The invitation
The wild-haired woman's footsteps were accurate, her black tactical boots, though they made less noise than Harry's dragonskin boots (a gift from the Minister for Magic), still creaked the old wooden floor.
"The back garden is clear," whispered Parvati Patil's wolf-like patronus, then evaporated into thin air next to them.
Hermione glanced behind the top door on the first floor of the old and secluded cabin that had yet to be checked, this was the kitchen, there were pots and plates in place and a few others in the sink that looked dirty for several weeks.
"We have to go upstairs, for all we know he might appear from inside the house before we catch him." muttered the emerald-eyed black-haired man from the doorway.
His bushy eyebrows were furrowed just as they were on every mission, it was a sign that he was focused; Hermione thought to herself to give him a voucher for a day of facial spa since that expression made him look ten years older and his black beard added to the illusion.
The brunette nodded and raised her wand again with her two gloved hands as they left the kitchen and took a couple of steps until they were in front of the stairs: "wait..." she whispered before waving her wand at her shoes and those of his partner, throwing a muffliato without saying a word.
Harry nodded slightly in response and walked up the stairs first, sticking to the wall and pointing toward the rooms that were beginning to be seen from the middle of the steps.
At the end of the flight of stairs, the black-haired man prepared to advance towards the first of the three doors while Hermione watched the walls attentively.
The tapestry was old and half peeled off showing the moo in the wood of the walls, there was also a grandfather clock on one of the walls that didn't even work anymore, it looked quite normal except for all the dust that covered it, but there was something about that clock that caught his attention.
As Harry took the knob of the first door and slowly opened it, she approached the clock still with her wand sheathed, the place was in total silence, but there was a sound in her head that reminded her of a bug hitting against a light bulb or a glass surface.
The brunette slightly turned her head towards her companion who was already inspecting the first room that seemed empty, she had the impression that he did not hear the same thing as her, but she decided that it was not prudent to speak at that moment; With the sleeve of his burgundy overcoat he cleaned the glass of the clock so that he could see the pendulum through it, but as soon as he touched it the clock began to work and emit an unbearable bell tower sound, and in turn Hermione was pushed back as if by the force of a small explosion.
The brown-eyed woman was about to lose her balance if it weren't for Harry who left the room as soon as he heard the rumble, he held her below her elbows and helped her stand up properly again.
"What the hell is it that sounds?!" exclaimed Harry, stunned by the sound of the bells.
As Hermione grimaced her face and began to open her mouth to explain herself, one of the doors to the remaining two rooms opened and a hooded man ran off at full speed pushing both Aurors and casting inexperienced and aiming spells everywhere, which would have impacted either of them if not for the protective spell that Hermione hurriedly cast.
The brunette woman and the black-haired man quickly regained their balance and did not even have to see each other to start running; They hurried to follow the subject in a hurry down the stairs, Harry practically lowered them two by two trying to get one of his spells to hit the thin man who dodged them with a lot of luck or throw himself on him and subdue him with the weight of his own body, while her companion tried to think faster than both men who began to leave through the door.
"Granger!" shouted Parvati, their third on the little mission, rushing through the back door trying to speak over the desperate sound of the nonexistent bells.
The brunette didn't even bother to explain to the other woman what was happening and ran through the front door after her partner and the subject.
Hermione was sure that the man wouldn't be able to cross the barrier she put up around the small piece of land in the cabin, so she wasn't surprised when she found Harry and the guy dueling near the porch
"Stupefy!" shouted Hermione pointing at the guy, but he managed to protect himself before he hit
"Expulsion!" Harry attacked, the man again protected himself.
The brunette noticed that most of the time the man had only been protecting himself, but he had not attacked much, which put him in one of two situations.
1. He was a lousy duelist who couldn't remember any decent spells.
1. That wasn't his wand, and he wasn't responding to it for more than casting lousy spells and a couple of shields.
In either case he knew she didn't need to intervene, Harry Potter was the best duelist in the Auror department and a guy with an unrequited wand wasn't going to be a big problem for him.
