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Forgiven	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18105 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter or the books or contents. This work is purely for my own pleasure, no profit to be made.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
The next couple days passed back rather quickly for Hermione. When she had woken up the next day at the Manor, she and Draco had spoken of her moving into the Manor, though it had been Narcissa’s suggestion originally, Hermione had her reservations. After a lengthy conversation of pros and cons, Draco finally won and he had let Maisey know the Muggle born was moving to the Manor. By that night, all of Hermione’s belongings had been moved from her flat into the set of rooms Narcissa had put aside for the Muggle born. The lease on the flat had been broken and the dues paid.
Ginny had joined Hermione and Narcissa in the planning of the wedding. Even Luna had join them, much to the Muggle born’s surprise.
“Are you sure you don’t mind, Luna?” Hermione had asked the Ravenclaw. “I know you had spent time here imprisoned during the war…”
But the wispy girl hadn’t minded at all. Together the girls had shopped for what they needed, including Narcissa as much as they could. Draco even joined them from time to time, though he had spent more time than not in his sitting room with Theodore and Blaise, reminiscing their times at school and talking about their own respective futures.
“I hope you don’t mind my inviting Miss Patil to your wedding, Draco,” Blaise had said over his glass of firewhiskey.
Draco shrugged. “I think she and Hermione are friends, so I don’t see a problem there,” he said. “You’ll have to ask Hermione, though. She and my mum have been frantic going over that ruddy guest list. Mum would invite all of Aristocratic Wizarding Britain if Hermione allowed her. Personally, I had to turn down the idea of having our colours be ruby red and emerald green.”
Theodore laughed. “Your entire wedding would look like Christmas in July!” he chuckled and Zabini joined in his laughter.
Draco made a sour face as he drawled, “Which is why I was so adamantly against it. Thankfully, Hermione was, too. She actually prefers some sort of light pink colour, so we went with rose and… I think a powdered blue, if I recall.”
“Merlin’s beard, Malfoy! Is Granger pregnant?” Blaise asked as he poured himself some more firewhiskey.
The blond shook his head. “I should bloody well hope not! If so we’re looking at immaculate conception and I will have a number of issues with that.”
“No kidding!” Theodore agreed. “Getting the bun in the oven without even mixing the batter first? Where’s the fun in that?”
“Have you been spending time at that bakery again, Nott?” Blaise joked. “Careful or you might get a bun in the oven yourself.”
Theodore snorted. “I’m not a woman, Zabini,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
“No, but he’s right,” Draco pointed out, leaning against the table. “If you keep riding your broom through the hoops, you’re going to get one pregnant. Then what are you going to do? This isn’t the nineteenth century. You can’t pretend they don’t exist anymore. They will strap you with child support for at least the next eighteen years, and that’s if you don’t marry the wench.”
All three men frowned at Draco’s words. He hated even thinking about them, but despite his own faults, Draco did care for his friends, especially the two sitting before him. Finally, Theodore spoke, “You’re counting on the idea that they can prove I’m the father.”
Draco had read enough Muggle journals that he pointed his drink at the dark haired man. “They can and they will,” he cautioned the man.
“Most of these advances started with those fucking Muggles,” Blaise sneered, glancing down at his tumbler. “Lucky I found a nice little witch to warm my bed. Wouldn’t bother me if her stomach began to swell with my child.”
Draco nodded. “I feel the same. I can’t tell the two of you the amount of times I’ve dreamt of Granger plump with my kid in her belly.”
“It won’t be long now and you can turn that fantasy into a reality, Malfoy,” Theodore stated. “When is this wedding taking place again?”
“The thirtieth,” Draco responded. “Father should be coming home the week after, and Hermione wants to make sure it’s done and over with by then.”
Blaise frowned. “How the bloody hell did you convince her to marry you so soon?”
The blond shrugged as he finished his drink. “I had help,” he told the man. “Between you two, my mother, and my own talking to her about it, I somehow got lucky. I’m not sure if it’s just her missing her family or feeling guilty or both, but I won’t complain.”
