Sugar and Spice

chapter 19

Hermione glared at the stone fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place.

She could do this. She would do this.

Any moment now...

Her shoulders slumped on a groan. Throw the powder, step inside, say the location, poof. Merlin, she'd done it more times than she could count. Not that she loved traveling by Floo, but it wasn't the process she dreaded.

Malfoy Manor.

Never had she traveled there, not on purpose, and that was the sticking point. Speaking of sticking, the powder pinched between her fingers had started to clump from the dampness of her hands. Stupid nerves manifesting in the least ideal ways. Surreptitiously, she lifted an elbow, checking her underarms. At least that charm had stuck. The last thing she needed was to sweat through her robes and greet Narcissa Malfoy with pit stains.

Three loud chimes sounded from the clock above the mantel. The second to last thing she needed was to be late after she'd expressly told Narcissa she'd her availability. Stepping into the fireplace, Hermione tossed the Floo powder to the ground. "Malfoy Manor."

A flash of green and a whooshing sensation later, Hermione staggered slightly as she stepped out of the fireplace and on to the marble floor before the hearth.

"Careful." Two arms gathered her slightly, setting her to rights. Draco smiled down at her. "You made it."

Call it a hunch, but it wasn't likely Draco was speaking to the efficacy of the Floo Network. Her lips quirked to the side ruefully. "It was touch and go for a moment."

A throat cleared from over Draco's shoulder as Theo stepped into view. Lifting his finger to his nose and tapping it gently, he grinned. "You've got a little something..."

"Oh." She rifled in her pocket for her wand and cast a quick scourgify to get rid of the soot. "Better?"

Theo nodded. "Not that it wasn't cute, mind you."

"Well, thank you anyway," she said, tucking her wand away once more. "Covered in soot wasn't exactly how I wanted to greet Narcissa."

Speaking of which, where was Draco's mother? For that matter, where was she? She took a moment to look around, steeling herself carefully.

Merlin, Draco was right. The place was different. Walls covered in cream wallpaper with a subtle champagne-colored damask design converged into a lofty, arched ceiling—an enchanted ceiling, it appeared, as the painting swirled and danced above them. Three sparkling chandeliers bathed the room in a warm glow that brought out the flecks of gold in the marble floor. The place was breathtaking and not at all what she'd expected.

"What do you think?" Draco tucked his hands inside his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Different, no?"

"It's..." She spun in a circle, taking it all in. "Are you certain this is the same place?"

Theo and Draco both laughed.

"Quite certain," Draco said.

"When you said airy, I was thinking—"

"Drafty?" Theo chuckled.

She shook her head. "I don't know what I was thinking, but this is a bit more Rococo than I had imagined. In a good way, I mean."

A little ornate for her taste, perhaps, but it was hard to go minimalist with a space this size without it looking barren.

Draco inclined his head. "A nod to our French roots, I imagine was my mother's thinking. The art upon the ceiling tells the tale of how Salazar Slytherin and several other families, mine included, migrated from Normandy in the Eleventh century. "