Brace yourselves for this chapter, everyone. And I highly recommend looking at the comments, which are brilliant.
"Lady Malfoy," Hermione said weakly, expecting the older witch to nod and walk on.
But Narcissa just looked at her, blue eyes weighing and measuring. The elegant witch wore a soft grey cloak and matching gloves and an enormous diamond pin fastened the cloak at her left shoulder. Her eyes were ringed in black and her mouth a perfect red bow.
Hermione's face, on the other hand, had been washed clean by the rain, which had also sent her hair exploding in all directions. Her bare hands were blue with cold and her jeans were wet to the knees.
"Miss Granger. You look in need of some hot tea," Narcissa said. Her words were kind, but the tone was cold. Hermione stuttered a polite objection, but found herself taken by the elbow and whisked into a nearby tea shop in seconds.
The shop's hostess collected their cloaks and Narcissa's umbrella at the door. The tea shop wasn't frilly and romantic like Madame Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade, or bright and bustling like a muggle shop. This place was sumptuous, all sparkling crystal and gold gilt, with oil paintings on the walls and graceful chairs and sofas covered in blue and green brocade. Narcissa selected a tiny table apart from the rest, beneath a large window.
Once they were seated, the older witch removed her gloves and patted her hair, although not a smooth blond strand was out of place. Hermione took a moment to dry her clothes and face with her wand. Her tight hair bun had exploded into a bushy ponytail, and all she could do was gather up the extra tendrils with a red hair ribbon, which she did a bit tremblingly under Narcissa's cold eye.
"A large pot of Magical Merlin and a plate of your pumpkin scones," Narcissa told the waiter. Hermione nodded agreement—not that it mattered anyway—and tried to look pleased to be there.
"I understand you are to be commended," Narcissa said after a short silence. "Theodore Nott is a fine young man."
Hermione said nothing. She certainly wasn't going to thank Narcissa for complimenting her on bagging a pureblood.
"Such a lovely piece in the Prophet," Narcissa continued. "Such stories help promote healing after the war."
Hermione didn't see how headlines screaming "SON OF DEATH EATER" healed anything, but she nodded anyway.
Narcissa's eyebrows rose slightly at her taciturnity. This is your party, honey, Hermione thought. I'll talk when you bring up something worth talking about.
The tea and scones arrived at that moment, giving the two women something to do, at least. Narcissa was certainly right about a cup of hot tea. Hermione downed two cups immediately and felt much better.
"What brings you to Diagon Alley, Lady Malfoy?" she asked, pouring her third cup from the bottomless pot.
"A bit of shopping," Narcissa answered. She was still sipping her first cup of tea and hadn't touched her scone, while Hermione had already eaten two. "Some warm blankets, a knit hat, scarf and gloves, and a few books. Tomorrow is my day to visit Lucius, you see. Perhaps you can suggest a book, Miss Granger."
Hermione's fingers tightened on her teacup, but she managed to set it down on its china saucer without a clink. "What subjects is he interested in, Lady Malfoy?"
"He enjoys history, biographies of famous wizards. His collection of ancient texts is one of the best in Wizarding Britain. He has always had a particular interest in ... ancient runes."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Ah, well. Danbert Donalson just published Volume Six of 'Unraveling the Elder Fubarks'. It's a fine analysis of the typology and graphic variation among the North Sea cultures." She looked down at her teacup. Was she really sitting here brainstorming gift ideas for Lucius Malfoy?
"He will certainly be interested in that. Runes have been a lifelong passion. In fact, until recently, Miss Granger, the Malfoy library held a copy of the Codex Runica."
"The Codex Runica," Hermione repeated, still staring fixedly at the teacup. "That is a significant manuscript."
"Priceless, of course," Narcissa said. "Such precious heirlooms should be protected and properly cared for, yes?"
Yes, and they should be in a museum or another public venue, Hermione thought, looking up again. She kept her mouth shut and dabbed a little more clotted cream on her scone. Clearly, a speech about hoarding cultural treasures wouldn't go over any better with Narcissa than it had with her son.
"That was a lovely photograph of you and dear Theodore in the Prophet," Narcissa said, returning to her original topic. "Your hair looked especially charming."
Hermione froze, the bit of scone raised halfway to her mouth. Fuck all. She knew. Narcissa knew. She'd recognized the diamonds in Hermione's hair from the newspaper. How could she miss them? And Hermione would bet her last knut that Narcissa had personally delivered those very diamonds to her son at Hogwarts after his Quidditch injury. She had probably assumed the set was for Astoria. Ye gods, Malfoy, what have you done?
Hermione sighed and lowered the scone again. There was no sense in hiding it. It was out there now. "Thank you, Lady Malfoy," she said. "I suppose I had your son to thank for that since my curls usually have a mind of their own."
