A/N: I had hoped to have this posted by New Years, but COVID had other plans. I may have gotten a bit carried away from the main plot with Narcissa, but she's so darn commanding.

I look forward to your thoughts. Happy New Year!


Chapter 31: Mixed Emotions

Hermione steadied herself against Snape after he Apparated them onto the front stoop of Grimmauld Place. Pulse racing, she smoothed her hand over the velvet of his robes. They stared at each other until he politely stepped back.

She wrapped Hestia's cloak tighter about herself. "You're not coming inside?"

"Is that necessary?"

Shaking her head, Hermione glanced at the front door, then back at him. "Could I perhaps go back with you?"

His eyes widened briefly. "No."

"Please?"

Severus crossed his arms. "I will collect you on the fourth."

"But I really don't want to stay here any longer."

His gaze suddenly darkened and panned to the dining room window. "Why?"

A burst of panic prompted her to step toward him. "Because I don't want to sit around drinking and criticizing our marriage, which is all they seem to want to do. It's fine when Tonks is here – or even the twins – but they're usually working. Ginny's hardly any help on her own, and I'm tired of feeling like their punching bag. I spend most of my time hiding somewhere to read, which I could do at home."

Hermione paused, flustered by having called Snape's quarters home. Before he responded, however, she grabbed his arm. "Please, I won't bother you. I'll be quiet and keep to myself. Or I could help with marking again if there's something you'd trust me with… or if you need something hauled to the infirmary. Please, Severus… please."

Breathing deeply, Severus lowered his arms. "You have to stay here –"

Her face fell.

"—tonight, but I will return for you in the afternoon."

"You will?!" Hermione threw her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you!"

Severus stared up at the stars. "If you wish to avoid howling, I wouldn't recommend giving the jackals any warning."

Stepping back, she smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, then? Or later today, I guess it would be."

At his hesitant nod, Hermione finally moved toward the door. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Happy New Year."

xxxXxxx

Ginny yawned after Hermione finished her tale. "I'm off to bed now. Good night."

"Tell Potter to keep his pants on," Tonks warned.

The redhead sighed dramatically. "We're not doing that."

"Not on my watch, you're not!", the Auror called after her.

Hermione, laying with her head on the witch's lap, groaned. "I hope they remember she's sharing a room with me."

"You can always seek refuge in my room."

"So you can tease my husband about it?"

Tonks snorted. "An added bonus!"

Hermione giggled into a long sigh. "I thought he might kiss me."

"You told us he did," Tonks smirked. "Or was that just for Gin's benefit?"

"We kissed there, yes. I meant here. For some reason, I thought he might kiss me good night."

"And are we disappointed or relieved that he didn't?"

Hermione rubbed her face. "Both?"

"Fair enough."

"I asked him to take me back to the castle with him."

"You wanted to escape us that badly?"

"No, not you."

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "So, you asked because you wanted to sleep in your own bed? Or in his?"

Hermione tensed at the question. "I don't…I didn't… I'm not ready for that."

"And that's alright," Tonks stroked her hair. "More than alright. Baby ste—erm, small steps are what you should be taking, if you even want to take them at all. There's nothing wrong with the plan the two of you concocted in October –"

"He concocted."

"Oh, now you don't like the plan? So, you do want to –"

"I didn't say that. Oh god," Hermione sat up quickly. "Do you think he thought that's what I meant?"

"I…don't know?"

She covered her face. "That's why he's making me wait until this afternoon, isn't it?"

"Again, no idea."

"I didn't mean… alright, maybe – maybe – I thought about sitting on his lap again and snogging a bit. Clothes on stuff, not…"

Tonks wrapped her arms about the young witch. "Stop panicking, love. You had a good night, you did some stuff together, and now you both need some time to overthink it before taking any further steps."

Hermione took a deep breath and watched the firelight reflecting off the beads of her gown. A smile slowly widened on her face as she tucked into the Auror's shoulder. "It was a good night."

"I'd say so!" Tonks tugged her backward and half-pinned the giggling girl to the cushions. "Now, what is this about lap-sitting, hmm? You left that out of your story, Madam Snape!"

xxxXxxx

Slamming the door shut, Severus stormed into his sitting room. He tore at his cravat and threw it somewhere the elves would find later. The fuck is wrong with you?

