Malfoy Manor Part Deux

Chapter 28- Malfoy Manor Part Deux

Two weeks passed quickly for the couple. No more stories had been published, and the letters had stopped coming. Everyone who had a care in the world about them had contacted them and either voiced their disapproval, their indifference or their approval of the relationship. Besides Ron, most of the Weasleys took it well. Tonks and Remus remained the two people who were the most approving of it. Minerva made sure to give them stern glares from across the room if they ever got too close, or appeared as though they were too friendly with each other. Viktor took his meals away from the Great Hall and invited his teammates back to the school for the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff game.

The students, after realizing no special treatment would be given to them from the Transfiguration or Potions professors, loosened up. There were still wary glances when she and Severus passed each other in the halls, as though they were waiting for Snape to throw her against a wall and have his way with her right there in front of everyone.

For the most part, at least she thought, their decorum in front of each other was just as it had been before. The only difference was that they spoke a little more openly and animatedly with each other. No one had a reason to take issue with them, even with their being in each other's chambers. As a matter of fact, during most evenings in a week, they did not spend any time together because of grading or hall patrol.

There was a tension there, with not everyone understanding or accepting the relationship, but it was lessening. What made Hermione the happiest, though, was that the article had not done as much damage as Skeeter had probably hoped. This was not to say that Hermione was giving up on trying to find a way to avenge the slander they had already suffered. But she was not in quite as great a hurry as before. Right now, she was more focused on her career and her growing relationship with Severus. And the intense work they did have to put into the relationship to keep it going.

Hermione had wondered briefly these last few weeks just what exactly she was doing with the man, who truly was unpleasant any way you put him. Whatever the attraction was, Hermione could not bring herself to not be with Severus. Even with all of his problems, all of his dark past, greasy hair, big nose and all other flaws... she loved him. She had not told him outright yet, but it was definitely there. It was a magic she had never experienced before...this undeniable magnetic pull to another that should have never happened in the first place.

However, with a rather peaceful two weeks behind her, the sudden realization that she would be made to parade around Malfoy Manor for an evening was causing a great deal of stress for the insufferable know-it-all. Severus had tried to calm her and tell her not to worry about the masquerade, saying that nothing was going to happen. But Severus was neither a very soothing person, nor was he able to hide the fact that more had passed between him and Lucius the morning after the original article was published.

When she had shown up at Draco's wedding on Viktor's arm, she knew that she was being tolerated at best. But a second appearance at the manor was asking a lot of a man who still had a vendetta against Muggles and Muggle-borns, and most particularly those who had stood by Harry's side in the numerous battles that made him look bad in his Lord's eyes; including his botched attempt to retrieve the Prophecy from the Department of Mysteries.

She certainly did not relish the fact that Narcissa had owled them the day before their departure, asking that they stay for the weekend. Besides that, Viktor was sure to be there. He had stood up for Draco, after all.

What could this weekend possibly have in store for her and Severus?

Hermione looked across the room at the stony-faced man, deep in concentration over the article in the Evening Prophet that he was reading. Ever since the episode with Skeeter's article, he had made it his duty to scour the pages of the paper to know what he would be facing before being called to Minerva's study to be scolded. His lank, dark hair fell over his eyes, and every time he blinked, his long eyelashes shifted the hair.

Apparently having gazed at him for too long, his eyes found hers, and his expression turned to one of annoyance, being interrupted from his reading. She sighed, "Sorry."

"Humph," he muttered, turning back to the paper.

"Lovely," she said and closed her book on her lap. "Don't you think we should be going? It's nearly six. Dinner is at eight."

He frowned deeply and looked up at her again. Folding the paper up, he placed it on the table beside him and nodded. "I suppose we should."

"You really don't want to go, do you?" Hermione asked.

Despite Severus' change in allegiance, he had never stopped being friends with Lucius. Their friendship had only become stronger when word reached Lucius that Severus was the one to make sure Draco's task was completed in a satisfactory manner, thereby lessening the wrath of Voldemort on his family. Even if their beliefs were different from the other, they were friends. And she had expected him to be a little more anxious to go.

"I hate these things," he admitted. "A weekend at the manor I'm fine with. But Lucius knows how I dislike social events."

Hermione chuckled quietly. "At least it gives you a chance to see me when I actually care about what I look like."

"You needn't worry, Hermione," he remarked, picking at an invisible something on his trousers. "You could be covered in mud, and I'd still find you irresistible."

"Thank you," she replied. The resulting blush from the unabashed praise was hot on her cheeks, and she glanced down at the ground. Hearing his compliments, even if they had nothing to do with academics, always made her feel especially amazing.

"Shall we?" he asked, coming to stand in front of her. "I believe we've prolonged this long enough."

Hermione nodded and took his hand to steady herself as she stood. She sighed. "I take it we're going by Floo? You wouldn't have told me to meet you here otherwise."

"Perhaps I just wanted to spend some time with you before we left." He raised a challenging brow.

"Are you feeling well?" she teased, lifting her hand to his cheek.

Severus snarled. "Of course I am, you dunderhead. I try to show some affection and you act like this!"

Hermione laughed it off and pushed up onto her toes, brushing her lips across his. "Let's go."

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Arriving at the manor, Hermione found it to be just as it had been the last time she had come. However, she found it a strange twist of fate that they would end up here, seeing as this was the exact place she had decided to delve deeper into the crustiness that was Severus Snape. Her room was considerably more opulent than it had been last month for Draco's wedding. But she imagined this was due to the fact that, by some coincidence, the Malfoys thought it prudent to plan upon them sharing the same room.

