Transfiguration of the Heart

Sorry about the wait on this one... I've had a busy week. Hope you all enjoy it, though!

Thank you so much to my readers and reviewers.


Chapter 5- In The Snake's Den

Hermione adjusted the bag she carried on her shoulder, looking along the lengthy stone drive up to a giant shadow of a house in the distance. Lights filled all of the windows facing the front of the house, casting an orange and yellow glow out onto the very front portion of the grounds. She was sure she had never seen a house so large… okay, it was not a house. It was an estate… and incredibly large estate for that matter.

Even Viktor’s parents’ house in Bulgaria was not as large this, and his parents were of the richest in that country. For a moment, she wondered just where Malfoy got the money to keep such a place like this, and spend as lavishly as he did elsewhere. She knew the answer, though she had never seen complete evidence. Either through inheritances or through business dealings that were not necessarily kosher, he was able to keep his family at the peak of wealth and prominence in the community.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she uttered under her breath.

Viktor chuckled in the quiet night air as they continued their walk up the long path. “You vill be fine, Hermione. I vill be with you.”

She rolled her eyes, hoping he did not see it in the dark. Really, already this weekend was much more trouble than what it was worth. After a very stressing first week teaching, all she wanted was to sit with other professors and have some firewhiskey. That was all she wanted. Instead she had voluntarily been accosted by an overzealous broom as they made their way to Hogsmeade, just because she was going with Viktor. They could have shrunk their luggage very easily and walked to Hogsmeade, but he had insisted on riding brooms. Honestly, did he not get enough of it every other day of his life?

At least the apparition was simple enough, and then they shrunk their luggage once at Malfoy Manor, to carry it the rest of the way up to the front door.

Hermione stood still for a moment, under the grand, columned outside entrance and looked up around her. This house was even bigger than it had appeared further down the stone drive. “You’re sure you sent them an owl, and they replied back to you?”

Viktor looked over at her in the bright light, his smile widening, “Relax Herm-own-ninny. Lucius smells fear and preys on it.”

“Thanks,” she said blandly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. Why was she here? It was an insult to Harry’s good name to be here, she was sure of it. And surely it was an insult to all Muggle-borns that she had actually decided to show up to this event and try to act the pureblooded date, even if everyone knew she was not.

Viktor raised the heavy knocker, in the shape of a snake, on the front door. Its eyes glowed red for a minute, and then went to nothing.

How appropriate.

The ornate door soon opened wide and it took her a moment to realize that she needed to look down to find who had opened it. She had forgotten about the house-elves! How could she have forgotten that Malfoy Manor would be crawling with them? Oh this would most certainly be an unpleasant visit. If Lucius so much as raised his cane toward one of them while she was here…

Calm down, Granger. You’re just angry because you can’t sit in front of the fire and read your weekend away.

“Mr. Krum,” the house-elf said and bowed his head in reverence. “Ms. Granger.”

“Hello,” Hermione smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Lugknut, Hermione Granger,” he said. “Lugknut will show you to your room?”

Hermione tried to retain her luggage and carry it up herself, but the dejected look Lugknut gave her was enough to make her pause for a moment, allowing the sprightly elf to yank it out of her hand. Why did they not want freedom? Couldn’t they see what wizards did to them? She sighed, and watched the small house-elf hobble further into the foyer, beckoning them in. Viktor motioned for her to enter first.

No words could quite describe exactly how she felt about the house. All she knew was that, on the inside, it was much more beautiful than she could have ever imagined it being. After all, being owned by dark wizards was enough to make anyone believe the main color pallet would be bleak blacks and greys.

No, that’s just Snape, Hermione.

She smiled at the thought. In the past week, they had elevated from a relationship ripe with short, clipped remarks to full conversations, with intellectual debate if they found something they disagreed on. Sure, he still spoke snidely to her, and sneered and smirked, but she figured that it was so engrained into his mind, that it would take some time to break him of those habits. Not that she was planning on it, though. She was simply thrilled that he could look at her as a colleague, rather than what he had once thought of her as a student. That was all she could ask of him.

“Vere is Lucius?” asked Viktor.

“He and the mistress are dressing for supper, Mister Krum,” Lugknut said. “Lugknut is to inform you that you and Hermione Granger are to dress and meet in the dining room.”

Viktor nodded and slowed his pace a bit, looking over at Hermione. “Nice house, is it not?”

“It is,” she said. “Actually quite surprising how light and cheerful it is.”

He chuckled, “That vould be Narcissa. You vill see soon enough that she is very different from her husband.”

“If she is anything like her sister…”

“She is not Bellatrix,” Viktor said.

Silence fell over them so that they could hear a clock somewhere in the house chiming the hour. The house was eerily quiet, but she supposed with the vastness of such a place, that everyone was so far spread out that it was hard to make any loud sounds noticeable. They climbed a large staircase, up to a second level, and turned down a long hall lined with many old artifacts and pieces of furniture. Because of the size and the way the house was laid out, it reminded her more of an old, luxurious hotel she had stayed in with her parents on a trip over the summer holiday in France, than it did a house. It certainly did not feel warm and cozy like the house where she grew up.

Perhaps that was why Draco was so cold.

“Hermione Granger is to stay here,” Lugknut said, opening a door and inviting her in. He set her things down on a chair, snapped his fingers a few times to light the candles in the room, and turned to leave quickly. She watched as the door shut and Viktor disappeared to somewhere else in the house… probably to a more stately room, nearer the groom and his parents. After all, the Malfoys would most likely want to keep her as far away from them as they could. Hermione let out a long sigh and turned to look around the room.

