Chapter 5
Monday morning came too quickly, and Hermione was thrust back into her carefully scheduled reality. Her weekend was a blur of skin and sweat, body parts colliding as she let two beautiful men explore her. It was an odd feeling for her otherwise controlled and meticulously planned lifestyle.
She had always been told she wasn’t spontaneous, wasn’t adventurous. That she was too controlling, too Type A. Her choices over the weekend begged to differ. She was, in fact, capable of letting loose. Apparently, she could be spontaneous enough to have a threesome with two men she’d barely spoken to over the last ten years.
Hermione stepped onto the lift, making her way to the sixth floor of the Ministry to her office in the Department of Magical Creatures Protections. Just before the gate closed, a now all too familiar hand stuck in between them, keeping the lift in place. Theodore Nott swaggered in, green eyes growing wide as he realized who he had joined.
“Lovely seeing you first thing on this fine Monday morning, Granger.”
Two more ministry employees filtered onto the lift with them as Theo and Hermione moved to the back to accommodate the crowd. They were shoulder to shoulder, and Hermione struggled to keep her eyes focused front. Theo, however, made no attempt to divert his attention, intently watching her every move.
He leaned in close, voice just above a whisper, “Lovely seeing you first thing on Sunday morning, too. A man could get used to that.” He pulled away and winked mischievously.
“Men,” she chided, a furious blush splotching her cheeks in red. She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to say it, though she was not one to leave someone stay uncorrected.
Theo grinned right as the lift dinged, and the additional two passengers stepped off at the second floor.
He swiftly grabbed her hands and backed her up into the wall. “Yes. Right as always. Men. We could get used to that. And we are certainly interested. If you’ll have us.”
She pulled her hands from his grip and stared up into his eyes. “I’m not really interested in being a plaything for you and Draco Malfoy.”
“Oh darling, you’d be so much more than that.” His fingers danced on her arms sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
She didn’t want to be in a relationship, not so soon after her breakup with Ron. But Hermione Granger would not be treated as an object. She wanted a one-night-stand, and they just happened to have another round after. A positively mind-blowing repeat performance. And she had planned on leaving it at that.
Hermione opened her mouth to list the myriad of objections she held but before she could speak, the lift dinged at the fourth floor. Theo cupped her cheek with one hand as his gaze lingered on her.
“You don’t have to answer now. Take your time. Just…give it some thought.”
*
Hermione immersed herself in her work, which was easy considering she was only halfway through editing a bill that would grant trolls the right to hold employment at select wizarding establishments. She was so buried in paperwork she nearly missed lunch, which was honestly on par for her typical workday.
After noon, a tapping at her office window caught her attention. There was a large brown owl with black beady eyes hooting at her as it rapped its talons on the window.
“Oh! Sorry, big guy.”
Hermione opened the window and reached for the parchment attached to the owl’s leg, a deep green satin ribbon tied in a bow around the message. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled as a particularly forward Slytherin came to mind. She provided the owl with some treats and patted its feathers gently, “Tell Theo I haven’t had time to think.”
The owl gave a low hoot and flew off into the sky. Hermione opened the parchment and scanned the neatly looped script:
Miss Hermione J. Granger,
Your presence is requested this Thursday evening. Please join us for dinner at 7 PM at Malfoy Manor. Dress code: evening wear.
-DLM
Hermione wanted to scream. This had to be a joke. Draco Malfoy invited her to dinner? At Malfoy Manor of all places. And evening wear?
Good Godric. She supposed it was nice to see that some part of the Draco she knew as a child was still in there. Posh as ever, hosting a formal dinner at his ostensibly overlarge estate.
But honestly, an extended one-night-stand (as she’d dubbed her rendezvous with the Death Eaters) was one thing, but dinner was on an entirely different level. Was this a date? Would Theo even be there? Surely Draco wouldn’t just invite her alone. She shook the thought away as quickly as it came. If their interaction over the weekend was their typical repertoire, she had a feeling that Theo and Draco were a package deal. She couldn’t dwell on Draco’s invitation, not that there was much to interpret. He was apparently still a man of few words.
It had been two hours on the dot since she received the dinner invitation when a missive in the shape of a paper crane flew into her office. Its wings fluttered lightly before it made its graceful landing onto the desk before her.