Which was incredibly convenient when Parvati shouted from inside the cabin that was heard progressively louder, as she ran towards the entrance "it's cursed!, IT'S CURSED!, potter, granger, the clock...!"
Before she could finish her frase, the second floor exploded, a rumble echoed through the air. The hut, which had remained silent, shook violently. The wood creaked, protesting against the force of the explosion that loomed inside.
a bright flame erupted from the second floor helping the rising sun at five in the morning to illuminate the sky; The windows shattered into a thousand pieces by the force of the explosion, projecting shards of glass that Hermione's quick mind feared was some termira fragment embedded in some eye, organ, or limb of her two friends.
When the worst of the explosion passed and Hermione's mind was not so blurry, she realized that she was lying with her face glued to the ground several meters away from the porch; she thought about thanking her barriers for preventing her from flying farther to end up in some oak tree in the thick forest, but she decided she wouldn't when she tried to get up quickly and her back hurt like in her first physical test to be an Auror.
"Shit," Hermione muttered in what seemed more like a growl of pain than a word, as she dropped back to earth.
The least painful thing he could do at the moment was to turn her head to look for his partner and Parvati.
she distinguished from among the wood, tiles and dust two figures diagonally to where he was, one of them was squatting subduing the other, she was grateful that this figure was Harry with his burgundy cloak just like his throwing a petrificus totalus at the other guy.
"Hermione, are you okay?!" asked the black-haired man, raising his face full of ash and dirt towards his best friend.
Hermione swallowed hard and tired and turned around so that her face was facing the sky "define well." she exclaimed as loudly as she could with a touch of sarcasm "Parvati?!" she bellowed the name of her other companion auror who stood up from wherever she was and walked towards her with concern
"I'm not seriously injured, which I think is Harry's definition right now," replied the woman with straight black hair in a ponytail as she limped toward Hermione and extended a hand toward her.
The tousled-haired brunette shook her head slightly with his head closing her eyes "no, I think I'm going to stay here for a few minutes, my coccyx needs to sleep for a while."
Parvati laughed lightly and walked away to conjure a patronus and inform their superiors of the status of the mission.
Tiredness was taking hold of hermione, her eyelids began to weigh and the light breeze of the forest overshadowed a little the hum of the explosion in her eardrums, but that small moment of stillness was interrupted by a strong blue light next to her and a male voice that was not exactly what she wanted to hear at that moment.
"Good morning, Granger, maybe you were asleep, so I'm so sorry that my Patronus is what's waking you up." said the male voice with a sarcastic and hostile tone so subtle that she knew only she could differentiate from an affectionate tone.
Hermione opened her eyes wide and turned her face slightly to see the blue light peacock from which the voice was coming out.
"I just wanted to make sure you received my gift for dinner tonight." The brunette's frown turned into an expression of annoyed remembrance.
"It can't be..." She muttered to herself, running her hands over her face, filling herself even more with dirt and discovering some blood on her forehead.
"Yes, Granger, the dinner at the mansion for my mother's fifty-third birthday that I mentioned to you about a week ago." His diplomatic, deep voice that evoked nothing but sympathy in the wizarding world was going to cause him a migraine of anger at that moment (which would surely be more of a migraine from the blow of the explosion, But he preferred to attribute it to Malfoy's unbearably petulant). "I have an important meeting with the minister at five o'clock, so I'm afraid I won't be able to show up at your apartment sooner..."
"Yes, of course, what a pity." the brunette grunted between her teeth sarcastically.
"So you can get by Red Flu directly to the mansion, the connection will be open for you."
"It's all cordial," she said with a faint acid laugh.
"I guess I'll see you tonight, Granger." There was a pause of a second before she had to hear his voice again. "Oh, and I almost forgot, it's a formal dinner, so you can do your hair, you know, if you want." The peacock evaporated into nothingness as Hermione sat up turning totally red. She could swear that she heard his mocking and sarcastic smile while he commented on the last thing and that made her want to blow him to pieces like the cabin.
