The Silver Envelope

The Malfoy Name

Hermione's hands shook a bit as she took a sip of the elf-made wine from her goblet.
She'd spent the last hour swinging wildly between deciding to square her shoulders and just go, or to wimp out and order takeaway at home.
The decision had been made for her when she had received a note from Mrs. Weasley offering her an invitation to join them, out of what was obviously pity. The missive had promised that she would keep Ron on his best behavior, because no one should be alone on Christmas. It took rather a lot of restraint to keep the anger out of her tone when she'd responded that she'd have to decline, as she had made other plans for the day.
But even if she disregarded the insulting pity and the lonely silence of her flat, Hermione knew she wouldn't have come today if it hadn't been for a certain, clawing, desperate feeling in her chest.
She wanted to see him again. Wanted to hear what he had to say about their kiss. A want that was so strong, it compelled her to show up and break the vow she had once made to never return to this horrible place.
She still had nightmares about Malfoy Manor occasionally. Bellatrix's crazed eyes and bared teeth were ingrained in her memory, as were the screams and the pain. Her horrific memories, and those of likely many, many more people, were embedded in every piece of marble and crystal of this old mansion, indelible and enduring.
And Draco had grown up here. It explained so much
She had read his invitation so many times, had memorized his nervous words, then seen beyond them.
He missed her, she was sure of it. Needed her, perhaps. If she had to go home to this place for the holidays, she would have wanted a friend to come too.
So here she was, in the huge (and nearly empty) dining room of Malfoy Manor, eating roast duck and potatoes with people who had once looked down at her as if she were lower than a smudge on their shoes, now their honored guest.
Draco looked... well, awful. Though his eyes shone with devilish amusement when he looked at her, he seemed wan and colorless, though perhaps that was the light of the strange, greenish candles that lit their home. But the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble on his jaw, his tense posture-those were unmistakable. More than once, she felt a strong urge to cross to the other side of the table and take him in a tight hug and demand he tell her what was wrong.
Funny, she thought. Only yesterday, she had been drowning in self-pity, stress, and hate mail. But the moment she saw Draco, all she could think about was whether or not he was alright.
"So, Miss Granger," Mrs. Malfoy said, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. Embarrassedly, she looked away from Draco, realizing she had been staring at him. "Are you managing alright? After that dreadful article in the Prophet?"
Hermione bit her lip, considering how to respond.
"Things have been a bit.. difficult." An understatement. "But I'm sure it will blow over soon enough."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow.
"I admit I was surprised to see a very familiar necklace in that photo of the two of you," she insinuated with a note of derision.
Draco spoke then, which was good, considering that Hermione hadn't the faintest idea how to respond to her.
"I chose well," he said daringly. "It looked stunning on her."
Hermione blushed, her stomach flipping strangely. She felt agog at his words. Complimenting her loudly in front of her friends was one thing, but defending her to his mother in private was completely different. Narcissa seemed to calculate her next words very carefully.
"I was only surprised, that's all," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "It did look lovely, I agree."
Satisfied, Draco returned to his food as his mother went on.
"The accusations of an affair were unfortunate, but perhaps once they die down, the whole situation could prove to be to your mutual advantage," she said.
Hermione blinked, understanding the subtext after a glance at Draco, who had stilled and was staring at his mother with daggers in his eyes. They had discussed this before. Hermione chewed a bite of food slowly before responding, carefully considering her response.
"I'm not sure I take your meaning, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said cautiously. "While I can see that my public association with Draco may improve his reputation as a former Death Eater, I don't see how it will help me in return."
Her directness had struck home. Draco's eyes went wide, while Narcissa's narrowed.
"Are you accusing my son of soiling your reputation?" she asked dangerously.
"Of course not. Johanna's article is entirely to blame for that," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"But even if she hadn't printed those lies, I doubt my being seen with Draco would have much benefit for me
Draco's eyes were flitting back and forth between Hermione and his mother, watching them both closely. Narcissa seemed to be reassessing Hermione, as if she had passed some sort of test.
Hermione took a satisfied bite of a roasted potato, knowing she had made a good point. Narcissa was clearly planning to use her to help her son's image, and Hermione wanted the woman to know she wasn't a pawn.
"Draco, darling," his mother said, turning to him with an abrupt change of tone. "Did you write to Barnabas Cuff about all this?"
"No, Cuff stepped down a while ago," Draco responded quickly. "It's Selevas Amagus now. I paid him a visit earlier this week."
"Selevas?" Narcissa said with surprise. "Did you ask after his wife?"
Draco nodded curtly. "You should expect an invitation to visit her soon.
"Good," Narcissa said with a small smile. "And Selevas?"
"A full retraction will be printed this Sunday," Draco reported succinctly. "And Johanna has been
placed on leave.
Hermione's mouth fell open. Could that really be true? Why hadn't he said anything to her?
With a satisfied smile, Narcissa turned back to Hermione.
"As you can see, dear girl, the Malfoy name still holds weight in the wizarding community," she said, taking a bite of food and primly patting her mouth with her napkin. "Acquaintanceship with my son, whether public or not, comes with enormous privileges. You would do well to remember
Hermione had a sudden memory of her first day at Hogwarts, when she had watched as little. eleven-year-old Draco had haughtily offered his friendship to Harry. Suddenly, she wondered if she had miscalculated her decision to come here. Association with the Malfoy family would surely not come without strings. Was it worth the risk?
Narcissa changed the subject when pudding arrived, and Hermione was grateful for the reprieve.
She had much to think about.