She opened the missive and found that one quick glance over the jagged words scrawled onto the parchment settled her worried nerves. Her mouth quirked up in a half smile.
Granger,
D said he sent an invitation to you for dinner this Thursday. You’ll come, won’t you? He won’t budge about it being at the Manor. He’s been waxing poetic about healing journeys and human growth. The new and improved Draco…anyway…he can be a stubborn bloke sometimes, but he means well. Please do consider joining us. It would truly mean so much to me to us.
xx,
Theo
Hermione had made her decision. Draco’s invitation piqued her curiosity—and her anxiety—and Theo’s request solidified the want inside her. Also—healing journeys? Human growth? She was completely fascinated by this new version of Draco Malfoy. She wanted to get to know him, anxiety be damned. She could tolerate being at Malfoy Manor for a meal; they wouldn’t harm her. In fact, she had the strangest feeling that if anything did happen, they would protect her. She couldn’t explain it, but she just knew.
Before she could overthink and change her mind, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled her response:
See you both Thursday evening.
-HJG
She tapped her wand to the message. “To the office of Theodore Nott.” The parchment folded itself into a paper airplane and lifted off to its destination.
This was really happening. Hermione Granger was going on a formal dinner date at Malfoy Manor with two former Death Eaters. Ginny was going to absolutely die when she told her the news.
*
“You’re going where, now? Hermione Jean Granger if you don’t spill the damn details—” Ginny gripped Hermione’s shoulders and shook her as she questioned her within an inch of her life.
After Hermione had told Ginny of her rather sordid weekend activities, she casually slipped in the dinner invitation at The Manor Thursday, hoping that she would be too distracted by the sexual escapades to ask about the dinner date.
Ginny shot out an expectant hand. “Hand it over.”
There would clearly be no fooling Ginevra Weasley. She would pour over the parchment just as Hermione did and then she would see just how in over-her-head Hermione was.
“Evening wear? Prat.” She moved to the follow up invitation from Theo. “New and improved Draco? This I’ve got to see! Hermione, please tell me you’re going.”
“You just want to hear about another shag-fest.”
“Obviously. I’m living vicariously through you. Can you blame me? Harry’s been abroad for…gods…weeks at the auror conference and I will take whatever I can get. Even by proxy.”
“Orgasm by proxy, that’s new.”
She shrugged, unabashed. “What can I say? You’re a good storyteller. And those men, Godric! It should be illegal to be so fit.”
“And the fact that they’re war criminals?”
“Water under the bridge!” She waved her hands in the air. “That was nearly a decade ago. And they were children—we were children.”
“Well, you’re right there. They have certainly grown up—
“Into quite fine specimens. Tell me again about Theo’s tattoos. And Draco’s scars. And the morning after. You know what? Best that you just repeat the whole story to me.” Ginny plopped down on Hermione’s sofa and propped her feet up on the coffee table.
“Ginevra, you are insatiable.”
“I am but a victim of circumstance. It’s not every day your best friend gets shagged out of her mind by not one, but two appallingly gorgeous and mysterious men.”
*
Thursday came faster than Hermione could fathom, giving her little time to process her apprehension with how busy she'd been working on the troll bill. She stared into her wardrobe with a scowl. Evening wear? What in the world could she possibly transfigure to resemble a formal dress? She sifted through her jumpers, denims, sensible workday skirts and jackets, when she finally landed on a plain black a-line dress she’d worn to her grandmother’s funeral. A frown split across her face. This was what she had to work with? Ridiculous. She had half a mind to don her favorite slouchy cardigan and faded muggle jeans just to prove a point.
After her third attempt to transfigure the dress, she threw her wand down in frustration. It was nearly 6:30 PM when she heard a loud crack come from her living room.
“In here, Gin.” Hermione threw up a silent prayer, thankful that Ginny had come to rescue her, hopefully with some charms in minds to salvage her pathetic attempt at ‘evening wear.’
Hermione startled when a small elf dressed in an impeccably tailored pantsuit and shining black leather heels walked into her bedroom. The little elf’s eyes widened when she saw Hermione.
“Miss Granger?”
“Yes…can I help you?”
“Mister Malfoy sent Poppy to deliver this to Miss Granger.” The elf, Poppy, snapped her fingers and a garment bag materialized into the room, hovering off the floor before them.