She had to concede that it really was not too shabby, but it was hard in her present surroundings at Malfoy Manor, to think anything was shabby. She was sure even in the oldest, most musty-smelling room, there was a level of beauty and charm. There always seemed to be in huge, old estates like this any way.

The room was decorated in neutral tones and clean; the bathroom to the left of the room was small, but elegant, and connected another room. Hopefully Viktor would not be on the other side of this second door. It was just a tad too close for comfort, even if she knew appropriate wards and alarms to put on her own door should he try to sneak in during the night.

She laughed at herself. Why was she so worried about him anyway? She had no romantic feelings for him. He was only a friend. She had told him that. But then again, Viktor was not necessarily delicate in the way he handled things. He was rough and took what he wanted in any manner it called for. She had seen his rage at certain times, and it worried her greatly to see that immense power building in his too-bulky form. What would he do if she denied him?

Quickly fixing her luggage, she began the difficult task of deciding what she would wear for the night. By the time she was done with that, she felt hopelessly Muggle. Not that she was ashamed that it was so simple to tell, but she had hoped for a more magical appearance this weekend, in an effort to blend in. It was a vain effort, though. Lucius had probably warned all who were to attend she would be here.

A few waves of her wand later, and the loose cotton summer dress had been transfigured into a sexier, formfitting one of emerald green. For a moment, she thought it funny she chose such a color in this house, but decided against changing it. It might behoove of her before this weekend was finished to conform.

She though to throw on her robes, just in case, but scrunched her nose at it. Damn it, she was going to show her Gryffindor courage if it was the last thing she did. Any looks the Malfoys gave her would only be because they disliked her to begin with, and Viktor would be appreciative of the way she looked. At least he better, because she was not just doing this for her health… even though she had to admit that feeling like a woman, a sexy one at that, did have it’s psychological benefits. And really, when would she ever get to do this at Hogwarts where she was to project the image of a serious professor?

She fought with her hair for a bit before using magic to tie it back from her face. Sometimes she wondered why she did not just shave it all off. It would certainly make a statement.

Hermione laughed at herself, quickly finishing her primping with a bit of makeup. Deciding not to wait for her accompaniment, she headed out of her room and in the direction of the large grand staircase. It would not hurt to do a little exploring, though she would be polite and leave the closed doors closed. Her idea to explore was dashed, though, when she stepped down off the bottom step and looked up in the direction of voices, in time to see Draco rounding the corner with Pansy on his arm.

“Well, well, well,” said Draco, his characteristic sneer plastered on his face. “I didn’t expect you to show up, Granger. I thought you would chicken out.”

“I see you haven’t changed at all, Draco,” Hermione said, making note of the blonde’s expensive robes, and Pansy’s dress. Hermione did not feel so out of place now in her dress as Pansy wore something of a similar design. The wizarding community was making a large effort now after the fall of Voldemort to infuse more Muggle culture into everything. The Ministry wanted more cooperation, and not so much division, in hopes that another Voldemort, preaching the virtues of purebloodedness, would not be born of this current generation. However, it was still pretty easy to tell makers of clothes apart, and Pansy’s was made by someone magical.

“You didn’t tell me she was coming, Draco,” Pansy said.

Draco looked at his fiancé, “We were only informed a few days ago. Viktor brought her.”

Pansy sneered to match Draco’s.

Hermione sighed, “Please, both of you, let’s not tarnish this occasion with our old feuds.”

They seemed to consider this for a moment, but did not reply. So what if she was asking for a truce? She was the better man for it.

“Anyway,” she said after some silence. “Congratulations, both of you.”

Both Pansy and Draco looked at each other, smiled and turned back to her. Maybe they were in love. “Ah! Severus, there you are!”

Hermione turned to find him walking down the stairs, blowing by her without notice to greet Draco with a friendly hug. He kissed the backs of Pansy’s fingers, acting the perfect gentleman. She had never seen Snape act like this before with another human. For that matter, with another animal of any species. But she had always known he was close with the Malfoys.

For a moment, Hermione was jealous. Very jealous, as a matter of fact, but she did not know why. It was Snape, after all. He had just begun to see her as a colleague, why should she expect him to have the same familiarity with her as he did with Draco, his godson, and Pansy his former Slytherin student.

But when he was finished with Pansy, he did realize there was someone else in the room, and turned to her. “I didn’t think you were invited, Professor Granger.”

Hermione smiled demurely, “Viktor invited me.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding his head, his eyes not leaving hers.

When his obsidian eyes did leave hers, however, they did not turn to something or someone else. Instead, they made a rather lengthy perusal of her body, starting first at her neck, then dropping to her bust, and further down yet. It made her a tad uncomfortable, and she fidgeted to switch her weight to her other foot. Whether it was from lack of knowledge with women or from being out of practice, it was quite obvious he was enjoying studying her. Being who he was—the master of illusiveness—she had thought that if he had ever looked at her in this way, it would have been done without her knowledge. Apparently not.

This was wrong on so many levels. Why was he looking at her like this anyway?

He is a man, Hermione. It’s what men do.

But this was cold, immovable, vindictive Professor Snape who loathed her above any other thing in the world… well, except James Potter, his friends, and his son. Yet he was looking at her with that appreciative, male twinkle in his dark eyes.

She had to be imagining it. She just had to!

Luckily, her attention was diverted from the burning gaze when Viktor came down with Lucius and Narcissa.