(II)(II)
She found him standing in the stock room at the back of an old supply store in Hogsmeade. They were renovating it to start carrying textbooks on the off chance children might forget to get a book or two at Flourish and Blotts. Hermione watched the man as he pulled down a box from a high shelf.
“Hello, Gregory,” she said.
The man did not look at her, but walked past her towards one of the aisles of the store and opened the box. “What do you want, Miss Granger?” he asked, though there was little politeness in his tone.
She still offered him a smile. “How are you doing? I’ve heard you started dating Pansy.”
He glanced at her and his eyes narrowed as they shot to the ring on her finger and back up to her eyes. “And I heard you were marrying Malfoy. Looks like the rumours are true,” he spat before turning back to his unpacking. “What’s it to you anyway? Didn’t think you cared much what happened to us Purebloods, or has Malfoy managed to change your mind of us?” He looked at her again and a sneer played on his lips. “Thinking of trying to purify your blood? Sorry, princess, but no amount of shagging even the purest, richest of us will make your blood any less dirty. No matter how hard you try.”
Frowning, she rolled her eyes. “Witty,” she said sarcastically. “Did you come up with that on your own?” She sighed. “Look. Draco and I are getting married Thursday next. I would like to extend an invitation to you and Pansy if you’d like to come,” she said.
Again, he did not look at her as he started stocking the books. “Why do you think we would want to come watch Malfoy marry some Mudblood? Even if you are the Gryffindor Princess and Golden Girl of the Trio.”
“Because you’re his friend?” she replied shrewdly. “Honestly, Goyle. Pansy has already gotten past all the old prejudices, why can’t you?”
He turned on her and glared. “If you want Pansy to come, why don’t you ask her? I’ve no interest in attending. And Malfoy was never my friend. Before Hogwarts, he could hardly be bothered with the likes of me or Crabbe. After the war, I never once received a single owl from the self-righteous git. Birthdays and holidays pass and not one word. He knew Crabbe was my best friend and yet he couldn’t even lower himself enough to attend his fucking funeral. So, no, Granger, I don’t want to go to your bloody wedding.”
She had taken a step back when he had started talking, a bit of his spittle had fallen on her shoulder, but she ignored it. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Gregory,” she told him.
He threw a hand up in the air. “Don’t talk to me like we’re old friends,” he growled. “I didn’t like you when we were in school and I sure as bloody hell don’t like you now.” Silence followed his statement as Hermione debated on what to do. He stocked a few more books before pulling out his wand and summoning another box to him. The box fell nearly a foot away and he grunted sticking his wand behind his ear. “Bloody spells,” he swore under his breath.
As natural, Hermione stepped forward to help him, but a glare from his beady brown eyes stopped her. “I blame you,” he told her. “Both of you. Malfoy for leading us into that hellish nightmare and you for angering Crabbe enough to cause him to cast that ruddy spell. Even you couldn’t bother to attend his funeral, yet I know for a fact you had gone to the service they held for the Dark Lord. “
“It wasn’t a ceremony to honour him,” she pointed out. “As for Crabbe, I…”
“Save it, Granger,” he snapped as he began stocking the new box of books. “Your excuses are useless. You and Malfoy deserve one another. You act like the only people victimized during the war were yourselves and the bloody ‘Order’. Never mind all of us little people who fought that damn war, too.”
Hermione’s eyes blazed at that. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Goyle,” she snapped. “I, and many of us, helped rebuild that school and volunteered at St. Mungo’s. I pulled nearly twenty hours each day for five days a week following the war. And once school started, I worked hard to keep my good grades. Weekends during that year were spent on the rebuild and I didn’t have any vacations. I lost my family, Gregory, and nearly my life. I didn’t tell Crabbe to cast that curse and Draco had warned him not to. It was his own fault and I’m sorry I didn’t go to his funeral, but I was too busy attending the countless funerals of my own friends who actually fought to end that bloody war and tyranny! Vincent had a choice and he chose wrong. That’s not my fault, nor is it Draco’s. Yes, you followed him, I get that. I watched the three of you throughout school. But you did that of your own free will.”
