Chapter 17
April 12, 2019
For someone who’d been self-sufficient since middle school, Hermione was a bit embarrassed to find herself yearning for Draco’s presence as she sat in a room with both of her bosses. How had she gone from working with realtors to sell her childhood home to feeling anxious over having a conversation with her bosses without her boyfriend by her side? Then again, her boyfriend was the primary cause of her anxiety...having Draco by her side as they told James and Remus had been such a comfort, and she would have appreciated his calming presence now.
Her relationship with James and Remus had taken a toll in the months after she disclosed her relationship with Draco, something that the blond insisted was only in her mind. Draco’s insistence was not strong enough to stand up to the crippling anxiety and paranoia that now colored every interaction Hermione had with her colleagues. It was impossible not to overthink every conversation they had and constantly rework everything she wrote, including the most basic emails.
And now, it was only set to get worse.
“All good, Hermione?” James asked as he looked up from the email he was sending.
“Yessir,” she nodded, smiling weakly.
“I’m glad to hear that,” James replied, squinting a bit behind his glasses.
She desperately wished Draco was there to take over this conversation. Her boyfriend had been frustrated that he wasn’t there, but both Abraxas and Lucius had insisted this was something Hermione needed to do without Draco’s presence.
“You can’t fight all of her battles for her, no matter how much you want to,” Abraxas’s southern drawl sounded amused as Hermione listened to him on speaker as Draco paced in his living room. His grandfather had called from somewhere in western North Carolina, taking on some in-district responsibilities for his son as Lucius devoted most of his spare time to his burgeoning campaign.
“I’m not fighting her battles. We should have a united front.”
Hermione sighed and leaned back into the sofa cushions. They’d been having the same circular discussion for a week now. She understood and adored Draco’s instinctive desire to want to protect her and care for her, but really, she didn’t need his help to give her boss a head’s up about going public. They were already past the hard part with James and Remus, which was telling them they were together.
“Son,” Abraxas’s voice was gentler this time, “I know it’s a bit different for you because your father and I both married before being elected to national office, and we didn’t have to start out with all this social media hullabaloo and what have you, but if you genuinely didn’t believe she could handle this conversation with her boss, you wouldn’t be going public. And I know you’re worried about public reaction to her, but she can do this. You’ll be by her side next week when it really matters.”
Draco seemed to deflate a bit at being called out by his grandfather, and Hermione was thankful that she’d suggested they call him to ask for his advice.
“It takes a strong woman to be with a Malfoy man, and I’ve got no doubt your girl can do this.”
“You’re right, grandfather. I’m… I’m just being cautious.”
“You’re being overprotective is what you’re being,” Hermione volunteered from her place on the sofa, smiling at Draco when he glanced over at her.
“Is that Hermione?” Abraxas cut in.
“Yes.”
“Honey, if you can handle Tom Riddle, you’ve got this in the bag. Now, go calm our boy down, and I’ll see you at Easter,” he said with a laugh before hanging up on his grandson.
There was a moment of awkward silence before Hermione realized she needed to start the conversation. She was the one who’d called the meeting, after all. Fleeting memories of Abraxas’s conversation rushed through her head, and she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. This was just another in a long line of hurdles they’d need to get across.
“I appreciate you both taking the time to speak,” she started, taking a sip from her reusable water bottle to try and quell her nerves. “I… wanted to make you aware that I’ll be in North Carolina over Easter. Draco and I will be out in public together, so… I just wanted you to be aware.”
Well… that was not what she’d prepared at all, but nerves had gotten the best of her. She pinched the skin of her upper thigh between two fingers, hoping that she wouldn’t cause a run in her tights. Focus. She needed to focus, and stop sounding so uptight.
Both men let out heavy breaths.
“I take it Lucius wants you in town for the annual church and chat?” James’ left eyebrow was raised far enough that it disappeared into his messy, dark hair. His tone couldn’t be interpreted as anything other than sarcastic.
Feeling like she was dealing with Harry instead of his father, she decided to treat him as such. This was a space she was comfortable in.
A breath, then a small nod. “I will be attending Easter service with the Malfoys, but I’ll also be spending the week in Charlotte.”
Why did she sound so damn formal?
“I’m glad you’re finally using your vacation days,” Remus said slowly, like he was really weighing his words. “But… I know I speak for James and myself when I implore you to truly think through this one more time. There is no going back once you’re public.”
James nodded emphatically before frowning. “Rem is right, Hermione. This is… forever. You’re so young. After you break up, your name will be forever remembered as the girl who dated Draco Malfoy.”
Remus chastised James immediately, “James, that’s not appropriate. We aren’t here to tell you that your relationship won’t last, that isn’t our job. But our duty as two old men who care about you is to let you know that your life will change after this if you want to stay in Washington.”
“The Malfoys are everything I hate about politics,” James shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his plush office chair. “Their name endures and no scandals can tarnish them. If something happens… it’s on you, dear. It’s not on Draco or his father. It’s on you. It may be a bit before your time, but all of us old folks saw what happened to Monica Lewinsky. The President moved on, but what happened will follow her forever.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” she nodded, desperately trying to maintain professionality. “I understand how difficult this is to accept, I do. Which is why I want to tell you again… I understand if you would like me to resign.”
Please don’t fire me, she thought.
“No!” James replied immediately. “That’s not what we’re trying to do, Hermione. Are we going to have a shit show on our hands soon? Probably. But we can deal with that when it comes. If it comes… because you still have a chance to get out.”
“I’m not being held hostage,” Hermione said sharply, trying to focus on remaining tactful instead of angry. “I can’t see all that lies ahead in my life, but I know that this is the path I want to take. And felt it necessary to tell you and Remus.”
She left ‘I didn’t come here to be yelled at’ out, but felt it was clear in her last sentence.
“Well, we’ve tossed aside all semblance of propriety, haven’t we?” Remus chuckled. “So… James, get what you want out now.”
“Thank you!” the Congressman said emphatically. “Just think twice Hermione… I’m not your dad, but you’ve been good friends with my son for so long I feel like I could be sometimes. And like any good dad, I’m going to ask you to think twice about what you’re doing. You’ve met Lucius, you know what he’s like. And as someone who has a surly father-in-law, I even thought twice about my Lily before getting married. Draco loves his dad, and that man isn’t going away.”
“James…” Remus warned.
“I’m not telling any lies here! Lucius Malfoy is a complete dick, and that’s not going to change! Being in a relationship with Draco will alienate you from others and drive you closer to the Malfoys, that’s a fact. And that’s without even getting into the presidential campaign! The Malfoys all look and act like something out of Stepford already, and it’s going to be even worse with him running for the White House! Just know down the pipe, my girl. You need to be prepared to lose friendships and have people question your loyalty.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” Hermione replied, trying to stay calm. “And what of my position here?”
James’ shrug was telling and anything but comforting. “Depends on how much interest there is in your relationship. As long as it remains ethical, which it is at this point, all that matters to me is that you can continue to do your work without any distractions. If Lucius wants you to leave work to stump in New Hampshire or Iowa, then we’ll have some problems.”
Hermione let out an embarrassing snort at that. “I can promise you that will never happen.”
