Most ardently by Swift Night Chapter 5.
Hermione's next few days at Featherfield proved quite a
challenge as she attempted to avoid Mr. Malfoy as much as
possible. Mostly, it involved spending
time by Luna's bedside, chatting while her sister was awake, and
reading while she slept. She, however, was not afforded
the same excuses as Luna when it came to declining Mr. Sabini's
daily invitations during his visits to check on them.
As such, Hermione found herself dining with him and his
companion for meals or reading during quiet evenings in the
library on several occasions throughout the remainder of the
week while Luna continued to recover.
Thankfully, Mr. Sabini and Miss Parkinson carried most of the
conversation between the four of them during the time they were
congregated together. While Hermione did not always
agree with Miss Parkinson's outspoken opinions, she found
herself quite enraptured by the witch's boldness in sharing them
so freely. She did not shy away from
arguments with the gentleman, and despite being named after a
delicate flower, she was prickly and defensive when challenged.
Through the exchanges, Hermione learned that Miss Parkinson was
the sole heiress of her father's estate.
The Parkinson's family seat on the Wisengemot had gone to a
distant cousin, but the lands and fortune remained with Mr.
Parkinson's daughter. Unfortunately, she would not
gain access to her inherited lands and holdings until she
married. Of course, Hermione immensely
respected that Miss Parkinson seemed in no rush to fall in
love with the first suitor who came along.
It was revealed that upon her father's death, many eligible
Wizards appeared in Mr. Sabini's London drawing room to vie for
Miss Parkinson's affections and therefore her fortune, but she
rejected them all. The witch told Hermione the tale
of one particularly nasty wizard named Mr. Flint.
The scoundrel was persistent in his pursuit, but when Miss
Parkinson made it clear she would never consider him as a
suitor, he decided to attempt a kidnapping and had to be
apprehended by auras trying to flee the city.
Apparently, Mr. Malfoy had been involved in saving Miss
Parkinson from ruin, and it seemed to be the reason Miss
Parkinson showed such preference for the gentleman despite his
apathy toward her. Hermione hoped the witch did not
take his cold indifference personally, as Mr. Malfoy could
never be accused of having a warm countenance.
Since their discussion in the greenhouse, he remained sullen
and discontent in his interactions with Hermione.
She had caught him scowling at her on several occasions, but he
always looked away once he realised she noticed his glares
and had yet to address her directly since the incident.
As such, the story from Miss Parkinson had no positive effect
on Hermione's opinion of the wizard.
It was most likely he had only intervened because of his
friendship with Mr. Zabini, who was dutifully attached to his
sister and devoted to her well-being.
Knowing that, Hermione thought the ordeal reflected more
favourably on Mr. Zabini's good character than anyone else's.
Hermione learned the unfortunate circumstance was the catalyst
for the wizard's sudden move to the country mid season, wanting
to spare his sister from being accosted by any more unseemly
individuals skulking around London in search of a quick
galleon. While Hermione would not wish
such an ordeal on any witch, including Miss Parkinson, she
was glad it had LED Mr. Sabini to come to Ottery St.
Catapole, if only to cross paths with Luna.
Tonight had been the first evening her sister felt well
enough to join them for dinner. Hermione listened as Mr. Zabini
conversed with her sister, monopolising her attention.
Luna had tried to include Hermione on several occasions,
but Mr. Sabini's focus could not be swayed, which only flustered
her sister more. Hermione did not take offence at
Mr. Zabini's unwillingness to engage her, knowing the wizard
was attempting to spend as much time with Luna as possible since
it had been announced that the ladies would be departing
Featherfield in the morning. After nearly a week of
infringing on the hospitality of Featherfield, Hermione thanked
Merlin that Luna was finally well enough to return home.
Her father sent word through her mother that the carriage would
be collecting the witches and return them to the sanctuary of
the borough and their family by noontime the following day.
She tried to ask to have the carriage arrive sooner, but the
letter she received from Missus Weasley included some half
hearted excuse that the Thestrals could not be prepared
in time, so Hermione was subjected to a final meal with
her hosts. When dinner concluded, Muna was
utterly exhausted and excused herself to retire for the
evening. Hermione wanted to make a
similar excuse for herself, but Miss Parkinson insisted on
enjoying her company in the library once her sister got
settled upstairs. At least if she were to be
subjected to a dull evening, she would be able to do so in the
comfort of Fairfield Library. With bookshelves filled with all
varieties of reading materials, Hermione found herself
discovering something new each evening on all subjective
matters. Tonight she settled on an
advanced Transfiguration text that far exceeded the standard
spellbook she used for her lessons as a child.