Goyle huffed as he placed the last book on the shelf and summoned another box. “Me, Malfoy, and Crabbe were all sons of Death Eaters, Granger,” he told her. “Crabbe and I figured that if we followed him, then he would be able to get us in good with the Dark Lord. Hell, his father was part of the Dark Lord’s inner bloody circle.”
“And now Lucius sits in a cell in Azkaban with both of your fathers while Voldemort remains buried six feet under,” she scowled. “So we both see how well that worked out for them, don’t we?”
It seemed a thought occurred to Goyle and he actually gave Hermione a close lipped smile. “And Lucius Malfoy’s only son is marrying a Mudblood. Not just any Mudblood, but the very Mudblood who put Lucius behind bars. No doubt he was just… overjoyed when he learned about it. One of the oldest pureblood families in Great Britain is about to be tainted by filth.”
Hermione sighed again. “You don’t have to come, Gregory,” she told him.
“Damn right I don’t,” he snapped. “And stop calling me ‘Gregory’. I didn’t give you permission to use my given name. As far as you’re concerned, it’s Goyle.”
She nodded. “Well, if you do decide to come, the wedding will be at the Manor on Thursday, the 30^th.” She watched him a moment longer. “I’ll see you around, Goyle,” she said to him as she turned and walked away.
(III)(III)
There were many invitations to be sent out. For such a small, private wedding, they had a lot of guests. There were three however that Hermione felt should be hand delivered their invitations. The first had been Goyle and his reaction was the very reason she wanted to see them personally delivered. Sending them by owl just seemed too impersonal.
She took a deep breath. Goyle had been the hardest one, or so she hoped as she knocked on the thick wooden door. The Parkinsons were by no means a poor family. Though they weren’t exactly the wealthiest of families either. From what Hermione knew through reading, Mr. Parkinson had earned his living working in St. Mungo’s developing counter curses for the spells children would accidentally cast on one another before attending Hogwarts. It was hard work given that most of the time, you couldn’t tell what sort of spells had been used and, so, it ended up being more guess work than anything.
The sounds of her knocks echoed, causing Hermione to think of an empty, hollowed out shell. She felt her heart fall, knowing that the family home couldn’t be as vacant as the sound made it seem. The old heavy door creaked on its hinges as it was pulled open by an ancient house elf in a tattered pillow case. Its red eyes gave her an unfriendly glare and for some unknown reason, Hermione felt she should fear this elf.
Straightening, she pushed her fears down and spoke clearly, “I’m looking for Miss Pansy Parkinson. May I speak with her, please?”
“Miss Pansy has no need for Mudbloods,” the elf sneered and started to close the door.
“Tobias!” shouted a feminine voice Hermione recognized. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Gryffindor smiled as the Pureblooded girl pulled the door back open. Pansy wasn’t looking at Hermione, however, but glaring at the elf. “Go back to the kitchen and clean up that mess! Worthless piece of trash!”
Looking up, Pansy pushed her hair out of her eyes and straightened her throat. “What do you want, Granger?” she asked. “Draco’s next birthday isn’t for another year.”
Hermione gave a nervous laugh. She wanted to say something to Pansy about the way she treated her house elf, but knew this was neither the time nor the place. “I’m not planning another birthday party,” she confessed. “Though, I was hoping to invite you to a celebration.” She produced a silver lined golden envelope and held it out for Pansy to take.
“What’s this?” the Pureblood asked as she took the envelope from Hermione and opened it. She pulled out the card and scanned the contents. Glancing back up at the Muggle born, she commented matter-of-factly, “So you and Draco are getting married. Does Lucius know?”
Hermione nodded. “I won’t say he’s pleased with the circumstances, but with him currently being in prison…”
“Is that why it’s so soon? Didn’t the two of you just started dating last week?”