He could lie to everyone else – to Hermione – and say he had kissed her to sell their narrative or drum up publicity to pay for her stupid gown, but he was too tired to lie to himself. There had been no thinking on his part – likely not on hers, either. There had just been lips, and tongues, and shivering heat… hints of champagne and chocolate… her delicate perfume… her soft skin against his fingers… and fucking fireworks in her eyes.

It had been mindless sensation. And above all else, he could not afford to be mindless.

Dropping onto the couch, Severus ran his hands over his head. Despite her participation, he could not blame her for what happened. He was the one who knew everything at risk. He was the one who was sober, the one who had been an adult for more than ten bloody minutes, the one who was responsible for her well-being.

Maybe she was right; maybe they had poisoned her food, and he had fallen on the sword. Not poisoned – doctored…with what? Something to lower inhibitions, heighten arousal?

Except he was a Potions Master – this was not any lust potion. Had it been, he would not have delivered her back to Black's house; he would have brought her here – or taken Lucius up on his leering offer of a guest room. He would not have stepped back; he would have backed her up against the front door and finished what had been interrupted at midnight. And when she begged him to take her with him…

Severus growled, fisting his hands in his hair. No one else was to blame for his predicament. A pretty girl in a pretty dress sat on his lap, and he let himself get carried away. He was not sure which had been more distracting – when she was anxiously vibrating on his thigh, or when she relaxed and melted into him. Probably the latter because that's when she felt comfortable enough to touch him.

Granted, she had been touching him all night, but when she had lazily played with his hair… he swore the tingles traveled straight from his scalp to the base of his cock. He was only spared public and very personal humiliation due to his Occlumency and the thickness of her skirts.

It hardly made a difference if she returned now or in twelve hours. Dumbledore would be irritated with him regardless, and the Order would probably assume he was hauling her back early for the wrong reasons. That he could handle. What he could not handle was his uncertainty that she would have made it to bed unmolested had he brought her back now… that she would not presently be sitting here on the sofa with his mouth at her throat and his hand on her breast… that the dress she should never take off would not be carelessly piled on the floor after he slowly stripped it from her.

"Goddamn it!" Severus stood up and tried to shake the images from his head. He needed the twelve hours to get himself back under regulation.

Angrily, the wizard moved into the bathroom, disrobing as he went. Before showering, however, he did what he actively avoided; he looked at his naked self in the mirror. The sight certainly had not improved since the last time he dared. He was still scrawny and pale as a corpse. A constellation of darkened scars interrupted his chest hair, giving the appearance of some mangy, diseased vampire.

That had no business touching anyone, let alone someone so young and innocent.

Turning away in disgust, Severus stepped into the tub. Though his reflection was more than enough to cool his libido, he still turned the water on as cold as it could go.

xxxXxxx

Hermione glanced up from her book to check the time. Beyond 'afternoon', she had no idea when to expect her husband. Half expecting him to arrive just past noon, she had hauled herself out of bed early enough to ensure she was showered, everything was packed, and Crookshanks was found, fed, and in his carrier for transport.

Of course, that had been three hours ago, and she had since let the little monster out to roam. His yowling was enough to wake the dead, and after the third Silencing Charm, she was afraid to cast another lest he become permanently mute.

Yawning, Hermione closed her eyes… and startled herself back awake several minutes later. It had been dawn by the time she finally climbed into bed, so she had only managed a few hours' sleep. Had she known it would be late afternoon, she would have slept longer, and the thought that Snape could arrive any minute kept her from taking a decent nap. The longer he had to wait for her in the house, the more likely he was to get in a spat with Sirius, and she would already need time to track Crooks down again.

If he had arrived at one – or even two – they could have slipped away without any issue, but now the boys were up. She could hear them thundering around downstairs, no doubt eating everything in sight.

As her stomach growled, Hermione stashed her book in her trunk and headed down to the kitchen. Harry, Ron, Remus, and the twins were seated around the table.

"Mornin', 'Mione," Harry greeted, chewing his cereal.

"Morning?" she scoffed. "It's after three."

Remus chuckled behind his coffee. "It's morning somewhere."

"Not here," she sung under her breath while perusing the cupboards.

"So," Fred tapped his spoon against his chin, "how was your big party, then?"

Hermione glanced back at him. "It was fine."

"Punch any Malfoys?" Harry asked hopefully.

She snorted. "No."