“Mister Malfoy?” She could hardly suppress an eye roll. “I won’t be needing it. I don’t need to be dressed like a child.”
“Mister Malfoy said you’d say as much. Which is why Poppy is to give you this message.” She held out her small gray hand with a roll of parchment for Hermione.
Hermione took the message and removed the familiar green ribbon, tossing it on the floor.
Granger,
Please accept this gift from us to you. It is not expected that you wear it tonight, though we are dying to see you in it. No pressure. It’s yours to do with as you please. Poppy has offered to extend her services to you should you request assistance. I would advise against declining her offer, as she can be quite adamant.
See you soon,
xx,
Theo
She read and reread Theo’s scratchy writing on Malfoy stationary. Theo said she wouldn’t be a plaything, yet her they were, already trying to dress her up like their very own little doll. She should be livid, and part of her was. But another part of her was buzzing with anticipation. She was going on a date with two of the most notorious purebloods of her age. If anyone got wind of this, it would certainly send the purist high-society witches into an absolute tailspin. Hermione smirked to herself, picturing the Greengrass and Parkinson girls fuming over the news. Oh, this could be fun.
“Would Miss like Poppy’s help with the…preparations?”
“I…I don’t…”
The elf’s face fell, clearly bracing herself for rejection.
No sense in wasting a perfectly good offer, Merlin knows she wasn’t getting anywhere on her own. Makeup and hair, she could manage, but she had always been rubbish at clothing transfiguration. She wished Ginny were here, but Ginny had training drills for the Harpies all day and night as she prepared for the upcoming match against Falmouth.
“Yes, Poppy. That would be very nice, thank you.”
*
Thirty minutes later she was standing in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, brushing the floo soot from her shoulders while Poppy fussed about to help. She was clad in a floor length emerald colored gown that had been charmed to hug her form in all the right places. The dress was modestly sexy aside from the impossibly high slit up one side that exposed the skin up to her thigh. That was far from modest. She’d worn strappy black platforms that gave her another three inches of height. When she buckled the heels on earlier, she secretly hoped that Theo would get on his knees again later and remove them.
A low whistle from the hall leading to the foyer caught her attention. “My, my, Hermione Granger. You’re looking good enough to eat, my dear. I knew you’d like the dress.” Theo sauntered to her and offered his hand. She placed her hand delicately in his, and he bowed his head, pressing his lips to her knuckles while maintaining eye contact the entire time.
He stared at her through heavy lids and licked his lips. She felt his gaze heavy on her and needed to break the tension before she let him pounce.
“Theodore, must you always have those perfect bedroom eyes trained on me?”
He cracked into his winning smile, his straight white teeth sparkling at her. “Is it working?”
She simply shook her head and laughed, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”
“Ah, little minx. I should have known you’d play hard to get. Come along now before I take you to my rooms and keep you all for myself.”
They walked hand in hand down a marble floored corridor. As they passed what looked like a formal dining area, Hermione paused. “We’re not eating here?”
“No. We never eat in there. Dray thought you’d like to take supper in the conservatory. He’s finishing up in the kitchens and should be joining us momentarily.”
In the kitchens? “Draco Malfoy is cooking us dinner?” she asked incredulously.
“Of course, love. Didn’t want the kitchen elves to be put out on their night off. Bleeding heart, that one. Plus, he enjoys cooking.” She was silent, caught up in her own thoughts. “Does that surprise you?”
Was she surprised? No. That was an understatement. She was thoroughly shocked. “I guess I just…I don’t really know him anymore.”
“I know. That’s why you’re here. We want you to know us…for who we are now,” he added.
They approached a small round table set for three. The silver flatware and white fine China gleamed in the low light of the conservatory. Surrounding the table was soft greenery and colorful flowers, all meticulously maintained as though it were summertime inside the Manor. She wondered if the elves tended to the plants. Perhaps she’d have another shock and find out that her two former Death Eaters like to garden in their spare time as well.
Draco strode in just a moment later, looking severe yet debonair in his sleek black suit, beautifully contrasting with his pale skin. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Hermione. His long legs stepped towards her, and he reached for her hand, just as Theo had earlier, and bent his head to kiss her knuckles.
