Hermione stared at the massive wrought iron gates that were firmly shut against visitors. There was no bell so she had no idea how she was supposed to attract the attention of the inhabitants within. She peered through the bars, staring down the long drive towards a large and imposing manor house.
Malfoy Manor seemed darker and more malevolent than she remembered it, which was strange because she and her friends had been brought there at night, and the mad witch Bellatrix Lestrange had been a resident in the manor at the time, and it was hard to imagine anyone more rancorous than her.
The house looked gloomy and forbidding. Dark swathes of ivy covered the outside of the grimy building, but although caked with dirt, the myriad lead-paned windows seemed to glint, giving Hermione the impression that someone within was watching. From the general disrepair and the overgrown and neglected state of the gardens, it was clear that Malfoy Manor hadn't been the recipient of any loving care for quite some time.
For a moment, Hermione wondered whether Lucius was aware of the bad state of repair into which Draco had allowed the Malfoy estate to fall and what he thought about it. Perhaps he hadn't been told as there was nothing he could do about it locked away in Azkaban, the prison where he was due to spend at least another two decades before being given any chance of release. Regardless, Malfoy Manor and any remaining money that went with it belonged to Draco now, not Lucius, and the son was entitled to do whatever he wanted with the property, including leaving it to go to wrack and ruin.
Perhaps a lack of money had contributed to its mouldering state, too. The manor must require a considerable amount of money to keep it looking at its best, and with Draco apparently not having left the grounds for almost a decade it was unclear whether there was any money being generated within the family — probably not, if the almost empty Gringotts vault was anything to go by. Whatever the case, there was no obvious entrance into the grounds other than through the main gate, and her presence hadn't attracted any signs of life, either in the house or gardens, so it was unlikely she was going to get inside today.
Hermione had already walked as much of the perimeter of the estate as she could access and there was definitely no way in, not that she could see, anyway. With twilight coming so early in the day this close to the end of the year and with the temperature dropping considerably, she was beginning to feel chilly despite her thick cloak, and her feet were cold, her boots not as warm as they could be.
Although it was frustrating, Hermione knew she had to give up for today, had to go back to her room at the pub in the quaint and extremely picturesque village a mile down the road and try again tomorrow when she was feeling warmer and more refreshed.
She took one last look at the house. There was no sign of any light within, even though it was beginning to get dark, and there were no lamps outside either. It was as if the whole place was dead. Hermione shuddered at the thought. Then, trying to force down her disappointment, she Disapparated to an alleyway next to the pub she was staying in. Having checked that no one had seen her, she made her way into the welcome, warming environment, sighing with pleasure at the heat that hit her like an intense wave as she walked through the door.
Hermione walked to the bar to get a drink, looking around her at the patrons while she waited. She knew the village was dual occupancy, predominantly Muggle but with several wizarding families also making their homes there. As far as she could tell the current customers were all Muggle so it wasn't going to be worth her while talking to any of them about Malfoy Manor. She had no idea what sort of charms and wards protected the estate from discovery by Muggles, but knowing how magically powerful the Malfoys had been she assumed they would be extremely effective.
She took her drink to a small table in the inglenook, feeling the need to sit near the glorious roaring fire. Hermione removed her cloak and threw it over the spare chair, then sat down in the other and picked up the menu, studying it as she debated what to have for dinner. Ten minutes later she had decided on a homemade steak and kidney pie with mashed potatoes and seasonal vegetables, and another twenty after that she was gazing at the appetising meal that had just been placed in front of her by a smiling waitress, along with another glass of wine.
As she ate her dinner Hermione thought back to her visit to Malfoy Manor. Remembering how empty and unloved the place seemed to be she began to wonder for the first time whether Draco was actually still alive.
She couldn't believe the Ministry hadn't already checked, and there had been no announcement or obituary in any of the newspapers, at least not as far as she could recall, but it was possible that having locked himself away from the world for whatever reason, Draco might have fallen ill, and with the house-elves unable to break their master's command about leaving the house they would not have been able to get help for him.
After all her work on house-elf rights in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione was well aware that house-elves could be an extremely funny bunch, particularly those that had been attached to a family through several generations, as they had effectively been brainwashed over time. Harry's house-elf, Kreacher, had been a prime example of this but had also shown that with time and a lot of subtle encouragement house-elves could be persuaded to change their natures completely.