“Actually, it’s been nearly a month now, I think,” the Gryffindor confessed. “But that was the stipulation Lucius gave me. If his son and I wanted to marry, we needed to do so before he was released from prison.”
Pansy frowned. “Is he expected to be released soon?”
Hermione shrugged and looked away slightly. “He’s been working with Minister Shacklebolt, from what I know. I think the Minister is going to cut him a deal.”
“More like create a host of new enemies for him,” the Slytherin snarked. “So, this wedding. Am I allowed to bring someone or is it just me?”
Hermione glanced up at her. “I’ve already seen Goyle. I tried inviting him, but he wouldn’t even look at the invitation.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, Granger,” Pansy said. “But that’s not who I was talking about. He isn’t exactly someone I would bring to a wedding… I was actually thinking of Millicent.”
“Oh!” Hermione said, smiling, “I’ve already invited her. She sent me her RSVP shortly after I sent her the invitation.”
The Slytherin lifted an eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t go to her house and personally invite her?”
Hermione took a deep breath. “Well, I thought of doing so, but when I mentioned it to Narcissa, she didn’t think it would be a good idea. She told me that Millicent’s family had been strong supporters of Voldemort and even alluded to the idea that Millicent’s father might have been a Death Eater.”
“Mr. Bullstrode wasn’t a Death Eater,” Pansy said with certainty. “He had been approached by the Dark Lord, but he didn’t have the stomach to join. However, Narcissa is correct about them being supporters of the Dark Lord’s cause.”
The Muggle born nodded. “So… will you come?” she asked, almost hopefully.
Pansy’s eyes narrowed for a moment while she thought about it. Finally, she shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” she admitted. “It’ll be interesting to see Britain’s most eligible Pureblood bachelor get tied to a Muggle born.”
Hermione grimaced. She wasn’t sure that she liked that response, but it was certainly better than what Goyle had said to her. She shook her head and gave the Pureblood a smile. “Thank you, Pansy. I know Draco will be pleased to see you there.”
“Speaking of Draco, why isn’t he with you? Given this is his wedding, too, you’d think he would come with you on these little meet and greets.”
The Muggle born shrugged. “I could make up an excuse, but I really don’t feel like lying. Let’s just suffice it to say that he didn’t really feel the need to come? He actually thought it a bit silly when I had suggested it and warned me about doing it. His mother and I didn’t think he needed to know that I had decided to come anyway.”
“Tut, tut, Granger. I think your husband to be is rubbing off on you,” the Slytherin said. “Word of advice, woman to woman?”
Hermione nodded, curious to know what she had to say.
“I’m sure you’ve heard by now that Goyle and I are dating,” Pansy said, leaning against her door frame. “I know how observant you are about these things. If you’ve spoken to Goyle, like you’ve told me you have, then you know how much he hates both you and Draco. He blames you both for Vincent’s death, though I’ve told him countless times the fault did not lie with either of you.” She sighed. “Nearly twenty years and that man still has something of a thick head.” Her eyes narrowed. “Draco is immensely protective of what he thinks is his. While he’ll forgive you going behind his back, I know the moment you tell him what you’ve done, he’ll warn you about approaching Goyle again. I would heed his words. In fact… any time Draco makes it a point to warn you or order you to do something, whether you like it or not, I would do it. He may be sweet and loving now, and you may have already had your disagreements, but you’ve never seen him truly angry, even in school. That isn’t something you want to witness.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve taken on an entire army of Death Eaters. I’m not afraid of whatever it is you think Draco might try. Besides, if he does try anything, I can simply leave.”