"But you're so good at it!" he grinned.

"Though tempting, it would've been counterproductive."

"For getting into Snape's knickers?" Fred teased. "I can see that."

"Shut up!" Hermione grabbed a bread roll and chucked it at him.

Catching it, he took a smug bite out of it.

"I dunno," George shrugged. "Godson or not, watching her punch an arrogant, richy rich arsewipe might've been a turn on for –"

Hermione whipped another roll at him but failed to keep her scowl. "You are ridiculous!"

Toasting his twin with their matching bread rolls, George smirked. "Just saying it would've been a turn on for me."

"And we know you and Snape have similar tastes in mistletoe conquests," Fred nodded.

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, that's –"

"ENOUGH!" Ron threw down his toast and stormed out of the room.

Hermione turned back to the cupboard to catch her breath. Despite his continued behavior, a part of her hoped he could find the maturity and empathy to be her friend again.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry winced. "He just needs a minute to cool down, and he'll be back."

"To finish his breakfast," she snapped, "not to apologize."

Remus sighed as he eyed her tense form. "Perhaps we all should apologize, Hermione. You have more than enough on your shoulders."

"Thank you," she ground out, while the boys mumbled apologies. Moving to the refrigerator, she contemplated whether Remus had intended to slight Severus with his comment. She also considered whether she cared at this point since the entire conversation could have been avoided had her husband showed up on time.

Except we didn't set a time, and there's still plenty of afternoon left, so why are you mad? Hermione sighed as she reached for one of the trays Molly had prepared.

"Certainly gloomy in here, isn't it?" Sirius remarked upon arrival.

The witch jerked at a hand on her hip. And that's why.

"Just squeezing past," Sirius winked, then eyed her slowly. "Alright, Hermione?"

She feigned a smile. "Fine, yes."

"You seem jumpy this morning –"

"Afternoon."

"—did something happen?" He then leaned in and murmured, "Do I need to sort anything?"

Hermione set down her plate harder than intended. "No. I am fine. The party was fine. Severus was fine. We did what we were expected to do, alright? We danced, we ate, we chatted with people, we kissed, we watched fireworks –"

"Ah, ah, go back one," Fred gestured in a backward motion. "You did what?"

She crossed her arms and faced the room. "It was New Years at midnight! We're married and allegedly soul mates – it would look incredibly odd if we didn't kiss. So just let it go!"

When they all quietly returned to their breakfast, the witch finished loading up her lunch plate.

A moment later, Ginny appeared in the doorway. "Hey, 'Mione? You going somewhere?"

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.

"Your stuff's all packed up, and your bed's made, so…"

"Erm, yes. I wanted to go back to the castle to work on something, so Severus is coming to get me." Hermione picked up her plate and exited the room before anyone could speak.

George cleared his throat, "To work on something, or someone?"

Fred waggled his eyebrows, "Told you she's scheming to get in Snape's knickers."

Ginny snorted and grabbed an untouched piece of toast from Ron's plate. "If so, why not go back with him last night?"

Snarling, Sirius flopped down beside Remus. "Because he probably needed time to scrub the stains out of his pants."

xxxXxxx

"Am I keeping you from something?"

Severus met Dumbledore's stony gaze. "Pardon?"

"That's the second time you've checked the clock."

"As one might expect of a potioneer, I have potions to eventually tend."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Which potions?"

"Wiggenwelds and Wound-Cleaners," he sighed, "and two potential antidotes. Not in the same lab, of course."

"Any promise with the antidotes?"

Severus leaned his head on the back of the chair. "In so much as they haven't blown up in my face. Whether they work remains to be tested."

Dumbledore frowned. "You know my thoughts on this."

"Yes, you're perfectly fine with me gifting the Dark Lord an undetectable, fatal poison without any way to counteract it."

"I am not perfectly fine with it," he snapped, "but denying him it jeopardizes his faith in you, which we cannot afford –"

"So, let's just hand him the Ministry on a silver platter."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "The poison is incredibly slow-acting. You will still have months to sort out a fix even after it gets administered."

Irritated, Severus folded his hands on his stomach and stared up at the ceiling.

"Now, whenever you're done pouting like one of your students…"

xxxXxxx

Hermione slowly stepped off the staircase. "I thought you'd changed your mind."