"That bastard, son of...!" Before he could finish his complaint, Harry appeared next to her with a faint amused smile, "What's funny?!" she asked her best friend in annoyance, letting out a slight gasp of pain as he stood up shaking his burgundy cloak.
The mischievous gleam in his green eyes through his round glasses bothered her even more, if that could be done."that was your boyfriend?"
"The same idiot." he replied with a fake and frighteningly large smile, "guess who's having dinner with his mother-in-law tonight?"
______________
Lied.
If he had a meeting with the minister for magic, but that wouldn't take more than thirty minutes.
He simply wanted to imagine Granger's angry expression upon receiving a patronus from him at 5:15 AM reminding him of the dinner to which he would clearly decline the invitation if it were not for his agreement.
An agreement he was pondering as he tried to decipher in front of his mirror how to tie a Muggle tie, a tie that, like Granger with dinner, he would like to refrain from wearing, but his mother had insisted all week that all her guests wear Muggle clothes instead of tunics.
The same reason why his mother had personally bought a dress for the great hermione granger and had insisted that he send it to her as a gift of his own.
He had spent the last few days thinking of a thousand ways to tell his mother, when the time came, that his new famous and renowned daughter-in-law who, in addition, was dying to meet "More deeply", was actually a small show that they had put on for the benefit of both of them and that surprisingly for no one was bearing fruit.
Over the past eight years he had begun to rebuild a life and career with the crumbs of chaos that his parents' (specifically his late father's) decisions and even his own cowardly actions had come by, but none of it had been easy.
Malfoy's name had lost the meaning of power and respect it had once had and had been changed by expressions of hatred and repudiation whenever it was mentioned, so much so that during the first months after the Battle of Hogwarts, he had considered changing his surname to his mother's maiden name, black, Which, although not the best fame, was the surname of Sirius Black, a redeemed ex-convict turned war hero (as well as godfather of the acclaimed Scarface)
But when he realized that it would mean being just as cowardly as when he took the dark mark, the months with prisoners in his dungeons, the year he let Death Eaters into a school full of innocent children, and the day they tortured the damn granger in his living room, in front of his face, while he did nothing and she shouted his name for help.
he still had nightmares about it, but he wouldn't admit it out loud.
He wanted the Malfoy surname to be by word of mouth, but not because of the damage they had caused but for something better, for a change for the new magical world that was being rebuilt, he wanted to rebuild himself with it, and technically he succeeded.
Almost eight years later he had what he had dreamed of when he was eighteen years old and he dreaded going to Azkaban for life; respect. He was a man admitted again, now part of the wizengamont and his opinion was heard, he had voted for the sins of evil men to be sentenced with azkaban or other equivalent penalties and he had voted and interceded for innocents who deserved a change in their lives or the absorption of their debts.
But having that didn't make him feel satisfied, after all he was still a Slytherin and his ambition was beyond his capabilities all the time, which made him notice the doubtful looks of his aristocratic and "politically correct" co-workers. Many of them did not believe that he had changed, when they had a case involving Muggles or Muggle-born wizards in front of them they would look at him as if they expected to see a grimace of disgust on his sharp expressions or to hear the word "mudblood" come out of his lips with contempt.
He didn't even feel free to wear sleeveless shirts or pick them up when he felt hot for fear that others would see the tattoo that typified the worst mistakes of his past and this would cause him to lose everything he had earned with effort and work in recent years.
So when the opportunity arose to pretend to date a witch who happened to be a war heroine with a Cla.s.s One Order of Merlin, considered the brightest of their generation and with a flawless career as an auror, she wasn't going to waste something like that.
"Shit." he growled, gritting his teeth and undoing his 20th attempt at a knot on the Muggle-like gallows to which Muggles were subjected.
A creak at the door made him turn his torso slightly "Master Malfoy, Miss Granger has arrived, Pip offered to come into the room to wait for him, but Miss refused immediately."
He closed his eyes letting out a sigh unable to avoid the faint smile that planted on his lips, he opened his eyes again to nod his head "thank you Pip, I'll be there in a moment." The elfine nodded and disappeared while the blond took the blazer from above his bed and held it on his forearm classily as he walked out of the room.