The man wasn’t off when he shared his disdain for Lucius; it had crossed Hermione’s mind as well. Lucius was always going to be part of Draco’s life, even more than the average adult father and son because of their political careers… and she knew he would always hold a bit of snobbish judgment towards her. It was a conversation she needed to have head-on with Draco, but one that felt impossible to start. How do you tell your 40-year-old boyfriend that his dad - who might be the next President of the United States - is a bit of a dick and is the only reason you worry about spending your life with him? Or… at least the most pressing one.
James let out a laugh of his own. “I’ll hold you to that. Just… think about it. Promise?”
“Promise,” she agreed, though she knew there would be no dramatic breakup with Draco. Not over this conversation, at least.
“Now, I’ll talk to Tonks and reiterate our office’s policy on inquiries about staff members’ private lives to make sure she’s prepared for any calls that come her way,” Remus said.
“I appreciate it,” Hermione replied gratefully. She really did; having Tonks caught off guard would serve no one well.
“Anything else we can do for you, Hermione?” Remus asked with a small smile.
She thought for a second before shaking her head.
“No, I appreciate you both staying late to speak to me.”
“Where were we gonna go?” James asked. “Woes of working on the east coast means suffering through west coast scheduling, even on a Friday. Be well, dear. Think through what you’re doing. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Let me know if you need anything,” Remus replied with a tired glance towards James, and Hermione hid her smile.
“Will do, thank you both. Have a good weekend!”
She took a deep breath as she shut the door behind them, knowing that whatever discussion they were about to have was one she didn’t want to hear. Some things were better left unknown.
No one was left in the office, which made sense since it was past six on a Friday, but she knew Draco was waiting for her upstairs. He’d had a tough conversation of his own planned for this evening, and she was anxious to hear how it went.
The hallways were empty outside of a few roaming police officers and maintenance workers, and she walked right into Draco’s front office confidently.
Her stomach sank a bit at the sound of a few voices. Who was still there?
Once she walked into Draco’s office, it was clear. His conversation with his team wasn’t over yet. Weren’t they supposed to meet at 5? Did it really last over an hour?
Pansy was trying to hide a smirk and Blaise looked expressionless, but the wide eyes of the rest of his staff were on her.
With a tight grin, Hermione walked into the office. It was time to face the music.
“Hermione, please come in,” Draco smiled, though it wasn’t a smile like one he’d give her in private. The expression was closed-off, far more distant than any way he’d ever looked at her. This was Congressman Malfoy, not her Draco. “We’re just finishing up our conversation.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” she replied, feeling a bit awkward as she stood in the doorway with her huge bag slung over her shoulder. Everyone that worked for Draco was affluent, and they almost certainly knew now that he bought her the bag. She felt the eyes on her, trying to casually check her out as though they could tell why their boss was willing to throw away his career, and theirs, for someone who looked the way she did.
“Sit down,” he said, standing up and gesturing to his chair. Thankfully, he wasn’t sitting at his large chair behind his desk, but instead was seated in front of it in a leather armchair next to Blaise.
Knowing this wasn’t the time to argue, she moved to sit down and put her Goyard on the floor.
“Hi,” she greeted somewhat awkwardly, getting a snort from Pansy and polite waves from everyone else.
“Where were we?” Draco asked in the silence of the room. He looked far too handsome with sleeves rolled up on his forearms that were bulging as he leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. Hermione swallowed, not out of nervousness, but desire.
“Gemma had a question,” Pansy pointed out, looking very at ease in the midst of the discussion that clearly had everyone else reeling.
Gemma nodded and swallowed. “Yessir, I’m… wondering what you expect of us? You’ve explained well, sir, but we’re going to get a lot of questions from people we know.”
“I consider our team a family, and part of that means trusting you all to use discretion. In order to make that easier, I will give you all information on a need-to-know basis. Hermione still works down the hall… professionality is important for both of us. You’re not going to see anything untoward, and I hope that makes those conversations easier to have.”
The communications director’s eyes went huge, “I didn’t mean to insinuate you’d do anything inappropriate, Mr. M! I trust you… we all trust you.”
He gave a short nod towards her, smiling gently. “It didn't cross my mind, Gemma. Blaise and I hired all of you because we trust you. We wouldn’t have this conversation over a week before this becomes public if I didn’t have every confidence in you all.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gemma replied, relaxing in her chair.
Hermione wished to be anywhere but front and center in the room. Theo and Adrian looked the most shocked by the news. Thinking of everything she knew of both of their families, she knew that they’d have a lot of questions to answer. Their parents probably thought that their sons were safe in the proper hands of a Malfoy, only to now have their sons working for a member who’d likely be embroiled in a scandal.
“Anything else?” Draco asked, eyes searching the faces of his staffers.
“Since no one else is asking…” Theo started, a bit uncertainly, “What happens if it goes sour?”
“What does that even mean, Theodore?” Pansy snapped back, tone defensive.
He shrugged his broad shoulders, his tan skin turning a rosy pink. “I mean… What if you break up? Or people call for you to resign?”
“Then we move on!” Pansy threw her hands up. “This is a Member of Congress who’s in a consensual relationship. You think that others aren’t snorting coke and soliciting nude pictures from college girls? This is the least of ethical problems among Congressmembers.”
“Thank you, Pansy,” Blaise replied, looking as calm as ever despite Pansy’s wholly inappropriate outburst. “Expect a lot of calls and media requests coming in the first few weeks… and that goes for more than just Gemma. Your Linkedin profiles say that you work for Congressman Malfoy, so questions are bound to come your way.
“Remember that everything you say reflects on the people of our district and the Congressman. If you have concerns, please feel free to raise them with me, but we expect you to maintain the same level of respect and professionalism you have until this point. Understood?”
A chorus of yessirs echoed through the room, and Hermione was impressed by it, as well as by the non-answer Blaise had for Theo. She knew that Draco’s office ran differently than hers, but seeing it play out was interesting. Everything was far more formal and controlled here, and she could see how Draco’s long-standing desire for control manifested in the way he managed his team and the culture he created among his staff.
“Will you tell the district staff?” a mousy brunette named Flora, one of Draco’s legislative assistants, asked.
“Yes, we will. Blaise and I are sitting down with them next Thursday.”
A silence took over the room after that, and Hermione tried not to shift awkwardly in her seat.
“I’ve kept you all long enough… Have a good weekend and a blessed Easter. You know how to reach Blaise and me if you need to discuss further. I’m grateful to have you all on my team, and know that our mission will remain the same in the days ahead.”
Everyone but Blaise filed out quickly, and Pansy shut the door behind herself with a wink that was completely out of place at Hermione.
Blaise flicked a look towards Hermione quickly before speaking.
“Well?”
“It went as well as I thought it would. I’m sure you’ll get some questions and concerns, Blaise, but it’s to be expected.”
Draco unrolled his sleeves and buttoned them up, pulling on his suit jacket and moving behind his desk to pack his bag. Hermione felt relieved that he was ready to leave; it’d been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to curl up with him, a pizza, and a movie.
“I’ll let you know. I’m going to get out of here, but I’ll see you Sunday,” Blaise clapped Draco on the shoulder before shooting a pleasant grin her way. “Hermione, have a good weekend.”
