The Intrusion
Four years have passed since the war, and Narcissa still feels like an outsider in one of these events. In parties like this one, thrown for war heroes and their friends. But technically, she was a friend. Neville Longbottom had made sure to let her know that when he sent the invite, and so did Augusta.
It is a Christmas ball, of all things. And it is also Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Abbott’s engagement party, so it was bound to be grand. And Narcissa had dressed for the same — donning a deep burgundy dress with a high slit. You know, Christmas colors.
A champagne flute dances in her hand as she finds a safe corner to settle in, quiet enough to not draw any attention but not secluded, so that it doesn't show that she wants to disappear off the face of earth.
From that corner, her eyes find Draco. Her son who cannot seem to spend his minutes apart from Harry Potter, and Narcissa’s heart warms. They started seeing each other you see, Draco and Harry. About time.
And she smiles wistfully, because Draco belongs here in a way Narcissa never will. The thought of her loneliness almost makes her sick, makes her dizzy in the head. Or maybe it's just the champagne, but Narcissa Malfoy thinks she will float off and soar through the enchanted sealing and no one would notice.
But then, Für Elise starts playing out of nowhere and it brings her back. The music is so earthy it grounds her. Suddenly, she is a musk deer chasing after the song, and it doesn't take her too long a trip to find it.
In a corner of the hall, Hermione Granger sits before a piano in a lilac cocktail dress, and her fingers seem to float over it. Narcissa stands somewhere in the young witch’s peripheral vision and leans against the wall for support. If she was willing to be less graceful, she would've sat on the floor itself and closed her eyes to the harmony. Instead, she only does the latter and somewhere in the middle, Für Elise changes to Put Your Head On My Shoulder. Yes, Narcissa recognises the song.
When the song ends and she opens her eyes, Hermione’s eyes are on her. Narcissa realizes the young witch did not have much audience, and raises a champagne glass to her, softly, gracefully. She has not decided if it's an invitation for the young witch yet, but Hermione nonetheless takes it as such and walks towards her.
“You play beautifully,” she obliges, but there is not a hint of untruth in those words.
“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Narcissa tries not to flinch at the address, but that is what she is, yes. Not Narcissa, but Mrs. Malfoy.
Hermione is now standing beside her, almost leaning on the wall like she is, and looks on towards the couple of the evening. Narcissa follows her gaze to see the couple dancing to a melody the piano plays by itself. They look… so happy.
“Could never have guessed Neville will be the first of us to become an adult,” Hermione says, and it looks like she isn't thinking much.
In spite of herself, Narcissa laughs. “I'm fairly sure all of you are adults now, Ms. Granger.”
“Yes, but this is different, you know. Marriage, family. It is all so huge and daunting.” The younger witch still speaks with her hands.
“I suppose marriage is always daunting, no matter what your age.” And maybe it is the alcohol that loosens her tongue, because she ends up asking, “So, marriage is not on the table for you anytime soon?”
Hermione almost fumbles over herself, her cheeks washing over with pink. “Merlin, no.” Taking a deep breath, she continues, “I barely have time for love.”
A silence washes over them for a while, but this time around, Narcissa is the inquisitive one.
“I never thanked you… for your testimony at the hearing.”
Hermione shakes her head with a small smile, still looking on towards the couple.
“You do not have to. Besides, I guess you already did, in a way.”
Narcissa furrows her brow at this. Whatever she did after the war could never amount to a proper show of gratitude to Hermione. Sure, she made some charities here and there, and owled Hermione some books for her research—
“Some charities and books, Mrs. Malfoy?” Hermione scoffed, her voice suddenly fiery and a tad bit louder. “You ran out more than half of your fortune for muggle causes and St. Mungo’s, and you are working with Neville to heal his parents. Not to mention, you owled me the exclusive copies of some very rare books from the Black family library! All because Andy had mentioned to you that I was interested in Ancient Wards. You basically grounded my research—”
Narcissa can only blink at Hermione, stunned and dumbfounded. “Ms. Granger, did you just read my thoughts?”
Hermione's eyes widen in surprise and colour flees her face. She hadn't realized, yes, she hadn't realized.
“I'm so sorry Mrs. Malfoy. I swear it just happened, I didn't do it on purpose! It must be the alcohol… I'm just learning and I can't control it yet and—” she rushes through her words faster than Narcissa’s intoxicated mind could catch on to.
Narcissa tries to make sense nonetheless. “So you have started learning legilimency?” A smile finds her lips. She cannot say she is not impressed, Hermione is far too young and not enough time has passed to conquer this level.
Hermione nods guiltily, but with a smile. Narcissa feels the ice around her heart melt.
“Well, accidental intrusions into other people's minds are not uncommon in the learning stage. Even established legilimens have trouble with it. Especially if the other is… thinking loud.” Narcissa pieces together, a little bashful.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione says earnestly. “It's still not okay for me to… intrude like this.”
Narcissa shakes her head. “No, it's not your fault entirely. I've been easy with my occlumency since… well since I don't have to be on guard anymore.”
She can feel her body tensing as images of Hermione on the cold, mahogany floor of Malfoy Manor pass Narcissa by. Hermione's screams stay a little longer in her head; but she has shielded her mind now.
Hermione places a firm hand on her arm. Narcissa is only slightly startled at the touch which brings her back and hollow gray eyes find Hermione's honey brown ones and the world stills. Narcissa is lost.
“You went somewhere…” Hermione says slowly, cautiously… tenderly? Narcissa finds herself again.
“Enough with the legilimency, Ms. Granger.” Narcissa feigns sternness and Hermione's eyes widen again.
“I— Mrs. Malfoy, I didn't—!”
Narcissa breaks into a smile and then a laugh. A soft laugh, and Hermione realizes she was being played. She cannot help but join in, breaking out into a smile as well. A dazzling smile, Narcissa notes.
“That was mean.”
“Well, I'm not a Slytherin for show.” Narcissa is laughing still. "Did you know Beethoven was in Slytherin?"
"No fucking way." Hermione forgets decency. "He was a wizard?!"
They stay there for a while. Or for the rest of the evening, they don't know — talking about Beethoven, ancient wards, mysteries of the mind, potions, and even what animals they'd be if they could be animagi.
If somewhere between those conversations, a mistletoe grows above their heads (and it most certainly does), neither of them mention it.