Draco Malfoy and the most Forbidden of Curses -Chapter 3-
When Draco opened his eyes, they were standing at the threshold of a room so elaborate that it made the Great Hall in Hogwarts look like merely a large tavern in comparison. Everything — that didn't breathe or wasn't edible — was gold, and what wasn't gold, was obsidian. Each table was lit by a candelabra encrusted with more different types of brightly colored gems than Draco had imagined ever existed. Each table also had a small legion of staff attending to the diner's needs. It looked like pinnacle of extravagance, suitable for only royalty and living gods.
He looked down. His arms were still wrapped around Hermione, but it was different.
The muggle attire she had been wearing before had been replaced by a short dress of violet satin that curved tightly to the shape of her body. Black lace stretched across her neck and shoulders, winding its way down to her wrists.
Draco no longer felt his wand in his hand, and then he noticed the silver cufflinks on his black sleeve. He had never put them on, he knew that for certain; and they looked expensive, really expensive. His eyes followed the sleeve to the sharp black tux he found himself wearing, with a shiny silver tie with stripes of dark violet that matched Hermione's colors.
Their eyes quickly met, she looked as shocked and confused as he felt.
"Ah, yes… table for two. Mr. and Mrs. Salwise, right this way please. I'm Belden, and I'll be your host for this evening, and must say, you both look absolutely fabulous," a dark-skinned man with a curled mustache said as he approached. Draco and Hermione's eyes quickly shifted from each other to the man. He met their gaze with a wide, toothy smile.
"What? Who — we're not Mr. and Mrs. Sal — whatever," Draco snapped.
"Very funny Mr. Salwise," Belden replied, trying to ignore the comment. "Now if you would be so kind as to follow me this —"
"I'm not following you anywhere!" Draco growled. "Now be gone!"
"Mr. Salwise, please… forgive my criticism, but that is a poor joke," the host explained civilly.
"I said I'm not whoever that is!" Draco spat. "Now leave me alone, muggle, before I —"
"Mr. Salwise, enough, please," the host explained. "We are an exclusive restaurant of the highest quality. If you were indeed serious, that would mean that you somehow bypassed our security and we would have to call the police."
"Do whatever, I'm not afraid of your uniformed muggles, I'm leaving!" Draco snarled.
"You're not afraid of dementors?" the host asked, tilting his head with concern.
"Dementors?" Draco replied, leaning back in surprise. "How do you know about — "
"I apologize for my… husband's twisted sense of humor. We'll take the table now, thank you!" Hermione interrupted with a forced tone of friendliness and even more blatantly forced smile.
"Excellent, right this way please," Belden said suspiciously.
"What are you doing?" Draco hissed.
"If you want to keep your soul, then you play your part. Or just shut up then if that's too much for you to handle!" Hermione hissed as the followed the host across the elaborate room.
Despite the enormous size of their table, the adjacent two golden chairs adorned with red velvet cushions were placed awfully close together.
Two goblets already awaited them, each filled with iced water.
Draco grabbed the goblet as soon as he sat down, drinking deeply, hardly even noticing the dark haired server approaching, despite the fact that he was tall enough to be a half-giant.
"Mr. Salwise, would either you or your lovely wife be interested in Elderflower wine?" the server asked formally.
Half of the water in Draco's mouth went across the table; the other half went down his windpipe.
"Is he okay?" the server asked Hermione as they both watched Draco cough loudly.
He'll be fine," Hermione replied with strained courtesy, "He's having one of his 'narrowly escaping the consequences of his own actions,' moments."
"Yes — to the — wine," Draco forced out through wheezing coughs.
"Me, as well, thank you," Hermione said in a friendly tone that Draco knew for certain was fake.
"Where are we? How did we get there? Where is the Dark Lord? Where are the Death Eaters that were storming Hogwarts? Where even is Hogwarts?" Draco thought, his mind racing.
Draco started across the table at Hermione. Her mouth matched the illusion of fondness in her voice, but her eyes clearly said she wanted to kill him.
Why is Hermione the only one besides me who knows what is going on? Draco thought as his eyes darted around the room, finally returning to Hermione. And how am I… married to her?
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