"You can imagine my surprise upon seeing that photograph," Narcissa said icily. "That hairpin was unmistakable. I find it ... mystifying ... that Draco would present you, Miss Granger, with such a gift."
"Perhaps after seven years of insulting my hair, he decided to be part of the solution."
"I do not find this a joking matter, Miss Granger," Narcissa snapped, a spot of red appearing in each cheek. "Draco is betrothed to Miss Astoria Greengrass, and that he would present this particular family heirloom to you beggars the imagination."
The younger witch shrugged. "It was my birthday." Narcissa looked ready to break her in half, so Hermione dropped the light tone. "Lady Malfoy, these are questions best put to your son. I honestly don't know why he gave me something so significant."
"He certainly couldn't have given those diamonds to a more ungrateful recipient," Narcissa said, her cheeks still red. "That jewelry, Miss Granger, is the fabled Gloriana Set from the 1500s, resized for modern use. That you would wear it to dinner with another man is a most grievous insult."
"I didn't mean to insult anyone, Lady Malfoy," Hermione answered earnestly. "I know it was foolish of me to wear those diamonds that night. I sincerely apologize. I wore them out of vanity and spite, and I regret doing so."
Narcissa blinked at the ready apology, but she was not appeased. "I simply don't understand, Miss Granger."
"I don't either," Hermione said frankly. "Again, you'll have to ask Malfoy. I had no idea at the time that he'd given me a family heirloom, let alone one with such an ... er ... history."
"But now you know what this gift signifies and why your possession of it is deplorable—an affront to the proprieties."
Merlin's fucking balls, the bitch wants the jewels back, Hermione thought, mouth hanging open slightly. She clutched the beaded bag against her hip a little more tightly, hoping it could repel an accio spell. Surely Narcissa didn't know she had the diamonds with her now. "Then it must be on your person, Granger."
Narcissa's cold voice brought her back to her surroundings. "I will forgive your fault in accepting such a gift, since it was through ignorance of our ways," she said magnanimously. "But this state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue."
"My only fault, Lady Malfoy, was wearing that jewelry to dinner with Theo, and I again apologize for that," Hermione said, frowning. "The gift itself I consider nothing more than the careless, extravagant gesture of a rich noble with a guilty conscience."
"I do not agree with that assessment," Narcissa said.
"Oh? You see no reason for guilt or remorse?" Hermione asked. "Your son may not have killed anyone ..." Narcissa flinched, "... but he has caused enormous pain and suffering, and has insulted and persecuted me and my friends for years."
She met Narcissa's gaze unwaveringly. "Words have power, as you well know, Lady Malfoy, since you are so quick to describe my actions as deplorable and ignorant."
"My son is a gentleman, and you—"
"Oh, is he, now? Multiple times in my dealings with Malfoy this term I have had to draw my wand." Hermione grinned suddenly. "And trust me when I tell you, you do not want to know the circumstances."
Her implication was clear, and the blood drained from Narcissa's face, but she was made of stern stuff. "Obviously the two of you have a complicated relationship ..."
Hermione snorted at that, earning a slight glare from her companion that was much like Malfoy's.
"But surely you understand that the Gloriana Set is part of the Malfoy legacy and belongs with our family." Narcissa's voice was cool again; she obviously felt on firm ground here. "I must insist on the jewelry's return to us this very day."
Hermione poured herself another cup of tea and leaned back in her armchair, just sipping and watching the rain spatter against the window. She needed time to consider, and like her son, Narcissa seemed inclined to let her have it. The tea shop's server, seeing a temporary cessation in hostilities, took the opportunity to whisk away the uneaten scones and bring more sugar cubes and milk before running for his life.
The interruption gave Hermione additional time to ponder, which she desperately needed. It was a tempting thought, to simply pull the flat velvet box out of her bag and hand it over. Malfoy had obviously made a huge mistake giving her those jewels, and returning them would help rectify the error. But really, it wasn't her job to clean up Malfoy's messes any more than it was her job to pander to Theo's ego or instruct Ron on what to do with his life. They were all grown men, after all, even when they didn't act like it.
Hermione added another dollop of milk to her tea and stirred it absently. But perhaps she should take the high road here if Malfoy was too pig-headed to do so. Perhaps it was the right thing to give back this Gloriana Set. It wasn't like she would ever wear it again.
She opened her mouth to say the words: "Certainly I will return the jewelry, Lady Malfoy." Narcissa looked confident enough, sipping her own tea with a faintly smug air. Hermione could practically read her thoughts: Narcissa had presented her case with unassailable logic, surely even a commoner like Hermione Granger had the wit to see the only appropriate choice. Come, young lady, show a little class for a Mudblood. Don't try to ape your betters.
"Why do you think he gave me those diamonds, Lady Malfoy?" Hermione asked, tilting her head slightly.
