A/N- I finally decided on a name! Honestly, does anyone else have the hardest time choosing a name and making a write up?! I think it's harder than writing the actual story haha, anyway, I just wanted to make a quick note that there is non-con in this story (not this chapter, but soon enough) and the story itself contains quite a few flashbacks. The flashbacks are written in italics. Also, Harry and Ron aren't the best people alive in this story, but they aren't AWFUL either - just so everyone is aware now!
I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter One
"You can't be serious!?" Hermione Granger exclaimed loudly in the office of the Minister of Magic – Kingsley Shacklebolt.
Her wide brown eyes fled to her two friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were Aurors with upstanding reputations, even though Ron sometimes took flak because everyone assumed he had only received the position because of his famous friend who had defeated Lord Voldemort a few years previously.
"There's no way you're being serious," she said, a relieved giggle escaping her lips, "That was a good one, guys."
Hermione stood and gathered her purse and jacket into her arms, chuckling under her breath while her friends watched her closely, somewhat confused.
"Sit down, please, Miss. Granger. We aren't done here."
Hermione stilled her movements and turned back to the Minister, fear dilating her pupils momentarily.
"You are being serious?"
"Do I look like someone who would joke about the murders that have been taking place?" the Minister asked in his smooth, deep voice "Never mind the direct threats that you've received."
Hermione sighed and dropped herself into the chair she had vacated moments before, her wild eyes landing on her closest friends, "You agree with this plan, then?"
"It was my idea, Hermione," Harry stated boldly while Ron sat back and chewed on his cheek. He had seemed incredibly tense lately, especially with Hermione, and she desperately hoped that it was because of this plan.
"Even if I agreed with this ridiculous idea, I highly doubt that they would agree to have me in their house."
"They already have. You're to arrive tonight, actually."
Hermione's eyes widened even more for a moment, shocked by that statement. She honestly didn't think Draco Malfoy would ever want to see her again, not after everything that had happened between them.
"Tonight?! This doesn't even make any sense," she exclaimed, lifting a slightly shaking hand to cover her eyes.
"It does, Hermione. All high profile muggleborns are being placed into safe houses until we can figure this out. The fact that you've already started receiving letters makes it even more urgent. No one in their right mind would ever expect to find you living at Malfoy Manor, and since they're still trying to prove themselves to society, prove that they don't feel the same way Lucius felt, they have agreed to let you stay with them for however long this takes."
"There has to be something else we can do," she said desperately, she highly doubted that Malfoy was ready to bury the hatchet.
Or ever would be, for that matter.
"Would you prefer to stay in a hotel with barely any security measures? In a small room that you wouldn't be able to leave until Godric knows, because we have no information on this killer at all? You would not be able to leave the room for anything, Hermione, and that's not saying that you wouldn't be found within days; that's not something I'm willing to risk."
Ron frowned at Harry's words but kept his mouth shut, apparently preferring to not weigh in on this matter.
"I just don't know why I can't stay with one of you."
Ron scoffed and finally opened his mouth, "Really Hermione? You don't think that we're the first conclusion people are going to jump to once they realize you're in hiding?"
"Well, probably, but-"
"There are no 'buts', Hermione! You have been threatened on more than one occasion with the exact same letters that have been found in the victims' possession."
"You're Aurors!" she burst out suddenly, "Surely you would be able to ensure my safety!"
"No, Hermione. We're working this case and won't be around on a regular enough basis; there will always be someone around at the Manor. When Draco's at work Narcissa will be home and she knows that if she wants to go out and do something it either has to be in the evening or on weekends. Add in the fact that the ministry in general has no sodding idea who the killer is… well, that just makes everything more complicated."
"Then how do you know I'll be safe at Malfoy Manor? What if one of them is the murderer?" she spit the words out harshly, her eyes darkened with anger even though she didn't believe her own words for a second.
"We have had many meetings with the remaining members of the Malfoy Family and have questioned them and their elves separately with Veritaserum. They want to do this…"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry because he wasn't sounding all that convincing.
"Really, Harry? Draco Malfoy is jumping for joy that I'm going to be living with him for an extended period of time?"
"Draco isn't extremely excited about it but he has taken a vow to ensure your safety and keep his eye on you."
