Mrs.Malfoy

Author note: For some reason, I can’t keep my fingers off the keyboard. Good for you, but bad for my laundry…/sigh. Anywho, now that Vamps helped me reconstruct new sturdier plot bunny cages, I am confident I can continue this story without any more drastic complications. You will be happy to know that I have done a bit of considerable research at hp-lexicon in order to continue with my plans for the story. I hope I do it justice.

The words kept repeating themselves in Hermione’s thoughts.

“Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, you were correct. It is a boy; however, there is some kind of magic preventing me from ascertaining the gestation. There is a simple spell that you could do on your own.”

And so, Hermione was handed a pamphlet as she scheduled her next visit. The wand movement looked simple enough. Now, it was up to Hermione to decide if she actually wanted to know. This made her slightly upset. She hadn’t yet realized the implications if the child should be born with black hair, instead of blonde. She would have to be rid of Lucius before then.

Hermione sighed as she walked solemnly to O’Tat’s. Along the way, she happened to notice the day was quiet, a peaceful sort of quiet that was best enjoyed walking in the sun. Her attentions were directed to a small table across the street. There sat a mother, around Hermione’s age, holding an infant in her arms. She briefly wondered if it was someone she knew from school and almost crossed the road to find out and offer congratulations, but she was already running a bit behind. She wanted to be at the restaurant before Lucius showed up. It was her luck then that the man took hold of her arm at that moment.

“Admiring the idea of what you can’t possibly have,” he whispered in her ear. “As I said, Tibby and Kreacher will raise my child. You will have nothing to do with it other than feedings, nappy changes, and baths.”

Hermione could have laughed. Lucius Malfoy said nappies. At least the thought livened up her mood. She knew his threats would never be carried out. She knew she would win this fight. And then she would show Lucius Malfoy and his damnable house elves what for. It was Kreacher, for Merlin’s sake. She could put aside her S.P.E.W in order to make that little troll suffer.

“As you have already pointed out to me, husband. I am getting quite hungry, and you wouldn’t want to subject your unborn child to malnutrition, would you? Shall we?” she said with arrogance as she entered the establishment.

The light aromas of home filled her nostrils. Home? Yes, it was the smell of potatoes. Fried potatoes! And was that ground beef? Cheeseburgers?

“What kind of place is this?” Malfoy snorted.

Hermione chuckled. “I believe it’s a muggle restaurant. They seem to serve muggle dishes here. And before you stomp off, I am extremely hungry. We can eat here or go to the Three Broomsticks. Your choice.”

“Where else?” he said with a drawl as he led her back to the door.

“Oh, wonderful. Ron, Harry and Ginny are there. I passed them on my way out of my appointment. They mentioned they would be there for a few minutes. Let’s go.”

Hermione felt a hard grip on her elbow.

“I shall endeavour to consume this filth. I will not be seen dining with those disgusting blood traitors. At least here, I know that most of these people are purebloods just simply curious as to what mudblood cuisine is like. In an effort to know my enemy, I shall also submit to my curiosity.”

Hermione just kept rolling her eyes at Lucius’ grand proclamation. She desperately wanted to just say, ‘Sit and eat’ but she knew she would more than likely pay for that remark later.

A tall woman dressed in an unusually bright orange and green jumpsuit approached the table.

“Hallo, I’m Delilah! I’ll be your server this afternoon. Could I direct you to the special of the day? It’s the triple cheeseburger deluxe, with lettuce, onion, tomato, mayonnaise, ketchup, pickle, mustard, and anchovies. It comes with fried potato strings and cold slaw.”

“Cole slaw,” Hermione corrected. “Yes, that sounds great for me…however…I…I’m allergic to anchovies.”

“Righty Oh dear, No anchovies on yours. And you, sir?” Delilah asked turning to Lucius who was staring in disgust at the platters on the other tables. All he could see was fat beef dripping in grease and slathered in things that looked like blood, baby vomit, grass, and hair conditioner.