Was it possible that the Malfoy house-elves had kept hold of Draco's body after he had perished, unable to accept the loss of their final master? It certainly wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened; the Ministry of Magic archives contained more than a few such stories. In such cases, it quite often took several years for the death to come to light, and then only because of some investigation like the one she was currently undertaking.
If Draco was dead that would certainly explain why he had never answered any of the letters that had been sent about recovering the compensation his father owed, and it would go a long way towards answering why there was no money left in Gringotts and why Malfoy Manor was in such a bad state of repair. The house-elves wouldn't be expecting Lucius back, and with no current master to care for they would let the place fall apart around them and their dead master as they had no interest in caring for themselves.
With a slightly sinking heart, Hermione realised that she hoped she wasn't right. While she might not have got on with Draco Malfoy during their time at school she had never wished him harm. The idea that the unfortunate man, who had in his own way suffered just as much as she and her friends during the war, had come to a sad end was incredibly dispiriting.
Surely there was another reason for his disappearance; she should stop being so pessimistic. Once she talked to some of the locals she would find out the truth. It was entirely possible that while the Ministry of Magic and the greater wizarding community were convinced Draco had become a recluse, he might, actually, be living a perfectly normal life and be regularly visible within his local community.
As Hermione ate the delicious apple crumble and custard she had ordered after her main course, she decided she shouldn't jump to conclusions just because Malfoy Manor wasn't being kept up in the way she would have expected. It was entirely possible that Draco detested the place as much as she did — after all, he had spent his whole life living there and had been incarcerated there for several months during the war with both Voldemort and Bellatrix breathing down his neck, not to mention all the Death Eaters and other sundry ne'er-do-wells who regularly visited his father.
Perhaps the reality was that once Lucius had been sent to Azkaban and Draco had received the money, he had cleared out the vault at Gringotts and abandoned Malfoy Manor for a quiet life elsewhere, one not encumbered by his family name. It was even possible that he had gone abroad, maybe changing his name if not his easily-recognisable looks.
Hermione cursed herself for this particular train of thought. If that was the case she was never going to be able to track him down, not unless a miracle occurred.
But she was getting ahead of herself again, and assumptions did no one any good. Her best bet was to go to her room and have a shower and get changed, then return to the bar for a couple more drinks. Hopefully, by that time some wizards would have appeared and she could begin her investigations in earnest. Otherwise, she was just overthinking everything and getting nowhere fast, which was a pointless waste of her time and energy.
Hermione walked towards the metal gates of Malfoy Manor once more. It was a chilly day, but at least it was dry and didn't look like there was any chance of rain or snow, thank Merlin. As she walked she considered once again what she had been told the previous night by a couple of wizards who had stopped by the pub for what was, apparently, their regular late-night session.
Both were extremely old, heading on towards triple figures if she was any judge, and they had been happy to talk to her at great length about Malfoy Manor and the family that lived there. And as both had resided in the area all their lives it seemed they knew a great deal about the so-called lords of the manor.
They confirmed what Hermione already knew, that Draco Malfoy had disappeared into the estate and hadn't been seen for the best part of ten years — since the day of his mother's funeral, they explained before going on to describe the event in rather more detail than Hermione really needed to hear. However, they were both also equally certain that he was still alive.
When Hermione questioned them as to why they were so convinced, Burt, the younger of the two, told her that Draco had been seen within the grounds several times over the years, particularly on the anniversary of his mother's death and on her birthday. On both those dates, he would visit the mausoleum, which was housed in the far eastern corner of the estate, laying flowers and spending time with her.
Hermione wasn't sure this indicated that Draco had a sane mind, but at least he was at Malfoy Manor and still alive. What she had to do was to work out a way to get in there and then she could assess the situation further. The problem was that she still had no idea how to do that, other than waiting around to see if someone left the house.
Burt and his friend, Albert, had given Hermione some advice on that, too, assuring her that although the place looked deserted and neglected, house-elves could often be seen walking around the grounds and that eventually, they would communicate with her if she made her presence obvious enough.
They weren't all that optimistic about her chances of getting to talk to Draco, but Hermione was certain she could make enough of a nuisance of herself that he would eventually grant her an audience, however brief. If not, she would just have to wait until the twelfth of December — Narcissa Malfoy's birthday — when she would hopefully gain sight of the man himself.
