Chapter 1

Hermione paced in front of the fireplace, her long robes dragging behind her on the silk carpet, a parchment lightly between her fingertips. Her hair hung down in soft curls as a lush cascade down her back.

"What does this mean?" she asked Lady Nott, who sat on the settee with a look of concern marring the features of the older woman that was her mother in law.

"I think you must go, dear," the woman said, her voice thin, distress clearly making it so.

Crossing her arms around her, the parchment crumpled in the process and Hermione continued to pace. What did this mean, this summons? She wasn't welcome at court; she never had been. Theo's marriage to her had more or less been ignored, but now that he'd died, this summons had come, for her specifically.

Voldemort's court still held the deepest disdain for mudbloods, although they had lost interested in specifically subjugating and terrorizing them now. That aim had been well achieved and most had been relegated to the life of peasants in this new world Voldemort had created.

"As Theo's widow, and the mother to the next Lord… I suppose he is Lord Nott now," Lady Nott said softly, her grief breaking through. They had only buried Theo a week ago—a week of bleakness unlike any she had felt in years. Not since the world changed.

Her thoughts turned to her son, Tabain, and she immediately brightened—his wild, dark curls and happy face. At three, he didn't understand the devastation that had descended on the house. Theo was often away at court, absent for long stretches, so other than the sadness, he perceived nothing out of the usual. How did you explain to a three year old that his father would never return? Hermione hadn't worked out a way.

"I think you must take Tabain with you," Lady Nott said. "I think people must see him. It is in his name you go, his legacy we must preserve. Voldemort must see that Tabain is an important part of the next generation." The nervousness in Lady Nott's voice made Hermione concerned. The woman feared this development, and maybe there was much to fear.

Continuing to pace, running her fingers over her mouth, Hermione considered the statement. Yes, she was her son's, the current Lord Nott's, guardian. She would now manage the Nott estate and lands in his name, which wouldn't be so much different as she had in her husband's absence. Her aim had been not to attract attention, as her being in charge of these lands would be disdained by many—seen as unfit and unsuitable, too stupid and backwards to take responsibility for such a sizable portion of land. "Yes," she conceded. She'd rather not, would rather leave him here, but everyone at court needed to see it was his legacy they were preserving.

Actually, she couldn't think of anything she wanted less than to go to Voldemort's court. She wanted nothing to do with the wizarding world's center of power and politics. Being a landowner, Nott had to, but it wasn't something he'd enjoyed. Court was a nest of vipers and Hermione was sure Nott's death wasn't the natural, unfortunate occurrence visitors were trying to convince her of. Thirty five year-old men did not die of natural causes, no matter what the medics said.

Sadness washed over her again. He would never come home again. Her lovely husband. He'd been a point of reason and light in a sea of darkness. They'd hidden away in this manor as much as they could and just enjoyed each other's company. Now it was only her and she was only starting to realize that. Nott had kept her hidden, this manor only for them, but that was over now; she had to venture into the viper's nest itself. Dread crept up her spine. It was the very last thing she wanted; she wanted to mourn her husband in peace, but this summons forbid that.

For a second, she wanted to crumple to the ground and refuse to do anything other than succumb to the sadness that had taken over every part of her. She didn't want to do this, wanted to take to her room and simply be with her child.

Theo had hidden the things that went on in court from her, but she knew they had exhausted him. Returning home was all he ever wanted and he wasn't allowed. Voldemort decided who came and went, and when. As powerful as the purebloods were, Voldemort controlled them. She didn't understand how this was a world they wanted to live in, but then, they had all grown rich beyond imagination. The whole of Great Britain had been divided between them, large parts of it hidden from the muggles, who hadn't apparently noticed that the space they inhabited had grown smaller. It was true: muggles didn't notice anything, and that included her parents who'd large forgotten her. It was better that way. Since Voldemort's rise, her and her parents had been a threat to each other. Sadly, it was better this way, but she felt most sorry for Tabain, who would never know his grandparents.

"You have no choice," Lady Nott said. Sadly, that was true. You could not defy Voldemort; he didn't tolerate it. There were plenty of other things he no longer tolerated, or kept for only his most trusted. Apparating was only allowed for his personal guard. It was a privilege that had even been removed from the apparent aristocracy. Yet, they did nothing about it, lived happily under Voldemort's rule as their lands and coffers remained intact.

She had both land and coffers to protect for her son. She had no option. To reject the order in any public way meant death, and her core mission was to ensure Tabain lived. Death was still too cheap a commodity in this world. Secondly to ensure he had the power and wealth to secure his family in the future. This was a world he had to live and thrive in, and it was up to her to protect him and his future.

With a sigh, she nodded. She had no choice but comply. "I will pack," she said and nodded to Lady Nott, before leaving and returning back to her wing of the house.

Walking along, she could hear Tabain's voice in the nursery, playing with his nursemaid. She couldn't walk past and followed his voice to where he sat with a book and a wooden toy. Toys were strewn on the floor and she had to watch her step. The nursemaid curtseyed and took the opportunity to have a break while Hermione was there.

"Mummy," he said brightly, holding his arms out to her.

With a smile, she picked him up, placing him down on her lap as she sat down on a small sofa. "How is my little man today?" she asked, looking into his large hazel eyes. He was the most beautiful boy she'd even seen, but she might be biased.

"Good," he said, still holding onto the toy.

"What do you think about us going for a little trip?"

"With the horses?"

"Yes, with the horses," she said. "We'll go see a huge castle, as big as the sky."

His eyes widened. "This big," he said, stretching his arms out.

"Bigger."

"Now, now."

"Tomorrow," she said. "First we must pack some things. What toys would you like to take?" He squiggled off her and ran around, picking up toys from the floor before walking over to the rocking horse. "That might be too big and horses prefer the country where there is grass and trees. Not a big castle."

For a while as she played with Tabain, she forget her worries, but they crept back into her consciousness as he settled for a nap, closing his sweet eyes. The world was still a wondrous and awe-inspiring place in his view and she wanted to keep it that way. Returning to her room, she stared out the window for a while. The fields outside were lush and green, the garden preparing to sleep through the coming winter.

She had no idea how long she would be forced to stay. It would be a simple thing, just present yourself and go away, but Voldemort also kept people at court for weeks, years even. If she had some idea what he wanted, she would know what she needed, but she had no idea. What was certain was that she needed to represent the Nott family and estates with strength, as some might see them as vulnerable.

Servants delivered a trunk for her and she turned her attention to her wardrobe. She didn't have a great number of robes that would be appropriate for court, where displays of wealth and importance was integral. For a lengthy stay, she didn't have enough. Presenting herself as weak would invite undue attention and she wasn't sure she could afford that. The Nott estate was not weak and her modest wardrobe would probably have people thinking she was poverty stricken. She would have to build on that wardrobe to be the representative of the family.

Even now, she hated the whole idea of this, of having to go there and present herself. What did they want of her? Or rather, was it Voldemort? It must have been him that had summoned her, but for what purpose? She felt a deep sense of foreboding that wouldn't shake. Was Voldemort even aware of her humble birth? Surely he was.