The last time I had visited the ancient house, I had been a prisoner. I had been taken hostage, tortured, taken advantage of, treated horrendously. I couldn't believe I had accepted to attend a gathering at their home, but this time, as a guest.
I gazed up at the facade of the building. It was dark and imposing as ever, but there were fairy lights decorating the edge of the roof, around the windows. Large wreaths adorned the front doors, tinsel shimmering along the main gate. My grip on my escort's arm tightened. The churning in my belly had returned, I felt sick.
He turned to me, slipping a finger beneath my chin, lifting my face so that it was level with his. "We don't have to go in. I can take you back if that is what you desire."
I shook my head quickly. "They are your family." He gave me a look that would have once terrified me, so I quickly continued. "They were the only people you had for so long. I couldn't possibly take that away from you."
He sighed, pulling me into his embrace, kissing me deeply. I felt a smile grace his face as he pressed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, he tucked away a curl that had unsurprisingly escaped. "You're insufferably stubborn." I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. "You know that?"
I pecked the underneath of his jaw. "So you keep telling me." I walked my fingers up his chest, tugging on his starched collar. I gripped his cravat tightly in my fist, yanking it towards me, him along with it. "You love it."
He groaned, leaning in to nip at my ear. I pushed him away playfully, tucking his shirt back in properly. "You drive me mad, witch."
I giggled, kissing his cheek. "Is that so?"
He rolled his eyes and nudged me toward the door. "We should go in before I change my mind..."
"If you so wish."
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in close, before pushing open the large door.
Nothing could have prepared me for the number of people present in the Malfoy's home. There were witches and wizards of all sorts and backgrounds pouring out of every room. The living room was overflowing with partygoers, the entrance hall laced with dignitaries and ministry officials from different countries. I exhaled slowly, calm settling in my body. No one would risk attacking me here. There were too many people. Too many possible witnesses.
I relaxed into Severus' side, leaning into him. He sneaked a peek at me, something sparkling in his eyes. He leaned down to my ear, pressing his lips just beneath it, pulling me a little closer. He pulled me into the throng of people, expertly navigating his way among the crowd, diverting the other guests from his path. He walked surely and confidently, keeping a sure arm around me.
Curious eyes were glued on me, different people trying to place me, figure out who I was and what I was doing there. Honestly, I think I was trying to figure it out as much as they were. We slipped into a study, the scent of candles thick. We came face to face with the house's patron sitting in an armchair, surrounded by a bevvy of attractive women.
We stood before the older man in question, the professor cleared his throat. The blonde looked up and grinned, standing with open arms. "Severus, my old friend! It's been so long."
The men shook hands, exchanging quiet conversation. "You never will change, will you?" Snape scoffed, gesturing to the considerably younger women draped all over his chair. "Your behaviour makes me want to commiserate with your wife."
The man of the house made a face. "Narcissa? She doesn't care. Our entire marriage was one of convenience. Besides," He said, grabbing one of the girl's hands and pulling her to him. She giggled, pressing herself up against him. "It's my birthday. We have an agreement that we turn away from each other for the day to let the other do as they please."
The man next to me gave me a look. I told you so. His features seemed to say. I tried to hold back my smile, biting my lip in the process. Noticing my change in stance, Malfoy pushed aside the lady in his arms and took my hand, resting his lips on my knuckles. "And who, my friend," he purred. "Might this gorgeous specimen be."
I raised an eyebrow, a nasty habit I now so frequently indulged in. Surely, I didn't look that different. Then again, never before had I worn tailored robes and dresses that complimented my figure, never had my hair been so cooperative, never would I have seen myself standing at Severus' side.
I sensed his temper flare at the sight of someone else touching me. My heart sped up momentarily at the thought, his arm tightened against my waist, fingers sliding across the lace of my dress. I shivered at the sensation, a smug look came across his face, our host caught on and let go of me quickly. "Lucius, this is my apprentice." A glimmer of confusion danced across his face as he released my fingers. "Hermione, darling, certainly you remember Mr Malfoy."
I offered the Malfoy patron a shy smile. "Sir." I acknowledged, dipping my head gracefully.
His eyes widened in shock. "Miss Granger..? It can't possibly..." Severus glared at him. "You look well, my dear."
After a few more words, we left the study, Malfoy guiding us through his home. He stopped along the way to greet people and welcome their birthday wishes, all the while keeping an eye out. he turned to the man following him. "Severus, there are people here who are eager to make your aquaintance."
The dark wizard raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Is that so?"
Lucius' face split into a large smile as he approached the group he had been looking for. Two very tall, very slim, extremely attractive wizards and an equal amount of gorgeous women stood in a cluster, slightly separated from the rest of the invitees. One of the witches came toward the host and kissed both his cheeks, a quiet smile painting her features. "Lucius, how wonderful to see you again after all these years."