Mr. Zabini noticed her choice and could not refrain from
commenting on it. Only you would find my old
school book to be a bit of light reading, Miss Granger.
The wizard declared with the chuckle.
Forgive me Mr. Sabini, I did not know I can fetch something else.
Hermione blushed. No, no, don't stop on my
account. He insisted.
I'm sure someone with as keen a mind as yours would understand
it far better than I did. I unfortunately only received an
acceptable for my Newts on the subject, the nastily exhausting
wizarding tests, correct? Hermione perked up, fascinated
by the topic. Yes.
Mr. Sabini nodded, true to the name.
I'm afraid I barely survived my last year at Hogwarts, and I
certainly would not have done as well as I did if not for Draco.
You over exaggerate my importance, Blaze.
Mr. Malvoy said without looking up from the document he was
reviewing. Oh come now Draco, we snakes
would have been a lost cause without you.
You were top of the class and held our feet to the fire when
it came to keeping Slytherin on top.
If the Headmaster hadn't favoured Gryffindor so much, we
would have won the House cup every year.
Ah, Gryffindor. Pansy said the name as if it
were a curse. If I had gone to Hogwarts,
Slytherin would have been the only acceptable choice for me.
Well, you certainly wouldn't have done well in Hufflepuff,
Pans. Mr. Sabini teased his sister.
I almost ended up in Ravenclaw. Believe it or not, it took
nearly 4 minutes for that old hat to decide where to place me.
I think that Luna would have been in Ravenclaw, Hermione
added. She is so naturally curious.
Yeah, she would have fit well in with them.
Mr. Zerbini agreed. Perhaps you would have too.
Oh no, she disagreed. I think I would have preferred
Gryffindor. This was apparently the wrong
thing to say as all three heads snapped to her.
Mr. Sabini's eyes sparkled with amusement, Miss Parkinson's
shone with displeasure, and Mr. Malfoy's grey eyes conveyed pure
loathing. It was he who spoke first.
Of course you would consider yourself a lioness.
And what's wrong with that? Gryffindors are known for their
courage and chivalry. I have read all about the
different houses and Hogwarts. A history says it is the house
where brave at heart dwell. It is a house filled with
reckless Wizards with short tempers and saviour complexes.
Mr. Malfoy spat. Hermione wanted to point out
that Gryffindors may not be the only ones with short tempers,
but that would not bode well for the continuation of the evening
conversation. Then what house would you place
me in, Mr. Malfoy? Do you agree with Mr. Sabini's
opinion that I would be better suited for Ravenclaw?
Certainly not, he said curtly. You would be best suited in
Slytherin. Hermione gaped at him, unable to
form a retort to such an outlandish statement.
Miss Parkinson, whether in her defence or damnation, spoke
against him. You cannot be serious, Mr.
Malfoy. Muggleborns have never been
accepted into Slytherin, Neither have witches, but in this
hypothetical game, the rules can be discarded.
He shrugged nonchalantly. I'm not sure I would want to be
the first. Hermione insisted.
Besides, I'm afraid I don't possess any of their defining
characteristics. No, Hermione would make a
terrible Slytherin, and she was starting to think that Mister
Malfoy was making a joke at her expense.
From what she had read and the few Wizards she had met from the
House, Slytherins were most known for their ambition,
cunning, and shrewdness, not to mention their highly developed
senses of self preservation. Mr. Sabini had been the first
alumnus she had found palatable in all her years interacting
within wizarding society, though even he had just admitted to
nearly being placed in a different house entirely, so
Hermione considered him the exception to the rule.
Then we shall agree to disagree on the matter.
He stated before returning to his papers without any
elaboration as to why he held such a ludicrous opinion, which
only managed to irritate Hermione further.
Well, none of this theoretical discussion matters much anyway.
Miss Parkinson declared before the silence could settle once
more. A witch need not attend Hogwarts
to be considered accomplished, and yet an accomplished witch is
still quite rare. To that we can agree it is quite
a rare thing indeed. Mr. Malfoy added.
It is my own opinion that the word is applied too liberally
these days. In all my acquaintance, I cannot
boast of knowing more than half a dozen truly accomplished
witches, nor I. The witch nodded.
Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes at such a statement.
Goodness, you must have a high definition on the subject then.
Hermione nearly scoffed. I do.
He stated plainly, looking back up at her again.
A witch must have a thorough knowledge of Latin, Charms,
Potions, Transfiguration, and magical history to deserve the
word. Miss Parkinson elaborated.
But there is something about the importance of good breeding that
cannot be understated. Miss Parkinson's gaze landed on
her when she added her final remark, but Mr. Malfoy
interrupted and drew the witch's attention once more.