It wasn't the ideal plan, as it would mean having to explain to Sylvia why it was taking her so long to complete the assignment and it would give her very little time to get the inventory of Malfoy Manor completed, especially as she really wanted the case concluded and closed by Christmas. The sooner she could get away from this one, the better.
Pulling her wand from her pocket, Hermione tried to open the gate. She had no expectation of it working — indeed, she expected Draco to have put strong repelling charms on the whole perimeter, but at least it would alert those within the house to her presence, and with any luck, someone would come to check it out. She just wished the assignment had been given to her back in the summer when the weather had been better, but her luck never ran that well, especially when Sylvia was involved.
It had now been four days since Hermione had arrived in the village of Winterslow, and so far she had experienced nothing but frustration where Draco Malfoy was concerned. Although she had spent almost all day every day using her wand to fruitlessly attack the defences around the Malfoy estate, she had so far gained no ground in getting inside, and disappointingly, no one from the house had come to check out what she was up to, either.
Hermione was aware that if she had no luck today she would need to return to the office, even if only briefly, to update Sylvia on what was happening with the assignment, and she wasn't very happy at the idea of returning with negative news. She had a difficult enough battle against her ignorant and biased boss when she was succeeding in her work; to admit she was failing would probably be enough for Sylvia to attempt to get rid of her, even though it had only been a few days.
It wouldn't work, of course, but that wouldn't stop the stupid woman from trying, and Hermione wanted to spare her the embarrassment despite knowing that if the roles were reversed Sylvia wouldn't lift a finger to help her.
It wasn't in Hermione's nature to be vindictive though, so she had so far purposely kept her troubles a secret from those of her friends who were at a level to be able to step in on her behalf and sort things out. But if Sylvia tried to get her sacked she would have no choice but to deploy the big guns, and heaven help the terse, arrogant witch who thought she was so much better than Hermione then.
Hermione tapped her wand on the gate, trying yet another spell to open it. It didn't help that she didn't have a clue what wards were in place. It could be absolutely anything, and without knowing the correct combination of spells she would be there forever unless she got extraordinarily lucky. But the thought of the battle that lay ahead back at the Ministry of Magic was enough to keep her there and trying when someone else would surely have given up.
When the latest combination of spells failed and Hermione's fingers were getting so cold she was having trouble holding her wand, she retrieved a flask from the messenger bag she was carrying, and sitting down against the ivy-covered wall she unscrewed the cap and poured a steaming cup of tea. She was grateful that the Muggle landlord, Mike of the Red Lion, was willing to provide her with tea and a packed lunch every day so she didn't have to leave her quarry during daylight hours.
Hermione had told him she was an author who was doing research for a book she was thinking of setting in the area and he had been eminently helpful in identifying local areas of mysticism — standing stones and such like. It was through him she had discovered what the glamour on Malfoy Manor was, when he warned her to keep away from the crumbling and dangerous ruin that lay to the north of the village.
As far as the Muggle inhabitants were concerned, the vast estate of Malfoy Manor had once been a Norman keep that had been partly destroyed in various skirmishes against the local barons in the middle ages and had been completely razed to the ground during the aftermath of the battle of Roundway Down in 1643, when the King's Cavaliers had thoroughly trounced the Parliamentarians who had been besieging Devizes.
All that was left, she was told, was a large amount of rubble and a lot of unexposed sinkholes that made the land too dangerous to traverse. Hermione had been directed to a public footpath that skirted the perimeter of the manor and warned that she shouldn't stray from it if she wanted to stay safe.
She had just finished her tea and screwed the plastic cup back on the flask when she realised something had changed. She had seen a movement in the grounds, she was sure she had. Jumping up, Hermione moved back to the gate and pressed her face against the ice-cold bars as she scanned the bleak landscape looking for any sign of life.
It took another ten minutes before there was any further movement, but then she saw two small house-elves carrying wooden boxes, walking along one of the paths that led up to the house. Without thinking, she called out, waving her arms above her head as she tried to attract them.
The house-elves stopped at the sound and turned to look in Hermione's direction. They were too far away to see their expressions but she suspected they were surprised that they had been noticed — there were few people in the area who would have been able to see them, and it was unlikely that any of them spent much time in the vicinity these days. After a couple of seconds' pause they turned to walk away, so Hermione cried out again, partly in frustration and to let them know she had seen them and wanted to talk.
The elves looked at each other as if debating, then the older and larger of the two broke away to walk towards the gate while its fellow continued back to the house. Hermione waited for the aged elf to join her, crossing her fingers that she would be able to convince it to let her in.