The way she pronounced his name gave me the heebiejeebies. She enunciated all the 'ss' sounds, drawing them out like the darkest wizard of our time once had. I didn't like it at all. Severus scoffed at the sight of the four, pulling me nearer still.
The man of the house greeted the other three and stepped away to speak. "I certainly agree, Ilaria. It's been ages. The war was difficult for many." He turned to his friend. "Severus, these are my cousins from Norway. This is Mia, Haldan, and Ilaria. This is Everard, a relative from Liechtenstein."
Three of the four had ashy blonde hair, pale as the Malfoy family themselves. I suppose it must be a family gene passed on for generations. They were very well groomed and dressed, there appearance picturesque. It was obvious they were siblings. The man named Everard had dark brown shoulder length hair and equally dark facial hair that decorated his face in an attractive manner. While the three from Norway had snow white skin, Everard had a slightly darker tone, but not enough to say it was entirely different.
One thing caught my attention. It was unnerving to say the least. It should have been the first thing I noticed. They all the the very same eye colour, the same icy grey as the Malfoys, even the odd one out had matching eyes. I didn't realise I had been introduced by my partner, he nudged my shoulder. I snapped out of my reverie, paying attention to the conversation.
I smiled, shaking their hands. Haldan seemed very interested in my relation to Severus and the Malfoys, seeing as I was Muggleborn. He hadn't meant to be rude, he was merely curious, but the man by my side was quickly losing his temper. I lifted my hand, sliding it up his back, smoothing the back of his coat, trying to calm him.
I learned quickly enough that Everard and Ilaria were married. Like most of the Malfoy family, it was an arranged marriage organised by their parents. The same went for Mia and Haldan, as I later discovered. As it turned out, Haldan was not the brother of the two blonde sisters. He was another cousin. To keep the bloodline pure, Malfoy patrons had married off their daughters to their brother's sons.
My stomach churned. Hadn't we just fought in a war for that reason? To put all that nonsense aside?
I knew the Malfoy clan was old-fashioned, but this was ridiculous. Apparently they'd been betrothed since their birth. Without prying too much, I asked a few questions about their lineage and how come they so closely resembled one another except the Liechtensteiner, who appeared to be such a contrast to the rest. In the end, I learned that his mother was from the Prince family who had come from the Rosiers who had in turn come from the Black family.
Pureblood politics were so confusing at times. It still boggled my mind to remember most Purebloods, and Half-bloods even, were somehow somewhat closely related. I recall being pulled away by my mentor and led further into the manor, away from the throng.
He stopped in a corner, leaning down to meet my eyes. "Are you alright?"
Something flashed in his eyes. He was worried. I nodded quickly, not wanting to damper his mood. I didn't want him to worry for me. "Quite." He didn't seem convinced. "I was just trying to wrap my head around the logic of marrying off your children to your brothers' sons. It's very strange."
He shrugged, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. "In the wizarding world, it is customary. Tradition. It's the way things have been done for centuries. It isn't as practiced in recent years as it once was. For example, my godson has been betrothed to one of the Greengrass girls since he was only three years of age."
My heart sank. "He won't be able to marry the person he loves."
Severus nodded. "That hasn't stopped Lucius. I don't see why it would stop his offspring from doing the same." He drifted off. "Speak of the devil..."
I followed his gaze, my eyes landed on Ella sitting on the host's knee, playing with his hair, a small blonde child in her lap, fiddling with the sequins on her pale pink dress. I felt my face scrunch, slipping my fingers between the man's whose temper was flaring, his jaw clenched, knuckles white. "Severus..." I called. He didn't hear me. He was lost in some deep, dark fury. I didn't blame him. Were I in his place, I would have been in the same state. "Severus, please, come back to me."
His eyes closed slowly, a heavy breath exhaled. Bit by bit he was returning to the present moment. He looked down at me, pressing his lips to my temple. "What would I do without you?" He asked, breathing in the smell of my hair.
I shivered involuntarily. "I'd rather not think about that."I replied.
He chuckled, his ebony eyes sparkling. My heart did backflips at the sight. Merlin, I loved him.
Our little moment was cut short by a little boy with honey blonde hair and hazel eyes, tugging on my spare hand. I smiled, remembering how Cassy Canary had done the same in September. My life had been so different then, yet exactly the same. I kneeled before the boy, pushing stray curls from his face. "Hello." I said softly.
He offered me a huge grin, showing off the gaps of his lost teeth and the youthful sparkle in his eyes. "Hello, you look very pretty. Are you a fairy princess?"
I giggled, looking up at the Potions' professor. "Why thank you. Do you really think I look like a fairy princesss?"
