Narcissa rolled her eyes for the seventh time that evening and she'd barely made it past the first hour of the party. She loved balls and lush dance feasts, but gatherings such as these that had far too many people packed together tightly with ghastly music that was blasting so loud she could feel her organs tremble in her body? Those she hated.
But it was a yearly occasion she underwent because it was the day they celebrated winning the war. The fact that it was hosted by the Boy Who Lived only added to the unspoken obligation to attend it once invited. The first time had been dreadful, with people refusing to acknowledge her presence. But lately it was more annoying than anything, shoulders and elbows bumping into her and almost making her wish she'd stayed an outcast.
Of course being accepted back into the Wizarding Community had its perks. Draco especially had thrived, finding a good job and a good wife and she was happy for him. His friendship with Potter had been unexpected, but then again, the entire foundation of the Witching World had been shaken to its core. Pureblood Supremacy simply didn't exist anymore and while the magical people still kept their existence hidden from the muggles, the reluctance to learn about them had lessened significantly.
Narcissa passed a hovering tray with champagne and snatched a flute from it, sighing when she noticed that Harry hadn't taken her up on her advice to forego the plastic glasses and exchange them for crystal ones. She scrunched up her nose as the flavour of the bubbles was affected by the cheap flute and eyed the butterbeers on another tray. Maybe they'd taste better? A hand on her shoulder startled her and when she turned, she was met with the green eyes of the host himself.
"Miss Black! How nice of you to join us!"
Narcissa refrained from rolling her eyes again. How many times had she told Harry to call her by her first name already? She braced herself for his traditional speech, thanking her once more for her actions during the war, but instead he leaned closer and whispered.
"I feel obliged to warn you... The twins have boobytrapped the entire place with pranks."
This time the blonde groaned. The last time she'd been the subject to one of those famous pranks, she'd ended up soaked to the bone her white jumpsuit rendered entirely see-through. Her cheeks coloured again just from remembering the embarrassment she'd felt at the entire Weasley family gawking at her in shock.
“As if this house isn’t a giant trap on its own,” she scoffed against the black-haired wizard.
Harry and Ginny had done their very best making Grimmauld Place a cozy home, but they still hadn’t managed to break all the dark magic that had entwined itself within the walls during the many years it had been Black property. Mister Potter just shrugged at the woman before seeing another guest had arrived and making his way over to them.
Narcissa saw a flash of identical red and threw two wandless and worldess jinxes at the Weasley twins in front of her. They yelped, but judging by the huge grins on their faces, they weren’t very impressed with madame Black’s wrath. The blonde waved a pale finger at them.
“What have you two scoundrels done this year?”
“We have no idea what you’re on about,” one of them replied causing Narcissa to squint her eyes.
“Now listen here, George,” she began but the other redhead cut her off.
“I’m George. He’s Fred! Honestly woman, you call yourself a changed witch? You can’t even tell us apart.”
Narcissa gritted her teeth and started anew, “apologies, Fred -”
“Just kidding,” they both snickered while pointing at each other, “he’s George and I’m Fred.”
They slapped each other on the shoulder, seemingly unperturbed by the terribly exasperated witch in front of them before their expressions turned serious.
“We’re not going to tell you, Narcissa. We do it to honor Percy.”
“I highly doubt your brother would have found it very amusing,” Narcissa argued, knowing how prim and poised their stuck-up brother had been before his demise at the Battle of Hogwarts.
But the twins waved her away, “nonsense! Just… don’t dawdle on the staircases.”
And with that, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving Narcissa on her own, desperate for another flute of foul-tasting champagne. She turned towards a floating tray only to see her son pick up two flutes and head over towards her. He smiled his very familiar I’m-too-polite-to-leave-early smile at her and sipped his champagne, snickering when his mother downed hers.
“That bad, huh?”
“I would enjoy myself a lot better if there were less people here, and if the music wouldn’t give me a headache, and if I could walk around without fearing a Weasley Wizard Wheeze befalling on me.”
Draco winced slightly, “don’t even go there. I’ve been battling the curtain for twenty minutes after it decided to keep me in a chokehold.”
“I’m not even sure that’s one of their jokes or just the house acting up,” Narcissa said with an amused smirk.