A basic knowledge of such subjects is not enough.
She must continue to advance her mind by extensive reading in all
manner of subjects. This time, Hermione scoff could
not be repressed. I am no longer surprised at you
knowing so few accomplished women, and we were curious that
by your own definition, whether you truly know any at all.
Are you so severe on your fellow witch that you think it
impossible? His voice was somehow even
harsher than before. Mr. Malfoy captured her gaze,
his grey eyes piercing her, but she would not stumble in her
conviction. By your own words, I must
confess I have yet to meet such a marvel.
But I would be honoured to know her, for she would be a
remarkably fearsome creature to behold.
The silence grew intense as Hermione and Mr. Malfoy
continued to appraise one another.
Speaking of accomplished witches, how is your mother
faring, Mr. Malfoy? Pansy asked, causing Mr. Malfoy
to break his focus, ultimately freeing Hermione.
She is well, thank you. The wizard gruffed before
returning to his papers. How I miss her.
Please tell her such in your next letter.
Miss Parkinson simpered, ignoring the tension that had
overtaken the library. I have only just written to her
this morning, so your regard shall have to wait until I write
again. Hermione hoped that that would
be the end of that, but Miss Parkinson rose from her chair
unexpectedly and made her way over to stand in front of her.
Miss Granger, please join me in a turn about the room.
The witch phrased it as a request, but it felt more like a
demand. Not wanting to offend her host
by refusing, Hermione placed her book to the side and stood.
Once upright, Miss Parkinson took to Hermione's arm into hers
and began leading her around the library.
It felt very silly, but she still said nothing.
Is it not refreshing to be on one's feet after sitting idly
for so long? Miss Parkinson prompted,
speaking loud enough for the gentleman to hear.
I suppose the exercise is pleasant.
Hermione begrudgingly conceded. Won't you join us, Mr. Malfoy?
Miss Parkinson addressed him as if Hermione had never spoken at
all. You can only have two motives,
Pansy, for asking such a thing, and it would be unwise for me to
interfere with either. Oh, how he teases us.
The witch bemoaned. Whatever could he mean, Miss
Granger? There was a playfulness in her
voice Hermione had not heard before.
It was strange to be in on the jesting with the witch rather
than the focus of sharp wit. She wondered how Mr. Malfoy
would fare in such a situation. The surest way of disappointing
him would be to ignore him entirely.
She replied, her lips curling up into a small smile.
Oh, but I am so curious to know. Do tell us, Mr. Malfoy.
She thought Mr. Malfoy would ignore the witch's demand, but
after a moment he turned to address them as they continued
their jaunt around the room. Either you have private affairs
you wish to discuss in each other's confidence, or you are
aware your figures are most appealing while walking.
He remarked. If it is the first, I shall only
inconvenience you with my presence.
And if it is the second, then I shall admit that I can admire
you far better from here. Oh my.
Miss Parkinson shrieked in amusement before turning back to
her. How shall we punish him for such
a shocking speech? Perhaps we should laugh at him?
Hermione proposed. This seemed to be even a step
too far for Miss Parkinson as she freed Hermione, stepping
away and shaking her head. Oh no, Mr. Malfoy is not to be
teased. They stopped by his desk.
It was the closest Hermione who had been to him since their time
in the greenhouse. Ah, are you too proud, Mr.
Malfoy? She asked, stepping even closer.
I have always debated whether pride was a fault or a virtue.
After all, are we not doing our best to find a fault in you?
I have no answer to that question, Mr. Malfoy replied.
Perhaps my fault is that I find it hard to forgive the follies
and vices of others, or their offences against me.
My good opinion, once lost, can never be recovered.
There was something so honest in his expression, the intensity of
it momentarily catching her off balance.
What a shame, she said, once she'd recovered.
I cannot tease you about such a thing.
I have no doubt you will find other matters more amusing.
You do love to laugh, it seems, Yes.
Hermione nodded, feeling suddenly quite awkward standing
so close. Now freed from Miss Parkinson,
Hermione quickly returned to her seat and picked back up the
Transfiguration text that she had previously abandoned.
This time, when silence descended upon the group, no one
broke it. The only sound was the
scratching of quill on parchment and the turning of pages.
Hermione stared down at her book, attempting to read, but
the words felt incoherent. She could feel Mr. Malvoy's eyes
still on her, making a conscious effort to refuse to glance up to
meet them again for the remainder of the evening.
The carriage arrived at lunch and was filled to the brim with
Weaseleys. Poor Crumsy announced them all
in quick succession. Misses Weasley, a Miss Weasley,
a Miss Weasley, and a Miss Weasley.