“Thanks, Blaise. You too,” she replied, waving awkwardly as he left the room.
Draco pulled Hermione in for a hug immediately, and she felt a bit surprised to feel him sink into the embrace. Perhaps he was more nervous about telling his staff than she’d realized. He was always the strong one, and right now, she could be that for him if it’s what he needed.
“Let’s go home,” she said into his chest.
He let out a breath, running a large hand down her back.
“Home sounds perfect, sweetheart.”
xxx
April 21, 2019
Hermione had laughed hysterically when Pansy asked how she was feeling about Easter with the Malfoys, much to her posh friend’s concern. When she’d finally composed herself, she’d shared that if this was a normal relationship that her biggest worry would be judgement over her awful singing, but now, she was terrified that she’d be skewered by public opinion before she could even make a case for herself. She was smart, driven, and had pulled herself up by her own bootstraps in the way Republicans loved to preach about. If they gave her a chance… she was pretty certain people would see why Draco was risking it all for her. That was a mere fantasy, she knew. The court of public opinion had no time for pleading one’s case before a decision came down.
In that moment of panic, standing in a gorgeous church for a Southern Baptist Easter service that had been going on for at least two hours, a normal relationship sounded pretty damn nice.
Sitting in the church the Malfoy family had been going to since before Lucius was born, she was almost beside herself knowing that once they went up to take communion, they’d have to turn around to face the nosy churchgoers. That was nearly enough to make her keel over in anxiety.
Draco couldn’t even hold her hand either. The fact that a young woman was glued to his side for the first time in history at church was more than enough to have the whole of the congregation buzzing. Physical touch was a no-go right now.
After seeing the tortured expression on every teenager in the church’s face, Hermione was certain they were bored out of their minds finding more pleasure in discreetly tweeting and texting and snapchatting photos of the Malfoys than listening to a ridiculously long, dry service.
It wasn’t that the Malfoy-Black family was doing anything other than sitting quietly; it was more that kids were bored and the news of a woman sitting next to Draco was juicier than any canned old Easter sermon. As hard as pastors tried, there was literally no way to make Easter Sunday interesting or cutting-edge. Everything to say had already been said.
Unlike normal Sunday services, they were taking communion by pew, and since they were sitting in the very front, that meant they would walk up last. It also meant everyone would watch them walk up, waiting for her to turn back around so they could see who the newcomer with barely tamed curls was. The Malfoy-Black family never changed up their seating arrangement, so the presence of a young woman sitting right next to Draco instead of Livana Malfoy… That was cause for a stir.
When it was finally time for them to move up front, Hermione followed the tall blond out of the pew in order to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. Though she attended Capitol Hill Baptist, the Malfoy’s DC church, once, she’d never taken communion at a Southern Baptist church. Since she was baptized, the church allowed her to participate, but she felt nervous to take part in the sacrament in front of so many strangers. Every potential gaffe had her on edge, including spilling juice all over herself.
Even though she couldn’t see people, she felt the eyes on their brood. Lucius and Narcissa were as put-together as always, and Hermione would’ve done anything for a comforting pat on the back from Abraxas or a wink from Luna to just know everything was going to be okay, but they were too far away to provide her comfort. She was on her own.
The grey-haired pastor gave her a gentle smile as she took the small plastic cup of juice, and the sweet liquid went down Hermione’s throat easily. No spills, thank God. She made sure to give the man a small smile of her own before turning around and following Draco back to their pew.
A relieved noise went up from all of the young people in the crowd as the pastor announced there was one song left, followed by hushed chastisement from their parents. Hermione looked up at Draco as the music started to play, a bit surprised to see that he was already staring down at her. He patted her hand discreetly, and she felt silly for tearing up a bit as a song she’d sang during her short stint in kids choir began to play.
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is gone!
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living just because He lives!
Despite the words she was singing… fear was the primary emotion coursing through her as the crowd began to trickle out of the church.
She took a breath, allowing Draco to help her slide into her light spring jacket, smoothing down the dark green floral dress that had been approved by the fashion panel from hell the week before.
Narcissa, Livana, and Pansy had had an excellent time tearing Hermione’s entire wardrobe apart while enjoying mimosas. If this is what the rest of her life would look like… she didn’t want it. For a few very long hours, she’d thought that leaving Draco was a better option than suffering these judgmental women.
They’d eventually decided on a dark green and cream high-necked floral midi-dress that was everything she needed it to be. It wasn’t too expensive, but wasn’t cheap-looking. It wasn’t too skimpy, but it wasn’t too modest. It wasn’t too attention-grabbing, but also wasn’t too run-of-the-mill. There were a lot of hurdles that her clothes had to hop through for approval, if Narcissa was to be believed.
Livana had told her that the quicker she married Draco, the quicker she would be able to wear what she wanted without scrutiny. While the woman meant that as a comfort, it had only stressed Hermione out more.
Begrudgingly, though, she had admitted that it made sense when Narcissa had explained that the Twitter police and fashion outlets would immediately search out her clothes, and it wouldn’t do for someone of her financial status to be wearing a $200 dress.
All Hill staffers’ salaries were published online, and as soon as her name was inevitably made public, all it would take was ctrl + F on any financial statements for everyone and their mother to discover the pittance that was her income.
So Hermione felt good in her cream heels from TJ Maxx and a $60 floral dress that was not something she considered ‘inexpensive,’ regardless of what the Malfoys and Pansy might think.
“I love you,” Draco mouthed as she bent down to grab her purse, and he finally took her hand into his own as they followed the rest of his family out.
A cheery Columba moved right next to Hermione, something she was grateful for as she took part in an age-old Malfoy tradition.
A short message from the Malfoys on Easter Sunday had become what Draco called a ‘much-anticipated annual event’ starting back when Abraxas was serving in the House.
From what Hermione could tell, it was a glorified photo op. She’d only made one crack to Pansy about the irony of the devout Malfoys overshadowing Jesus on resurrection day before zipping her lips. Maybe, just maybe, she and Draco could joke about the audacity of the event one day. Many years down the line.
It was a beautiful, blessedly clear spring day, and the Malfoys were being watched by a crowd of lingering churchgoers as they made their way to where they’d hold their press event.
There were three large cameras stationed in a grassy area near the church but far enough away that the building would make a spectacular backdrop for photos and video, and even without Draco’s large hand on her lower back guiding her, the swath of 60 or so gathered reporters and bystanders would have had her walking in the right direction. She could see that a lot of people were dressed casually in jeans and jackets, a far cry from the outfits worn by churchgoers. Truly, she shouldn’t have been surprised to know that people staked out an event where all of the Malfoys were… but she was.
“He is risen!” Lucius greeted with a jovial smile, getting the standard chorus of ‘He is risen indeed!’ back from the crowd. Hermione smiled to herself as she watched a few older women shamelessly start snapping photos of the family.
So it begins, she thought.
“We appreciate you all taking time out of your holiday to join us,” Abraxas chimed in, voice carrying in a way he’d clearly perfected over the years. “We started this tradition some 40 years ago, and I’m grateful that it’s endured through children, elections, marriages, unpredictable weather, and… more elections.”
