Halloween Mix-Up

Halloween Mix-Up

by: Tassana Burrfoot





Chapter Twenty-One: Social Surprises





When Draco had suggested taking a carriage to Malfoy Manor, Hermione had scoffed. It was winter and snow was as thick as a blanket on the ground. But, as they entered the gates to the Manor, she understood why.



As cold as it was, as much snow as there was, there wasn\'t a bit a snow on the ground inside. In fact, the fields were as green as ever. The driveway was lined with cherry blossoms that looked as though they were in full bloom. Deer and albino peacocks grazed in the grass and along the edges of the road.



But what was most impressive was the house itself. The gargantuan building stood tall and proud. One could easily see that it was quite ancient, even if the stone work looked clean and new.



As Draco helped her out of the carriage, Hermione marveled at the beautiful garden. She immediately recognized several plants that were useful when making potions and was suddenly understanding as to why Draco was so good in the subject. He had most likely spent his childhood learning about potions.



"It\'s beautiful," she whispered to him as they approached the large double doors.



The doors were masterpieces in their own right. Made of solid dark wood, they carried intricate designs of slithering snakes made of wrought iron.



Draco smiled. "Wait until you see the inside," he replied, opening the doors with a wave of his wand.



Hermione was not disappointed. Stepping across the threshold, she held her breath. The inside was decorated in deep greens and grays. A large tapestry hung from the ceiling and stopped midway. It was the Slytherin coat of arms.



To their left was a large marble vase with intertwining snakes running along its surface. "Aconite," she commented, naming the beautiful plant which the vase held.



Draco nodded. "My mother loves that plant. We have more of them, spread throughout the house. They are actually quite..."



"Draco!" called a voice from the stair, followed by a bark.



The two teens looked up to see Narcissa Malfoy approaching them at a fast pace, her arms outstretched. Draco rushed to meet her halfway and engulfed her in a hug. "Mother! I\'ve missed you so much!" he exclaimed.



"Oh, my darling!" she returned, kissing him on the cheek. "It\'s been forever since I\'ve seen you!"



He laughed, "Only a few short months."



"Short? No. A few long months. Far too long for a woman to be without her son," she corrected him.



Taking her hand into his, he led her towards the Muggle-born Gryffindor. "Mum? I\'d like you to meet Hermione Granger. This is the girl I\'ve been telling you about," he introduced.



"It\'s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione greeted, holding out her hand to the woman.



Narcissa glared at the girl in obvious dislike. "Draco, tell me you are jesting?" she inquired. "You can\'t possibly be serious. To even think my own son would turn blood-traitor..."



Draco\'s face dropped as Hermione dropped her proffered hand. Before he could comment, he felt a tug on his pants. He looked down and his face lighted up again. "Abraxas!" he said, picking up a small dog.



The dog was about the size and likeness of a Jack Russell Terrier. It was mostly white with a black diamond on its back, two black ears, and a black nub of a tail. "That\'s a crup," Hermione acknowledged, looking at the dog curiously.



Draco nodded. "My father gave him to me for my eighth birthday. I named him Abraxas after my grandfather, who had died a couple years before."



Narcissa looked from her son to the girl he had brought home. "I was really hoping you had brought home a decent girl, Draco. Your letter had said as much," she commented, nervously.



"Hermione is a decent girl, Mother," Draco told her. "Get to know her a bit and you\'ll see. You might even like her."



The older woman gave him a doubtful smile. "I suppose there\'s nothing to do for it now. I have a surprise for you as well," she told him.



Draco looked to Hermione curiously and placed the crup on the floor. Taking the girl\'s hand, he followed his mother into the drawing room.



Hermione didn\'t know if she\'d ever stop being impressed with this house. The drawing room was like a work of art. A black grand piano sat in a corner surrounding by comfortable-looking green chairs. The fireplace had three large dark green armchairs situated evenly in front of it. If she didn\'t know better, she\'d think someone was occupying one of those chairs...