"And Narcissa?" she asked weakly, knowing that regardless of the answer she would be going to live at Malfoy Manor for an undetermined amount of time.
"Narcissa is thrilled, Hermione," Kingsley said in his calming voice, "She's been wanting a female around for ages, apparently, and since Draco doesn't even have a girlfriend she's really looking forward to having you there."
Was the world going fucking insane?!
"Harry," she said sadly, giving her friend one more pleading look. He didn't even understand the can of worms he was opening with this ludicrous plan. He had no idea.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but this is the only way."
She dropped her eyes to her lap sadly, watching her fingers twist around each other in anxiety.
"I suggest you go pack, Miss. Granger."
Hermione took a deep breath and picked up her belongings from the floor before walking on slightly numb legs to the door, not sparing a glance at any of her friends. She almost held her breath for the entire walk to the floo stations, trying to keep her composure and smiling at all the people who glanced her way as she walked by. Her smile faltered a few times as she remembered that any one of these people could be sending her terribly degrading letters, could be out there planning their next attack on the muggleborns of their world.
For the first time since their deaths, Hermione was almost happy that her parents weren't around to witness the fear and deterioration of her world once again.
She was a fool to think that things would change once Voldemort was gone. There would always be prejudice in their world, but at least her parents wouldn't die at the hands of a psychotic killer.
They'd died in a car crash three years previously.
/
Hermione threw a lone shoe in the direction of one of the boxes she was packing, still completely brassed off that she was about to be living at Malfoy Manor. The thought alone was ridiculous and she was furious that her friends hadn't even stood behind her; had actually volunteered her to this insane plan.
Although, her inner voice said fairly, they really don't understand the history because they've never been informed.
She batted her conscience away and decided that she shouldn't have been surprised that her friends were shipping her off – the relationship between the three of them had been tense at best since Harry's stunt a month previously.
"I think I've made a mistake, Hermione," Harry said, moving forward as she backed away. Once her back touched the wall Harry put his fists on either side of her shoulders, effectively trapping her.
"A mistake?" she asked, her voice trembling a little bit in slight fear from the look in his eyes. A look that she had seen before, just not on him.
"Yes. I don't think it's fair that I married Ginny when I feel this way about someone else."
"What are you talking about, Harry?" Hermione asked lightly, trying to pass it off as a joke and get him to move away from her with a gentle push on his chest. She had seen him watching her for the last couple years, closer than he should have been considering he was married and they were only friends; she had honestly never expected him to act on anything and had really been hoping that he wouldn't. She didn't feel anything other than friendship toward Harry or Ron and she was always hoping to avoid the complications that would arise if either man tried to take it somewhere farther.
He didn't budge.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione inquired, trying to nudge his senses so he'd remember they weren't alone here and that this entire situation was extremely inappropriate.
"Around here somewhere," Harry answered vaguely, and before Hermione could even blink Harry had his lips pressed to hers tight enough to bruise. His hands had moved from the wall and were both under her shirt immediately, lifting the fabric so his hands could run along her smooth skin. Harry groaned aloud at the contact while Hermione grabbed his shoulders with her hands and pushed him away roughly.
"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, but it didn't deter him and he rushed back at her, picking up exactly where he had left off. Hermione started writhing her body to try and squirm away from him, but the wall behind her was impeding her progress and Harry was holding both of her wrists in one hand above her head while the other was caressing one of her breasts under her bra.
He was groaning again, and Hermione stilled in horror when he ground his pelvis into her stomach, clearly aroused.
She had to stop this.
She whipped her head around again to try and break contact of their lips, and this time she was successful.
"Get off of me!" she all but screamed, and he was so surprised that his hand loosened on her wrists, which she wrenched out of his hands before shoving him away from her.
"Hermione," he whispered, looking embarrassed but not sorry.
"Go home to your wife," she said angrily, unnerved about what had just occurred.
Hermione let out a huff of frustration and then stopped completely and went still when she heard a small noise coming from her tiny living room.
She dropped the sundress she was holding up into another box and crept on silent feet toward the living area, her hand clamped tightly around her wand. Hermione stopped at the junction of the door and peeked around the wall a little bit, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest and blood rushing through her ears.
That was when she saw the letter that had been pushed beneath her door.