The crowd laughed at that, even though Hermione didn’t find it particularly funny. Looking up to see Narcissa letting out a soft chuckle of her own, Hermione followed suit. The last thing she needed was to look sullen and draw more attention to herself.
“This is a special year, as my son has just launched his run for president. As you all surely know, elections aren’t something we take lightly. God has blessed my beloved Livana and me with a beautiful family and the opportunity for three generations of Malfoys to serve the state we love. And we know that there’s no better day to reflect on our gratitude for all of you, our neighbors, and our anticipation for better days ahead than Easter. I humbly ask that you pray with us as Lucius undertakes this new challenge.”
She bowed her head as Abraxas led the group in prayer, feeling only slightly bad that she couldn’t fully get behind his asks for God to protect Lucius and continue to guide his service.
“We all know how much the media likes to make mountains out of molehills, and we pray that y’all will stand with us through whatever mud comes slinging our way in the days ahead. And I’ll get ahead of the inevitable story… this hair? It’s still real. Now I’ll hand it over to my boy.”
There were rumblings of laughter and amen as the Malfoy patriarch wrapped up his humble speech. It was clear, in a setting like this, just how much this community loved the Malfoys.
“Thank you, father,” Lucius smiled, stepping up and waving to the crowd that had only grown as people flocked out of the church and over to hear them speak. “It’s always a pleasure to be with y’all, especially on Easter Sunday. Holy Week, regardless of how many years pass, is one that has me reflecting on life… On sacrifice. On renewal… On hope. And on unconditional love.”
The crowd nodded, many older men and women patting their children or spouse on the back and sharing small smiles. Hermione wanted to pinch herself to make sure she hadn’t entered into a Hallmark movie, but kept her arms by her side.
“My family has made many sacrifices for my career in public service. My darling Narcissa is the glue of our family, and has stood by my side while I’ve spent weekends in Washington fighting to pass legislation to help North Carolinians, and raised our two incredible children. You all know Draco and Columba, who we couldn’t be more proud of.”
Draco and Columba waved as Lucius spoke about them, and Hermione heard the clicks of professional cameras as she smiled up at her boyfriend.
“The one thread that ties us together is our love for this community, and like my father said, there will be those who seek to drive us apart in the days ahead… To fill the papers with fake news just for another dollar. I regret having such a dark tone on this holy day, but I want to speak directly to you on what’s to come.
“My honesty will come as no surprise to most of you; I’ll always give it to you straight. That’s my promise as a Malfoy.. So before we get into the swing of the campaign, I want to take this time to give you my gratitude for your support, your hospitality, and your commitment to working for a better Charlotte, North Carolina, and country.
“I pray that you all have safe travels home, and that the abundant blessing of the Lord follows you wherever you go in the year ahead. We love you, Charlotte!”
The crowd burst into applause, and Hermione was pulled tightly to Draco’s side as the man waved to the crowd and reporters who were now snapping photos of the group.
She felt a bit sick, a bit like a prop too, but smiled nonetheless.
This is what you signed up for, the tough voice in her mind whispered.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Draco murmured above the din, and he pulled her away with Columba, Rolf, and Leo. The four older Malfoys stayed to field questions from the press, and Hermione was infinitely grateful to be getting away from the crowd. Lucius had fought to have Draco remain for the photo op as he had in years past, but Abraxas had chimed in and promised that no one would miss his presence. Lucius had relented after a tense back and forth, however begrudgingly.
“You good, honey?” Columba asked quietly, looking properly chipper.
For a woman who wasn’t regularly in the spotlight, Columba had her public persona down pat. It really shouldn’t have surprised Hermione to see the pretty blonde in action, knowing she had a lifetime of being a Malfoy under her belt, but it still did. She was realizing that she had a lot to learn when it came to looking at ease in the public eye.
“I’m good,” she confirmed, wishing she could just nestle into Draco’s side without sending both of them falling down the slight grassy hill they were climbing back up.
“I’m so excited to eat!” Leo exclaimed, running ahead of the quartet and flapping his arms like he was a bird and not a sweet little boy. He’d been remarkably composed and quiet during church and was apparently ready to make up for it now.
“Oh?” Hermione asked with a smile. “What are we going to eat?”
“Lamb! Rolls! Eggs! Grits! Shrimps! So many shrimps…” the boy’s voice got more animated as he went down the list. “And pie! Lots and lots of pie!”
Everyone laughed at that, the mood effectively lightened.
“Some food sounds good,” Hermione agreed. It had to be past 1pm at that point, and she wished she would’ve taken Draco seriously when he mentioned eating something substantial. How was she to know their church service would last over two hours? Weren’t Easter services supposed to be short?
“My son forgot to mention the mimosas. A lot of mimosas,” Columba winked.
“I can’t tell you how good that sounds right now.”
By the kiss Draco pressed to her cheek, she could tell he agreed.
xx
Hermione was extremely grateful to discover that Draco wasn’t lying when he said that the Malfoy-Black Easter brunch would be lightyears more comfortable than Christmas. Draco had warned her that Walburga would be at every family occasion; there was no way to get out of inviting a close relative who lived down the street, and that was something Hermione would have to get used to.
The brunch was being held at Narcissa’s parents’ farmhouse, and Hermione was in heaven. Draco hadn’t been kidding when he said they owned a ridiculous number of dogs, but he had neglected to mention the horses, cats, pigs, sheep and cows that resided on their land. He had said it was a farm, but what rich old couple had an actual working farm? Druella and Cygnus Black, apparently.
“You into animals, girlie?” Draco’s maternal grandfather asked, moving to sit down on the floor right next to Hermione, suit be damned.
“Grandfather,” she smiled, receiving an approving wink from the man. Draco Facetimed with his grandparents often, and the man had chastised her with wagging finger about using ‘sir’ often enough that she just gave in and called him what he wanted.
“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart. No need to be shy in this family.”
Hermione laughed, looking back down to pet the two dogs that were resting on her legs. After being shooed out of the kitchen by Druella, Livana, Columba and Narcissa, the other family members had migrated over to a spacious sitting room.
She tried not to feel like she was being left out of their circle and distracted herself with the company of some of the many dogs skittering around the home. By the look on Lucius’ face, Hermione could tell exactly what he thought of dogs, which… made her only want to get on the plush carpet and play with them more. So she fixed her dress over her legs and plopped down on the ground.
“I’m learning that. I do love animals, though. Especially dogs… I always wanted to have them.”
“That’s why Dru and I have so many,” Cygnus smiled. “Our parents were stuffier than new teddy bears, and after we learned how many dogs were locked up in rescues waiting for homes… We got one which turned into two.”
“Which turned into…”
“Thirteen,” he laughed, running a hand through his short hair. The carefree expression made him look like Sirius; all of the Black men, barring Draco, looked almost the same. Attractive and just as fine, if a bit greyer and more wrinkled, with age.
“That’s amazing,” she sighed. “I hope Draco wants to have a few.”
She let out an undignified noise as she realized what’d come out of her mouth, and the man’s smile only grew.
“Secret’s safe with me, dear, though it’s not much of one in these circles. For Draco to introduce you into this three-ring circus… you’re not goin’ anywhere. Not unless you want to go.”
“Today has made that pretty clear,” Hermione agreed.
