Lucius had apparated to Malfoy Manor, landing gracefully in his study next to his desk. Draco's shocked and angry face was still imprinted in his mind. Lucius smiled humorlessly. For your own good, you stupid boy, he thought crossly.
Steadying himself lightly with his cane, he stood with his hand poised over the glass bowl on his desk. Ornamental and frivolous in appearance, it was filled with intricate glass marbles, each hand-crafted and unique. Each with its own secrets. He admired them briefly before withdrawing a red marble flecked with fine gold. The swirls glittered prettily in the ambient light of the sunset behind him. Clasping the trinket gently, he activated the Portkey, the familiar tug at his navel starting his journey to many kilometers away.
After a harsh landing, Lucius regained his bearings and straightened. He tucked the Portkey carefully away in his cloak pocket. He had come to a truly picturesque clearing, surrounded by the fiery oranges and reds of fall. The waning light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows over the field. It was cooler up here, in the mountains. He breathed deeply, taking in his surroundings.
Just meters in front of him lay an intricate barrier charm, tinged with dark magic and permissive to his blood and none other. It was one of his prouder accomplishments, this charm. All but undetectable, unbreakable save by him, and this time around he'd even added a bonus feature to help control his little prisoner when he crossed its threshold.
It was time. Adorning a placid façade, Lucius stepped across the barrier. The scene altered almost imperceptibly, but Lucius knew where to look. Fifty yards northwest, a manhole-sized grate appeared in the ground.
Hermione awoke next to the feeling of being literally dragged out of bed by her ankles. Scrabbling fruitlessly to find purchase on her bare cot, Hermione found that the length of chain about her ankle was rapidly shortening. Head swimming with panicky post-slumber confusion, she hobbled after the chain. It dragged her to the corner of her cell, effectively pinning her in place with no more than a handful of chain links of freedom to move. She could feel it pulsating hotly about her ankle, greedily draining her energy as it retracted itself. Her vision blackened for a moment as she tried to remain upright. She panted with the effort.
She could scarcely see. Dusk was settling over the sky and precious little light found its way into this room. She squinted up at the grate, and her soft cry of fear coincided with the creak of the door opening.
"Lumos," she heard a throaty voice utter, and a brilliant white light erupted from up above.
"Who is there?" Hermione cried, voice shaking badly. There was no answer. Hermione pressed herself against the wall, so tired from the chain's power that she needed its support. She watched as a dark figure levitated down into her cell. The bright light reflected off his face, illuminating it a ghostly white framed by long pale hair. Grey eyes glittered down at her, reflected coldly in the white light.
"Lucius," Hermione breathed. She trembled with fear. Lucius said nothing for a moment, but glared at her. He looked angry. Hermione opened her mouth to speak.
"Silencio," Lucius interrupted harshly, flicking his wand towards her. He looked like he wanted to hit her, and Hermione shrank from him. Lucius regained composure immediately, crossing his arms in front his body in an imposing position.
"I wish to speak and will not have you interrupting, girl." Lucius' tone was severe, and although he hadn't asked a response, Hermione nodded mutely in reply. Lucius carried on.
"As you have likely deduced, you are my prisoner." He waited for her hesitant nod again. "Let me assure you, Mudblood, there is no escape from this place. There are so many protective enchantments here that Dumbledore's whole army could look for a century without finding you." He smirked. "This cell was meant to hold far more powerful and ferocious creatures than you, girl," he purred, teeth flashing for an instant like a panther before the strike. "Rescue and escape are not options for you."
Hermione's shoulders drooped, and she didn't bother to hide the angry defeat on her face. The chain around her ankle rattled as she shifted her weight uneasily. She was fighting to keep herself upright despite the chain's draining impact, and the effort was making her nauseous and woozy. Lucius sneered, realizing her symptoms.
"I am glad to see my new spell worked," Lucius gestured to her shackle with a self-satisfied half-smile. "It will elongate after I leave," he assured her. "A nice safety feature, don't you think?" Hermione appreciated the several meters distance between herself and Lucius. Inwardly, she screamed her rage at being treated like a bad animal. Outwardly, she pursed her lips and cast her gaze to the stone floor beneath their feet, not having the energy to do otherwise.
"While you are here, you will do as I command. Make no mistake, there will be repercussions for disobedience. You are to eat what food you are given. You are to keep some semblance of hygiene and order, as much as a filthy Mudblood can do so." He gave her a disgusted look. "When I require something of you, you shall give it." He watched her fume silently in the corner.
"I am a Malfoy," he reminded her, his tone smooth and maliciously gentle. "I always get what I want. One way or another. It would behoove you to obey me." He toyed with the snakehead end of his wand as a direct reminder to her of his power.
Hermione hugged herself, fear and fatigue overtaking her anger. She pressed herself further into the cold wall behind her.