Severus rubbed his forehead. "My meeting with the Headmaster was delayed and ran longer than anticipated. I had to tend potions before leaving instead of after returning."

"Oh." Eying the tension in his frame, she regretted her earlier irritation. "I'll just go grab my stuff."

When the witch returned, she found him leaning against the wall, eyes closed. At her next step, he stood tall and reached for her bag. "Severus, are you sure… do you want to sit down? Or lay down?"

"I'm fine."

"I can get you something to eat."

"Granger," he warned. "I am fine. Give me the damn bag and go find that beast of yours."

"Excuse us, Hermione," Remus appeared from the library. "Severus and I need to have a word."

As her husband growled under his breath, Hermione turned around. "No, Remus. You don't need –"

"Upstairs, Hermione," the man smiled. "I saw your familiar prowling about the boys' room just a moment ago. No doubt cleaning up after them."

She glanced at Snape, who waved her on, before begrudgingly climbing the stairs to the second floor. Keeping one ear perked for any shouting—or anything worse – she searched the cesspool of a bedroom to no avail. After similarly striking out in the bathroom and other rooms on the floor, she called up the staircase for Crooks. She decided not to search the first floor, instead returning to check on her husband.

Severus sat staring out the dining room window, while Remus stared at him from across the table. They both looked up at her entrance.

"No luck?" Remus asked.

Focusing on Snape, Hermione shook her head.

"I must've been mistaken, then. My apologies."

Severus scoffed loudly and crossed his arms.

"I've got him!" Sirius came down the stairs with Crookshanks under his arm. "Here you go, Kitten."

Hermione glared as she took her pet, while Snape's glower could have set the man's hair on fire.

Even Remus gave him a perturbed look. "Pad…"

Sirius shrugged innocently. "I was talking to the cat."

"The hell you were," Severus growled.

After pushing Crookshanks into his carrier, Hermione picked up her bag. "Let's just go, please? I'm tired and would like to go to bed."

"Her own bed," Sirius added.

Severus silently removed the bag's strap from her shoulder and placed it on his. Despite her assurance she could carry it, he also took possession of the pet carrier before moving to open the door.

Hermione paused. "Well, erm… thank you for having me."

"No problem at all, Hermione," Remus smiled.

"Indeed," Sirius agreed, "It was a pleasure…having you."

Her stomach practically dropped into her shoes at his double entendre. She turned stiffly to face her husband, who was glaring a hole in the ceiling, then strode out of the house.

"We'll see you at Easter!" Remus called before the door slammed shut.

"I trust you're ready?" Severus held out his free arm.

Hermione nodded, then squeezed her eyes shut as they disapparated. Once inside the Hogwarts grounds, she waited while her husband locked the staff gate and quietly followed him to their quarters. After he deposited her things on the sofa, she hurriedly let Crookshanks out of his carrier before he became an unholy terror.

As the cat streaked under the couch with an angry yowl, she perched on the sofa arm. "I mean, why say that?"

"Pardon?" Severus paused at his office door. Noting her expression, he cleared his throat. "I apologize for snapping at you."

"No, not that," she groaned. "Sirius. He made it sound like… like I did something I didn't do."

"Of course, you didn't," he huffed. "Hounding me has been the mongrel's favorite pastime since before you were born."

Hermione shook her head. "Why can't he leave me out of it?"

"To do that, he'd have to give a shit about someone besides himself."

"Yeah," she nudged the rug with her foot. When she finally looked up, he was gone, so she moved her things into her room and readied for bed. Before going to sleep, however, she walked into his office.

Severus looked up from his notes. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to thank you."

"For?"

"For coming to get me," Hermione glanced at the pile of open books on his desk, "even though you were busy today."

"It's fine." When she continued to loiter in the doorway, Snape narrowed his eyes. "Something else?"

She held onto the doorknob for support. "I know I complained – a lot – about having to go to the Gala, and I pestered you with questions and concerns the whole time… but I did actually enjoy the night. It was sort of fun."

Spotting her pink cheeks, he returned to his notes. "It was not as miserable as I recall it being."

Hermione decided to take the comment in the best possible light. "Well, then… good night, Severus."

"Good night," Severus glanced over his shoulder. After she left, he sank back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

xxxXxxx

As her husband emerged from his lab, Hermione rose from the sofa and followed him into the office. When he turned to look at her, she hesitantly smiled. "I know I promised not to bother you, but I wanted to give you this. I meant to on Christmas, but you left before I could."

