Mirror Image

The Manor was home. It had, admittedly, felt cold and unfamiliar and painful when she first came to stay there, even after an entire summer of being a frequent guest. But after her holidays at the Manor, it had become her home. Her true home. Hermione felt welcomes from the moment she felt the wards open for her, hugging around her and giving way for her, to the moment she laid her head on her own pillows.

By the time they got back to the house from the train station, there was already music playing in the sitting room, and Hermione could smell a heady pot of tea - Narcissa’s own rose-black blend. Lucius and the boys were clearly entertaining themselves, making a raucous noise from the sitting room. It was Theo, Hermione realized belatedly, telling a story about some mishap in the last transfiguration class in the year. Lucius and Draco were laughing, high and light, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile.

Narcissa noticed. The older woman stooped low and squeezed Hermione’s arms, giving her a warm smile.

“They are quite wonderful boys,” Narcissa remarked, and Hermione avoided eye contact. She hadn’t found an answer to Narcissa’s letter in all these months since she received it, but Hermione knew answers would be demanded sooner or later. “Don’t be embarrassed, child. I fell for a Malfoy, too, once upon a time.”

And then Narcissa went on, leaving Hermione in the hall for a moment to collect herself. It was strange. One moment, Narcissa was warning Hermione of Draco and Theo’s bond, and the next she was seemingly encouraging Hermione in her little crush. No, not a crush. Definitely not a crush. Hermione couldn’t have a crush on Draco or on Theo because then she’d be a problem, and she was already making herself a problem for the Malfoys. She needed to be normal, to act as she would with a friend.

Hermione took a deep breath, calming her nerves. She thought about what she’d do for Harry and Ron the first time coming to visit them when they were younger, when they were happier. 

Then she joined the older woman at her side and hurried into the sitting room. Lucius was there, pouring cups of tea and greeting his wife with a kiss. Draco and Theo were on the couch along the far wall, Draco’s legs pulled up under his body comfortably and Theo sprawled out over more than just his share of the couch.

Lucius turned away from Narcissa and gave Hermione a tight, warm hug before pushing a cup of tea into the younger girl’s hands. “One sugar, how you like.”

“Thank you, Lucius,” Hermione said brightly, and she joined the boys on the couch. Theo comically stuck out his legs further, as if to be blocking Hermione from sitting. She just laughed at his antics and sat herself between them, right on top of Theo’s legs.

Draco let out a bark of laughter and grinned at Hermione while Theo yanked his legs away and howled, pretending as though they were terribly hurt. Hermione felt something warm, and entirely out of her control, rise up in her chest and she leaned over to kiss Theo’s cheek before she could convince herself not to. His cheeks went bright red at the contact and he let out a surprised gasp, and Draco cleared his throat pointedly. Hermione turned back to him and laughed.

“Don’t worry, Drake. No one can forget your presence in the room.” And then she leaned his way and kissed his cheek.

It was fine, right? Being in the same room as them, sitting close to them, it was hard to remember what Hermione had been telling herself for the last few weeks: they weren’t hers to have, she shouldn’t be acting this way towards them. Here in this room, she wanted to indulge herself, she wanted to feel that exhilarating swoop in her stomach when she got near the boys.

Fruit never tastes as sweet as when it is forbidden after all, and Hermione couldn’t bring herself to remember why it was forbidden in the first place.

“Enough with the kisses hello,” Lucius said, fond and play-annoyed. Hermione was spared again. “Tell us about the last of your year, Hermione.”

“The boys had nothing interesting to say about it,” Narcissa added. “Very bland letters they sent, mostly about your dress and that awful Krum always trailing after you.”

Both Draco and Theo’s faces were blazing at that point, both of them were avoiding eye contact, but Hermione just gave Lucius and Narcissa a tight-lipped smile. “It was fine. Much of it was helping Harry and Ron with their school work. With the end of the Tournament, and that professor they arrested for being a Death Eater, I really just tried to keep my head down.”

Lucius was looking at her curiously, and both Draco and Theo were staring at her like they couldn’t believe she wouldn’t mention her little disappearing act. Hermione inched her fingers towards Draco’s hand, squeezing when she found his fingers, and he took the hint.