She approached it slowly and considered just leaving it on the floor, but she was always a curious being and that's why she bent low at the waist and snatched it up, straightening quickly and looking around self-consciously.
Hermione let out a puff of air as she slit the envelope open with her wand, pulling out a solitary sheet of paper as something fluttered to the floor, making her jump slightly.
She glanced at the item on the floor but unfolded the parchment in her hand hastily, ready to just get it over with.
The parchment was covered with the same derogatory things she had been receiving for over a month now; and she found herself wishing she had just kept her mouth shut and hadn't said anything to Harry and Ron at all. Then she would at least be able to stay in her own apartment and far away from the Malfoy family.
"I can't wait until you're dying beneath me; feeling my knife in your ribs as you pant out your final breaths," she read.
That was the last line of the letter.
He never signed the notes and always ended them about her death, but that didn't stop the chill that stole its way up her spine. She took a deep breath and looked back to the floor where a photograph was laying.
Well that was new.
She picked it up carefully and immediately dropped it again in shock.
It was a moving photograph of herself, not a long loop, but it was still one of the most disturbing things she had ever laid eyes on. In the photo she moved into her bedroom, pulling her shirt over her head and tapping a finger against her lips with deep concentration before she became aware of her surroundings and moved to her window in her bra, clasping onto her curtains and pulling them closed.
She knew by the clothes that the photo had been taken the night before; she had been wondering what exactly the Minister and her friends needed to see her about.
Her stomach rolled slightly and she picked up the photo again, clenching it in her fist before she took a paranoid look around her flat. All of her curtains were closed, thank Merlin.
She jumped about a mile and let out a little shriek as her floo activated and Harry stepped out, followed closely by Ron. She quickly thrust the note and the photo into the pocket of her jeans, deciding that they didn't need to be made aware of them at the moment, since they were shipping her off anyway.
Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron just stood there watching her.
"Everything alright?" Harry asked, entering her space and touching her arms.
She backed out of his grasp slowly, uncomfortable with his touches now. She was not a home wrecker, and she genuinely liked Ginny Weasley and wanted the girl to be happy. She was reminded of what had happened every time she saw Harry and she was ashamed of herself almost as much as she was disgusted by him. To make things worse he continued to make advances on her, which was completely wrong, on both of their parts, but she had no idea how to get him to back off without ruining their friendship completely.
"Well I'm packing up all of my possessions to go to a house that I was tortured in with people who hate my very existence. Everything is just bloody peachy."
"It's for your own good, Hermione," Ron said quietly, avoiding her eyes and trying his hardest to not look at Harry either.
Her mind instantly went to the photo of herself she had just received and she clamped her lips shut.
"I know," she said after a few moments, turning away and going back to her bedroom to finish packing.
"Almost done?" Harry asked from directly behind her, startling her slightly.
"Almost," she breathed, moving away and tossing the last few things in her bedroom into her boxes.
Harry cast a lightweight charm and stacked a couple after staring at her with a beseeching look for a few seconds; he headed toward the fireplace without a word and called out his destination. He stepped into the roaring green flames and Ron hurried into the bedroom to pick up the handle of her trunk and the last box before ushering her forward.
"Let's go, Hermione," Ron snapped after she dawdled around for a few moments; she had the distinct feeling that he didn't want to be alone with her at all. She was sad to be leaving her own space and even more morose to realize that she had so little in her life it could be crammed into three large boxes and one trunk.
She blinked the tears out of her vision and stepped forward with a straight back, taking a small handful of floo powder and shouting, "Malfoy Manor," before green flames engulfed her and she whipped out of sight.
/
Awkward wasn't even the right word for it. The air was heavy with tension and Hermione couldn't help but to fiddle with the edges of her sleeves with her fingers, waiting for Harry to finish talking to Draco Malfoy and his mother, Narcissa.
Draco kept glancing over at her with a strange look on his face and Hermione felt like she couldn't even make eye contact with him. It was too much. Their past was too much and she could clearly remember the day they had parted ways for good.
Draco seemed to be thinking the same way because he suddenly looked angry, looked like he could quite easily storm forward and strangle the life from her; something that wasn't exactly comforting considering she was to be sharing a home with him. Narcissa, who was tall, slim, and ridiculously fair and beautiful considering she had to be in her forties at the very least, kept shooting her curious, covert side-glances.