“Do you perhaps serve simple salads?”

“Yes, we do. We have a superb grilled chicken salad. Hot, fresh, lean grilled chicken chunked on top of a bed of iceberg lettuce with tomato wedge, grated cheese, and onions, with your choice from Vinaigrette, French, or House dressing.”

“That will do. Vinaigrette, please,” Lucius chose.

“Raspberry, Blackberry, or straight Vinaigrette?”

“Straight.”

“Very well. Please be sure to remove your napkins, utensils, and personal belongings from the table in five minutes. Don’t want your meal on your heads, do we?” the woman laughed as she took the order to a small window and slapped it down on a spike.

Hermione watched this wondering why on earth the woman didn’t give the order to the cooks. Then the woman touched her wand to the paper she had written their choices on and it was gone. Hermione supposed it was all for the look of a real muggle diner.

They sat in silence once their food arrived, just as Delilah said. And to Lucius’ amazement, the salad was perfect.

“Not bad for mudblood food,” he commented.

Hermione sighed. “Honestly, it’s the same stuff you eat at home just prepared a different way. You’ve had steak, right? Well, cheeseburgers are sort of like steak all chopped up and served on a bun with cheese. It’s actually quite delicious and hits the spot.”

“Hits the spot?”

She had the sense to look away. “Sorry, muggle term.”

He snorted as he marked the check with the tip of his wand. “Shall we go? I have some things to which to attend. During which time, you might find it useful to procure things for the child. Clothes and the nature. I remember how Narcissa used to fawn over Dr…I understand it is something women enjoy doing when expecting. I advise you now to make your choices wisely. I will not have my son looking like…you,” he said as they exited the restaurant. He handed her a small piece of parchment. “That is my account number. It is spelled to only be legible to merchants once they touch their licensed wands to it. So, do not think about doing anything remotely moronic.” He turned to face her briefly enough to kiss her cheek swiftly.

This startled Hermione. A kiss from Malfoy in the middle of the day in the middle of town! Then she realized why he did such a thing. They were being watched. And by the looks of it, Hermione was about to get an earful.

It didn’t take half a second for Ron to be in her face. “How could you let him do that? Right in public, no less. Are you mental?”

“Yes, I am, Ron. I’ve always been mental, just like you keep telling me every single year since the day we met! If you’re quite through being my personal psychiatrist, I have shopping to do. Besides, he only did that because you were watching. You know he gets his jollies by watching you squirm, just like Draco did. So, just let it be. He is my husband and I can’t very well shove him off of me in front of the entire street. Like I said, I have shopping to do. Ginny, would you like to join me?”

Ginny nodded her head and took her friend by the arm. Together, they marched down the street to the nearest boutique for expecting mothers and infants, leaving Harry to tug Ron back into the Three Broomsticks to floo to Diagon Alley. Ron needed Quidditch before he exploded.

*****

“What about this one?” Ginny asked picking up a delicate pale green sleeper. “It’s green. And it comes with free family crest embroidery. Surely, he’ll approve of that.”

Hermione nodded and placed the small garment into her shopping bag. There were several things she had picked out by the time it was ready to leave.

“Should I send this to the house, Mrs. Malfoy?” the clerk asked sincerely.

Hermione flinched at the name, but covered it rather well. She had learned at least that much by Lucius’ hand. “Yes, please. And I need the bassinette and the changing table in the front window.”

“Only the best for a Malfoy child. Shall I have the family crest applied to those as well?”

“Yes, please do so. My husband will adore it,” Hermione said easily putting on a fake smile and using her most placating voice. She turned to Ginny when the clerk turned her back and then rolled her eyes. Ginny stifled a giggle when the clerk returned.

“Here you are; the receipt. I know Mr. Malfoy is particular about his records. I daresay, one time my assistant forgot to give him the receipt and he had her in tears before he was through.”

Hermione tried to show sympathy, for she knew just how condemnable he could be. “Yes, well. I need these sent this evening. Lucius expects the nursery to be ready before long.”