“We were quite worried, actually,” Draco said. “When the Defense professor was taken away, they told us exams would be postponed. I thought Mya would be distraught, certainly, but she took it standing up as they say.”

Lucius and Narcissa both gave a short, tinkling laugh, and then they were all called away to dinner.

~~~

The start of summer passed in a hazy routine of sun and books and lazy mornings. Hermione was constantly pulled between her heart and her head - she tried to keep her distance, give Theo and Draco some space together without her there to fall even further into their orbit, but they wouldn’t let her. They sought her out even in her own room, to spend time with her, and it was getting harder to deny her little crush. Theo was in rare form over the first week of the summer hols, always a witty remark on the tip of his tongue. And he was devouring books like he never did at school, seemingly caught in the pages without any peers or classes to distract him. And Draco was softer, even more pliant and kind and full of gentle smiles, than he was at school or the summer before. He was always making himself available to Hermione, a cup of tea in his hand or a suggestion for a walk in the gardens. Once, he’d even offered to dance with her.

Inside, there were four walls holding them together, forcing a close proximity. Outside, at least there was a breeze to cool her blush and endless space to put between herself and the boys.

Picnics in the garden became their every-day escape. Draco would organize the food, being such a particular eater himself, and Theo and Hermione would take turns reading out loud from whatever books they found that caught their eye. Theo almost always picked something real - an exploration of wizarding legal proceedings, healer magic, something about blood purity in the early twelfth century. Hermione, in stark and unusual contrast, picked fiction. Among some of the books Hermione had brought with her from her house were the complete collection of Roald Dahl, and she liked to share the stories of her childhood. It was a different kind of magic, but it was just as good. The boys were particularly fond of the Chocolate Factory, and they’d just gotten to the place where Mike Teavee was sucked into the television, and Hermione had to explain at great lengths what a television even was. 

Theo was called home that same night they got to the Mike Teavee scene, so the rest of the book would have to wait. While it was typical for Theo to spend weeks with the Malfoys during the summer holidays, his father usually requested he come home at least a couple times. For all Thoros Nott was a hateful, angry father, he did have a reputation to uphold.

Theo left for his house just nine days into the summer holidays, and Hermione felt the whole house dim a little bit.

Lucius - having taken an entire week off work to spend the start of summer with Theo, Draco, and Hermione - started going into the office more regularly the same day Theo left for the Nott Estate, and Draco took to going with him on certain days. On most days, actually, and Draco was usually up and gone before Hermione even got up for the day. Which left Hermione and Narcissa home alone.

At first, Narcissa took Hermione along with her to pick out some new furniture. For months, Narcissa had been thinking about redecorating the smaller sitting room by the dining room, and she’d finally gotten the inspiration for what she wanted it to look like. She and Lucius only bought furniture from a wizard out in Spain who made them all by hand, only aided by magic to charm the pieces with durability and stain-resistance. The shop was in a little wizarding town outside of Madrid, so there was no chance of Narcissa being spotted out with Hermione. The two of them took their time picking out new couches and tables and lamps, and they spent two weeks putting the sitting room in its new order. When that project was done, they ended up redecorating the study on the first floor as well, Narcissa’s own bathroom, Hermione’s bathroom, and the formal dining room.

As June turned to July, they ran out of things to do within the Manor unless they wanted to redecorate rooms that had already been redecorated in the last year. Theo was still at the Nott Estate, working on some kind of family matter that he was frustratingly tight-lipped about, and Draco was busy at work with his own father. They were even postponing Draco’s birthday celebration for whenever Theo got back to the Manor, so there was no party to plan either.

Narcissa and Hermione went shopping. They tried on ridiculous dresses, with trains and feathers and tulle, and they laughed while trying on some over-the-top jewels. Narcissa loved the more unusual pieces - rings in the shape of skulls and spiders, necklaces that wrapped around her neck like snakes with emerald eyes, and earrings that dripped like blood. Hermione was much more traditional, trying on the Princess Diana cut rings and neat, diamond studs, ruby and emerald bracelets. All stores on the continent, in Spain or France or Switzerland or Germany or Italy.