Pansy laughed. “Is that what you think you’ll do? Just leave?” Still chuckling, she shook her head. “You’d never get a divorce. The Malfoys don’t believe in it. Once you’re married, that’s it.” Her laughter disappeared as quickly as it came. “When Draco tells you to do something, you do it. Not because he’s being mean or controlling. You do it because he’s protecting you. His family are a loyal lot to one another and once you’re married to one, you’re married to them all. Lucius and Narcissa will become parents to you.” As if realizing what she had said, Pansy stretched out her arm and placed her hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “I know they’ll never replace your real parents,” she said before Hermione had the chance to say anything. “But, believe it or not, they are good people. At least to their own. I do know that the first child Narcissa had been pregnant with had been a girl and she had always wanted a daughter, especially since she lost that baby. The moment you marry Draco, you’ll be safe, and it won’t just be Draco being protective of you. It may take a bit, given that you are Muggle born, but from what you’ve told me at the Ministry, she’s already warming up to you.”
Hermione didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t imagine Lucius ever keeping her from harm, though she did have the feeling that Draco would die for her if necessary. Of course, he’d go kicking and screaming…
The Muggle born thanked the Pureblood again and the two said their goodbyes. Pulling out the final card, Hermione checked it and sighed. One more stop and hopefully, it won’t be nearly as difficult as Goyle had been.
(IV)(IV)
It had been a few months since Hermione had last seen Andromeda Tonks. On a good note, the Muggle born had made it a point to be at the memorial services for Ted, Remus, and Tonks, and she had done more than her fair share of crying.
The moment she lifted her hand to knock, the door opened. Startled, Hermione took a step back and came face to face with the Pureblood witch. “Andromeda!” she greeted with a smile.
The older witch returned her smile. “Ah, Miss Granger. I thought that was you. Please, do come in. I’ve been expecting you.”
This surprised the Muggle born even more. “You were?” she asked.
The Slytherin witch pulled out yesterday’s issue of the Daily Prophet and showed it to the younger witch. “I had a feeling you would come here offering me an invitation to your wedding,” she said with a smile. “Or, at least, I assumed you would. Draco is my nephew, after all, no matter how strained his mother and I are.”
“So you’re coming?” Hermione asked a bit more excited than she had expected to be.
Andromeda gave a single nod. “But first, I would like to speak with you, Miss Granger, if you don’t mind.”
The young witch was so thrilled she had to stop herself from squealing. Of all the people she was inviting to the wedding, this was the one woman she wanted there the most. Andromeda knew what Hermione and Draco were going through and what they will go through after they married.
“Would you like some tea?” the Pureblood witch offered as she led Hermione into the sitting room.
The house wasn’t very large, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in elegance. The sitting room was decorated in soft, warm tones with potted shrubbery “guarding” the doors. The Pureblood witch indicated a cloth covered green couch for Hermione to sit upon and the Muggle born felt compelled to sit on the edge with her legs tucked under her. “Tea sounds lovely, Mrs. Tonks,” she responded as she glanced around the room.
The entire room reminded her of the sitting room she often joined Narcissa in, but was much smaller and less… expensive looking. “You have a beautiful home,” the Muggle born commented as Andromeda handed her a teacup.
Sitting in the chair next to Hermione, the Pureblood former aristocrat picked up a flower decorated teapot and poured some tea in Hermione’s cup before pouring some in her own. “So, do you have the invitation?” the Pureblood asked as she placed the teapot on the small table between them.
“Oh, yes!” Hermione replied reaching into her robes and producing the envelope.
Andromeda took the envelope and opened it. Like Pansy, she gently pulled the invitation out and read it. “June 30^th? Bit soon, don’t you think?” she asked, glancing up at the Muggle born. “How long have the two of you been engaged?”
Hermione blushed and took a sip of her drink. Placing her cup back on the small saucer, she stared at her drink as she answered, “It’s been nearly a week now, I believe.” She glanced up at the older witch. “Draco and I started dating on his birthday and it’s been a whirlwind since.”
“Indeed,” Andromeda said slowly. “And the reason for this is?”
The Muggle born shrugged. “It started when he came to my office and consoled me after I had an argument with Ron.”
“Why were you arguing?”