As he walked down the stairs to the hallway of the floo net, he caught a glimpse of the heeled feet of the woman he was falsely dating; His head tilted to the side as he watched her with some curiosity, the heels were not at all the image of her feet that he was used to seeing, it was strange that she had any shoes other than those worn and lace-up ones she called "Converse" or with her reliable combat boots that he wore with her uniform, boots with which she had threatened to kick him on several occasions.
From there his gaze slowly climbed up her legs until her burgundy red dress began mid-calf, covering her legs and leaving them to the imagination with fluid grace. The skirt, not straight but with a soft and dynamic flare, fell in light waves around the knees, reaching the calf with a cut that suggested movement. The delicate pleats of the skirt seemed to float from her waist where she began to tighten much more, the corset hugging her, accentuating the natural curves and offering a refined silhouette.
The neckline, in the shape of a heart, drew a soft line on the chest, adding a delicate and romantic touch without being excessive, which would have been strange to see in the woman who most days wore black tailored trousers, a wrinkled white shirt, usually with the sleeves gathered proudly showing the scar on her forearm (action which he deeply envied) and the harness of her wand around her shoulders and Her chest that looked nothing like the thick straps of her dress that rested on the shoulders and offered a balance between structure and sensuality of the design, completing it with a perfect combination of strength and delicacy.
When he reached the first step she kept looking at the painting of his father and mother as young men that was just above the red flu fireplace giving him her full attention.
"They must be the most attractive couple I've ever seen," commented the brunette woman, scanning every corner of the portrait
The blond didn't even look at her, he knew the painting by heart. "That's because we're a fake couple, otherwise the prize would be all ours, don't you think?" he replied with mockery and sarcasm
Granger deliberately decided to ignore his provocative comment "it must have been difficult for narci..." she quickly corrected himself, "Your mother, it must have been difficult for her when your father died. They had been together for many years."
"The first year she was, but she has learned to cope with it, I mean... she told me that we will have his new partner as a guest tonight, then..." He shrugged his shoulders trying to hide his uncertainty that increased when Granger decided to look at him for the first time that night.
He immediately decided to adopt a serious and stoic expression and repressed himself internally for having been thinking about the details of his body and his dress for more than a minute.
The brunette woman scanned him from head to toe raising an eyebrow and prudently ignored the subject of Narcissa Black's new partner. "When I found that this dress was not a robe, I thought you had bought it for the purpose of me being the only one at the dinner party who didn't fit, but the thought of the Honourable Malfoy wearing a Muggle suit would not have crossed my mind." Her tone did not seem mocking, but there was some acidity there.
He didn't know how to feel about it when his heart leapt in his chest: "Yes, well, my mother thought I would fall in your favor if we all dressed in 'Muggle style' tonight."
"Would she fall in my favor or would you?" Although she clearly wanted to avoid it by pursing her lips, she let out a slight laugh and put a hand to her face to massage the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a moment, giving him a free pass to observe more carefully the small and almost imperceptible freckles on her bronced skin.
Out of nowhere she opened her eyes and nailed them to his neck.
The platinum blond man had to deflect his silver orbs to the ground quickly, feeling like a complete idiot for looking away like he was a teenager again. "What?" he asked disdainfully, furrowing his blonde eyebrows at the woman shorter than him, even in his heels.
The brunette took several steps that resonated through her heels against the marble on the floor until she was less than half a meter away, which gave her a wider view of the cut on her forehead, half healed, the purple made up on her cheek and a much more noticeable one on her left shoulder.
"What the fuck happened to you, Granger?" he asked harshly, frowning to the extreme.
granger gave him a sharp look "mission, in the morning, a cabin exploded, nothing extreme, although it was quite unpleasant to be lying on the ground in the middle of a raid and have a peacock appear in my face and warn me about a dinner with my fake mother-in-law." The tone of her voice was cynical and defensive, Which was a total change of attitude, but almost as if he had regained his composure, he let out a sigh and continued.