Abraxas ran to the chair in question and leapt into it. Hermione felt all the blood leave her face as the person who occupied that chair grunted, "Narcissa, darling? Was that Draco at the door?"



"Yes, dear," Narcissa responded. "And he\'s brought a guest with him."



To the horror of both Draco and Hermione, the crup jumped off the chair and a tall and dark figure stood. Lucius Malfoy straightened his robes and turned to face them. Only one word could sum up the look he gave Hermione: hatred.



The older man approached the girl, but before he could get too close, Draco stepped between them. "Father, I didn\'t realize you were going to be home," he said.



Lucius glanced at his son. "Yes, Azkaban decided to release me. Regardless of what happened last year, I still have connections within the Ministry. And since I hadn\'t done anything too horrid, they let me go."



It was now that Hermione had wished she had worn her gloves. Thankfully, she had thought to pack them in her trunk. She just didn\'t think she\'d need them to meet Draco\'s mother.



She watched as Lucius strode towards her. His face was indifferent as he began circling her like a great king cobra circled a mouse. And she felt very much like a mouse. His cold gray eyes bore into her.



"What an intriguing surprise for you to grace us with your presence, Miss Granger," Lucius sneered, not sounding the least bit intrigued.



"I invited her here, Father," Draco confessed. "She had no where else to go and I wanted her to come."



The older man tilted his head slightly. "No where else? The Weasleys did not offer you a place for the holiday, Miss Granger?"



Hermione closed her eyes. She could literally feel the venom in his voice. "Draco asked me to come and I wanted to come here. Honestly, sir, had I known you would\'ve been here, I wouldn\'t have come."



Draco shook his head. "Nonsense. Where else would you have gone?" he asked.



Lucius raised a single eyebrow. "Indeed. Though, it seems to me any other place would have been better. Don\'t you agree, Miss Granger? Tell me, what did you do to cause my son to turn into a blood-traitor?"



The girl bit her lip. Now, how could she answer that without saying anything? She was not about to tell him about the spell. "I… I fell in love with him," she blurted, closing her eyes as she said it.



Draco smiled. He knew she would probably take those words back later, but that didn\'t mean he wouldn\'t cherish hearing them now. "And I love her, Father," he returned.



"Such traitorous words, Draco," Lucius sneered. "I could disown you for such filth."



Draco raised an eyebrow. "But, you won\'t," he said. "I am the only heir to the Malfoy name and fortune. Disown me and all hopes for the Malfoy line die."



"You honestly think I would see my fortune go to a blood-traitor and his filthy Mudblood?" the man snarled lowly.



Draco just shrugged. "We aren\'t married, Father. Being in love doesn\'t always mean marriage. We haven\'t even left Hogwarts yet! Who knows? In a few months or so, our opinions of one another might change. We might go back to hating each other."



Hermione knew where Draco was going and decided to follow his lead. "You know how teenage love goes, Mr. Malfoy," she added. "One minute you\'re in love with one person, the next it\'s someone else entirely. But, Draco and I are basking in this moment. At least for a little while."



Lucius\' eyes snapped to his son. "You are using protection?"



Draco scoffed, "Of course! I have no desire to get any girl pregnant any time soon. Besides, I would hate to have any illegitimate children trying to claim the Malfoy fortune."



"Good," the man replied. "So, I guess she\'s sleeping in your room?"



Narcissa looked scandalized. "I think not! A Mudblood sharing my son\'s room?! It\'s bad enough he\'s claiming love for the wretch."



"Mother!" Draco snapped. "I don\'t care how much you dislike her, Hermione is my girlfriend and I will not have you insult her in my presence."



"Draco, don\'t talk to your mother that way," Lucius scolded.



Draco\'s nose wrinkled. "Then tell her not to call my girlfriend names," he bit back, causing Lucius\' eyes to narrow. "It\'s not everyday that I bring a girl home. If I\'m bringing her home, then that means something. Please, before you start judging her, get to know her."