Narcissa froze in the act of drinking, her blue eyes sharp over the teacup's gilt rim.
"I don't pretend to know him well—he's your son, after all," Hermione went on. "Why would a pureblood noble, steeped in your traditional Malfoy customs, do something so ... unconventional?"
Narcissa's expression was poisonous. "Apparently, your company has caused him to temporarily forget his duty to his family, his betrothed and to himself."
"Hermione Granger, seductress," she said chuckling. "Another headline for The Daily Prophet." She leaned forward and set down her own cup. She had made her decision and she was done with playing games. She had a three-foot Charms essay to write and a certain blond Slytherin to yell at and it was time to end this and head back to the castle. She sat up straight and clasped her hands before her on the table.
"Here's the thing, Lady Malfoy," Hermione said in her best lecturing tone. "Despite your efforts to infantilize him, Draco Malfoy is not some wayward heir. When Lucius Malfoy was deservedly sentenced to life in Azkaban, his rights to hold property and legally control assets were revoked. Draco Malfoy is of age and now the head of your family. He holds the Malfoy ring."
Narcissa looked too incensed to speak; clearly, she didn't enjoy being instructed on family inheritance laws by a muggle-born slip of a girl. She even gave another small wince at Hermione's mention of the ring; perhaps she knew why her son refused to wear it. Hermione rolled on, holding up fingers to emphasize her points.
"Draco Malfoy didn't steal those jewels from the family vaults," Hermione continued in her best know-it-all tone. "He owns those jewels; they are his to do with as he pleases. Perhaps he didn't bother to consider the ramifications; perhaps it was a reckless thing to do. But he was fully within his rights to ask you to bring those jewels to him, and fully within his rights to give them to me, for whatever reason."
Narcissa's eyes were burning slits. "Within his rights?" she choked. "Draco is betrothed to Miss Greengrass!"
"Is he now?" Hermione asked. A certain idea, simmering in the back of her mind since her visit to Borgin and Burkes, now blazed forth. "I've made it my business to learn about those jewels from an independent source. I understand that this Gloriana Set has traditionally been what's called an 'interest gift' in the Malfoy family. Once presented to a witch and accepted, these jewels are bound to the giver and recipient. That is correct, isn't it?"
Narcissa gathered herself and gave a reluctant nod.
Hermione smiled. "Now, Lady Malfoy. Would such a powerful, magical set of jewelry allow itself to be bound to me if he was betrothed to another?" She raised her eyebrows. "Hmmm?"
The older witch stared at Hermione so long that she became nervous. Was Narcissa going to have a stroke? How would she explain that to Malfoy?
"No," Narcissa said decidedly. "It can't be true. You can't be bound to the set."
"Oh yes, I can," Hermione said, a glint in her eye. "I thought there was something strange about those jewels. Other men have touched them and come away with cuts and scratches, but not Draco." Hermione drew out his name, much like Astoria did, and Narcissa's blue eyes flashed with anger.
"So you are determined to marry Draco then," she bit out. "This business with young Theodore is just a ruse."
"Merlin, no," Hermione said. "I have no plans to marry your son. We'd probably kill each other within a month. I have no plans to marry Theo, either. Muggles typically marry much later than witches and wizards." She returned to her earlier pedantic tone. "I'm simply saying that your son was completely free to give this jewelry to somebody besides Astoria."
"Completely free ..." Those words seemed to echo in the air. If nothing else, Hermione's visit to Borgin's shop had proven Ginny correct: Malfoy and Astoria were not betrothed. The thought swept through Hermione's mind like a fresh breeze gusting through suddenly open windows. She stood, almost knocking her teacup off the table. She couldn't sit here anymore, she had to move, run, jump, something ...
"I'm not giving you the Gloriana Set, Lady Malfoy. Draco wouldn't like it," she said, smiling down at the astounded witch. "If he personally asks me to return the jewels to him, then, of course, I will comply. Until then, I consider the diamonds merely a thoughtful birthday gift. Thank you for the tea—I really think your husband will enjoy the Elder Fubarks book."
Hermione managed to walk out of the tea shop without hurrying, accepting her cloak from the hostess and clutching her beaded bag to her chest. Once outside the shop, she immediately twirled on one foot and Apparated to Hogsmeade. She couldn't get away fast enough. Not that she was scared or anything; she just had a Transfiguration essay due in ten days with only a first draft finished.
Once in Hogsmeade, she wrapped her sodden cloak around her and followed the passageway to Hogwarts, wishing for nothing more than a warm bath and a shot of firewhiskey. Maybe two shots. Merlin, Malfoy, she thought as she trudged, why didn't you just give me a book pin? One thing was for sure—never again would Hermione complain that a birthday gift was too impersonal.
Notes:
Whew! Tense. And now we know for sure where the title came from! Writing that scene practically gave me heart palpitations.