Hermione gave a slight snort. “We were always fighting over something. That day in particular was over this boutique of flowers I had received from a secret admirer. They turned out to be from Draco, but at the time, I didn’t know. However, Ronald seemed to think I was cheating on him and we got into a nasty row that led to him breaking up with me. All because I wouldn’t tell him who sent them.”
“And it just so happened Draco was there,” the Slytherin finished for her.
Hermione nodded. “Over the course of the next few days or so, he would come to my office around lunchtime and offer to bring me out to lunch.”
“And you never denied him?”
The Muggle born shrugged. “Well, I was hungry,” she admitted. “And he always chooses the best of places.”
“Of course,” Andromeda commented as she took a sip from her own drink. “The Malfoys will always have the best. Keep that in mind, dear. The best restaurants, best dogs, best wives.”
“Best wives?” the young witch questioned with a frown.
Andromeda gave a single nod. “Lucius married Narcissa, who was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, Prefect, and Head Girl in her year. Abraxas, Lucius’s father, also married the most beautiful girl from his years of Hogwarts. She too had been both a Prefect and Head Girl. His father had done the same. Do you see the pattern?”
Hermione felt an odd lump in the pit of her stomach as she slowly nodded. “But I wasn’t the most beautiful, and I never made Head Girl,” she explained.
The Pureblood smiled. “Yet, you would have, Miss Granger. I’ve spoken to Severus’s portrait since his death. Both he and Dumbledore agreed that you would have made Head Girl had you been allowed to attend school that year. No doubt Draco knows this, as he and Severus were rather close. After all, Severus and Lucius were close and Lucius had named Severus godfather when Draco was born,” she pointed out. “Draco would have spent, and did spend, many hours in Severus’s office.”
The Muggle born had a hard time wrapping her mind around this. “So… what are you saying? That Draco’s only interested in me because I was going to be Head Girl?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t doubt he finds you attractive, Miss Granger,” Andromeda said. “I was merely pointing out that you are the best and Malfoys always get the best. His attraction lays in more than just your beauty and your brains. But don’t let that dissuade you.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Hermione said shortly. “Is that why you invited me in, Mrs. Tonks? To point out that I might just be another notch on Draco’s bedpost?”
Both of Andromeda’s eyebrows raised as she placed her teacup and saucer on the small table. “Indeed not,” she said. “Though it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, dear girl. Even I have heard the rumours of my nephew’s prowess. He is his father’s son after all.” She shook her head delicately. “Lucius is actually the reason I wanted to speak with you. Well, him and my sister.”
“Narcissa has been very kind to me since Draco and I started dating,” Hermione defended.
The Pureblood gave a ladylike sniff. “Again, I do not doubt your words, Miss Granger,” she replied. “With your reputation, I’d wager she’s already making plans to use this marriage to her advantage. Remember, my dear, she is my sister. I’ve known her all her life. What of your soon-to-be father-in-law? What has he said about it?”
Hermione sighed. “He doesn’t like it, but he has said that if we marry before he gets out of prison, he won’t protest it. That’s why there’s such a rush, honestly,” she said as she picked up her own cup and finished her drink. Grimacing, she continued, “I don’t want any confrontations. Draco and I love one another.”
“After only dating for what? A week? Two?”
The Gryffindor closed her eyes and shook her head. “He’s been in love with me since our fourth year and I’ve… Well, honestly…” she opened her eyes and met the Pureblood’s eyes with certainty. “I kept my own attraction buried for years. His bullying didn’t help either. When I found out he became a Death Eater, I pushed it back even further. By that time, it became apparent to me that even if I found him attractive, there was no way the feeling would ever be mutual.”
“And yet it was,” the older witch said. “With his father out of the way, the two of you are free to fall in love and begin making plans for the future. Pardon me for my rather personal question, Miss Granger, but are you a virgin?”
Hermione blinked in shock. “I’m sorry?”
“Forgive me, but if he’s proposing marriage, I can only assume that you are,” the Slytherin explained. “A Malfoy would never marry less. You said you needed to marry before Lucius gets out of prison. Are you expecting his release soon?”