'You is not wanted here. You should go away.' The house-elf's croaky voice sounded bitter as it reached the gate.
Hermione stared at the box. It contained a selection of fresh vegetables, homegrown, she suspected, from the look of them.
'I need to speak to Draco Malfoy. I have been informed that he is at home but I don't know how to get through the gate. Can you let me in, please?' Before the house-elf could say anything, she added, 'I'm from the Ministry of Magic if that helps. I am here on official business.'
The house-elf looked anxious at Hermione's words. It had clearly heard of the Ministry of Magic and was probably aware that a visit by an official representative was important and not something that could be easily ignored — it no doubt remembered the raids the Ministry had undertaken before and after the war — but at the same time it had its orders, and they were obviously to repel all potential intruders regardless of who they were. Hermione knew that unless she did something the poor elf was likely to move into self-harm mode as it tried to fight the two diametrically opposed orders.
Keeping her voice calm she said, 'I'm aware that your master wishes to remain isolated and has instructed you not to allow any visitors onto the estate, but I'm afraid I have no choice but to talk to him. Even if I leave today I will be back and will keep coming back until Draco decides to speak to me.
'I understand that you have orders not to let me into the property, and I wouldn't want to cause a problem for you by making you disobey those orders, but it is vital I speak to Draco as soon as possible. So, if you can't open the gate and let me in can you please return to the house and inform your master that Hermione Granger from the Ministry of Magic is here and wishes to talk to him as soon as possible? I will wait here for the answer.'
The house-elf looked unhappy at Hermione's request but, aware that it was the best it was going to get, it nodded and trudged its slow way back up the path towards the house. Hermione checked her watch. It was just gone midday, almost lunchtime. Her mind returned to the succulent-looking vegetables the house-elf had been carrying. The place might be in a state of disrepair but somewhere on the estate were vegetable plots and greenhouses and they were obviously being well cared for.
More than ten minutes later, and just when Hermione was beginning to think the house-elf had ignored her request, there was movement from behind the gate. Hermione realised that it wasn't the house-elf returning, the figure was far too large and lean. For some reason, although she had no idea why, her heart started to race as she became aware that Draco Malfoy himself was coming towards her.
'Good afternoon, Draco,' she said as pleasantly as she could manage while the man was still making his way towards her. She was determined to set the tone and make it as non-confrontational as possible.
Draco scowled fiercely, which did nothing to improve his countenance. He was extremely gaunt, with skin even paler than Hermione remembered it; dark circles rimming his eyes made him look haunted and indicated he was probably an insomniac. He was also dressed in drab and somewhat threadbare clothes that had definitely seen better days and hung loosely off his bony frame.
Hermione was shocked at his appearance although she tried hard not to show it. It was almost impossible to believe that this shattered wreck of a man was the once-handsome boy she had been at school with.
'Go away, Granger. I don't want to talk to you.' Draco's voice was harsh and rasping as if underused.
'I'm sure you know that I would never have come here unless I had no other choice,' Hermione pointed out, trying to keep her tone calm and non-antagonistic. 'I understand the Ministry of Magic has sent you several owls but you've ignored all their communications.'
Draco shrugged. 'I live a quiet and simple life on my own and don't need any disturbances . . . especially from the Ministry of Magic.'
'Can I come in to discuss why I'm here rather than shouting through the gate?' Hermione requested politely.
Draco stared at her for a moment and his eyes glittered dangerously. 'Do you really want to come in here, Granger, remembering what happened last time you were here?'
Hermione's mouth set in a thin line. 'As I said before, I'd rather not be here, but I have a job to do so I have no choice. I assume that as you're such a private man you don't want me advertising your business to anyone who might be in the area so I would be grateful for a few minutes of your time.'
Draco snorted bitterly. 'A few minutes. I think what you're here to do is going to take a lot longer than that, isn't it?' He sighed, then pulled his wand from his pocket, whispering as he waved it. Sounding resigned, he said, 'Come in, then, if you must.'
Hermione felt a ripple like a faint breeze upon her skin as the wards keeping her out of Malfoy Manor were removed. The huge gates swung open with an ominous creak. She took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, waiting to see if Draco had something nasty up his sleeve.
A moment later she relaxed as she realised she was fine, the gates already clanking shut behind her. For a moment, her heart was in her mouth as she was reminded of the last time she had been taken to the house, but knowing it had no place in her current work she pushed the thoughts away, hoping Draco hadn't noticed her slight reticence.