Before Draco could answer his mother, someone bumped into him causing him to spill champagne all over his pants. He cursed, licking the liquid of the sigil around his finger as he treasured the family heirloom given to him the day his father died. When he saw who bumped into him, he paled even further and Narcissa knew who it was without turning around. Her son had always been impressed, verging on scared, by this particular witch.
“Draco! Did you wet your pants or are you just happy to see me?”
Pale cheeks immediately flushed scarlet as Draco started explaining to Hermione that he merely spilled champagne, but the witch who was obviously a bit drunk unsheathed her wand.
“Lemme fix that for you.”
She clumsily twirled it and Draco’s pants immediately dried up making him yelp when there was a puff of smoke coming from his groin, “stop that Granger!”
He gave her a little shove and Hermione flailed. She would have fallen over if Narcissa hadn’t braced her by grasping her hips. When Hermione saw the blonde witch standing next to her, it was her time to blush crimson. Her wand fell on the floor with a hollow sounding clatter causing Narcissa to raise an eyebrow.
“Miss Granger, not used to wearing heels?” Narcissa picked up the offending wand and handed it back to its owner.
“Not used to being so close to a gorgeous witch more like.”
She immediately slapped her hands in front of her mouth, her eyes wide in shock. Draco stopped flapping his hands at his crotch and stiffened when he saw the smirk on his mother’s face appear.
“This isn’t happening,” he groaned, “Granger what on earth is the matter with you?”
Hermione sighed, “I’m afraid I drank one of the Weasley’s Drunk Drama potions. They make you drunk and cause -“
“Drama?” Narcissa provided while stifling her laughter.
“By making me tell the truth,” Hermione concluded, “sorry about almost burning your balls off, Draco.”
The wizard tugged at his collar, but Hermione had already shifted her attention towards Narcissa who gave the girl an approving look. Hermione had definitely aged well, her tanned skin showed light freckles but was otherwise smooth apart from the light wrinkles around her eyes when she smiled. Her curly hair had been tamed somewhat and lay in an intricate braid across her shoulder while her amber eyes seemed to have gone wilder instead. They shimmered with intellect, curiosity, but also mischief and Narcissa liked it.
“The truth, huh? So you think I’m attractive?”
“Errrrm,” Draco tried to intervene, “remember when I said how receiving the Dark Mark was my worst nightmare? Scratch that. This is! Stop flirting this instant, mother!”
Narcissa gave her son an annoyed look, “darling, don’t be absurd. I’m just having fun.”
“Well at least Granger has an excuse. You do not,” Draco huffed.
He clasped his mother by the elbow and steered her away from Hermione who muttered something about Narcissa’s ass being lovely in the dress she wore, while informing her that they were going to dance.
“But I want to talk to Miss Granger!”
“Not a chance, mother! She’s gay and I don’t trust her around you in her current state.”
Narcissa felt her eyes roll in their sockets yet again, “we’re both adults!”
But Draco couldn’t be persuaded and Hermione bit her lip as she saw the most beautiful witch at the entire party disappear from view. She staggered towards the staircase on her heels, desperate to kick them off and scowled at her own expression in the stale mirror in the hallway. How she would hex Fred and George into oblivion for making her look like a fool…
She decided to find an empty bedroom and sleep off the worst of the potion. With any luck she could still enjoy a few hours of the party with a less clouded mind before it ended. Hermione sighed gratefully upon finding the first bedroom she tried empty and slipped out of her shoes. The coolness of the wood against her bare skin made her shiver but she crashed onto the sheets quickly succumbing to a deep slumber.
Nearly two hours later, Narcissa had managed to escape her son’s watchful gaze as she wrangled herself through the crowd that had only seemed to have grown in number since last time she paid attention to it. If Potter gained any more popularity, he’d better rent the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the blonde thought to herself.
After a few attempts to dance to the dreadful noise the youth dared to call music, Narcissa had developed such a headache she was aching for a lie-down in a dark room. Granted the cheap champagne hadn’t helped her case much and the lack of fresh air only worsened the dull throbbing in her skull. Salazar, I’m getting old, Narcissa despaired silently.
She finally found the staircase, convinced the house was changing its lay-out just to show its malcontent towards the party and started climbing it with her eyes almost entirely closed. The soft breathing of the portraits behind their curtains made her uneasy and when she thought she heard her name, she stalled. A fatal error.