Smiling, the Gryffindor nodded. “He and Minister Shacklebolt made a deal. He’s been giving information on other Death Eaters and their whereabouts.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Andromeda stated. “It’s what he did after the First War, too, though he also had the advantage of claiming the Imperius Curse. He can’t use that excuse this time, so no doubt he’s upping his game, so to speak.” She gave Hermione a measured look. “It’s interesting how all three of them are timing this, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Draco finds you and the two of you fall in love. Narcissa starts getting to know you. I’m sure she’s calling you her daughter by now, which is something I know she’s always wanted. And now Lucius is going to be out of prison, right after you marry his son,” she said. She sat back in her chair and smiled, shaking her head. “Such clever snakes, aren’t they?”
Hermione had never been someone to take so long to catch on, nor had she ever needed someone to point out the obvious. Hadn’t Lucius told her basically the same thing? She sat up straight and nearly dropped her cup. “Oh, my God!” She paled as she looked at Andromeda. “What do I do? How do I proceed?”
Andromeda shrugged. “Marry him,” she said simply. At Hermione’s astonished look, the Pureblood sighed. “You do love him, right? And of course he loves you. Don’t doubt that, Miss Granger. However, now that you are aware, you can turn the tables. Use your marriage to your own advantage. Plus, now that you know, you’ll be able to be aware of the other little games they’ll try to play.”
The Muggle born slowly nodded as she stared unseeing at her cup. She knew Draco had sent those flowers, but had he known what Ron’s reaction would be? Now that she thought about it, truly thought about it, it was odd that he just happened down that corridor right after her row with Ron. And Maisey rarely ever left his side. Was that on purpose, too? What was his angle there?
“I should give you some warnings,” Andromeda spoke, breaking Hermione out of her trance. “First. Once you’re married, Narcissa is going to want to start inviting people to the Manor and hosting parties again. She’ll go through all the motions and even teach you how do to it yourself. My advice is to listen to what she tells you. Over the next few weeks or months, she’s going to treat you like the daughter she’s never had. You can learn a lot from her. Don’t let the privilege go to waste. Once she’s sure of her own personal stature, she’ll slowly stop being so gentile. After all, you’re still a Muggle born.” Hermione opened her mouth, but the Pureblood held up her hand. “Don’t let her fool you, Miss Granger. Don’t let any of them fool you. Draco loves you. Because of this, Narcissa and Lucius will tolerate you. But not a single one of them like Muggles or Muggle borns. The only reason Narcissa has any interest in you at all is because of what you will mean to the family.”
The Pureblood paused a moment to allow those words to sink in for Hermione. “Secondly,” she continued, “Lucius will be coming out of prison soon. There are two things you need to make certain of. When you came here today and I offered you tea, you took the first sip. Never do that with any drink Lucius offers you. His family business deals with potions. He knows enough about potions, herbs, and poisons to outdo Severus Snape.” She stared at the younger witch. “The other thing, never sit in a room alone with him. Remember, I knew him as a boy, a teenager, and as a man. I know you’ve been told several times by now that he wasn’t made a Death Eater just because his vault is larger than the Queen of England’s castle. Narcissa does not say anything about his… conquests because he never does anything openly.
“I don’t believe he would actually do anything to you,” she assured, though she looked a bit uncertain, “however, I wouldn’t put it pass him. After all, even a Muggle looks the same as a witch when the lights are out.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. What was she getting herself into? She shook her head. “But I can talk to Draco,” she said. “I can convince him that his parents don’t need to be living in the house with us, right? I mean, they have so many homes all over Europe.”
Andromeda seemed to think on this for a moment before giving a small nod. “It’s possible they may allow you and Draco the Manor for a short time. You will be newlyweds and working on your first child, after all.”