Severus looked uncomfortable as he took her gift.

"It's not anything special. I didn't know what to get you, so it's boringly practical. I'm sorry."

He snorted before opening it to reveal three leather-bound notebooks. "Thank you."

Hermione nodded. "You're welcome. And please don't –"

"Yours is over there."

She followed his gesture to a small writing desk. Surprised, she moved for a closer look and smoothed her hand over the glossy mahogany. "You really didn't need to do this."

"Before you get too excited, I didn't purchase it. It came out of castle storage. I merely ensured the elves didn't bring down anything hideous."

"It's beautiful."

He rolled his shoulders. "You claimed you needed a place to do homework."

"And you want your desk back," Hermione smirked.

"Indeed." Severus took his seat and picked up his quill. "I was uncertain where you would want it placed, so if you would like it in the sitting room or your bedroom, the elves will trip over themselves to move it."

"Can I leave it here?"

"If you'd like."

Before heading into the sitting room, Hermione hesitantly stepped behind his desk and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

Snape grunted in reply, then eyed her desk. Giving her a workspace within his own was likely a mistake. He needed to minimize distractions, not encourage them. He rubbed his cheek while listening to her chitter at her cat, then growled when he realized what he was doing. Grabbing up his resources, he hauled them down to his lab where he could continue working in peace.

xxxXxxx

"I really don't like this," Hermione whined.

"So you've said," Severus grumbled, "multiple times."

Conscious of the eyes on them, she refrained from glaring. She did, however, squeeze his hand tightly. "I don't really like shopping to begin with, but shopping with Narcissa Malfoy?"

"You agreed to it."

"She mentioned it in front of those gossipy women; how was I to refuse? Besides, I didn't think she was serious in the offer. I thought it was a vague, perhaps someday type of commitment, not a later this week commitment."

Severus smirked. "Narcissa is always serious about shopping."

Her breath caught as he firmly grasped her waist and drew her close to avoid a rowdy group of boys playing. Once past, he released her, but she claimed his arm as well as his hand.

As their agreed upon meeting place was devoid of Malfoys, they claimed an open bench. Still holding his hand, Hermione tucked tightly into his side. "How long? A couple hours?"

"Not if Narcissa sets the timeline. This could be a full day affair."

She whimpered and leaned her head on his arm. "Don't you have a potion to tend? Surely, Professor Dumbledore needs you back this afternoon."

"The Headmaster graciously gave me the day off." Severus let go of her hand and draped his arm behind her. He immediately regretted it when her hands came to rest on his leg.

"The jerk," Hermione sighed.

"Well, don't we look cozy?"

"Lucius," Severus hissed as his wife dug her fingers into his thigh. "I was beginning to hope we could call off this venture."

"Mmmm, yes," Lucius peered at her grip on his lap. "I can see you had something a little more hands-on in mind."

Blushing, Hermione hid behind her husband's frame as they stood.

"In all your excitement to fritter away your fortune, you seem to have misplaced your wife."

Lucius grinned, gesturing to the café. "Ducked into Camellia's to freshen up. Hair came a bit undone during Apparition."

Severus snorted. "You weren't that tardy."

"Quality over quantity, my friend… as I'm sure you're tediously aware."

Grimacing at the thought, Hermione was relieved when Narcissa emerged from the café. The witch arrived perfectly poised – albeit with extra color in her cheeks – and gently greeted them all before asking Hermione about her allowance.

When the girl looked quizzically up at him, Severus sighed. "She's welcome to charge my account. Within reason."

Lucius snickered as his wife frowned, "That simply will not do. Surely you must have some currency on your person."

He met her stare for several seconds before withdrawing a small drawstring bag.

"Lovely," the witch snatched it from his hand.

"I have purchases to make," he sputtered.

"In which case you're welcome to charge your account."

"There are certain items that can only be purchased with currency."

"Indeed, there are," she smiled. "Now, I know how charming you can be after a day out, so to spare your wife some misery, I've made dinner reservations for a less fashionable time. We shall meet you there at six. Come along, dear."

Laughing, Lucius clapped Snape on the back. "Gringotts is hardly out of the way."

"Dinner?" Hermione glanced pleadingly at her husband while being led away.