“Evening, Granger. If I may say, you’re positively stunning. Green is your color.” He winked at Hermione and she all but buckled at the knees.
New and improved Draco Malfoy, meet stunned Hermione Granger.
“Supper will be ready shortly, just crisping up a bit in the oven. Care to tour the grounds until then?”
“I…I’ve seen it.” She’d been here before, long ago, fighting for her life on the drawing room floor. Had he forgotten?
“No, you haven’t. Not like this.”
“Dray’s renovated most of The Manor. Brightened things up a bit.”
“If it hadn’t been in my family for hundreds of years, I’d have burned it to the ground and started entirely anew. But I’m doing what I can with what I have.”
“I see. Okay, then. I’d love a tour.”
Draco offered her a crooked elbow which she politely took, and Theo grabbed her other hand, interlacing their fingers. The three walked through the conservatory as Draco pointed out the names of various plants and Theo tried to turn said plant names into sexual innuendos.
Over dinner, the wine flowed easily as the three fell into comfortable conversation. Draco politely asked about Hermione’s ministry work and what her five-year plan was. She nearly spat out her cabernet.
“Five-year plan? I hardly made it through this week!”
“Hermione Granger without a plan? You’ve changed since our school days.”
Emboldened by the wine, she shot back, “As have you, Draco Malfoy. Tell me about America. I’ve been so curious.”
“Been thinking about me, have you?” Draco smirked and grabbed onto Hermione’s chair, sliding it closer to his. He draped his arm over her shoulders as he told her about finishing his school career abroad. She had been so engrossed in the conversation that she hardly registered the way his fingers twirled absently around a few stray curls at her nape. Theo watched from across the table, eyes fixed on Draco’s hand in Hermione’s hair.
“Dray, should we tell Hermione why we’ve asked her here tonight?”
He hummed, “I thought we could play a little before we discussed business. But, as you wish, love.”
The way Draco and Theo spoke with each other made Hermione’s heart skip a beat. They were so sweet to one another, and so sweet to her.
“Shall we go somewhere more comfortable? The parlor?”
“Sounds lovely.”
The three walked hand in hand to the parlor with Hermione in the middle. She was buzzing with anticipation as the familiar warmth pooled low in her belly. This night was nothing like she had expected. There was no fear, no worries, no anxieties that swam in her head. She found that she rather liked spending time with Theo and Draco, even when they weren’t buried in her cunt. Though she secretly hoped that would be strong possibility for later tonight.
In the parlor, they sat Hermione in one chair as Theo and Draco sat together on an ottoman, facing her. She swirled her wine glass in her hand before taking a sip, watching the legs drag down the side of the glass.
“Now, what’s this ‘business’ you have to discuss with me?”
Draco and Theo shared a pointed look before Draco cleared his throat and spoke.
“Well, as you know, I’ve been renovating The Manor. And Sunday evening, I was in my father’s old study going through his armoire when I stumbled upon a prophecy he had stored. It was well hidden; he clearly didn’t want it to be found. There was quite a bit of dust on it too, so it must’ve been in there for some time.”
Draco snapped his fingers, summoning the small glass orb from its place in the room. “Hermione, it’s got your name on it.”
He handed the orb to her as her eyes widened, fixed on the small spun glass in her hands.
“It’s got all three of our names on it,” added Theo.
She felt the orb warming in her palms, turning it over in her hands as unbidden flashbacks from the Department of Mysteries flashed in her mind. “What does this mean?”
“We don’t know. We’re not sure how Lucius got it or why he had it. But we thought it was only right that you were here too. So we can find out together.”
A lump formed in her throat as her inner alarm bells screamed warnings at her. She should leave. She could apparate back home and be in her comfortable flat and she could pretend she didn’t know this new information. She could pretend she didn’t care.
Who was she kidding? She had to know. What if something had been missed during the war? What if they were on track for an uprising and only the three of them could stop it? Was there a three-headed dog somewhere that needed tamed? A basilisk that needed slain? Had they missed a horcrux?
Only one way to find out…
Hermione stood with her hand outstretched, holding the orb at arm’s length. Draco grabbed Theo’s hand and stood, placing his free hand on Hermione’s shoulder. He gave her a small nod and she smashed the orb onto the marble floor between them, shattering it into tiny glass fragments.