“The vultures start coming out of the woodwork yet?”
“I haven’t checked my phone… Columba told me to leave it in my coat pocket, so I’m going to enjoy the day while I can.”
“Smart girl! These guys will make it worth your while.”
She looked down at the two black and white dogs curled up against her, falling asleep contentedly like they’d known her their entire lives.
“What are their names?”
“Oh, these two are Gryff and Puff, they were rescued from a hoarding situation at a farm a few hours away. Tight as brothers, the rescue said they couldn’t be separated and who were we to make their lives harder?”
The dogs were both black and white, but Gryff’s looked more like a standard black lab while Puff’s pitbull heritage was clear with his big block-shaped head. They were both sweet as could be, and she understood why the Blacks couldn’t help but adopt the pair.
“I see where Narcissa gets her kindness from.”
The man’s expression visibly brightened. “At least two of my girls got it, hm?”
Hermione tried and failed to hide her laugh at that, and the knowing glint in Cygnus’ eyes showed her there was no harm done.
“What’s so funny?” Regulus asked, moving to help his very pregnant wife sit down on the dark brown leather couch Hermione was leaning against.
“Just talking about how hungry we are,” Cygnus replied, winking at Hermione.
Why wasn’t Lucius as keen on her as the other Malfoy-Black men seemed to be?
“Tell me about it,” Maryam groaned, rubbing a hand on her swollen stomach.
“You look beautiful,” Hermione offered, hoping it was the right thing to say to a very pregnant woman. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m as well as one can be while growing two humans.”
“She’s a champ,” Regulus chimed in, smiling reverently at the pretty woman. “Truly… She has dealt with my mom’s tips and tricks without complaining.”
“Do I even want to know?” Hermione asked.
“You don’t,” Cygnus replied gravely.
“I got a haircut last month, and apparently cutting my hair means I’ll give birth early.”
Well… Walburga’s craziness seemed to extend to even her beliefs about childbirth.
Hermione looked down to pet the two dogs on her lap, certain that a few people were cringing over all of the fur she was likely getting all over her.
“Oh, and I can’t take baths because the babies will drown. And when I shower, I need to use cold water or the babies will cook in my stomach.”
“I shut it down,” Regulus promised.
Maryam glared at him, “You did, but not until after I was asked what temperature we keep the house at.”
“I shut it down,” he repeated, pressing a kiss on the woman’s hair.
“Don’t you worry - my Cissa won’t be like that,” Cygnus promised, patting Hermione on the arm.
Hermione looked like a deer in headlights, flushing faintly; how was she supposed to reply to that?
“How have you been, Hermione?” Regulus asked, saving the day.
“I’m well, it’s been a long few weeks. I am hungry, though.”
“Same girl,” Maryam replied. “You’d think they’d have grazing trays after a ridiculous church service.”
“My wife is the most perfect woman I’ve ever met, but… I agree. Grave oversight to leave us foodless for this long, the masses are starving. Let me see what I can do to get this train moving,” Cygnus said, smiling before hefting himself up off the ground far more spritely than a man in his late-70s should be.
“Pregnancy has its perks,” Maryam smiled primly. “Let me know if you want someone who’s not Draco to check your phone with later… I’m sure it won’t be pretty, and if he’s anything like Reg, he won’t handle it well.”
“I just… keep thinking that there’s no way I’m IDed today.”
“You’ll unfortunately be shocked by how many people you know are willing to give you up for a moment of Twitter fame. One of my dad’s employees is the one who sent out the photo of me pregnant and sweating on a walk last month that made it into the papers,” she frowned.
“They were fired as soon as we found out, but that doesn’t change the fact that people are willing to sell you out on the most obscure things,” Regulus replied.
“Including sending photos of me looking huge and sweaty.”
“You’re beautiful,” Regulus smiled. “You’ll be fine, Hermione, but really…”
The man was interrupted by Livana. “Please head to the dining room!”
Hermione felt bad at jostling the two sleeping dogs off her lap, but was buoyed by their kisses to her face once they were more alert.
“You tryin’ to give my father a heart attack?” Draco asked as he walked over to Hermione, a smirk on his lips.
“I love dogs,” Hermione pouted, accepting his hand up off the ground.
“Me too,” he smiled.
“Grandfather said we can take one home for the week if we want,” she replied, hoping Draco would take the bait.
“Oh?” he asked, wrapping a big hand around her hip and pulling her close.
“He did. Can we? Please?”
“How could I say no to you when you beg so prettily, sweetheart?”
Hermione blushed at that, eyes darting around to make sure no one was listening to him. They were alone in the warm, well-lit hallway. The Black’s sprawling estate was what Hermione would call an ‘opulent farmhouse’ with high-ceilings, exposed beams, and modern, well-loved furniture.
“No one’s listening,” he replied, tapping her hip.
“Someone’s always listening,” Hermione replied ominously. She was right, too; Draco’s family was unbearably nosy, and she didn’t trust that someone wasn’t lurking around every corner. Especially Walburga… where was she, anyways?
“You’re not wrong, baby.”
“Lucky me, I got both my gals near me,” Abraxas drawled as they walked into the Black’s large, airy dining room. The farmhouse dining room was far prettier than Walburga’s home, fixed with spring green and dark wood instead of looking like a medieval torture chamber.
“Forget me so soon, papa?” Columba asked with a small smile, carrying a large serving dish into the room.
“You flew the nest, my dove,” he sighed. “And anyways, you’ll need to be near that daddy of yours and keep him calm. He’s on edge, and I think it’ll be a two woman job to keep him from blowin’ into pieces.”
“It always is on days like these,” she agreed before slipping back into the kitchen.
Hermione could figure out what they meant when she saw Lucius seating himself stiffly, scrolling on his phone in a way that looked far too pedestrian. She could only imagine what he was looking at, and was again grateful to have hid her phone away for a little while.
“Welcome back, Miss Granger,” a shrill voice greeted, and Hermione turned to see Walburga in a frilly mauve dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place as a 1700s burial gown. “I’m so surprised to see you here.
“Mother,” Regulus warned as he helped Maryam into her seat.
“What?” his mother asked with the innocence of a blood-covered woman holding a smoking gun. “It’s not like our Draco to bring a woman back twice.”
“Thank you, Walburga,” Hermione replied somewhat icily, taking great care to use the woman’s first name. “I’m glad to be here to celebrate another holiday with you all.”
Draco pressed a kiss to her hair at that, and Hermione felt fuzzy inside at the look she knew he was giving his great aunt.
“And we’re pleased to have you, gal,” Orion, the woman’s husband chimed in. “Don’t mind my wife, we’re all just a bit shocked that Draco hasn’t followed down the same path of destruction as our son.”
“He’s not my son,” Walburga shook her head. “A depraved, druggie sex demon is no child of mine!”
“But he is,” Cygnus replied solemnly, carrying in a tray laden with a rack of lamb and placing it down. “Sirius is all you, Wally.”
Hermione had to hide a smile at that, and she saw that Regulus and Maryam were doing the same.
“It’s time to eat!” Druella called after a moment as she, Narcissa, Columba and Livana carried platters into the room and placed them onto the table delicately.