She at least seemed moderately friendly.
This was clearly an awful idea and she was just standing there like some young teenager being brought to a new home, new parents; she was staring at the floor fiddling restlessly and chewing her bottom lip.
She looked at Harry once more in pure desperation and the entire group were standing still, watching her expectantly.
She cleared her throat and accidentally made eye contact with Draco, who still looked unhappy, and maybe even a little bit hurt.
"I just want to thank you for graciously allowing me to stay here until it's safe for me to be in the public again," Hermione stated calmly, proud that she couldn't hear a shake in her voice, giving away her nerves, but she faltered when Draco scoffed before abruptly standing and leaving the room completely.
"You're very welcome, dear," Narcissa offered, before calling for an elf named Mugsy to collect Hermione's things to take them to her new room.
"Everyone remember the rules?" Harry asked, clearly deciding to ignore Draco's behaviour outright.
"No contact with the outside world," Hermione said quietly, and Narcissa nodded and added, "No one is to know she's here and her safety is our top priority."
"We'll visit you as much as we can Hermione, but I have a feeling it isn't going to be very often," Harry said moving closer to her while Ron watched him with slightly narrowed eyes.
She smiled weakly in their general direction but didn't want to make eye contact in case her tears made themselves clear. Despite the awkwardness between them right now they were still her best friends, her only friends.
Really the only people she had in her life.
Hermione took a deep breath and willed the tears down, "Of course, guys. I'll see you soon."
Harry faltered for a moment, aware that she was being much too cheerful for the situation but he knew that she was trying her best to stay strong. He pulled her into his arms despite her resistance and crushed her to his chest.
He held on a little too long and when Ron came in for his hug he didn't look overly thrilled.
"We love you," Harry stated, his emerald eyes holding her brown ones for a few moments before she smiled again and said, "I love you guys too, be safe."
She stood back and watched them enter the fireplace; they were gone the next moment. Hermione closed her eyes and willed herself to be strong for the months that were to come.
"Let's get dressed for dinner, shall we?" Narcissa said cheerfully, "I'll show you to your room, dear."
Hermione smiled weakly and followed Narcissa from the room. She was led through many halls and even up a grand staircase split in the middle, each curve heading to a different direction of the manor.
"Your rooms are closer to Draco's than they are mine," Narcissa was saying as she hurried down a hallway away from the staircase, "You're actually in his wing, but we thought you would be better off down here than anywhere near my rooms, and just the thought of having you off in a remote part of the house made me uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable?" Hermione asked, a little bit confused about that.
"While the house is warded, wards are breakable, unfortunately. Having you in Draco's wing of the house will help me sleep better at night. The grounds are also warded, so as long as you have company going outside shouldn't be a problem; I need you to promise me that you won't go wandering around on your own, though. It just wouldn't be safe."
"Of course," Hermione stated, feeling nervous about being kept anywhere near Draco. She could probably do a better job fending off the serial killer, at this point in her life.
"Here we are, dear," Narcissa said, throwing open two large doors to a large bedroom that was probably the size of the kitchen and living area alone in Hermione's old flat.
"This is all for me?"
Narcissa gave a small chuckle and Hermione followed her into the bedroom. It was welcoming, more so than Hermione had ever expected it to be. It was white with delicious mint green accents throughout. There was a large king size bed, empty bookcases that were screaming to be filled and a large wardrobe for all of her clothes. There was a total luxurious feel to the entire area but Hermione was slightly surprised to realize that there wasn't an ensuite bathroom.
"Now get dressed for dinner dear, I'll come back to escort you to the dining area."
Hermione looked down at herself for a moment before catching Narcissa's eye. "Dressed?"
"Yes, we always dress for dinner."
"You mean… formal?"
"That's right."
Hermione didn't say anything and just stared at the woman before her. The only dress robes she owned were either the periwinkle blue ones she had worn to the Yule Ball when she was fourteen and obviously didn't fit anymore, or dark ones that she wore exclusively for funerals.
"Am I to assume that you don't have formal dress?" Narcissa asked, in a way that was almost condescending; Hermione felt like a complete moron and instead of answering she just took a deep breath.