"Don't fret, dear. We'll find you something suitable to wear." Narcissa smoothly cut across traffic and set out down South Diagon. "Our primary objective, however, requires discretion. We wouldn't want any record spoiling the surprise."

Hermione frowned as she tried to keep up with the witch. "Surprise? What surprise?"

The witch arched an eyebrow. "Kept that from you, has he?"

"Kept what from me?" A foreboding sense settled in her stomach.

"Whether he observes it or not, a wife ought to recognize her husband's birthday." As the door to Twilfitt & Tattings opened, Narcissa politely greeted a few passersby before leading the girl inside. "Which in your case is Friday."

"Friday?" Hermione repeated quietly as she glanced about the store. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a ruffled, lace ensemble she suspected would traumatize Snape.

"Oh, Lady Malfoy!" the saleswitch swept over to them. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Gertrude, may I introduce Madam Snape."

"Oh, of course!" the woman beamed. "A privilege to have your patronage."

Hermione smiled tightly, certain her budget would prevent much patronage at all. Perhaps a pair of gloves or a scarf – if they were on sale.

"We have an appointment with Angelique," Narcissa removed her gloves. "However, we may return later this afternoon should we have time."

"Oh, very good," Gertrude winked before returning to her abandoned customer.

"Come along!"

Confused, Hermione hustled after the pureblood witch. "What are we looking for?"

"You won't have another chance to purchase a gift before term starts."

Hermione sighed as they moved toward the back corner of the shop. "He never said anything about his birthday. I don't know what he would want."

Narcissa snorted delicately. "What every wizard wants."

The young witch glanced about at the fancy displays of stockings surrounding them. "Socks?"

"Oh, you are quaint, aren't you?" Narcissa tittered, pulling back a velvet curtain to reveal a spiral staircase. "Think a different vowel, dear."

"What?" Hermione followed her upstairs to a brightly lit room filled with lace, satin, velvet, and just a tasteful amount of leather. Her face flushed and stomach twisted. "Oh."

"Madame Malfoy!" Angelique, an elaborately coiffed blonde who could have been a Delacour relative, appeared from the dressing rooms. "I was just setting up a room with some… oh, Madame Snape, welcome! I am honored to serve you and…perhaps, assist the True Love?"

As the witch giggled, Hermione suppressed the urge to flee with a whimper. Oh, Severus so owes me for this.

xxxXxxx

Do not hyperventilate. You can get through this. It isn't torture; it's just a nightgown.

Hermione squawked to her feet at another knock on the doorframe. "Just a moment!"

Her original plan to simply pretend to try things on had been quickly scuttled after Angelique proved just how willing she was to assist.

"Alright," she called after verifying everything was covered.

The heavy velvet curtain parted just enough to admit the saleswitch. "Oh, magnifique! Though I think a little long, no?"

"A little long?" Hermione glanced down in surprise as the witch magically altered the nightgown to remove two inches. Looking in the mirror, she begrudgingly acknowledged it was a more flattering cut.

"Now, since you say he prefers the blue, I have something for the sweet and something for the bold." She held up a powder blue silk chemise trimmed with silver lace, followed by one in midnight blue lace accentuated with black ribbon. "However, I cannot get the dress out of my head, so I have brought you the emerald as well."

Hermione watched her hang up each offering, then glanced at the few remaining in the witch's hand. "I don't know if he'd like red."

"Oh, these are not for you," Angelique smirked, adjusting the crimson nightgowns. "I shall return momentarily."

As soon as she was alone, the girl covered her face and groaned. She absolutely did not need to know what Narcissa wore to bed. "Can this day get any worse?"

xxxXxxx

Uncomfortable with the amount of cleavage revealed, Hermione was about to change when another knock sounded. She bid the saleswitch entrance, then startled when Narcissa also entered the small room. With a squeak, the girl crossed her arms over her chest.

"Tut, tut," Angelique gently moved her hands before adjusting the bustline. With a few flicks of her wand, she shortened the straps, then shook out the sheer skirt. "There. Much improved."

"You never disappoint, Angelique," Narcissa appraised the items selected.

"Merci," the witch curtseyed before taking pity on the embarrassed girl and handing her one of the nightrobes.

Just breathe. You're fine. Hermione hurriedly tied the satin robe closed and crossed her arms.

"I think at least one more robe," Narcissa instructed. "She'll also need a few standard pieces; poor girl had no time to build a trousseau before the wedding, and Severus has scarcely let her out of his sight since."