But the blond-haired man had already turned away and was walking back towards the manor house, his long stride fast enough that Hermione had to hurry to catch up with him. Neither of them spoke as they walked.
Once they entered the house through a door that took them into the entrance hall, Draco barked out some orders that Hermione couldn't understand in a deep, rasping voice. There was the sound of nervous skittering as house-elves rushed about the place, performing whatever tasks Draco had commanded of them.
He motioned towards a closed door just to their left.
'We'll go in there.'
Hermione followed Draco, glancing around her appraisingly. The inside of the house was showing a state of disrepair but hadn't yet reached the proportions she had expected from viewing the outside. Although dingy and in need of both refurbishment and some minor repairs the interior was tidy and clean, no doubt thanks to the hard work of the house-elves.
The room Draco had led her to was a study and she was pleased to see there was a decent fire blazing away in the hearth. She sat down in the chair opposite Draco and removed her outerwear as he made his way around the desk.
Hermione had considered many times since taking the case how she was going to open negotiations with the Malfoy scion and now decided, seeing his still scowling face, that cutting straight to the chase and sticking to the facts was probably going to be the most sensible option.
'Well, I think you know why I'm here,' she began.
Draco merely stared at her, his hands resting on the desk, fingers interlaced. His gaze was unnervingly intense.
Hermione swallowed and continued, 'The Ministry of Magic has sent you a number of letters over the last couple of years — I don't know if you actually read any of them?'
Draco continued to stare, saying nothing.
She sighed. 'As part of their sentences the Death Eaters, including your father, were ordered to pay the Ministry of Magic significant sums of money to be used as compensation for those who were attacked during the war and towards the costs of rebuilding the wizarding world in the aftermath. Your father's contribution to this fund runs to a sum of some two hundred thousand Galleons, which was calculated on your father's wealth at the time — financial, commercial and property holdings were all included in this assessment.
'In an attempt to try to circumvent this payment, your father transferred everything in his name to you before he was sent to Azkaban. However, at appeal, the Wizengamot agreed with the Ministry that this should not be a bar to the money being paid and you, therefore, are liable to pay this sum on his behalf.
'The letters sent by the Ministry will have communicated this to you and given you ample opportunity to furnish the payment as requested. As you did not reply within the required timeframe, an order was granted allowing the money to be recovered from your account held at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, but this was declined as there were insufficient funds available in your vault. I understand that the Ministry sent you several letters regarding this, too.
'As you still refused to contact the Ministry on this issue, it has been passed to me to deal with. I have been instructed to make a complete inventory of everything at Malfoy Manor with a view to compulsory seizure for resale of a number of goods equivalent to the value of the sum owed, and I have the full backing of both the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot in this endeavour.'
Feeling somewhat sorry for the blond man, Hermione finished, 'I'm sorry it's come to this, Draco, but unfortunately, you shouldn't have ignored the letters sent by the Ministry. The only thing I can suggest is that I complete my inventory, preferably with your help, and then you can tell me if there is anything, in particular, you don't wish to lose. It will obviously depend on the value of the goods as I need to ensure that the Ministry receives the full amount it is owed, but I am willing to try to work with you wherever possible to ensure you don't lose something that has particular sentimental value for you. It's the best I can do, I'm afraid.'
There was a deep, ringing silence for several long and uncomfortable minutes as Draco continued to stare at Hermione. Then he asked, 'What if I say no?'
Hermione considered what she was going to say, knowing that the answer wasn't very positive.
'If you refuse to pay what your father owes, the Ministry will petition to have you sent to Azkaban and will then seize Malfoy Manor and its entire contents without any consideration of your preferences. Everything will be sold, all monies outstanding to the Ministry will be recovered along with any costs incurred, and anything left will be placed in your account at Gringotts for when you eventually leave prison. Please, Draco, work with me on this. I don't know why you didn't contact the Ministry when you received the letters, but it isn't too late. I can help you if you let me.'
'It sounds like I don't really have much choice, doesn't it, Granger?' Draco said sourly.
'Why didn't you contact the Ministry earlier?' Hermione asked. 'All this nastiness could have been avoided if you had just gone to them.'
'It would have made no difference whatsoever,' Draco retorted. 'I have to pay the money regardless. The only thing it would have changed is the unwanted visitor turning up and demanding entry.'