The Alf bowed low. Merlin, are we to welcome every
Weasley in the country? Miss Parkinson protested.
Hermione and Luna exchanged A resigned glance.
They suspected that Misses Weasley would insist on
collecting them, if only to see Featherfield in all its glory,
but bringing all the other daughters meant that she did not
intend to have a quick visit. Mr. Sabini.
Missus Weasley's voice was shrill, causing Hermione to
cringe. What a lovely home you have,
Sir, and filled with such fine furnishing.
Thank you, Missus Weasley, I am so glad you could come today to
see it. Ever the gracious host, Mr.
Sabini welcomed them all with a smile and a bow.
Oh, I hope you'd intend to stay in Featherfield, Mr. Zabini.
Her mother said after sitting on the sofa across from Hermione
and Luna. Oh, of course, I have found the
country to be a refreshing change of pace, wouldn't you
agree, Malfoy? Hermione's eyes returned to the
wizard for the first time since yesterday evening.
He was turned towards Mr. Zabini when he gave his reply.
I suppose it is perfectly adequate.
He answered, even if it lacks the variety within society
common in London. It seemed he would be just as
sullen today as he had been all week, and Hermione found she
desired nothing more than to be out of his presence as soon as
possible. Less varied.
Missus Weasley sounded offended by his statement.
Nonsense. We dine with more than a dozen
families of all magical backgrounds.
The Browns for instance, all the Longbottoms, very agreeable
individuals indeed, and a good deal less self important than
others half their rank. Hermione didn't miss the way
Missus Weasley's focus shifted to Mr. Malfoy during her
remarks. She recalled once how Jinny had
received a howler 1 morning after her father wrote home to
tell her that the young girl had stolen a carriage and ridden it
around London for half an hour before being apprehended by
Auras. She had learned very young that
her mother was never one to cross.
Ginny did not seem to notice the focus of her mother's ire,
instead jumping in to accost Mr. Zebini about hosting a ball at
Featherfield. Oh, please host a ball, Mr.
Zebini. Her sister begged.
It is a great way to make new acquaintances.
Not to mention you can invite the auras who've just arrived in
town. They are excellent company.
Hermione had not heard the auras finally made an appearance, but
she wasn't surprised that Ginny had already made their
acquaintance. The season is coming to an end,
but perhaps for Yule. The wizard conceded.
Crumsy interrupted them to inform the gathered witches and
Wizards that lunch was ready to be served and they were
relocated to the dining room. Thankfully, Hermione thought her
family behaved themselves well, aside from Charlie's tangent
about Dragons. Halfway through second course,
she felt relieved when the carriage was ordered back out
front and the ladies began to say goodbye to their hosts.
Hermione had to return upstairs to collect her bag with her and
Luna's belongings and found Miss Parkinson waiting for her at the
bottom of the steps. I've come to see you off.
The witch offered. That's very kind of you Miss
Parkinson. Are we not friends then?
For if we are friends, you can call me Pansy and I should call
you Hermione. The sentiment caught her off
guard. She had not believed Miss
Parkinson. Pansy had liked her very much
during her visit, but perhaps she had been mistaken.
With Luna and Mr. Sabini's budding courtship, it would be
unwise for Hermione to refuse the witch's gesture.
I suppose we are Pansy, she said, the name tasting informal
on her tongue, but the feeling was offset by a genuine smile
returned by the witch. Good.
She said, genuinely seeming pleased.
I shall be glad to know I have one friend here, 2.
Hermione corrected. Luna as well, and perhaps Pansy
shrugged, her eyes landing on her brother as he brushed a kiss
onto Luna's gloved hand. She was not sure how her sister
could stand wearing gloves as Hermione found them sweltering
today. She had foregone them entirely
for the ride home, even with a slight chill in the air.
She offered a final goodbye to Pansy before walking up to join
the gentleman at the carriage. Mr. Malfoy.
She cursed in acknowledgement before turning to his companion.
Mr. Zabini, thank you again for your hospitality.
Of course, I shall hope to call on the borough soon.
Pleased to hear that. Hermione ascended into the
carriage when suddenly Mr. Malfoy's hands were in hers,
helping to guide her up. The absence of gloves meant they
were touching skin to skin for the first time and she found it
to be a peculiar sensation. It lasted only a few seconds and
then his hand was gone. Stunned by the encounter,
Priscilla had to pull her down into her seat so the carriage
could leave. As the carriage began to move,
she watched his imposing figure retreat back inside and could
have sworn she saw his hand flex.