"Oh," Narcissa said, and Hermione looked up in time to see her touch her fingers to her lips. "I don't think I'll have anything that will fit you, you're much smaller than I am. I'll have to go out and buy you a few things as soon as I can."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Malfoy. I'll find something to wear."
"Well, I'll be back in thirty minutes to escort you to the dining room."
"Thank you," Hermione said, feeling bold as she reached out and let her fingertips glide along Narcissa's arm, "For everything."
Narcissa gave her a small smile and left her with her boxes; Hermione felt infinitely alone again.
After a few moments of standing in the middle of her new bedroom, Hermione turned hastily to her boxes and started going through them. She knew she had some sundresses and that would be much better than jeans.
She spotted the light blue fabric she was looking for after a few hasty moments of searching and pulled it out of the box. She changed quickly, running her hands over her hair in an attempt to flatten it a little bit and she went to the vanity and checked herself in the mirror, opting to add a little bit of lip-gloss to her full lips. She had no idea exactly how the Malfoy's behaved at dinner, so she thought any effort had to count.
While she was waiting she decided she may as well begin unpacking her boxes. She emptied her large trunk containing clothes and a smaller box that held both clothes and shoes with some random miscellaneous items thrown in the mix while singing a tune to herself. Her tone became a little more sombre as she began to empty her large boxes that contained books, moving them by hand to the bookshelves in the room that was now hers. She went to her discarded pair of jeans and pulled out the letter and photo she had received earlier that evening, deciding to keep it in a small drawer in her vanity. No one would ever have a reason to look in there for anything.
The last two things she held in her hand were muggle devices; she wasn't sure if the Malfoy's would approve of them, but she wasn't going to give either up.
She held an iPod with earphones wrapped around it and a little black zipped up case.
Music was one of the most important things in her life, other than her beloved books; they both helped her feel less alone after her parents died. Her cat went a few months after that and she had felt a little bit abandoned; that was when Harry had momentarily paid attention to her pain and brought her the best gift she could have imagined. Hermione had worked on it so that it would work in magical dwellings and didn't need to be charged with electricity; it instead charged on all of the magical particles in the air.
Maybe she would keep the iPod a secret for the time being.
The black case that contained needles wouldn't be kept a secret at all.
Hermione was deathly allergic to bee stings and needed her epi pen on hand if she was ever stung. If she wasn't given the shot in a decent amount of time her throat would begin closing, cutting off any air supply.
She would die.
/
"You were awfully rude back there, you know. What happened to all of the 'good-breeding' nonsense you've been spewing for the last four days?"
Draco turned to his mother while looping a tie around his neck, his fingers deftly knotting it while he rolled his eyes.
"I can't stand her."
"Well you better start trying, she's here now. I don't even know how you could possibly say that; you haven't even seen her for four years."
"I know her well enough to know that she probably hasn't changed," Draco said, but Narcissa noted that he sounded more upset about his words than angry.
Interesting.
"I like her," Narcissa said, leaning against the doorframe.
"Bully for you," Draco muttered, walking toward his mirror.
"It's time for you to grow up now, Draco. Don't forget that I was there and I know exactly why you turned your back on the entire Dark Lord's campaign, don't forget that I know it has everything to do with that girl across the hall," Narcissa said, turning away in anger and walking down the hall, she popped her head back into his bedroom a few seconds later and said, "Please accompany Hermione downstairs for dinner when you're ready."
Draco knocked a cologne bottle over with the back of his hand in annoyance.
His mother was right, of course; the witch across the hall was indeed the reason he had turned his back on his former master. Not only that, the reason he had turned his back on his father and the beliefs that were continuously being crammed down his throat in specialized 'lessons' that he had attended ever since he could remember – lessons that mostly included being on the opposite end of his father's wand. Hermione knew that she had a lot to do with the changes in Draco's life, but she didn't know everything.
She had made him question everything he had been taught growing up, everything, and because of that his father died knowing that his only son thought he was a pathetic coward.
His mum had already taken a liking to the witch who had changed everything in his life before she stomped on it, the witch intruding in his home, which wasn't overly surprising, since Granger had usurped everything else in his life since he was eleven years old in one way or another.
Apparently the trend was going to continue.
/
There was a knock on Hermione's door and she hurried to her bed and shoved her probably offensive iPod under her pillow, she listened to it most often at night anyway. She straightened up as her door opened and her heart clenched when she heard, "Hurry it up, Granger. I don't have all bloody night."