Draco moved to push Hermione’s chair in while the men around the room did the same with their wives.
“Shall we pray?” Cygnus asked, and Hermione’s insides warmed at the way Draco clearly followed the habit of the couples around the room and took her hands into his own. She leaned into his side, content to pretend that things were normal for a moment more.
Draco loaded her plate up with food before she could ask, and instead of being annoyed, Hermione was pleased to realize he got everything she liked in perfect proportions.
“Good?” he asked, eyes searching her face.
“Perfect,” she replied with a small smile. “I’m impressed.”
Draco’s expression turned into the smug one that reminded her of Lucius, but she’d allow him to have that moment of pride.
“How are you feeling, Maryam?” Druella asked as she sliced up her lamb in a dainty way that had Hermione feeling like a heathen.
“I’m well, but wondering how much bigger these two are going to grow in the next two months.”
The older women around the table laughed, and it was a joke circle Hermione knew she was left out of.
“I felt like a monster with just Leo, but you look radiant,” Columba assured her.
“I’ve told you before, but I’m surprised to see you so… active. When I was with child, I didn’t leave the house,” Walburga pursed her lips.
“Oh, Walburga, it’s not the 80s anymore. No one stays home when they’re pregnant,” Narcissa replied with a withering glare.
“Yet another scourge of new age society,” the woman scowled.
Everyone rolled their eyes at that.
“How’s it looking on the world wide web, Lucius?” Orion asked casually like he thought his question wasn’t completely outdated.
The blond man’s eyes slowly dragged up from where he was still tapping away on his phone.
“As is to be expected.”
“Which is?” Orion asked impatiently, a deviled egg held between his thumb and index finger right outside of his mouth.
“Rampant with speculation and conversation over everything but my speech,” his voice was thick with suppressed anger that Hermione only recognized because of his resemblance to Draco in the moment.
Narcissa squeezed his hand in her own at that, a sympathetic look on her face.
“We knew this would happen, Luc… That’s why you chose Easter, right? There will be more substantive speeches. Best to get it out of the way early.”
Lucius shot a quick look of disdain across the table, and Hermione knew that it could only be meant for her.
She looked back down at her food, hoping for just a few more minutes of normalcy.
“This lamb is delicious,” she offered, taking another bite of the decadent meat. She couldn’t say she’d ever had lamb outside of sandwiches and wraps before; it was ridiculously expensive, but now… she might have to try her hand at making it herself.
“He was nice too,” Leo chimed in seriously. “His name was Fluffy, and he had three eyes!”
Hermione must’ve looked confused because Cygnus spoke immediately.
“Fluffy was in my flock,” the man explained. “Leo helped me get him to the butcher. And he didn’t actually have three eyes - just a darker spot of fur on his forehead that looked a bit like a third eye.”
Hermione did her best to continue chewing the bite of lamb she’d just put in her mouth. Obviously she knew where meat came from, but all in a very abstract and distanced way. She preferred not to think about her food as the living, breathing, adorable animal it had once been.
“Oh! I can do a toast,” Leo held his glass towards the center of the table. “To Fluffy! You were a good friend, but even better food.”
Hermione felt a bit sick, but was grateful for the laughter that overtook the table at the boy’s proclamation. To Fluffy, indeed.
xx
“Ready?” Draco asked, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s temple.
They had arrived back to his place with both Gryff and Puff in tow, and the four of them were curled up on Draco’s bed. It hadn’t even been a real fight; it seemed that Draco was hard-pressed to say no when she was in a downward spiral.
“As I’ll ever be,” she sighed and turned her phone back on. It started buzzing immediately, and she let herself sink bonelessly into Draco’s chest. She was laying in the V of his legs with the two dogs ensconced on either side of them, and she figured this was as good as it’d get in terms of places to be as she confronted reality.
“Start with texts,” Draco directed, his voice taking on the low thrum of dominance that always had her feeling a bit aroused and extremely taken care of.
“157,” she murmured, opening up the messages app. “Well… it looks like most are from Pansy.”
Maybe there was an upside to having very few friends?
She held her phone up so Draco could see as she skimmed through her text inbox without replying to anyone or digging into the individual threads. Even the preview of the texts served to lift her spirits.
James: Proud of you kiddo. Let me know if you…
Remus: You’ll be okay… We’re here for you.
Pansy: I’ll kill you if you’re not already dead. REPLY
Cho: Is that really you??
Luna: I just dropped off some scones at Draco’s…
Mandy: Girl… Ru fucking kidding me???
Harry: Mione?????
Percy: Happy Easter, Hermione!
Tonks: HELLLO???? I KNEW IT. Reporters are rea…
“Not so bad?” Draco asked, running a hand under the big Tar Heels shirt Hermione was wearing and rubbing her stomach.
“Not on the surface, I’m sure there are a million more to come.”
“We’ll take it one step at a time,” Draco soothed. “How many voicemails?”
“Only three.”
Thank God no one liked to hop on the phone anymore. Texts were far easier to handle.
“Let’s listen to them,” the man instructed, and Hermione felt herself sink into his embrace a little.
At a time where she felt so uncertain and frazzled, Draco seemed to be completely in control. She had no idea how he was so composed, but she was grateful.
“Can you answer my texts? Your followers are blowing up and people I haven’t spoken to since Harvard are reaching out like I don’t know exactly what they’re doing! Happy Easter my ass. Love ya. Call me… immediately!”
Hermione turned to smile softly at Draco after Pansy’s voice faded out. She hit play on the next message.
“Hermione… what the hell are you doing, girl? I have like… a million calls and texts and emails and DMs from reporters asking for statements. I was wondering why Remus gave me a lecture about protecting the identities of our staff, but shit.. Now I know. Okay, wow. So call me when you’re done with your boy toy and the legion of evil. Can I make those jokes anymore? Shit, is he listening? If he is… I knew you two were together months ago! And Hermione denied it! Bye! Call me!”
“If Gemma talked like that I’d fire her,” Draco said, making Hermione laugh. His communications director was just as buttoned-up as he was, while Tonks was just as energetic and even more eccentric than James. It worked out well.
“She’s… a character, but I trust her,” Hermione defended her colleague gently. She hit play on the next message.
“Mione? What the hell’s going on? Dad said to leave you alone, but.. Hey!”
“Happy Easter gal, I told Harry to leave you alone, but when has my son ever listened? Go enjoy your day, eat some caviar and foie gras. Just make sure you don’t drink red wine they try to give you... Baptists don’t drink wine. It’s the blood of innocent children. There’s no coming back once you’ve taken a sip... look where Snape ended up. I'm just kidding dear... enjoy yourself. We’ll face the music when we have to. I’ll get this one to go away.”
“Hey! Da-”
The line went dead and Hermione rolled her eyes.
“If only the American people knew who they were trusting to represent them. I mean… that man is the voice of over 815,000 people in Congress.”
“Oh, stop! James is a good man, he’s just a bit fast and loose with his tongue.”
“That’s one way of putting it. How about we call Pansy and find out what’s come out so far?”
“That makes sense… I figure it’s better to hear it from her then check social media myself,” Hermione agreed as she hit her friend’s contact.
“Finally!” Pansy exclaimed. “What’s going on?”