He nodded quickly, his curls bobbing up and down. "My sisters love fairy princesses. Auntie Camille reads about them to us nearly every night. My favourite is the one where she is saved by the wise wizard. Everyone thinks it's going to be the Prince, but it ends up being a man who's name is Prince."
My smile grew. How peculiar... "That's very exciting. Say, what's your name, young man?"
He stuck out his hand for me to shake, then offered it to Severus. "I'm Monty." He pointed to the boy in Ella's lap. "That's my brother Carlisle. My sisters are with Auntie. Would you like to meet them?"
I met the man's eyes. It was up to him. He nodded discretely, he wanted to meet the children. I told the boy so and he took Severus' hand, pulling him forward through the crowd, leading us up the stairs and through a pair of double doors into a gigantic library. Inside, there was a woman a few years my escort's senior sittig in a comfy armchair, surrounded by three little girls. She was reading them a story from the Tales of Beadle the Bard. From what I heard, she was telling the story of Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump.
"Auntie, look who I found! It's a real life fairy princess!" Monty exclaimed excitedly, letting to of our hands and running over to his siblings.
The woman looked up and met the eyes of her former brother-in-law. Her happy expression turned sad. She stood to greet him, pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks. "Severus, I didn't think I'd see you again after what happened."
He waved off her comment, focusing his attention on me, but still speaking to the older witch. "Nonsense, Camille. You couldn't possibly expect that while maintaining such a close relationship with the Malfoys." His tone was light, but the darkness behind his words was slowly creeping into his voice.
The woman looked confused. "Have not been made aware? Eloise has behaved terribly these past few years. I thought you'd be, well, angrier with them."
The man in black shrugged. "People change. Not Ella, of course. But, a temper can be worked on. I can't change what happened. If it hadn't, I wouldn't have realised how much I appreciate this beautiful creature that has weasled her way into my life."
I couldn't help the blush that spread across my face. I leaned into his shoulder, hiding, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of the other. A warm smile lit her face, taking away the sadness that had occupied it earlier. "Ah yes, you must be that little witch they keep mentioning in the papers." I bit my lip, reaching out to shake her hand. "Should my sister give you any trouble, ignore her. She likes drama, always has. Anything to cause a fuss."
I turned to the 4 children who had come up to stand around me, admiring my dress, my hair, my makeup. "Monty says you're a real fairy princess. I think you should prove it." One of the girls said haughtily.
I couldn't help the smile that spread across my lips. The little munchkin was about 6 years old and had an attitude just like her mother based on what I'd been witness to these past few months.
Another of the girls handed me a whimpering Mavis who calmed as soon as she lay against my chest, resting her ear to my heart, rapidly dozing off. The girly who'd handed me Mavis stared in awe. "You really are a fairy princess. Mavis is always upset, no one can get her to calm down. Not even mama."
The eldest of the girls rolled her eyes. "I think you mean especially not mama."
Camille gasped. "Estelle, mind your tone. You are not to speak that way of your mother. You should be grateful toward her for all she has given you."
Estelle sneered. "She's never around. She treats us like we don't exist. She only likes Waverly, Mavis and Carlisle. Besides, you're the one who's raised us. You are a far better mum."
I met Severus' eyes. He dipped his head in agreement. The girl had a solid argument. Deciding to try to lighten the tension, I changed the subject. "Say, I don't think I know you all. My name is Hermione, I work at Hogwarts." I turned to the man next to me. "This is Professor Snape, he works at the school too."
Camille nudged the kids to come up to us to present themselves, one by one they told us their name and their age, followed by their favourite colour. It was fun.
"I'm Monty, I'm 8 years old and I love the colour purple."
The girl who'd handed me the baby approached nervously. "I'm Pru, I'm 4 and I like red."
"As you now know, my name is Estelle." she stated, fiddling with her fingers. "I'm 10, I like teal."
"I'm Laurel and I'm 5 1/2! I like pink." She put her hands on her hips. "I wanted to wear a pretty pink dress tonight, but mama said no because she wanted to wear pink even though it's my colour and I called dibs."
Severus laughed lightly at her exclamation. I knew he was thinking of how Ella was back in her school days. Camille returned his smile, something quiet had been exchanged between them. "The last little one is downstairs. His name is Carlisle and he likes orange."
Ella was not at all a kind person. At least not to me, and by the looks of it, not to her 5 other children either. Camille seemed to read my thoughts, pick them straight from my brain. "She has a good heart, really. You ought not let your first impressions of her sway you, Miss Granger. She is gentle."
"Was."
Camille frowned, turning to the voice who'd spoken. "I beg your pardon?"
"I was gentle with a good heart. Was. Not anymore. Not since I lost my husband."