“My first…”
The Pureblood nodded. “That brings me to my third. Draco,” she stated. “You may be interested in a career, Miss Granger, however, going to the Ministry everyday will be nearly impossible when you have a babe on your hip. And you will get pregnant, do not doubt that. The estate is large. I’m sure Draco’s given you a tour by now and has given you an overview of what they do. My advice would be to find something there that you can do. There’s potions, herbology, breeding, accounting, managing… any number of things. You could even clean stalls in their stables if you like,” she suggested with a shrug. “Don’t do that, though. While Draco may have ‘forgotten’ your Muggle blood, neither Narcissa nor Lucius have. You do not want to give them more ammunition for their animosity. However, try to choose something that you can work on at the estate. Trust me. When you have a screaming toddler running around, you’ll want to stay home. The first eleven years of a child’s life are the most crucial as they will learn everything from you and your husband.”
“And their grandparents,” the younger witch grumbled. “Unless I can convince them to leave.”
The Slytherin gave a slight nod. “I wouldn’t count on that, however,” she said. “Lucius’ life is his estate. He could handle a couple months away, but he won’t stay away indefinitely. And once Lucius is out of prison, you’ll rarely see Narcissa away.”
Hermione frowned. “If she’s rarely away, then how would Lucius be able to… you know… that?”
Andromeda shrugged. “We went to school together and Lucius and Narcissa dated almost the entire time. However, he was often seen luring a witch or two into the boys’ dormitories with his mates. Narcissa knew, but I’m not sure she cared. She was a virgin when they married.”
The Muggle born held up a hand. “Hang on,” she stopped the older witch. “Narcissa said they didn’t marry right after Hogwarts. In fact, Lucius courted a Muggle.”
The Pureblood raised an eyebrow. “Did he?” she asked, almost as though she had been unaware. “What Muggle?”
Hermione shrugged. “I’m not sure? Though, she did say something about the royal bloodline,” she explained. “Maybe someone not as closely related? I don’t know. I’ve wanted to look more into it…”
Andromeda gave a single, subtle shake of her head. “It’s not important,” she said. “Lucius was just starting as a Death Eater at the time. No doubt he was attempting to lure some unfortunate Muggle for Voldemort’s sick pleasure.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t worry about it, however, as I’ve said before, I would exhibit caution when you’re around them. Never take the first drink, Miss Granger. Watch them. If they pour drinks from a single decanter, let them taste it first. If they should hand you a Butterbeer or some other drink that is single serve, don’t drink it.”
“You said ‘they’,” the Muggle born pointed out with a frown. “You were saying just Lucius at first. Should I worry Narcissa…?”
Andromeda sighed. “Right now, no, and maybe not even after Lucius gets out. I don’t know how things will be once he’s home. I’m just going by what I know from when we were younger.”
“So things might have changed,” Hermione suggested. “Lucius is about to get out of Azkaban. I doubt he’ll fancy going back in…”
The Pureblood’s eyes narrowed. “And if he does try something, are you going to tell someone?” she hissed. “Miss Granger, what do you know of Draco and his family? You wish to marry him, but how well do you actually know him?”
“We talk…”
“You talk!” Andromeda interrupted scathingly. “You cannot rely on words, Miss Granger. The Malfoys are artists at weaving the English language. If you aren’t careful, they’ll have you believing that whatever they are doing, no matter how wrong it is, is a good thing. Do not let naivety and missing your parents cloud your judgement.”
The Gryffindor’s frown deepened. Pansy had said the Malfoys were good people, which Hermione did not believe for one moment, especially in relation to Lucius. Andromeda, who had known them for a good bit of her life, was warning Hermione to exercise extreme caution. While she could understand doing so with Lucius, neither Narcissa nor Draco had given her any reason to doubt their sincerity since Hermione had started dating the Pureblood wizard. Sure, Andromeda had mentioned a few things that had given the Muggle born a start, but that was more to do with Draco scheming to get Hermione to marry him. It was romantic, not evil.
While the Muggle born was alarmed at what Andromeda had said about Lucius, she knew there was little to worry about with Draco or his mother. She would have to talk to Draco.
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