of her ‘look’, as he called it, for the event. He kept badgering her with fabrics, different shades of green and purple, spells for clothes, hairstyles and even nail polishes. Hermione often felt like she was his life-sized Barbie doll, though refrained from mentioning it since Draco wouldn’t have understood the reference anyway. She went along with it, even though he was rather exasperating at times, his enthusiasm was still infectious.

On the night of the ball, she looked into the long mirror in her room with astonishment. Draco just stood next to her, admiring his work.

“Draco, I … I’m beautiful,” she said, the awe apparent in her voice.

“That you are, Hermione. You always have been, but beauty needs to be brought out. You have hidden it most of your life,” Draco told her with a smile.

“I never thought of myself like that. I was always the smart girl, not the pretty one.”

“I know, but the two are not mutually exclusive, you know,” he admonished. “Most people think that, I’ll admit to that. However, it’s not true. You are an amazing witch, Hermione. Smart and beautiful. So I have no clue what you’ve been doing with Weasley all those years.”

“Draco, I don’t know either,” she admitted and it was true. She deserved someone better than that man, and tonight, she would show it to everyone.

* * *

Later that night, after Hermione had arrived home, took off her clothes, stood in the shower for an hour and was finally cocooned in her bed, she thought of the ball.

It started out very well. She got many compliments on her outfit and some people didn’t even recognise her. She danced with various men, chatted with a lot of purebloods to show how different she was from the usual Muggle-borns and even engaged in some intellectual discussions about wizarding politics.

Yet, she found she still enjoyed dancing the most with Lucius. Perhaps it was the fact that she was so used to dancing with him that she could just get lost in the music and the feel of flying on the dance floor. She was so unaware of everything around her in the moment of waltzing with the man, that when Ron started his little scene he gave her a genuine fright. Afterwards, they thought it best to leave with their heads held high.

Hermione was rather annoyed with her soon-to-be ex-husband, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. While trying to go to sleep, she decided to concentrate on the more pleasant parts of the evening.

* * *

The next morning Hermione got up somewhat later than usual. The sun shone brightly into the room and when she checked her clock on the bedside table, she realised it was already noon. She was still a bit tired, but not enough to go back to sleep. After some minutes of staring at the ceiling and getting her mind to start working, she willed herself to get out of bed.

Soon enough, Hermione was dressed in a day robe and heading down to the ground floor. She wondered about what she was going to do that day. The past two weeks had been consumed by the preparations for the ball and now she was at a loss as to what to do with all the time she had. She was getting rather hungry, so she thought about looking for the others and trying to determine if they felt like eating as well.

As she neared the bottom of the grand staircase that lead into the entrance hall, she heard the voices of two men as they were approaching the hall from one of the corridors. She hurried down to the bottom of the stairs and hid behind the staircase. She could identify Draco as one of the men, but the other one didn’t sound familiar. As the two reached the hall, she peeked around to see who the other man was. The man talking to Draco was a little bit taller and rather handsome. He had dark, curly hair, dark eyes, darker skin that marked him as of Mediterranean descent and some stubble around his full lips, obviously left there on purpose. Hermione did remember him from the ball, but they were not introduced. She tried to make out what they were saying, but they were speaking too low for that. They stopped in front of the great doors leading outside and the dark man turned to face Draco. He touched the blond’s arm in a rather intimate manner and then leaned down to give him a small peck on the lips. He then opened one of the wings of the great doors and went out into the bright day. Draco turned away and looked in Hermione’s direction.

“Enjoyed the show?” he asked, obviously directing it at her.

She stepped out from the shadows with a blush.

“Sorry. I heard voices and got curious,” she admitted.

“Well, at least that hasn’t changed about you,” Draco said with a smile. “Let’s talk about this.” He motioned for her to follow him and after a short walk they entered a room Hermione had never been in before.

It was definitely Draco’s office. It was light and airy with yellow walls and pale coloured furniture mostly in greens and browns. Just like the rest of the house, it tried to bring in the outside world. The things that marked the room as Draco’s were the many photographs on every available surface. Most were of Scorpius in different stages of his life, but there were also some taken at Hogwarts and a couple of his parents. There were none of Astoria, as Hermione noted. The room had two areas. One was a working area with a large, but not domineering desk that had papers all over it. The other area was set up as a sitting space with the same kind of armchairs and coffee table that could be found all over the Manor. Draco walked to one of these and flopped down in his casual yet elegant manner. Hermione chose to sit in front of him.

“Hermione, I’m not sure if you’ve realised this, but I’m gay,” he began.

“Not for sure until you took over my ‘look’ for the ball.” She grinned, remembering how the man transformed her for the occasion.

He actually blushed at that and then cleared his throat to continue speaking.

“Yes, you needed that. Badly. Anyway, the man you just saw is Adrian Conti. He’s my lover,” he revealed.

“It must be hard with your wife and everything. No wonder the two of you are not close. Though why didn’t your parents break off the engagement? Do they even know?” Hermione’s mind started to work and she had to stop the avalanche of questions that was threatening to spill from her.

“My parents signed a contract that couldn’t be broken. They did realise I preferred men when I was a child, but there wasn’t anything they could do.” He looked down on the table to gather his thoughts. “It was extremely difficult for me to marry a woman. On my wedding day I was devastated and didn’t want to go through with it.” His eyes glazed over as he got lost in the memory. “I’ve met Astoria before and didn’t even like her. My parents had their marriage arranged as well, but at least they liked each other from the start. Astoria and I couldn’t stand each other. So, I was thinking of a way to get out of marrying her as I stood before my mirror in my wedding robes. My mum came into my room. She knew that I had to do it, so she said what she had to and assured me, that once I had a child with my wife - it would all be worth it.” He smiled, probably at the thought of Scorpius. “She was right. I adore my son. Scorpius is my world.”

Hermione smiled back at him. Even though her marriage to Ron turned out badly, she would still do everything the same way to have her children. Rose and Hugo were the light of her life and she missed them every day.

“Do people know about Adrian?” she asked.

“No, we’re very discreet. Besides, it’s not that serious, we just enjoy each others’ company.”

It was Hermione’s turn to blush as her mind conjured up images about what they could do when they were alone.

“Besides, Adrian’s a huge flirt. He practically hits on everyone, even the ladies. I think he just likes to make a game of it. He likes to know that everyone wants him.” Draco seemed more amused by his lover’s antics, than jealous. Seeing this, Hermione was sure that both men considered their relationship casual.

“He is very good-looking,” she admitted.

“And he knows it,” Draco added. “His parents are loud and proud Italians who moved to the UK some time ago. Adrian, however, only kept the proud part. Most people find him irresistible, but that only makes him choosier when it comes to bed partners. I should introduce you. I’m sure you’d find him fascinating.”

“Good idea, I’d love to meet him,” Hermione agreed with him.

“Another subject I wanted to discuss is that we got a letter this morning from Harry,” Draco suddenly announced.

“Already?” She was amazed that her friend had been able to get up that morning. “What did he say?”

“Well, we have a problem,” Draco began. “Apparently, your dear husband woke him up early this morning to rant about last night. He wants to hurry the divorce so that you don’t sully his name with us Malfoys anymore.”

Hermione paled at the news.

“But we’re not ready!”

“I know. However, I just had an idea, and it actually involves Adrian.” Draco started to explain to Hermione, who smiled at what she heard.

‘This might just work,’ she thought as Draco revealed his plan.
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Things Fall Apart: Hermione at Malfoy Manor

Things Fall Apart Interlude: Hermione at Malfoy Manor