“Happy Easter to you too, sis,” Hermione smiled. “We’re back at Draco’s and just going through all of my messages. We figured you could give us a rundown of what’s happened.”
“Well, some dumb ass from your high school tweeted out who you were when the first photos and videos popped up and the Draco stans confirmed your identity almost immediately. You have over 75,000 new Twitter followers and over 100,000 on Instagram.”
“Why does anyone even care,” she replied in a slightly dazed tone. They knew that this was a possibility once her face was public, but… why would people follow her? She didn’t even post photos with Draco - her stories were photos of food and boomerangs of her walking in heels through the Capitol on days she liked her outfit. They’d be sorely disappointed if they were hoping for content with a certain blond man.
“Why wouldn’t they care is the better question. You're making news on a day where most people are stuck in their grandmother’s house that smells like cat litter, listening to their relatives fight about the last will and testament of someone awful and rich who isn’t even dead yet. There’s nothing to do but stalk you and speculate. Talking shit online is one of the few joys these poor souls can indulge in.”
Well… that was one very specific way to put it.
Draco continued to rub Hermione’s stomach in a way that had her eyes opening and closing slowly. She needed a nap.
“How bad is it?” she asked in a quiet voice, and felt Draco immediately stiffen up behind her. This would be the hardest part; he wanted to protect her from everything bad in the world, and there was no possibility of that now.
Pansy made a humming noise, “About half and half, honestly. Hill reporters are wondering how you’re still employed, Draco stans think you’re a gold digging hoe, and others just think it’s sweet that he finally found love. Honestly, most people are just shocked he isn’t gay. Really, that’s the best part of all of this; everyone knows Lucius wouldn’t allow Draco to have a Democrat as a beard, so… he’s basically confirmed hetero.”
“Thanks for that,” Draco replied drily. “Has it made it off of Twitter yet?”
“In the past hour it has. POLITICO reporting that Hermione is the girl who you got angry at Slughorn for putting his greasy paws on, an anonymous source telling the Washington Post that you’re the last person they’d ever see going for Draco, and TMZ even has a few photos from you two at Filomena back in February. Nothing too surprising, but there is talk about whether or not you're legal.”
“I don’t look that young!” Hermione groaned.
“I mean… you do. Sorry, sis. They found your Linkedin, though, so people know you’re legal.”
“And media requests?”
Pansy groaned, “So many. I’m glad you told the team beforehand so that Gemma knew to just compile them all rather than sending them over individually. We’d be emailing you all day.”
“I told her not to bother checking them today!” Draco replied frustratedly, running a hand through his hair.
“Church is over, she’s fine. Better for us to get ahead of it now. Just don’t forget to give us a bonus come Christmas, hm?”
Hermione let out a giggle at that, despite knowing how much Pansy’s audacious behavior bugged Draco.
“Noted. Thank you both. I’ll check my phone and get back to her.”
“You’re still not doing any media, right?” Pansy clarified.
“No,” Draco said immediately. “People don’t need to hear from us right now… going out together was the only statement they’ll get right now.”
“Works for me,” Pansy replied. “You okay, sis?”
“I’m fine,” Hermione sighed. “Just annoyed that we even have to worry about what comes next. There’s a difference between planning for this and actually living it out.”
Draco’s hand tensed on her stomach for a split second before he continued his soothing touch.
“We’ll get through it, I promise. I’ll keep an eye on the chatter from Dumbledore’s little army of keyboard warriors, you two just go nap and pretend the world doesn’t exist while you can.”
“Sounds good to me. I love you, Pans.”
“Love you too, bye guys,” Pansy hung up, and Hermione turned to look up at Draco.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Draco’s face fell for only a moment.
“I’m not regretting it, Draco,” she promised before he could spiral.
“I never said you were, sweetheart.”
“I know that look… I’m fine. We’re going to be fine. But I think they have the right idea,” she cocked her head towards the snoring dogs. “Let’s take a nap.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled softly, the expression not quite reaching his eyes.
Hermione couldn’t let it bother her, not when they’d have plenty of time to spend worrying about the world’s reactions. For now, they’d nap, soak up some dog snuggles, and try to forget anyone else existed.
xxx
April 29, 2019
Hermione’s first day back at work arrived far faster than she could’ve ever anticipated, and the only feeling in her chest was dread. Pansy had forced her to wake up early and put on a full face of makeup, something that she appreciated as they walked through Rayburn House Office Building to the gawking stares of a majority of staffers they passed.
Pansy was fiercer than a 7-foot tall bodyguard with her stilettos and a scowl, something that only eased Hermione’s panic a bit.
“You’re fine. Go put your head down, do your work, and don’t let anyone see you falter. Text me if you need me,” Pansy squeezed Hermione’s hand quickly before walking off to the elevator she’d take up to her own office.
Votes weren’t until 6:30pm, and Hermione had taken the last flight out of Charlotte yesterday while Draco stayed there to attend a few events.
Colin’s eyes were wide as Hermione walked in twenty minutes before the work day officially started.
“Uh, hi Hermione! You’ve been gone a while!”
“Hi Colin,” she smiled kindly, unwinding her scarf and unbuttoning her jacket as she placed them on the hooked coat rack in the front office. “Did you enjoy the slow week last week?”
“Oh yeah! You were right, it really is like a graveyard on a holiday week when members are out of town.”
“It’s a nice reprieve from our normal pace,” Hermione agreed.
“Agreed. Are you... Are you okay? We got a lot of calls about you. Some weren’t so nice, but Remus said we could just hang up on them.”
She felt extremely guilty at that.
“I’m sorry to hear that…”
The young blond interrupted her with fluttering hands, “No! Don’t apologize. People are just jerks, and they weren’t even from the district! Most were from Florida, which didn’t surprise me. Florida man, you know?”
Hermione let out a soft laugh at that, “I do know. Let me know if I can help with anything.”
“Yes ma’am!” he replied with a salute, turning back to his computer as Penelope walked into the office.
Most staffers were late on Mondays, especially when their district was three hours behind east coast time and they knew they wouldn’t be getting calls from constituents. That suited Hermione well, as it meant that her, Colin, and Penelope were the only people in the office.
The normally uptight scheduler gave Hermione an uncertain glance as she sat down and turned her computer on.
“Hermione… how was your holiday?”
“It was so nice to have a few days off,” Hermione replied with a smile, rolling her desk chair out a bit to make eye contact with Penelope. “How are you?”
“Oh, fine… Certainly less busy than you! Wow… I didn’t believe it when I saw.”
Well, Hermione had to appreciate her bluntness.
“I’m sure it was a bit of a shock for everyone. I appreciated getting your text, it was really thoughtful.”
“Of course! I didn’t want to bother you, but I figured you may need some love… the internet is an awful place.
Didn’t she know. She’d made the stupid choice to check her Instagram once over the past week, and had been barraged by comments lambasting her for her views and her boyfriend’s views as people took in her photos at marches and charity events she helped put on back in college.
Her friendship with Mandy had taken a turn for the worse, which had actually hurt Hermione. Despite meeting at work, it felt like their camaraderie and connection had been genuine, yet the girl had followed up on her WTF message from Easter Day with a long, outraged message about the irony of Hermione dating someone who stood against everything that Democrats work for.