"She\'s a Mudblood, son," Lucius answered, as if that answered everything.



"I wouldn\'t care if she was a bloody ferret," Draco snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "She\'s still my girlfriend and I still brought her home. She\'s not a beggar. She\'s the best student in the school, even Snape will agree with me. Regardless of her unfortunate birth, she was born to very well off parents."



"Draco," Hermione interrupted him, "you don\'t have to defend me. Actions speak louder than words, anyway. Give it a week. If they come around, they come around. If not, we will count our losses."



The young Slytherin sighed. "You\'re right. Here, let me show you to our rooms."



(II) (II)



Hermione loved taking the short tour from the drawing room to Draco\'s rooms. It was thrilling to see the various portraits of long dead Malfoys and all the intricate designs in the stonework of the walls. Malfoy Manor was a place filled with as much magic and history as Hogwarts. Everything had a story to it, a history.



But, it was Draco\'s rooms that made her smile. The walls were painted in white with magpie silhouettes at regular intervals. Two large posters and a large tapestry graced the wall. Above the large fireplace was the Slytherin crest. The mantle held a shadowbox within which was an autographed Quaffle. Three green armchairs stood before the fireplace, almost mimicking the drawing room.



A green couch sat nearby with a Magpie throw and Magpie pillows on it. In front of the couch were a mahogany coffee table and two green beanbag chairs.



Near the door was a mahogany desk that was overcrowded with parchments and books. On the corner of the desk was another shadowbox, this one slightly smaller than the one on the mantle. It held a Snitch autographed by Eunice Murray.



"The Montrose Magpies?" Hermione inquired, as she picked up a book about the Quidditch team.



Draco smiled and nodded. "Are you a fan?" he asked.



She placed the book back where she found it and shook her head. "But, I have read about them. They are one of Britain\'s best teams."



"Correction, love. They are Britain\'s best team. They won the British and Irish League thirty-two times and the European Champions twice. Not to mention, some of the best players in the world come from the Magpies," he recited happily.



She gave him a bemused look. Hermione would never understand boys and their sports.



He gave her a quick tour of the rooms, pointing out the bathroom and his bedroom. She marveled at the bedroom.



A four poster king-sized bed adorned the bedroom. The bed had a large Slytherin comforter atop it, though she assumed Magpie sheets were underneath. A large mahogany dresser stood against the wall next to a full-sized, stand alone mirror. Two mahogany nightstands stood on either side of the bed, each adorned with candleholders and other... junk.



Typical boy, was all Hermione could think. But, at least his room was cleaner than any of the Weasleys\' rooms. Well... at least you could see the floor.



"I have a walk-in closet as well, but I don\'t think we need to worry about that. And, if you don\'t wish to share the bed, the couch folds out into a full-sized bed," he told her.



"You don\'t expect me to sleep on the couch?" she questioned, looking appalled at the idea.



He shook his head. "No, but I will if you want me to. Course, I would really rather sleep with you in my own bed. But, that choice is entirely yours to make."



Hermione nodded as she walked over to her trunk. For a moment, she had been surprised to find it there. Then she remembered that the Malfoys were an old, wealthy wizarding family who most likely had many house elves.



As she began taking her clothes out of the trunk, Draco made space for her in his dresser. "If you need more space, I can make some more. In fact, some of this stuff could probably go into the closet," he said as he shifted some undershirts into another drawer.



"Thank you," she accepted, placing her own clothes in the space he provided.



She slipped on her gloves and he smiled at her. "I guess that means you\'re ready to eat?" he asked.



All she could do was nod.





(III) (III)



By the time Hermione and Draco began making their way to the dining hall, it was apparent the portraits had found out about her. Every so often, they would hear words like "Mudblood" and "blood-traitor" whispered within paintings.



Hermione kept very close to Draco. She could literally feel the unwelcome the Manor was now portraying. It was as if the building itself were protesting her presence.