'If it wasn't me it would be the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,' Hermione warned coolly. 'If you'd rather have them stomping all over your estate let me know and I'll go back and tell them.'
Draco sighed deeply. 'No. I don't want anyone else coming here.' He was quiet as he considered for a few seconds, looking at the clock on the wall, then he asked, 'Would you like to stay to lunch, Hermione? I suppose we could use the time to discuss further what you need to do.' He paused for a moment, then added, 'I'm a vegetarian. Hopefully, that won't put you off.'
Hermione remembered the delicious-looking vegetables she had seen earlier and smiled, feeling that there had been a subtle shift in their relationship with him now calling her by her first name rather than her surname.
'Not at all. I love vegetables. Thank you for inviting me, Draco. That would be lovely.'
He stood. Sardonically he told her, 'We'll go to the dining room. The house-elves will have been excited at your arrival and the chance to entertain for once, so no doubt they'll have pulled out all the stops.'
Hermione picked up her cloak, scarf and gloves and followed Draco back out into the hall. He took them from her and placed them on an old-fashioned coat rack set next to the stairs, then guided her into another room further down a corridor that led from the hall.
The massive dining table that Draco led her to was plainly but elegantly set for the two of them at the end nearest the door. There was pure white crockery with green and silver lines running around the rim of the charger plates, glistening silver cutlery, crisp white linen for the tablecloth and intricately folded napkins that had what Hermione assumed was the Malfoy family crest on them, and cut glass drinkware with a matching jug full of water and crystal decanters of wine. Hermione saw Draco give a fond smile at the trouble the elves had taken as he politely held out her chair for her.
She sat down, then looked around her interestedly. The dining room was large and classically decorated, although as with all the rooms Hermione had seen so far its beauty was fading and the chandeliers were dusty, attesting to the lack of use. Hermione could easily visualise the sort of grand dinner parties that must have been held there in the past. It had probably looked spectacular, especially with all the candles alight, and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous that Draco owned such a beautiful room and a touch disappointed that he was letting it slowly fall apart.
'Would you like white or red wine?' Draco asked once they were settled and he had poured them both a glass of water. 'Either will go with the meal.'
As he spoke three house-elves appeared, all carrying trays of food which they offloaded onto the table. Draco watched them, inspecting the dishes as they were laid out. Once the elves were finished they all bowed at the same time, then disappeared with a pop.
Draco picked up a large serving spoon as he pulled a steaming dish towards him. He held out his hand for Hermione's plate. She passed it to him and watched as he piled a decent amount of the food onto it before handing it back to her.
'It's a rather splendid aubergine parmigiana,' he said, sounding satisfied as he put a large portion on his own plate, too. 'Help yourself to the Greek salad and the bread. It's all freshly made today, and all the vegetables are fresh from the garden.'
'I saw the house-elves carrying some up earlier,' Hermione said. 'It all looks lovely.'
'Sorry, I was pouring some wine, wasn't I? What did you say you wanted, white or red?'
Hermione asked for a glass of white, which Draco poured, filling his own glass from the same decanter. She picked up the bowl of salad and added a healthy amount to her plate before plucking a piece of fresh warm bread from the basket.
'That is really good,' she announced, impressed, once she had taken a mouthful of the aubergine dish.
Draco smiled. 'It's one of my favourites so we have it quite a lot. You'll also find a lot of quiche on the menu . . . and stuffed peppers. The house-elves love doing those for some reason. Fortunately, we have a decent stock of a variety of vegetables year-round with the greenhouses.'
'You haven't always been a vegetarian, have you?' Hermione asked. She was trying to remember back to when they had been at school together, but to be honest, she hadn't really taken much notice of what Draco had eaten.
'No. It's been about nine or ten years now,' Draco said without expanding further.
Since Draco had become a recluse, Hermione realised. For a moment, she felt the urge to ask him what had made him change but decided this might be prying too deeply when she was currently only on the thinnest ice with him. Perhaps he would reveal more of his own accord in time.
But the meal continued in silence until Draco said, 'So, tell me more about what you need to do, Hermione. You said something about an inventory.'
Hermione nodded. 'As you don't have the cash to pay off the debt we'll need to sell some of your belongings, I'm afraid. I'm going to need to make an inventory of what you have, particularly those things you'll consider parting with. Once that's done I'll need to get it officially valued, then from there we'll make a decision about what the Ministry needs to take for sale.'
