Hermione woke stiffly and looked around at her surroundings. The room was small and dark, except for the one bare light bulb that hung from the center of the low ceiling, harsh yellow light hurting her eyes. They walls were bare and stained all sorts of ways as was the carpet that fought the stains of what looked like blood. There was a pathetic looking table in front of her that was so worn down it looked as though the only thing holding it up was magic. She was bound to a chair by invisible ropes so that she couldn't move and her voice box didn't seem to be working properly. She saw one door that was too sturdy for her to do anything anyway. She found out her chair was charmed to the ground.
Her face bore the marks of past meetings with the elder Malfoy. A dark bruise ran along her right side of her jaw, an eyebrow had a cut on the end and her lip had been cut. She didn't know how long she was in there, no windows, pictures or anything were on the walls to help her tell the time. She had a migraine from the pain of the light bulb and not having eaten in a long while. When the door was opened, she sat still, glaring out from under her bangs. Only a week or so in that room had changed her significantly, of course not having any food or water didn't help.
Hermione was exhausted, half starved, and cranky. She figured he had done all of this to make her easier to break in an interrogation. He had forgotten the Crucio curse had little effect on her, or the fact they had all been through very bad training for exactly this sort of thing. She had worn welts into her wrist squirming, and she knew she smelled awful. The welts hurt if she even moved an inch, which is what she wanted, should be put under a charm, she could focus completely on the pain, and sometimes it actually worked.
Lucius strolled into the room dressed in a green work robe and carried with him a small leather pouch. He placed the pouch on the table in front of her and gave her an eerie smile. "Good evening, Miss Granger." At the sound of his voice, she started rubbing the band of her engagement ring, which had become her worry stone in the days she'd been captive. She was pretty sure she had rubbed a blister on her hand right next to the ring too.
From his work robe, he withdrew his wand, to which she flinched. "What is it? Does this scare you?" He held the wand length wise and stroked it, "With good due." He growled at her. "Are my methods of persuasion having any effect on that tongue of yours?" He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head toward her. She opened her mouth to talk but only a croak came out, "Oh yes that…" he swished his wand at her, "As you were saying?"
"I said," he voice was hoarse, and it hurt from so much screaming, "I said, you can kiss my ass." She glared at him as he gave out a disappointed sigh. She hated it when he did that, it always meant he was rather sinister that day, she'd rather him just slap her or kick her. It was always better that way.
Lucius walked closer to the table and opened the leather pouch, taking out a piece of scarlet red paper. Hermione looked at the paper and dropped her head in a bitter laugh. "I take it you know what this is."
"A Howler." She said simply. "I really didn't think you'd go that low." She squirmed in her seat, trying to get more comfortable, and her welts were all stinging horribly. She feared he would do this, to somehow make the people come out on their own. She had to think fast.
"Honestly, I'm a Slytherin." He leaned forward placing both palms against the table with one wearing his wedding band. He hung his head, "A lowly, cunning, deceptive, cowardly Slytherin." His voice held something back for him, she knew what had happened. There had been a raid in which three Death Eaters had been caught, Lucius being one of them. He had been sentenced to Azkaban with a Dementors kiss, then he had a change of heart and sided with the Ministry, he told them very valuable information with a promise it would be confidential. The next day, it was plastered all over the Daily Prophet, in a matter of hours Draco and Narcissa had been found dead on the Ministries lift. Lucius couldn't handle it, he escaped and was later actually offered a job from the Ministry.
She felt pity on him, which he apparently felt because he snapped his head up, "I do not need sympathy from a pathetic Mudblood. You and your friend will pay for your past grievances against me." He threatened.
"We didn't have anything to do with Narcissa or Draco. I promise you that! Do you know anything of your son? Do you?" Hermione suddenly had an idea. "Did you know that we had become friends? That we had even swayed Narcissa on side? You were the next one." She was angry now, just spewing out all this false information now, "Draco was a very good friend of mine." Tears rose to her eyes, because she felt awful for lying, but she had run out of options. The only thing she could do now is win his sympathy or trust.
Lucius looked stunned. He struggled for words to say, for anything to say before he sat on the chair adjacent to her. "I'm so sick of being tired. I can't sleep. Whenever I do, I hear them. Both of them plague me with nightmares. The last time I heard from them was four week before I was captured. I was in custody for two months. I just, I don't know what I'm doing." He pressed his palms to his eyes and let out a yell, which made Hermione jump.
And to the astonishment and utter surprise of Hermione, Lucius started to cry. It was a pathetic cry; it was full of sorrow and emotion. Hermione's heart felt like lead, one for lying and another for actually using him. Suddenly her binds were gone, and she couldn't handle it, she fell to the floor. All of her muscles screamed at her not to move, not to think, or even blink. She tried pathetically to push herself to a sitting position, but her malnutrition and lack of any proper sleep denied her that pleasure, so she lay on the tough carpeted floor on her side, admiring her welts on her wrists.
As she lay there, she listened to him cry, and wondered exactly why he'd freed her. Maybe he felt bad, maybe he wanted comfort. She didn't know, but maybe it was one step closer to her getting out. She cleared her throat, and barely above a whisper, "It'll be alright, Mr. Malfoy."