Angelique winked at Hermione. "He'll be even more loathe to part with you now."

"On that note, we'll need you to find us something special for a birthday celebration."

As the saleswitch eagerly departed on her mission, Hermione gaped at Narcissa. "I thought one of these was…"

"These? Oh, no – these are simply missing from your wardrobe."

"You don't mean all of them? I can't…" she shook her head. "No, I can't."

"Nonsense. I know how much he gave you, and Angelique is working within that budget. Severus is far more miserly than he need be for himself, let alone for a wife. He is responsible for ensuring you are adequately attired. Even for his station, your wardrobe is abysmally small."

Gods, how am I going to explain this? Hermione sank onto the cushioned bench, then looked up a moment later. "How do you know what's missing from my wardrobe?"

The pureblood arched an eyebrow. "You think Severus devised any aspect of your anniversary outing?"

Hermione swallowed in discomfort. It had never crossed her mind that Snape had let someone – let alone a Malfoy – into her bedroom to go through her clothing. Shivering, she felt even more exposed than she currently was.

"Men are visual creatures," Narcissa peeked out of the dressing room before pulling the curtain tight. "Severus may grumble but it should take very little convincing on your part for him to see the value in this investment. It should solve quite a bit of his grumbling."

And we're back to his temper being my responsibility. The girl rolled her eyes.

"Have you read the book I sent you?"

"Not all of it."

"Goodness, girl, you don't need all of it," she exclaimed. "You'd probably kill him."

Hermione frowned before realization hit. "Oh. I haven't read that one."

"Therein lies the problem," Narcissa muttered, claiming the seat beside her. "If you cannot manage to read about it, how could you –"

Embarrassed by the turn in conversation, the girl snapped, "I can't read a book I don't have."

Narcissa eyed her strangely then sat back. "What did he do with it?"

"Threw it in the fireplace."

The witch laughed in annoyance. "If that's the case, the idiot has no right to complain."

Hermione could hear her heart pounding in her ears. "Complain?"

"I believe he may have used the word tedious." Noting the girl's face, Narcissa sighed. "He hasn't said anything to you?"

Wanting to vanish, the girl shook her head.

"Some professor he is," Narcissa stood. "How can one expect improvement if no feedback is provided?"

That's what he told them? Hermione stared at the floor. Eyes stinging, she now recalled Lucius emphasizing the cursed word multiple times in her presence and knew it must be true. She had spent the last four days distracted by thoughts of snogging her husband senseless, and he was out there whinging about how disappointing she was in bed.

"Now that you know, you can punish him… or you can simply prove him wrong. I personally prefer to accomplish both whenever possible."

With a knock, Angelique reappeared, holding up a dark blue bustier with matching knickers. "What we think?"

"That ought to get your point across," Narcissa commented before gracefully making her exit.

xxxXxxx

Had Hermione been less preoccupied, she would have been amused by how Narcissa's sneer deepened with every creak of the stairs. The sneer was replaced by a look of surprise upon entering dress shop, but the witch tempered her expression before the proprietor emerged.

"Hello, Hermione!" Jazz paused in shock before giving a clumsy curtsy. "Lady Malfoy, it's an honor. Oh, erm, Jasmeria Blom at your service."

The blonde moved slowly, scrutinizing the nearest racks. "Madam Snape tells me you designed her Gala gown."

"Designed and crafted."

Narcissa turned to face her. "You sewed it yourself? No elves?"

"I don't have any elves, madam. I had some assistance with the underlayers, but everything visible was my work."

"Assistance from whom?"

Jazz glanced nervously at Hermione before answering, "Nymphadora Tonks. We apprenticed together with Madam Malkin."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Does Miss Tonks often assist you, Miss Blom?"

"No, madam. In this instance, I knew I alone would be unable to complete it to satisfaction within five days."

"Five days," Narcissa tilted her head. "Impressive. And you personally crafted each of these?"

"Thank you. And yes."

"Madam Snape informed me of the arrangement you made regarding payment for the dress. Has your business significantly increased given the considerable amount of press she's received?"

"Well, I've had many inquiries based on the exposure."

"But no additional purchases."

The witch winced. "Not many. Yet."

Hermione felt her stomach drop to the floor. Snape's going to kill me before I have the chance to kill Tonks.