Hermione did not mind this much. It was something that they had been working up to, sharing a bed and other common facilities for an extended amount of time. But she worried more about Severus' comfort than her own.

He was very obviously not used to sharing living quarters with another person, much less a woman whom he cared for. Perhaps it was a little inconsiderate of her to begin the process of disrobing and walking over to her luggage, without realizing that the most they had ever seen of each other was her in a blouse and her knickers and him without the white dress shirt on. Though it was a testament to how comfortable she had become in his presence.

"Sorry," she said absently when she realized she was being watched very closely and looked up at him to meet his gaze. And what a lustful, questioning, yet utterly terrified gaze it was. Was it really a terrified gaze? Or was it more than that?

"Don't let me stop you," he replied quietly, his dark eyes scanning down her body.

It was such a thorough gaze that made her feel as though she really had nothing on. But then again, any gaze he afforded her, in malcontent or in lust, always made her feel like she was wearing nothing. At least she knew her bra and knickers were firmly in place. Or perhaps, that was what was enticing him so much, knowing that he was so very close to beholding it all, and yet unable to.

Hermione pulled the same green dress she wore the first evening with the Malfoys out of her suitcase and considered it for a moment. She smiled evilly. "Was this what made you think differently of me?"

It took him a long moment to draw his attention from her breasts back to her eyes and realize what she was asking. He replied in his most schooled, bored tone. "A man would have to be dead not to have noticed you in that."

"That's what I thought," she teased, taking her wand and changing a few things about the dress. "Why do they have these formal dinners all the time? I understand the occasional party, but doesn't it get a little overdone to do this pomp and circumstance every evening?"

"There's something to be said, Miss Granger, for tradition," he replied. "Perhaps an old Victorian tradition, but it's a tradition that pureblood families cling to."

Hermione frowned. "But it's so cold. There's no room for fun in the festivities."

"Look at whom you are referencing, dearest," he pointed out quietly, turning away from her and rifling through his things.

Taking this to mean that that discussion was done, Hermione turned back to her dress, considering it for a moment longer. Tapping the fabric with her wand, a charm to turn the fabric black began at the tip of the vinewood and extended throughout the rest of the dress. "You know, pretty soon this dress will be so over-transfigured and over-charmed that it will just fall apart around me."

He let out a low chuckle. "Won't that be an interesting development when it happens?"

"For you, at least," she acknowledged, smoothing the fabric into place over her abdomen.

"Oh, I am certain all the males present will find it quite interesting, married or not," he remarked, playing with one of the buttons on his frockcoat.

Hermione glanced back at him. "Must be nice not having to change into something."

"Hence the appeal, love," he admitted, taking three long strides to close the distance between them. Swooping down over her, like a giant bat, he brushed his lips across hers. And then was exiting the door into the hallways, before she could even comprehend what had happened. Hermione followed quickly behind him, as she usually had to take two steps to match his one. But she found that, pleasantly enough, he had slowed down to her pace and offered his arm to her in a most gallant action.

Their trip down the hall and the large main staircase was a quick one. He guided them through the maze of hallways and corridors, obviously having spent much time here, and learned the labyrinth well enough that he could maneuver through it with his eyes closed.

They ended up in the grand dining room of the manor and found themselves facing a group of people already being seated and seen to by eager house-elves. Lucius poked an elf with his cane, moving it along to the decanter of deep red wine on the sideboard much more quickly than it had been going.

She had not noticed the fact that she had taken a defensive step forward and was grabbing for her wand in the robe she was not wearing, until Severus' long fingers curled around her wrist in a tight grip to keep her in place. Hermione glanced up at him, feeling quite sheepish and let out a short, disgruntled sigh.

"Ah, there you two are," Lucius announced to the room. "Please sit."

There were two seats open, and both were not beside each other. Lucius sat at one end of the long mahogany table, Narcissa to his left. At the opposite end of the table sat Draco with Pansy to his left and a very angry looking, thick-browed Bulgarian frowning to his right. Next to Pansy sat the blonde-haired witch who had stood up for her, but one that Hermione had not cared to remember the name of.

Hermione had expected as much, unsurprised at not being sat beside each other, but she had completely forgotten that Viktor would most likely be at the manor this weekend. Though Lucius' purpose was still unclear to her, she did have a sneaking suspicion that his trip to Hogwarts to invite them to this weekend soiree had to do with the Bulgarian Seeker. What were they planning anyway?

The biggest question at the moment was whom she would rather sit next to: Lucius or Viktor.

Deciding that Severus sitting nearest Viktor would be a very bad idea indeed, she quickly moved toward that side of the table to sit. Severus had made to follow her and help her into the seat. But Viktor was just as quick and had grabbed the chair at the same time. Sensing the looks of complete hatred each of the men were sending each other from behind her, she turned to look at them. Hermione grabbed one of Viktor's hands and one of Severus', pulling their death grips away from the wooden back.

"Thank you very much, gentlemen, but I believe I can sit on my own," she said, slipping into her seat and sliding the chair forward.

The tension in the room did not lessen though, even as Severus continued around to the seat beside Lucius. The daggers Severus was sending toward Viktor with his glaring, obsidian eyes were enough to worry her about what might happen between the two wizards... one of whom apparently still incorrectly thought he had chance with her.

"Now that that is taken care of..." Lucius drawled, his fluid voice bringing the room back into the present.