Author: blacksouledbutterfly (me)
Summary: I always knew you would be the one to make me cry....
I look up as the door to the library opens.
My son walks in, hand in hand with the girl I know must be Hermione.
I look her over briefly. She is pretty, for a muggle.
I remember when I had seen her at that Quidditch game my husband and son dragged me to in Draco’s fourth year at Hogwarts. Her hair was a mess of waves and her eyes held great dislike.
Her hair is somewhat tamed. It falls nicely and I can say that I approve of that change.
Her eyes no longer look like they are filled with dislike. But…worry?
Of course worry.
She is worried I will not want her to have anything to do with my son.
I place the book I was reading on my lap. “Sit.” I motion to the seats across from me.
Draco is the first to sit down, arrogant looking as ever.
Then Hermione sits down next to him. She looks around the room, eyes skimming across the books.
I smile. “We have a large selection, do we not?”
Her eyes flicker to me, surprised. “Yes.” Her voice sounds hesitant.
I look at Draco, one eyebrow raised. “I believe, Draco, she is afraid of me.”
He smiles then, only slightly. “Perhaps. Why don’t you ask her?”
“Are you afraid of me, Hermione?”
She blinks at me. Did she think I didn’t know her name? “No, Mrs. Malfoy,” she answers.
Draco looks shocked. I was always telling Pansy not to call me by my first name and here I was telling Hermione, a muggle, to call me by my given name.
Hermione tilts her head. “Excuse me?”
“Call me Narcissa. Mrs. Malfoy was my mother-in-law.”
She looks like she’s ready to laugh but thinks better of it. She nods. “Alright…..Narcissa.”
I look at Draco. “She’s rather shy.”
He laughs then, loud and deep. “Mother, if only you knew Hermione. She is never shy. She is the first one to tell you that you’re wrong and yell at you about it.” The girl’s face is turning red and she looks at her hand. “She on more than one occasion gave me some rather stern lectures.”
This time I laugh. “Did she now?” I smile. “Reminds me of your father and I when we were younger.”
Draco stiffens at the mention of his father.
Hermione turns cinnamon eyes to me. “You used to lecture Draco’s father?”
I nod. “All the time.” I stop and look at her. “You’re afraid I wont want you to have anything to do with my son, are you not?”
She nods hesitantly.
“Didn’t he tell you that I wanted him to find you and make things right?”
“He did tell me.”
“Then why is it you think that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I reach out and touch her hand slightly. “Do not be so nervous around me,” I tell her. “And do not be a suck up like Pansy Parkinson. That only annoys me.”
“You never told me that,” Draco says.
I shrug, pulling my hand back. “You never asked.”
I turn to look at Hermione once more. “Now, Hermione, I don’t really know you, but from what Draco has told me, I like you. And I also want my son to be happy.” I glance between them. “And you make him happy. So if that is the case, I am perfectly happy with you two being together.”
The doors to the library swing open and the house elf Serena comes in. She stops, taking a deep breath. “Young Master Malfoy, I am so sorry!”
Draco turns to look at her. “For what?”
“I tried to stop it, Master, I did. It was too much. I tried. I tried.”
I notice then that she if covered in scratches. She looked very hurt.
“Tried to stop what?” Draco asks, standing up. Hermione follows and stands next to him, grabbing his hand.
Serena shakes her head. “So sorry, it’s the child.”
Hermione gasps. “Danica? Where is she?”
I furrow my eyebrows. Who is Danica?
“She is gone. The child is gone,” Serena says.
And Hermione faints.