"Do you often make such arrangements?"

Jazz shook her head. "I almost didn't agree to this one."

"Almost doesn't prevent bankruptcy. Do not make that mistake again." When the dressmaker nodded, Narcissa removed her gloves. "You have other designs?"

With some trepidation, the dressmaker led them back to her small studio. Jazz and Hermione exchanged several anxious glances while Narcissa meticulously looked through designs, prototypes, and material. When the witch requested to see financial records, Hermione was uncertain what was more surprising – the audacity of her request, or the speed at which Jazz supplied her books.

Eventually, Narcissa took a sip of her tea. "Well, Miss Blom, no one can doubt your talent. Your designs are flattering and innovative – too daring for traditionalists, but that's neither here nor there – and your work is of decent quality. That said, I suspect you'll be out of business by June."

Seeing the pallor on the dressmaker's face, Hermione felt nauseous. When Narcissa had questioned her about the dress at tea, she had not anticipated they would spend the afternoon ripping apart the woman's fledgling business. Who's going to kill me first: Snape or Tonks?

"Foolish arrangements aside, you're paying too much for fabric and severely undercharging for your work." Narcissa held up a hand to prevent protest. "I understand you fear pricing yourself out of your current market, but you are also not capitalizing on the handcrafted nature of your product. You have too much inventory and should be focusing on custom design.

"The rent here is low, I grant you, but this location hinders your profit more than you realize. Third floor behind the menagerie, invisible from the street?" she shook her head. "Your showroom is well-appointed but that only matters if you get customers in the door. Those who could regularly purchase clothing at the rate at which you should be charging want to be seen patronizing the shop as much as they want to be seen in what they purchased."

As the dressmaker nodded glumly, Narcissa continued, "This brings me to your greatest mistake. Your mother gifted you the name of a designer; use it. Put it on the door, stitch it on your clothes, and it will find its way into conversation."

"Thank you, Lady Malfoy," Jasmeria smiled. "I will."

Narcissa picked up a quill and elegantly scratched out a note, which she then slid across the table. "Reginald procures exceptionally fine textiles. Give him my name, and he'll supply you at a more reasonable rate than you're currently paying."

The young woman touched the note reverently, and Hermione felt some of her nausea dissipating.

"My agent will enquire as to available spaces in Diagon proper. Before investing further, however, I need to know you can handle the demands of higher caliber clientele." Narcissa held her teacup and saucer steady as she sat back in her chair. "For myself, I would like to see two designs each for daywear, an evening out, and a high-society event. I would like to see the same for Madam Snape."

Hermione snapped her head up.

"I'll give you until month's end to produce your drawings and compensate you fairly for your time. Should any of them meet my approval, I will place an order." Narcissa cleared her throat. "I trust this absolves Madam Snape of her debt."

Jazz blinked out of her stupor. "Oh, yes, of course! This is more than I ever expected, Lady Malfoy."

Expelling a relieved breath, Hermione finally picked up her tea. She sank back in her seat, half-listening to the two women discussing additional details. No longer afraid of facing her husband after bankrupting him, she found herself again angered by his disparagement of her alleged sexual prowess. It was humiliating to know Lucius Malfoy had been secretly mocking her for it while not-so-secretly deriding her heritage.

"Before we leave, might you have something for Madam Snape to wear to dinner this evening?"

As the witch excused herself to find a few options, Narcissa glanced over at Hermione. "I will purchase it. If I do decide to sponsor her, I want more of her work to have been seen."

Feeling emboldened, Hermione straightened in her seat. "You don't need to do that. After all, he said I was welcome to charge his account."

"So, he did," Narcissa grinned conspiratorially over her teacup. She then set it down and instructed Hermione to follow her. "Miss Blom, how quickly can you finish that pewter cocktail piece?"

"A few hours?"

She checked her watch. "If you can have it done by five-thirty, we'll return after our salon appointment."

"Won't we be late for dinner?" Hermione asked as they descended the stairs.

"Lucius will claim the table, and the two of them can sit there and stare at each other until we're good and ready. Let them sort out which one is in trouble. I will cover your dress since it will have an expedited fee, but you'll need a coat."

"There was a blue one at Twillfit & Tattings…"

"Precisely what I was thinking." Narcissa glanced down at the girl's feet before exiting the building. "And then we'll find you some shoes."