Lucius listened to her and choked. It had been a very long time since anyone had even told him everything would be okay. And even if it was from the filthy Mudblood, it still made him feel better. He hated it. He quickly put his hands on the table and looked at Hermione, who, to his surprise, had fallen asleep. Right there on the floor, in his presence. She was completely free. He had been sure, had expected her to run at full speed. But here she was, lying on the floor of her cell with red welts all over her arms and a gaunt looking face.
He had kept her here for eight days now, with no food and only a little water here and there. He was actually impressed with her resilience, her endurance. She was so annoying and impudent though, it frustrated him. She should've broken by now, but what was he even doing anymore.
He was only a Death Eater by the mark on his arm, which didn't even bother to burn anymore. He had no family. He lived in the muggle world. For fuck sake, he worked at the Ministry at a low job because of their pity.
He threw a look toward Hermione, who was still sleeping. He heaved a heavy sigh and he pushed himself up and walked over to her.
Hermione woke slowly, and turned over. It seemed all of her muscles ached horribly. She let out a low groan as she pulled the blanket up to her chin, and then her eyes flew open. Directly in front of her was the back of a tan suede couch. She sat up quickly, regretting it, but wincing through it. She slowly drew her bare feet over the side of the couch and looked around.
The room had high ceilings, gigantic windows or really one giant window that stretched the entire wall. The furnishings were quaint; tan suede couches, maple end tables, maple desk, and couple other accessories. Behind her there was a kitchen sectioned off by wall separators and two doors on opposite sides of the one large room.
The dark room had a slight chill in it, she reached for the blanket that she'd been covered up with and wrapped it around her shoulders as she stood up, wondering where her shoes went. The carpet was plush enough so that she could move without a sound. She opened the door to the room closest to her; it was an empty bedroom that seemed unused. She walked across the room and slowly opened the other room.
The room was lived in, very clean but the smell of cologne hung in the air, she looked across the room, dresser, night stand, and bed frame all made out of maple. The bed had heavy green curtains on the sides. She stepped into the dark room and looked around, walking over to the nightstand where she saw a silver picture frame.
She picked it up delicately and flipped it in her hands, a picture of Lucius and Narcissa's wedding day, Lucius was whispering into her ear and she was blushing. They looked completely content and happy. She frowned lightly and placed it back on the night stand. Her eyes drifted around and suddenly landed on two silvery gray pools sitting up on the bed.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," Lucius said in a very airy tone.
Hermione's throat seized up and her hand instantly flew to the spot where her wand should have been. She realized she had no way to defend herself, so she simply straightened her back and cleared her throat. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."
He gave her a small smirk. "You seem to have gotten up quite early, given your condition." He was in bed clothed only in a pair of silk pajamas. "Come here," he said softly as her reached to the nightstand on the other side of the bed for his wand. When he noticed she hadn't moved, he motioned with his hand, "Come here, I promise I won't hurt you."
Hermione bit her lip and wondered what he was getting at. He couldn't possibly believe that after beating her for days, hexing her, and verbally attacking her, that he could want to 'make up'? She decided it would be best for her to play along; it was her best option at the present moment. She had to get home. She had to.
She took a tentative step towards him and another until she was standing next to him on the bed. He held his hand out, "Wrists." She held her arms up and he lightly touched them and whispered "Lumos." From there he inspected the welts she had inflicted on herself, they seemed to be fading.
"May I go home?" She asked arrogantly. Suddenly his grip tightened on her wrist and she was jerked down, her knees hitting the side of the bed and then the floor, her head was midlevel with the mattress, her arm hanging limp in his grip.
"No," he said simply. "I want you to stay here for a while. Being that I can't stand you, everyone I once knew has left me. Any company is very much appreciated." He took his wand and traced the welts on her wrist, each stingily lightly has he hummed something and a blue light came from the tip.
"Mr. Malfoy, have you always been told what to do?" She quipped.
He raised an eyebrow and grabbed her other wrist, doing the same thing. He was being kind and treating her very delicate, almost as if she would break easily.
"Did your parents? Then your teachers, then your parents again, I'm sure. They've always told you what was right and what was wrong. I can't blame you though; you're brought up how you're brought up. The teacher told you what to do right and everything, and if that wasn't enough, you had Voldemort bossing-"Lucius suddenly slapped Hermione very hard across the face, sending her over back wards onto the carpeted floor, she lay there for a few seconds. All of her muscles screaming at her because of the sudden movement. She heard a ruffle of blankets and the bed squeak as he walked over to her. She felt her shoulder grabbed harshly and pressed against the floor, laying her flat on her stomach.
He leaned forward, placing one hand beside her head and the other down by her waist, balancing himself. He leaned very close to her ear. "Never say that name. If I ever hear that name come off your lips again, I will not be so generous. Am I understood?" His voice was grave, his meaning known.
Hermione tried her hardest not to shake from fright. She didn't know what was happening. "Yes." Her voice had cracked a little and sounded very small. She could see strands of his hair falling in her line of vision; he was that close and it made her very uncomfortable. She knew she'd get hurt if kept challenging him, so she decided to play along. She curled her hands under her and tucked her chin in, because for some reason it gave her a little bit of comfort.
She didn't know how long he stayed there, above her just staring at her. But she bet it was just to intimidate her. And though she didn't want to admit it, he was very good at it.