'How long do you think that will take?' Draco's voice was quiet but not unfriendly.
'How much stuff do you have?' Hermione asked. 'It's a pretty large place so it's going to take me a while, I think, although I will work as quickly as possible. The Ministry was hoping the whole assignment would be completed before Christmas. Obviously, I am aware that you don't want to be disturbed so I shall try to be as invisible as possible, although any help you can give me would be greatly appreciated.'
'When would you start?' Draco asked.
'At the earliest opportunity that is agreeable to you. As I said, we're up against a challenging deadline so I'd prefer to make a start sooner rather than later. If you give me access to the grounds I can come and go without disturbing you.'
'No.' Draco's face was set, his mouth a thin line of disapproval.
Hermione's heart beat faster and a lurching feeling roiled around her stomach, making her feel suddenly queasy. She thought she had been doing so well but now Draco was going to refuse and she would have to return to the office and admit to Sylvia that she had failed.
'I don't want you coming and going at all hours, leaving my security and privacy compromised,' Draco said tersely. 'You can stay here while you're doing the inventory. There's plenty of space.'
Hermione had a sudden nauseating feeling of terror at the thought of being trapped in Malfoy Manor again. Even though she knew it was a stupid and irrational fear, a feeling like cold fingers crawled up and down her spine and she had to work hard not to squirm.
She closed her eyes for a moment, reorienting herself as she took a calming breath and forced herself to calm down. Draco wasn't going to harm or kill her, and it wasn't like she wouldn't be able to leave once the inventory was completed.
'What's the matter? Scared?' Draco's voice was sneering now.
Hermione took a sip of her wine to steady herself.
'Not at all. That would be extremely kind of you—' assuming you're not going to house me in the cellar, she thought, remembering the last time she had been there. 'I've been staying at the pub in Winterslow for the last couple of days, so I've got a bunch of stuff there I need to collect. And I ought to check in at work to let them know I'll be staying with you for a while.'
'So, shall we say the day after tomorrow, then?' Draco asked.
'Yes, that would be fine. What time should I arrive?'
'Make it ten a.m. That should give the house-elves a chance to get breakfast out of the way and make a start on lunch.' Draco dabbed his mouth with his napkin, then folded it and put it on his empty plate. He stood up, looking skittish as if he was eager to leave. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things I need to do. Click your fingers when you've finished eating and are ready to go and one of the house-elves will show you out. I'll see you on Tuesday.'
Hermione watched in astonishment as he hurried out of the room, leaving her alone with the remnants of the meal. As much as she was enjoying the food she felt a little self-conscious about eating alone, particularly when she had initially been sharing the meal. She hurriedly finished the last of the aubergine on her plate and drained her wine, then called for a house-elf.
Ten minutes later she was back outside the grounds of Malfoy Manor, staring back through the closed gate at the house. Hermione was pretty sure that Draco wasn't mentally impaired in any way, although he was clearly quite odd, but that was presumably down to a lack of human companionship. He had grown used to doing what he wanted when he wanted and had forgotten how to behave in company. It wasn't something to judge him for.
Hermione Apparated back to the pub and went to pack her belongings, looking forward to going home. She was feeling quite optimistic now, too. Draco was going to allow her to complete her assignment, which would really piss off that old cow, Sylvia. Once she was packed and had checked to make sure she hadn't left anything behind, Hermione went to say farewell and thank you to Mike for his warm hospitality.
An hour later she was at home in her flat in London, dropping her bag and putting on her washing before heading back out to the Burrow to see Harry and the Weasley family, knowing he, Ginny and the kids would have gone there for Sunday lunch. She was eager to update her friend on what she had achieved, even if only to stop him from worrying that she had been murdered, or worse, by Draco.
Despite the fact that she was going to have to stay at Malfoy Manor for an extended period of time, which still scared her somewhat if she was being honest, Hermione was now feeling more upbeat than she had since she had first been given the assignment. As amazing as it was to admit, she couldn't wait to go into work tomorrow and update her colleagues and her boss on what had happened so far.
Once again, the old cow had failed, and Hermione was feeling quite smug about what she had achieved with Draco and couldn't wait to see Daphne and Sylvia's faces when she confirmed that he had not only opened his house to her but agreed to allow her to stay to complete the cataloguing of the estate and his belongings. She could already picture the sour look on both women's faces.
It was going to make Monday morning that much sweeter for once.