The blond didn't take his skeptical gaze away from her for a second, when she extended her hands to his chest he held her wrists in the air without making much force and even took a step back looking at her in surprise.
Her brown eyes locked into her gray eyes with a hint of humor as she undid the grip on her wrists and raised both hands, showing her palms as if she were being arrested, "I'm going to tie your tie, or would you rather do it?" she asked with amusement.
He looked at her cautiously before turning to where he was closest to her, "If you try to hang me with that, I'll sue you and they'll take away your badge, officer." He pointed out in a seemingly calm manner, but it was actually a threat, and a very bad one because it didn't intimidate the witch at all, who was already starting to tie her tie.
The room was permeated with an air of electrical tension as she took deep breaths that reached the pale man's neck. Her fingers, delicate but firm, moved confidently, adjusting the tie that hung around his neck.
"Do you know what the origin of ties is, Malfoy?" she ask with a slight relaxed smile ignoring the man's previous comment for completely.
The blond man watched her face carefully, rubbing her skin against his sent a wave of heat, a tingle that began in his chest and spread through his body.
As she knotted her tie, she realized how close their faces were, the gray-eyed man wanted to speak, to make a witty comment that would break the silence, but the words were lost in his throat.
"No."
The curly-haired woman smiled more broadly "in the Middle Ages, during the reign of Marie Antoinette in France, it was considered tacky if a woman told a man she wanted him to woo her, but men wanted to know when they were interested, so the tie was invented, which worked for men as an element of seduction as the fan was for women" silently concentrating a little more on the knot he was making "if a man wanted to know if the woman was interested in him, he approached her with his tie undone and if she asked to tie it around his neck, that meant they were giving him free rein."
Draco wondered what was the most captivating thing about her story, the way he could see her lips move cautiously and accurately in every word from so close or what she was saying.
"What are you implying, Granger?" he dared to ask, raising an eyebrow at her, hoping she wouldn't notice the speed at which his heart was beating.
The woman finished tying the tie and brought the knot to the limit of his neck and then ran her open palms around his collarbone and his broad shoulders smoothing the shirt.
"It means, Malfoy, that you need to learn a little Muggle history if you want to be a decent aristocrat." she replied raising her large eyes to his once again "Marie Antoinette did not reign in the Middle Ages, she did in the eighteenth century, which is considered the modern age, and... The tie was created only in the seventeenth century, its origin is not known with certainty, but it is said that it began in Croatia during the Thirty Years' War, when women knotted red scarves around their husbands who went to war, as a symbol of love, fidelity and in the hope that they would return home. Although of course, as always, the French copied this and began to use it to identify themselves with certain political parties." He rolled his eyes at the last thing and moved away from where he was turning his back on the blond and returning to his position of looking at his parents' painting on the fireplace.
When she pulled away, he broke the spell he'd fallen into for a few seconds where he couldn't do more than listen to her with a frown, as if he wasn't fascinated by every fancy word she said.
"One just... Do you wake up being a walking encyclopedia or do you decide to be a know-it-all?" the man question her trying to sound as glacial and mocking as always, but that damn red dress was preventing her.
She laughed aloud at his rhetorical question, but it was a cold, insincere laugh, rather sarcastic "do you choose to be an idiot or is it something you're born with?"
The corners of her lips rose as she returned his comment with that intelligently camouflaged aggressiveness that characterized her.
His train of thought was almost completely diverted as she brushed her voluminous hair to the side and could catch a glimpse of a tattoo in the center of her back, it was a sword of which he could only see the handle and the rest of what he imagined to be the blade of said sword was covered by the damn red dress.
He didn't need to be a griffindor to know that the sword tattooed on his back was the same one from the house he belonged to with which Neville Longbotton had murdered the lord's snake... of Voldemort.
He had always thought her a pretty woman; rough and know-it-all enough for his taste, though that didn't make her any less pleasing to the eye, but for merlin's sake... He now questioned how reliable his beliefs were.
After all, he had accepted that a maniac would mark him for life and make him almost kill Albus Dumbledore, and at the time he had considered that to be the right way to act.