"Draco, I have a present for you."
Bellatrix pulled Draco towards the cells, grinning in a way that churned his stomach. She opened the fifth door, and the world dropped away from his feet. She was dead. He had seen her die, hell everyone had seen her die. Harry had thrown unforgivable curses at everyone as Ron struggled to drag him away. Looking at her now, he wasn't sure if death would have been easier.
The low light from the hall shimmered from the broken glass across her back as it moved in shallow breaths.
"How is a nearly dead mudblood a present Bellatrix? Am I to watch her death throes?"
Her cackling laugh echoed through the room, Hermione's breath hitched, ever so slightly.
"No, I had that nasty snake Snape heal her. You have been so down, and you did good in helping to identify Potter." Her face turned a nasty shade of red, "The Dark Lord agrees you should be rewarded. She is your reward, do with her what you will." She trailed one lingering finger down my shoulder, "Though I would suggest peeling from her every speck of information about Potter from her first."
Mind swirling, Draco responded, his tone light. "If you wish me to pump her for information I will need a wand, and somewhere to be alone. If she really is a present as you say, then I require," he paused for dramatic effect, "privacy."
"But of course," she cooed, "Remember this though, the Dark Lord has not forgotten your last mistake, someone will be checking in to be sure you are," her voice turned sharp, "performing as you should be."
Draco eyed her, disgust quaking his fingers and curling his toes. He turned back to the limp figure. "But of course."
Hermione dragged her eyes open. The conversation going on in the doorway of her cell terrified her. Keeping her breathing even she began to observe what she could; the vile smell of feces and urine scared her nose, while the soft whimpers of others floated in. Her thick hair obscured her vision, and listening to Bellatrix gift her away to Malfoy, she dared not move.
Focusing in on the conversation concerning herself Hermione began to strategize. The clicking of heels, and the swish of a skirt signaled the absence of Bellatrix. Hermione had not heard Malfoy leave, remaining frozen. The sick sound of flesh colliding with stone caused a flinch in Hermione.
Soft, whispered words reached her ears. "How the hell are you going to get out of this one Draco?"
A beat, two, three of silence and heavy footfalls moved away from the cell, the door swung closed.
Bellatrix had delivered, a replacement wand from the one that Harry had stolen from him laid across his nightstand. Snatching it up Draco flung a spell across the room, the chest of drawers exploded. Wincing at the destruction, he quickly followed it up with a repairo. When both spells worked well he nodded once and began to dress. Thoughts of Granger had kept Draco tossing in bed until nearly dawn. Peeking a glance through the curtains he found the day nearly over.
A loud crack from the doorway, brought Draco's snarl into place before he had even managed to complete this turn. The small elf, small even for elves, cowered away from the snarl.
Draco did not drop the snarl upon recognizing the elf, simply waited for her to spit out her orders.
"Mistress Bellatrix gave instructions to be delivered when the young master awoke. May Trissa deliver the instructions now?" the small thing shuddered with each breath, and squeaked through every other word.
"Well, spit it out then."
Trissa squeaked again, eyes flashing up and back down to her feet. "The young master is to visit his prisoner once a day for at least two hours. He must have a n piece of information at least once every three days. Care of personal needs is also leftto the young master, with holding food can be a useful torture tool. The young master is to be aware that visits from the Dark Lord's servants could come at any time, and young master is to be having a new piece of information every three days."
Draco's snarl morphed into a blend of a grimace and a sneer.
"Did Bellatrix arrange a room for my prisoner?"
Trissa shuddered, "No sir, she gave only instructions before leaving the manor."
"Go, I am done with you." Draco threw curse at his chest of drawers leaving the destruction as he exited the room.
Finding an empty room in the manor proved to be a challenge, nearly every empty room housed a different death eater who had been favored by Voldemort. Draco finally stumbled upon a small servant quarters on the top floor. Bare except for dust and a bed so old it could have been an original, Draco nodded at the arrangement. Casting a few silencing spells, as well as the locking spell that could be found on every cell in the basement Draco deemed the room ready for its new resident. After another searching look through the room, Draco placed an alert charm on the door.
Someone would be checking on Granger, meaning he would have to torture her. He couldnot bear to end the life of an old man, would have to physically harm the girl who had beat him at everything, best friend of the chosen one, the mudblood who challenged him often enough to form a begrudging respect. The heave of his stomach sent him to the nearest bathroom.
Dragging a hand across the back of his mouth he stared at his own sickly reflection. What a waste of space.
Hermione limped around the room, ribs screaming with each breath. She had done all she could to open the door, but as bright as she was, without her wand she struggled to perform an alohomora strong enough to break the locking charm. The fact she could hardly breathe didn't help her in escaping. Her mind whirled as she thought of other options, and how she would need to be ready for when Ron and Harry invariably burst into her cell to free her from Malfoy Manor. She knew they would search every room until they found her.
During another slow circuit around the room, the door opened. Hermione jumped, startled at the unexpected sound. She landed, her foot sending a spike of pain up her spine, spinning on the opposite foot she found Malfoy, not Ron and Harry as she had expected. His pale skin showed a sickly pallor and a sheen of sweat. Hermione sent a glare that could rival that of Mcgonnagall's his way. Not even a flinch.
"Out." Malfoy's wand hand twitched.
Hermione bit down a retort,smart enough not to antagonize him yet. She exited her small cell, leaving a good meter between them. He glared in return, his eyes devoid of emotion.
"We are going up." He brought his wand up, flicking it towards her as he spoke.
Hermione turned and began walking, doing her best to hide her limp, hyperaware of the wand at her back. She passed a few more cells, the sounds and smells causing an immediate gag reflex. Beyond the cells were a small set of rickety stairs that creaked dangerously when she placed a foot on them. Hermione paused, concerned about the safety of the stairs when Malfoy's wand prodded her spine.
"Fine, stop pushing me!" she hissed under her breath moving up the stairs.
Four flights of stairs later, Hermione whimpered as she curled an arm to her ribs, struggling to breathe.
"On the left, last door."
Hermione trudged to the last door, her ankle had swollen during the trip up the stairs. As she stepped through the tingle of magic caressed her skin. Trapped again. Malfoy followed her in, closing the door behind him. Hermione took a moment to search the room, bare walls, dust caked floor, and a bed so old it looked like it would fall apart from a bad wind formed the entirety of the space. Limping to the bed she sat down and stared up at Malfoy. He met her gaze, an unknown emotion flickering through his eyes.
His breath hitched, faced paled, and something that seemed almost like fear flashed across his face before he fled the room slamming the door behind. The slam rang in Hermione's ears.