She’d typed up an eight paragraph reply refuting each and every point that Mandy made, with the correct amount of sympathy for her lesbian friend. She’d sent Pansy her drafted reply, only for the girl to call her and tell her not to send it. It was a bit jarring to have to assume that her friend… former friend? would screenshot their conversation and send it to the press, but apparently that was something she’d have to worry about now. Cho was understanding, at least, at the moment, so she decided to just be grateful for people showing their true colors.
The snipes from strangers at her looks were a completely different story; those she could handle. Growing up with big teeth and a frizzy mess of hair had toughened her up, and her skin was essentially impenetrable.
She’d never had reason to doubt it when Draco told her she was beautiful, either. Maybe that would’ve been different if he was younger. Her boyfriend was a 40-year-old man who’d met some of the most powerful, beautiful, and wealthy women that the world had to offer and he wasn’t interested in any of them. If he told her she was perfect for him, then she had no reason to distrust that.
“I’ve been keeping off it as much as possible while I can.”
Penelope nodded, shoving a piece of curly, dark blonde hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Hermione smiled, grateful that her most frigid colleague wasn’t rude or overbearing and also slightly guilty about counting Penelope out as a friend without really getting to know her.
The day started slowly, as most post-holiday Mondays did. Hermione was still blushing from the dramatic scene that Tonks had pulled once she’d shown up an hour after the workday had begun. She could only imagine what the office had been like last week, when James and Remus weren’t in and Hermione was also absent. Judging by the looks on her colleagues faces, though, they’d gotten most of their gossiping out before she’d returned.
It was, however, the dreaded period between spring and summer that left them without interns, and Hermione was roped into assisting Colin with answering the phones.
She took two phone calls that were from angry old women who wanted to speak to James about allowing one of his staffers to date a much older man. They hadn’t known they were speaking to said staffer, thank God, but it left Hermione unsettled regardless. Did they really believe James had that level of involvement in his team’s lives?
Hermione: Are you guys getting awful calls too?
Pansy: We’re always getting phone calls from awful people. You’d have to be more specific.
Hermione: You know what I mean.
Pansy: We are, but it doesn’t matter. Blaise said we can hang up if they get obscene. I find great joy in doing just that.
Hermione: I wish you would’ve told me.
She clenched her fists, putting the phone down without waiting to see if Pansy replied. Both her colleagues and Draco’s staff were being berated on the phone for something that didn’t even have to do with their jobs. What the hell was wrong with people?
And angry was how Draco found her that night, furiously baking batch after batch of cookies in his kitchen.
“Sweetheart?” he asked, taking off his suit jacket.
“Hi,” she replied, not looking up from where she was spooning the dry ingredients into his Kitchenaid.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, you know, no one told me that both your staff and my team were getting awful calls about us!” she replied, frustrated tears threatening to spill down her face after building up all day.
Draco’s sigh was audible even over the whirring of the standmixer, and Hermione leaned back into his arms after he walked over to her.
“Sweetheart,” he crooned. “It’s okay… We deal with angry calls all of the time. It’s what staffers sign up for, unfortunately. You know that.”
“They sign up to take calls about bills people hate or current events, not a romantic relationship that has absolutely nothing to do with the work either you or James are doing!”
“Hermione… There’s nothing we can do. The calls are going to keep coming as long as I’m in office and you’re working, at least for now.”
“So what?” she asked, placing the bowl she was holding onto the table and whipping around to look at him. “I quit so that my colleagues can live in peace?”
He shook his head, running a cold hand down her mascara-covered cheek.
“This will blow over soon, baby… It always does. The next few weeks are going to feel oppressive, but after that? We’ll fade into obscurity until father gets the nomination next year.”
“That sounds too good to be true. I just feel so bad that everyone is being brought into this.”
“Cookies are not needed, but they’ll love you more for it,” Draco smiled, eyes flicking over to. “My sweet girl…”
“I love you,” she breathed, hopping onto her tippy toes in order to press a kiss to his lips.
Draco’s response was immediate, and Hermione let out a pleased sigh as he hefted her onto the counter and stepped in between her legs.
There was nothing inherently sexual about their kiss, it was a pressing of lips and touching of tongues that brought her more calm than she’d felt since leaving Draco in North Carolina days before.
Which was, of course, why they were interrupted by an insistent buzzing in Draco’s pants pocket.
“Shit,” he muttered, and Hermione knew he was just as frustrated as she was by his rare use of the expletive. “Hello.”
Hermione could hear Lucius on the other end of the line, which brought the day’s anxiety back to the forefront of her mind.
“Yes… Yes.”
She didn’t know if his voice was actually raised or if Draco’s volume was just all the way up, but whatever it was… Lucius wouldn’t shut up, and he sounded annoyed.
“Of course. Whatever we need to do, father.”
Hermione tried not to kick the cabinets in childlike impatience as she waited for Draco to wrap up.
“Give mother my love, yes. Goodnight.”
Draco tossed his phone on the counter as soon as he hung up, pulling Hermione fully into his arm. Despite knowing he wouldn’t drop her, she wrapped her legs around him and rested her head in the crook of his neck.
“What is it?” she breathed into his neck a few minutes later, almost scared to break the peace of the moment.
“Nothing, father’s just being paranoid. He hasn’t heard anything negative from most of his top donors, which makes him think they’re talking behind his back.”
She weighed her reply for a moment, not sure what to say. Could a man like Lucius Malfoy really be that insecure?
Draco held his body tightly as he walked into the sitting room and carefully laying down on the couch with Hermione still bundled up in his arms. She didn’t have the heart to mention the half-mixed cookie dough, not when he looked as distressed as he did.
“He wants us to attend a donor appreciation dinner this weekend to see how people react to seeing us together face-to-face.”
Tamping down her immediate reaction, which was outrage, she ran her hands through his hair so that he was looking up at her instead of scowling off into the distance.
“And what do you want?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, sweetheart. We’ll go for a bit, it’ll be fine.”
“I trust you. I’ll text your mom and see what I need to wear.”
Draco had a small smile on his face at that, “Sounds good sweetheart.”
“Oh! What do you mean by most didn’t have a negative reaction?”
The man stiffened at that, placing one large hand on the back of her head and pulling her towards him until she was squished against his chest.
“It doesn’t matter. They don’t even deserve to look at you, let alone have an opinion about you.”
Rather than get angry, Hermione laughed. It was impossible not to be amused by the way Draco didn’t let her pull back from his chest to make eye contact, like she was his favorite teddy bear. Which… she pretty much was.
“It’s not funny, Hermione.”
“Draco, my sweet,” she nuzzled his chest which was basically the only movement she could make. “A bunch of rich old white men who cheat on their wives and have the audacity to feign outrage over your consensual relationship aren’t going to hurt my feelings. They mean nothing to me.”
“They don’t know anything about you,” he replied tightly.
“Exactly. They know nothing about me. It’s easier said than done, but I’m trying to stay sane here. And allowing every stranger with an opinion to influence my self worth is not conducive to sanity.”
“My perfect sweetheart… No one deserves you.”
“You do,” she promised, letting out a soft noise of contentment. “You do.”