"If you are capable of controlling yourself, I will lift the silencing charm." Lucius again waited for her nod of acquiescence, and Hermione felt the oppression of the Silencio lift. She opened her mouth and then shut it again, apprehensive of what controlling herself would mean to a Malfoy.
"I expect the Know-It-All Mudblood to have questions. You may ask them," Lucius told her by way of answer. Hermione took a breath through her exhaustion. She absolutely had to sit down and did so now, chain rattling beneath her movements. Lucius raised an expectant eyebrow.
"Why are you holding me here?" She asked the obvious question with some bravado.
"Leverage," Lucius answered levelly, intentionally eluding a true answer.
"For?"
"Keeping the major players of our game in line."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, annoyed at his vague responses.
"Watch your tone girl." His warning made her halt, briefly. She changed tactics.
"I don't remember how I got here."
"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Lucius tapped his forehead. "I of course obliviated you."
"How long will you keep me here?"
Lucius shrugged. "As long as need be."
"Will you kill me?" She refused to break eye contact.
"Suffice to say your life is in my hands." The corner of Lucius' mouth quirked up at her tauntingly.
"Will you hurt me?" Hermione could not stop herself from asking, breathless.
"No more than is necessary," Lucius answered, and she flinched. His answer meant yes, and that terrified her. He was watching her expectedly, drinking in her fear, enjoying it. She tore her gaze away, unable to bear it.
"Wh-when?"
"Not tonight," his silky voice held a note of promise. Hermione fiercely blinked back the tears that pricked her eyes and nodded slow-motion in understanding. Silence. Then,
"Who else knows I'm here?"
"No one. And let me reiterate, no one would ever find you, girl."
A new fear tumbled through the storm of information in Hermione's head.
"And so if you die in battle?" Hermione's strangled voice cracked mid-sentence.
Lucius smirked and shrugged. "You had better hope I don't, in that case."
Hermione could feel her body start to shiver uncontrollably. Her jaw worked as though she'd caught a chill, though she knew she was sweating.
"I must say, you are somewhat of a disappointment," Lucius reprimanded. "From the way you're talked about, from the way you are able to manipulate everyone around you, I find your notorious cleverness and bravery somewhat lacking." He was falsifying his disappointment, and Hermione picked up on true notes of anger in his voice.
Manipulate? She wondered at his choice of words.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, blinking again against the sensation of tears.
"For now, Mudblood, all I need is your presence. Here, in this cell. Time will tell what I'll demand of you next."
His words swirled dizzyingly in her mind, doing more to set her on edge than to alleviate her fears. It occurred to Hermione that he was being ambiguous intentionally, to rattle her, to make her feel more vulnerable.
It was working.
Lucius cleared his throat, and her eyes snapped to his.
"I will come every day at dusk. You will be provided food once a day. I expect you will be smart enough to ration it." He spoke to her like a child. Hermione nodded curtly in reply, unable to speak despite having the freedom to do so.
There was silence. Hermione watched as he surveyed her tiny cell, then flourished his wand. Hermione recoiled in response, but he wasn't aiming for her. One intricate air pattern later and a tray of food appeared at the foot of her bed. As if pausing in afterthought, Lucius flicked his wand a second time to materialize a thin blanket and a towel.
"Until tomorrow," Lucius nodded to her.
"Good night," Hermione replied reflexively, voice a throaty whisper. Her face colored at her choice of words. Lucius raised an eyebrow at her and smirked.
"Until tomorrow, Ms. Granger." He replied firmly. You have survived the day." He flicked his cloak as he turned and levitated up and out the prison. As the great wooden door crashed down behind him, the last thing Hermione saw was his glinting grey eyes in the wandlight. Then, the light and his haunting face vanished, and Hermione was left in darkness.
Hermione all but collapsed after Lucius departed. A choked sob escaped her, echoing in the empty room. Her breathing was labored, but she was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears would not come. She moaned lowly, pressing her forehead into her knees.
This is not real, she denied. This cannot be happening. "This is a horrible dream," she breathed aloud. "This is not real. This cannot be real." Her fist collided solidly with the stone beneath her, sending very real shooting pains up her arm.
In a matter of moments, Hermione felt a shift in the magic of the chain, and her energy surged back to her body, electrocuting her heart so painfully it made her gasp. Jittery with nerves now, Hermione ran unsteady fingers through her tangled hair, massaging her scalp in slow, circular motions until she calmed. Kicking her foot out experimentally, she found that the chain did indeed regain its pull when she moved.
Crawling carefully on all fours, Hermione made her way to the end of her cot, to the tray of food. Squinting hard, she could make out a sandwich, water, and two whole hardboiled eggs. Not much for a twenty-four hour stipend, she thought. Her stomach was in knots but she knew she ought to eat now to stave off hunger and overeating later. Deciding on half the sandwich, Hermione paused before taking a bite.
"Food poisoning had better not be on the list of necessary harms," she told no one.