They even went looking for new leather shoes in some small town in the Netherlands that Narcissa swore by.

Even that became boring after a few weeks, though. There were only so many places to go and things to see in those towns, and they exhausted the shops, the museums, and the libraries.

Which is how Hermione came to find herself standing beside Narcissa on the back patio at half-past noon on a Wednesday in the middle of the July sun. The older witch was in a black bikini, reclining on a lounge chair in the sun, her hair catching the light in some kind of glorious halo. “Cissa?”

“Hm?” Narcissa hummed and pulled her sunglasses down. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m certainly not gardening,” Narcissa laughed, settling back into the chair. “I’m enjoying the sun. Would you care to join me?”

Hermione wanted to join her. She wanted to look glamorous, reclined on deck furniture and shining in the sun. She wanted to look nice and tanned and tight in all the right places. But she didn’t have any bathing suit like the one Narcissa was wearing.

“I don’t have a bikini like that,” Hermione confessed. Narcissa’s wand waved her way, and in a moment of warm magic, her linen shorts had shrunk up to red bikini bottoms, and her flowy top shrunk into a balconette bra-top to match.

“There you go,” Narcissa said.

Hermione’s feet stuttered to life as she moved towards the chair beside Narcissa’s, only slightly embarrassed by the sudden change in her clothes. She was more embarrassed by the slight pouch of her stomach, the slight stretch marks around her chest, the ill-defined parts of her arms that seemed to flop as she herself sat in the chair. Hermione had always been self-conscious, but sitting beside Narcissa - slim and lean even with the body of a mother nearing her late 30s - it was so much worse. 

And yet, Hermione’s doubts left her mind as she reclined and let the sun wash over her. It felt good on her skin, warm and bright. This smell - heat and warmth and all things summer - was the scent of Narcissa’s magic. This was the scent of comfort.

This was how Draco found them when he appeared in the French doors on the patio. Laid out in the sun, pinking up from the intense heat, Hermione looked like a dream. 

Like a fantasy. She was beautiful. The red was striking against her skin and so bright with her fair skin and dark hair, curls rolling across her shoulders and down her back. She was pinked up, like she’d been laying there for a while, and her eyelashes cast shadows across her cheeks in the light. There were freckles across her shoulders and chest, too, made brighter by the sun.

Draco wanted to count them.

“Draco, dear,” Narcissa called, clearing her throat. Draco shook his head and tried to remember what exactly had brought him out to the patio to begin with. “What is it you needed?”

“Father and I are back,” Draco said, still trying to- “Oh. And Theo sent word he’ll be joining us tonight.”

Hermione perked up at that and sat up, opening her eyes. “Theo’s coming home?”

“Technically,” Draco drawled. “He’s home right now. But yes, he said he’d be here by 3 this afternoon.”

Hermione jumped up from her chair and smiled. Her vision was only slightly green after sitting under the sun, but it cleared quickly, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh, something to do!”

“Mother, have you been keeping her bored all these days I’ve been at work?” Draco asked, and Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“Hermione, dear,” she said. “Go change and leave Draco here with me. I need to speak to him before Theodore joins us this afternoon.”

Hermione went inside to change, leaving Draco with his mother to discuss whatever it was they needed to discuss before Theo got to the Manor. Always so mysterious, those two. It was already 2:15, and she wanted to look presentable. She wisely chose not to look too deeply into that desire to impress Theo.

The idea of an arrangement floated through her mind again, and her impulsive, selfish kiss from their first day back. Ever since Neville told her about them, about the possibility, Hermione had thought about it at the most inopportune moments. Even when she didn’t want to give into the pull of the butterflies in her stomach, she thought about it. Hermione pushed both out of her mind, swallowing the guilt and shame and longing.

Hermione had never quite understood the appeal of wizarding fashions as a Muggle-born, and even now, she preferred her jeans and shorts to the dresses and skirts favored by witches. But Narcissa had gotten her real clothes, not just the standard robes standard issue for Hogwarts students, and they were soft, supple, with magical threads that made them cool, or warm, or light-weight, or water-resistant. Hermione chose one such article - a sundress in light, airy green with a cooling charm woven into the threads - and pulled it on, relishing in the way it soothed her sun-kissed skin almost instantly.