She groaned inwardly and approached the door where Draco was glowering in, a distinct look of distaste on his face. Hermione was painfully aware that Draco and Narcissa Malfoy escaped the clutches of the dark not a moment too soon. After Harry, Ron and Hermione had escaped to Shell Cottage from Malfoy Manor to recover they had learned from Remus Lupin that Narcissa and Draco had breached headquarters six days after the trio's narrow escape. Both of the Malfoy's had been bloody and weak, fighting for their lives from dehydration and near starvation, apparently Draco had almost lost consciousness numerous times while trying to explain what had happened and Narcissa had dropped to all fours the moment they breached headquarters and started to dry heave continuously for over twenty minutes. Both mother and son were in a considerable amount of shock, but once the Order members who were present understood that Draco was trying to say they had escaped the Dark they immediately took pity on them and nursed them back to health.
Draco didn't tell the Order of the Phoenix the complete truth about why they had defected from the Dark, he felt like that was his business and his business only, but he did tell them what they needed to know. It was really his choice and he absolutely refused to leave his mother there to be murdered. He knew at the time what he was doing, but he didn't exactly take into consideration the fact that they were now on opposite sides of the war as the rest of their family. He didn't exactly realize that it was more than likely they would have to kill their own family members.
Hermione clutched her case of epi pens to her chest as she closed her bedroom door behind her and stood facing the one person she was nervous around; she knew he disliked her immensely for what she'd done to him, even after joining the light side.
It was all her own fault.
Instead of saying something polite to him, which she really felt she should do – maybe thank him for allowing her to stay in his home, she said, "I thought your mum was coming for me?"
Draco snorted and didn't even bother dignifying her with an answer. He turned on his heel and walked away from her quickly, leaving it up to her to either follow close enough to find the way or get lost.
He really didn't give a shit if she did either.
Hermione kept her mouth shut. She was a guest in this house and she knew that she would be dealing with a disgruntled Draco, regardless of what Harry had said to her previously.
She hurried along in his wake, determined not to let his attitude get to her. It wasn't like she was thrilled by this arrangement either.
"You call that formal, then?" he grated out, intentionally trying to goad her into an argument.
"I didn't realize I would need to bring gowns for dinner," she said softly, really wanting to avoid an argument tonight, she was already exhausted from the long day.
Draco almost rolled his eyes, but muttered, "Of course you didn't," under his breath.
By the time they reached the dining hall she was ready to turn around and head directly back to her room, unsure if she could manage to spend more time in the presence of someone who held such an angry grudge against her.
The sight of Narcissa beaming at them as they entered the room changed her mind though, but she wasn't thrilled with the seating arrangements when she realized she would be seated directly across the table from Draco, Narcissa was sitting at the head of the table.
It was a large dining table in an opulent room, and Hermione felt that the size of the table was really a huge waste of space considering there were only three of them.
"What do you have there, dear?" Narcissa asked as the elves began serving them their meal, and by the looks of it, it would be a long meal with plenty of courses.
Hermione unzipped the case slowly and nudged it a little bit closer to Narcissa. She glanced up and saw that Narcissa was looking at her curiously, her eyes slightly narrowed and her perfectly coiffed head tilted to the left slightly; Draco hadn't even bothered to pay the slightest bit of attention to what was going on… not that he needed to.
He already knew.
Narcissa reached a slender fingered hand forward and nudged the case lightly before asking, "What's in this, dear?"
"They're needles."
"Needles?" Narcissa leaned closer and canted her head even more, obviously trying to understand what exactly she was looking at.
Hermione pulled the case back to her with a sigh, she should have realized Narcissa would have no idea what needles were. Healing in the magical world was done strictly with wands and potions; something Hermione knew Draco was amazing at. He worked in the field as mostly a healer for the light during the war and had helped her out plenty of times in their childhood.
Hermione plucked a syringe out of the case and held it by the barrel, holding it up between her thumb and pointer finger so they could see it clearly, since Draco had finally decided to pay attention to what was happening. He glanced at the case of needles and went back to his meal, but Hermione couldn't help but notice that his expression seemed to soften slightly.
Probably with memories.