“Do not dawdle on the staircase…”
The words of the Weasley twins echoed through her mind just when the boobytrap activated and lifted her upside down by her ankle. Her surprised shriek woke the portraits who immediately screamed how she had betrayed the family and how her choice of underwear was everything but becoming in a witch of her standards. While she desperately tried to keep herself covered up by pushing against her dress, she was catapulted into a bedroom landing on the floor with a dull thud.
“Ouch,” she rubbed her ass cheeks before hoisting herself from the ground and tugging the doorknob, but it appeared to be locked.
In front of her was a variety of potions and sweets, each with a description scribbled down onto a note. Narcissa frowned as she tried to read the instructions above them without having to cast a lumos knowing the bright light would be the end of her.
Alas you have been locked away
For the remainder of this day
If you wish to rejoin the party beyond this door
Then you must fulfill this one chore
Eat a sweet or drink a potion
Cast a spell or rub a lotion
You are the victim of a Weasley Wizard Wheeze
And must now do as we please
Gain your freedom but pay the cost
Or remain here, alone and lost
Narcissa snorted at the ridiculous poem and turned her head to better read the descriptions. There were sweets that would turn her complexion blue and bonbons that would have her burping all night. One of the potions would cause her to sing everything she said, while a strange-sounding spell would make her apparate around the place without her being able to control it. She sighed at the childishness of the prank.
Joke’s on them, she thought as she suddenly noticed the bed across the room and walked towards it. She wouldn’t mind a little nap and accidentally miss out on the party. Someone would surely find her at the end of it and release her from her predicament without any embarrassing situations. Grateful for the darkness, peace, and quiet, she stepped into the bed and closed her eyes not noticing the sleeping body next to her at all.
Hermione yawned when she opened her eyes and needed a moment to orientate herself. The muttered sounds coming from below her made her remember she was at Harry’s party. She quickly cast a tempus and startled at the hour. She had slept almost the entire party away! Hermione cursed and turned around in the bed to get out when a hand suddenly touched her back.
She yelped and immediately drew her wand while flipping around at lightning speed. Before she realized it was Narcissa who’d been sleeping next to her and had accidentally touched her by rolling over herself, the woman’s sharp blue eyes shot open. Startled Narcissa swatted the wand away and Hermione dove after it, but the former Malfoy Matriarch had much the same idea causing their heads to collide mid-air.
“Ooft,” they said in unison before collapsing on top of each other.
Hermione panicked. Hard. And started squirming in an attempt to free herself from the mass of limbs in the bed. Instead, she managed to twist herself and Narcissa into the bedsheets causing the still sleepdrunk blonde to plummet into the mattress a second time. Hair was being yanked, sides were being elbowed and the room quicky filled with wrestling sounds and muffled shrieks. Just when Narcissa was about to instruct Hermione to don’t fucking move, the door swung open.
“Mother, are you in here? I’ve been looking for you everywh- AARGH!”
Draco covered his eyes upon finding his mother on top of Hermione, hair muzzled and lipstick smeared. Narcissa immediately scrambled, but the sheets had a mind of their own and she lost her balance.
“Draco,” she said while trying to stabilize herself, “it’s not what you think!”
The blonde wizard’s eyes bulged from their sockets as his mother’s hand landed on Hermione’s boob and squeezed, “MOTHER!”
“No,” Narcissa flushed as Hermione moaned, “that was an accident. I lost my bala- Draco, stop being so dramatic! There’s a perfectly acceptable explanation for this.”
Hermione finally seemed to remember she was a witch and pointed her wand she’d recovered with wandless and wordless magic towards the bedsheets. Both women groaned in relief when the python grip on their legs was released. Blue eyes looked at amber ones in amusement and Hermione felt the last remnants of her Drunk Drama potion take control.
“This is my second favorite thing to wake up to I think.”
Narcissa tilted her head, “what’s the first one?”
“Same situation, but without clothes.”
They ignored Draco’s pained wails as they got out of bed and smoothed the creases in their clothes. Narcissa shoved her son out of the room, instructing him to have the Floo ready for departure before turning to the Gryffindor witch who’d been blushing fiercely after her little confession.
“You know,” Narcissa said, twisting a brown curl between her fingers, “perhaps that can be arranged.”
Hermione blinked watching Narcissa leave the party before realizing that for the first time in her life, she’d thank Fred and George for their shenanigans. She smiled as her heart roared in her chest.