Her hair, while pretty enough down and catching the light of the sun, was wilder than Hermione would have liked. She pulled it back from her face and pinned it into a low, twisted style. She had a comb with a thick, silky bow on it, something Narcissa had given her, that would change colors based on the outfit she was wearing. She pushed it into her hair, and the bow at the top became minty green.

It was already nearly 3 by the time Hermione was dressed and ready to meet Theo in the Library. Draco was already waiting when she got there, Lucius and Narcissa nowhere to be found, and Hermione wondered if that had been intentional.

“You looked pretty,” Draco said, stilted. “On the patio.”

Hermione hummed. “Thank you.”

The Library felt hot, too hot, and Hermione was trying to stay calm, to not think too much about it. It was awkwardly silent, Draco sort of shuffling at her side and Hermione feeling those familiar butterflies. Only they weren’t butterflies anymore. They were full grown, taking flight in her throat. They were a crush, a real one and Hermione didn’t know how she was going to live with it if Draco and Theo really did become a couple like Narcissa had said. Her feelings - the butterflies, the crush, the way Hermione didn’t want to lose either of the boys, the way she felt about her new family, the jealousy, the way she wanted something she couldn’t have - it was complicated and painful. It tore into her heart and made her seize up.

Both she and Draco were saved from further awkward moments by the floo lighting up green and hot. Theo stepped through, a happy but tired smile on his face.

“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes,” he joked. He pulled Draco in for a hug first, pressing his cheek to Draco’s in some socially acceptable kiss, and then turned to Hermione. He held out his hands for her to take, and when she did, he threw her weight around into a spin. She let out a laugh, high and light and tinkling. Her discomfort from before on the patio about her own weight was forgotten in Theo’s arms, with him being so much taller than she was.

“Looking good, Mya,” Theo said. “Almost good enough to eat.”

He snapped his teeth and Hermione blushed, and those damned butterflies were back. What was wrong with her? How could she do this to herself, to her friends, to these wonderful boys? The unhappy, complicated, painful feeling twisted harder.

She forced an easy smile. “You’re looking good yourself,” she said.

Draco at her side snorted. “He looks tired. Glad to be home, Tee?”

Theo nodded. “Very. And I’ve brought a friend with me. His family was… well. After Crouch Jr. was discovered at Hogwarts, everyone’s been really worried about the Death Eaters. The headmaster for Durmstrang was one, you know, Karkoroff? He apparently got fired from his post, so Durmstrang is in chaos. One of the students there, his parents were looking to send him to Hogwarts.”

“This story is never going to end,” Draco bemoaned teasingly. Hermione elbowed him.

“Anyways,” Theo continued, as if there was no interruption at all. “He was staying with us for a bit, but my dad wanted me to bring him here. It’s a distant family sort of situation, I guess his parents are actually distant cousins of mine, so he came to stay with us. He’s really, truly a good person. I think you both would like him, and we can all be friends.”

Draco and Hermione shared a look. “Are you sure you haven’t eaten anything strange?” Hermione asked, half playful and half very concerned about this mysterious son of a friend of a distant cousin somewhere.

Draco snorted. “Or felt any unexplainable urges to act differently?”

Theo spun in a circle, arms outstretched. “I feel the same I always have, Drake. You can check for any kind of curse, or I can solve your curiosity another way.”

He leaned forward and whispered something, something too low for Hermione to hear, but it made Draco’s ears red. Red, red, red.

“He’s fine,” Draco said after a moment, scowling, and Theo turned back to the fire and stuck his head through.

And then came his cousin. Tall, thin, and dark-haired. Wearing a pair of linen slacks and a bright, pastel blue shirt that brought out the caramel in his eyes. Pale, but still somehow tanned and warm from the sun.

Hermione’s hands began to shake, her whole body convulsing suddenly as if ice had been tipped down her back. As if she were staring at some nightmarish monster and not a 16-year-old boy.

Theo was at her side in a moment, concerned, and Draco grabbed her hand tight, taking some of the tremors from her. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t think even as Draco and Theo asked her what was wrong. All she could see was danger, fear, and pain. All she could see was Wormtail dead at her feet, blood on her hands and face, a freezing night spent in the forest, staring up to the void sky and hating herself. Talk about being a monster - she was staring at one she had made with her own two hands.

Tom Riddle smiled, a certain kind of warmth and sincerity reaching his eyes as he did so, and he stared into Hermione’s eyes.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. Theodore has told me so much.”