One side of the barrel was orange and the other was blue and there were diagrams that explained how it worked, but she wanted to explain it anyway.
"I have a severe allergy and if I'm exposed to it I need this needle immediately," She pointed to the orange side, "This is the needle part that needs to go into my body, but before you do anything you need to remove this blue cap on the other side. Once you've got that off you will need to jab the orange side into the outside of my thigh," Hermione gestured to her leg but was cut off before she should continue.
"Oh my…" Narcissa breathed, staring at the syringe with something akin to fear in her eyes.
"There's more," Hermione said, trying to smother her grin at the look on the older woman's face. "It's an auto-injector, so it'll pump the medication into my system, but it needs to be held there for a few seconds before you pull it out. Once you do that you just need to massage the area for ten seconds or so to make sure it gets through my system. You should also know that staying calm is very important, I could have some… reactions to the Epinephrine."
"What sort of reaction?"
"It's never really the same, but the times I've used my epipen I've had something known as 'Epishakes', and I'll probably be panicking. It's caused by the rush of epinephrine into my system, but please just remember that I'm not having a seizure."
"Siezure?"
"Never mind, that's not important. If I'm shaking afterwards, it's not a big deal."
"Why are you telling us this, dear?" Narcissa asked politely, although Hermione couldn't help but notice that she didn't look overly approving.
"Because there may be a point where I can't get to my medication in time. If that ever happens I'm going to have to rely on one of you to administer it for me."
"What is it for though?" Narcissa asked politely while Draco looked bored with the conversation.
"Because without the medication inside of this tube, I'll die."
Draco rolled his eyes and went back to his meal like it wasn't even a big deal but Narcissa looked stricken.
"You'll die? Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"What is this thing that will kill you then?" the matriarch of the family asked, concern in her eyes.
"Bee stings."
Silence followed Draco's words and Narcissa looked at him like he had gone completely crazy. Hermione felt a blush rising on her cheeks, which was absolutely absurd, but she reached out and held out a syringe in Narcissa's direction.
"Please keep this in an area that will be easy for you to get to."
Narcissa reached out a tentative hand and clamped her dainty fingers around the barrel of the syringe, nodding, but still shooting confused looks at Draco.
Hermione almost second guessed what she was about to do next, but she went through with it anyway. She had extra epipens just for situations like this and she wasn't about to put her life on the line because she was too cowardly to do what needed to be done.
She turned to Draco.
"I don't want it."
"You need to take one, Malfoy. What if you were to come across me somewhere in your wing, fighting for breath, or doubled over in such unimaginable pain that I can't even walk?"
Draco shrugged.
"I'll die! Isn't it your responsibility to ensure that I'm safe?"
Draco's eyes narrowed, and Hermione knew that he was pissed off now for reminding him about his duty to protect her. She could imagine just how angry that notion made him.
Hermione held it out again and this time he grudgingly took it, putting it into the pocket of his suit jacket.
She finally picked up her fork and began to eat, noticing moments later that Narcissa was staring at her. Hermione finally gave in after just a few bites and looked back to the woman of the house.
"Please don't refer to Draco as 'Malfoy'. It's slightly rude and since we are in Malfoy Manor and I'm obviously a Malfoy as well, it could get a little bit confusing."
Hermione felt her cheeks start flaming immediately, she met the blond idiot's eyes and saw him smiling at her with a self-satisfied grin.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"It's quite alright, you may also refer to me as Narcissa instead of Mrs. Malfoy. I would honestly prefer that and you'll be here a while… I think it's best to just get in that habit straight away. We don't need things to be more awkward than they already are."
"May I be excused please, mother? I'm finished eating."
"You've barely eaten."
"I've lost my appetite," Draco claimed, staring straight at Hermione to make sure she understood that her presence was the reason why.
"Well, alright then."
"I'm going to change and then I'm going out," Draco said.
"Where are you going?" Narcissa asked her son, concern etched into her features.
"Out for drinks with Nott and Zabini."
Narcissa released a breath as Draco looked at her challengingly, "Remember, darling, not a word about Hermione's presence here," she said, but it seemed like she wanted to say much more than that.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, almost mockingly, before he turned and left Hermione with his mother.
"So what have you been doing since school, dear?" Narcissa asked as Hermione took another bite of her dinner.