They entered the dining hall and Hermione was immediately reminded of Hogwarts. A long mahogany table sat in the very center of the hall. Straight-backed chairs lined the table\'s left and right sides. An even larger chair graced the head of the table. Large chandeliers kept the room in light.



Sitting at the head was Lucius. To his left sat Narcissa. The older couple watched as the two teens approached the right of the table. Draco, being the gentleman he was, pulled the chair out for Hermione and waited for her to be seated. Once seated, he scooted the chair closer to the table for her before taking the right-hand seat from his father.



"Draco, I highly doubt you need to waste your good mannerisms on this young tripe," Lucius commented as the first course was served.



"You are entirely correct, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione agreed. "His good mannerisms are a complete waste. Especially when the head of the house fails to set an example and perform them himself. After all, isn\'t it decorum that a gentleman rises when a lady enters a room?"



Lucius\' cold eyes glared at her. "Miss Granger, when a lady enters a room, I always stand. But, seeing that the only lady present is my own wife and she is already sitting, then I do not see the point in standing."



Hermione glanced at Draco briefly, but knew he wouldn\'t cut in. This was her battle. So, she glanced at herself, checking herself and patting her stomach, chest, and thighs.



"Whatever are you doing?" Narcissa inquired, staring at the girl as though she had grown a second head.



The Gryffindor sighed, "Begging your forgiveness, but the last I checked, I was a lady. Unless by some magical means I was transformed into a man, I do believe that I am female."



"Being female and being a lady are two different things," Lucius told her. "For one, a lady does not pat herself in public. For two, a lady does not wear gloves except to a formal. Since we are not being formal tonight, there is no need for those gloves at the dinner table."



Hermione\'s eyes widened and she looked at Draco. Thankfully, he returned her looked. "Uh, those are special gloves, Father," the boy hesitated. "She has to wear them when she does anything that requires her touching things."



Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Really? She did not wear them earlier," he pointed out. "And there was nothing wrong with her hands."



Narcissa gave a slight nod. "Lucius is right. Miss Granger, we have to ask you to remove those gloves at the dinner table. It is not proper and you aren\'t even dressed to wear gloves."



All the blood left Hermione\'s face. "Mrs. Malfoy, please. I beg you not to ask me this."



Both of the older Malfoys stared at her. "Miss Granger, if you do not remove those gloves, I will have to ask you to leave this table," Lucius commented. "For one so set on being treated like a lady, you certainly don\'t act like one. When you are staying at someone\'s house, you are supposed to do as they say. We are not asking you to run a marathon or strip for us. Those gloves do not belong at the dinner table, so, take them off."



There was nothing Hermione could do. She was too hungry to leave the table. With a deep sigh, she shed herself of the gloves.



They spent the remainder of the meal in silence. Three courses were served and Hermione found she rather enjoyed each course. Thankfully, she was able to avoid touching anyone, with the exception of Draco, who had found it his duty to constantly rest his left hand on her thigh when it suited him.



Once the table was cleared of the last course, the four people stood up from the table. "Now, Miss Granger, if you wish to be treated like a lady, I suggest you act as one," Lucius said as he pushed his seat in. "We will attempt this again tomorrow. And might I throw in a suggestion? Rid yourself of those disgusting gloves. A lady does not need to wear gloves in public unless she is going out formally."



Hermione did not comment save to nod her head once. She then proceeded to follow Draco to his rooms where they could both find some relief from the tension that had been in the air.

---

Author\'s Note: Yeah, I had written this chapter earlier today and it was awesome. So much better then what I have now. But, then my wonderful Microsoft Word Processor decided it wanted to fuck with me and did a whole "error report" thing where I had literally lost everything that I had spent three hours writing. Worse still, I could hardly remember what I wrote, save for a few pointers, and I hadn\'t written it anywhere else. So, while this chapter is still good (Thank the gods), it\'s not as good as it would have been. Trust me.



So, what do ya\'ll think of Hermione\'s first day in Malfoy Manor? Aren\'t I just full of surprises? Personally, I like the little crup.