The clerk looked Hermione up and down. “You don’t look far along at all. Perhaps you should go ahead to Madame Malkin’s for your maternity robes. She should be able to calculate how far along you are and adjust the fitting charms to compensate. She opened a new shop here in Hogsmeade not long ago.”

Hermione nodded and did just that. The new shop was only a couple doors down. They had been perusing the racks for a while. Ginny had told her the green colour was all off, especially since Hermione was still feeling the effects of morning sickness and going pale from time to time.

“But I have to look like his wife, Gin,” she said. “This reminds me, I need your help with something. I can’t discuss it here, but I’ll try to come to the Burrow for Christmas. We can talk about it then.”

“Sure, whatever you need, Hermione. You know that. Besides, it would be nice having you with us for the holidays again this year,” she said as she hugged her friend. “Now, what about the silver one? It’s still a Slytherin colour, festive for the season, and it looks better on you than green.”

Hermione looked the dress robes over once more. She didn’t notice that Madame Malkin was approaching fast.

“Miss Weasley! Mrs. Malfoy! What an honour to have you here! Please, come now, what is it I can humbly do for you fine women today?”

Hermione almost rolled her eyes again. “Thank you, Madam Malkin. I am here for maternity robes, if you please.”

The older woman squealed. “CONGRATULATIONS, Mrs. Malfoy! Oh what wonderful news, indeed.”

“Indeed.”

Ginny noticed the mutter coming from Hermione’s lips. The drawl, the boredom; it sounded so familiar. She narrowed her eyes on Hermione, but followed as Madam Malkin ushered her to the fitting rooms.

“Here, Mrs. Malfoy…”

“Please, call me Hermione. After everything you’re doing for me in my fragile state, it would only be proper to consider you a friend of the family,” Hermione gushed.

Madam Malkin absolutely turned white. “Yes, Hermione,” she said with a rather humble smile. “Absolutely! Let me just get the measurements then.”

Hermione watched the woman fuss more than normal. She heard small parts of whispers like: family friends with a Malfoy and wait till I tell Hepsthaba. It was all Hermione could do to not laugh out loud.

“Yes, these charms will work quite nicely. They will adjust when you begin to show in a couple months.”

“A couple months?”

“Yes, have you not done the charm? Oh, forgive me. Of course you have. I am correct in my estimates, am I not? And a boy, too! I’m sure you’ll have him spoiled. All mothers spoil their sons. Fathers take after daughters, as you know. Mothers to sons. Not quite sure why. But I hear it’s the same in the muggle world, as well. Right, well, here you go. And please, no payment necessary; consider it a gift.”

The last sentence brought Hermione out of her trance. “I’m sorry? Did you say no payment?”

“I hope you don’t mind. I thought since you said mentioned we were…family friends…that I could gift these to you.”

Hermione nodded blankly. “Yes, of course. Thank you so very much. I have to be going. I just realized I have to meet my husband for dinner, and I haven’t even began to alert the house elves to his wishes, yet,” she was careful to say as not to let on that she was the one who did the cooking…and cleaning, dishes, laundry, scrubbing, gardening. She sighed by then.

“Ginny, could you make sure these get sent to the Manor? I have another errand to which I must attend. I’ll see you at Christmas,” Hermione asked hugging her friend and bidding farewell.

Ginny did as her friend requested and watched as Hermione hurriedly left the boutique. When she finalized the shipment for the new robes, she went outside to see Hermione dashing behind a building and down a path some ways down the street.

AN: I was going to tell you who the father was in this chapter…but I stuck that little bunny back in its cage, as cute as he was. Anyways, forgive me. I thought it best to keep some secrets…secrets, for now anyways. And yes, I know who it is already. And yes, I have it planned out how everyone finds out. And it is quite reminiscent of…how did my sister put it…a muggle soap opera. Quite literally, actually. It was a scene in one, if I remember correctly. You’ll just have to tune in for another episode of… “MRS. MALFOY”