Chapter Three

Breakfast

Blearily Hermione awoke to the last place she expected to be. Where was the beige tent? Where was Ron's snorting? Harry's worried pacing? In place of what she imagined was silence, and an expansive window greeting her with blinding daylight of a clear blue sky.

She bolted to a sitting position, the silk covers pooling at her waist. She looked to her right, and got out half of a scream before a hand was covering her mouth.

"It's just me, Granger," said Zabini sitting beside her leaning against the headboard. He released her, and rolled off the bed.

"S-sorry," she apologized ignoring the fact that he had been in the bed with her. She didn't want to know why, probably to make certain she wouldn't try for an escape.

"It's all right." He pointed to a door in front of her. "The bathroom's through there. A bath has been run, and clothes are in there," he pointed to a wardrobe.

"Um, Zabini, I don't have anything to wear."

"Mrs. Malfoy went out last night to buy you some things. I'll be back in an hour to take you down to breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

He chuckled darkly. "When I said we weren't going to hurt you I should've told you we plan on taking care of you as well." He winked, and left.

Hermione was dumbfounded. The Malfoy's taking care of a mudblood. Her of all people. Mrs. Malfoy had actually bought her clothes. She shook her head climbing out of the bed. She crossed the room, and peeked her head inside of the bathroom.

It was as lovely as the bedroom everything done in a calming blue. A circular blue bathtub filled to the brim with steaming water, and sink, the edges of the mirror also blue. The wall like the one in the bedroom was in glass showing the same field, flowers, and trees.

She shed her clothes, and stepped in. She took a cloth scrubbing her skin. She dipped in soaking her hair. There was soap, and a razor, all the things she needed. There was a large white towel on a rack for her. She covered herself stepping out. She couldn't recall being cleaner in her life.

There was a soft knock at the door, "Miss Granger," a woman's voice called softly. It reminded her of music.

"Yes?"

The door opened, and in stepped a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, and light blue eyes. "Miss Granger," she greeted gently. "I'm Narcissa Malfoy."

Hermione felt her blood run cold. She suddenly wished that Malfoy, or Zabini were close by something she never thought she'd ever wish for.

Mrs. Malfoy read this. "Don't be frightened. I'm here to help. My husband, and I have your wand. I thought you'd might like to have your hair dry." She brought out her wand. "Do you mind?"

Hermione surveyed it apprehensively. There was nothing to lose. She nodded, and closed her eyes in fear as Mrs. Malfoy moved her wand over her hair. When she announced that she was done, Hermione chanced a glance in the mirror. She thought she would see a terribly disfigured face staring at her, but there wasn't. Her hair that was usually a frizzy mess was smoothed out in waves. It was astonishing how much better one could look after a bath, and a spell.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. For the clothes too."

"You know... I've always wanted a daughter. I hoped, and prayed that Draco would be a girl." She chortled. "You're a lovely girl, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked to her curiously. A lovely girl?

"We've made mistakes, we realize that. We're trying to right them. Starting with you. You'll be safe here. No one will hurt you. You're more protected than your friends."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Please, if they... Come here... Don't hurt them." She could see in her mind's eye Harry, and Ron coming to rescue her, abandoning their search of the Horcruxes. If only she could get word to them that she was safe. She had come to accept that she was. If they were going to torture, or kill her, they've done a great service to her seeing that she was clean.

Mrs. Malfoy gently touched her hair. "We'll protect you, but there are no promises for your friends. If Potter shows up here..."

"Please, no."

"Your friend's have gotten out of every kind of scrape they can get themselves into. I wouldn't worry about them." She held open the door for her. "Come on now, Miss Granger, get dressed. Breakfast should be served."

Draco ambled into the dining room seeing his father at his usual post at the head of the table with the Daily Prophet, and then his best mate leaning on the two legs of the chair his boots propped up. Draco shoved them off earning a resentful glare from Blaise.

"Where's Granger," Draco demanded. "You were supposed to bring her down."

"Your mother went up to fetch her."

He plopped in a seat next to him. "Keep your feet off my table." He looked towards the door waiting for Granger to come through. "Did you settle into your room?"

"Yeah, thanks for letting me stay here."

"The more to watch her."

Blaise snorted. "Give her some credit, she's probably never been treated like a princess before. She might not want to leave."

Draco shook his head. "I'll give you several reasons why she'd want to. One of them is that she's a prisoner, we're keeping her here against her will Second: Her friends Potter, and Weasley are out there. Three: We've been her enemies for as long as she's known us, she's not going to trust anytime soon."

He elbowed his ribs, and nodded to the door. Draco turned in time to see his mother walk in. Automatically the men at the table stood, and her father held out her chair as he had done all of their marriage.

His breath caught when he saw the angel walk in.

Granger was clean of the dirt, and grime, her hair in shiny waves. Her new jeans, and shirt fit her, not hanging off her body like the loose skin of an elephant. There was light blush over her cheekbones, and her lips shimmered. She was stunning in all honesty of the word, better than when he saw her at the ball. She had been dressed up, and now she wasn't, she was casual. In a way it was better. It was real.

At the same time Draco reached for a chair to hold out for her, so did Blaise. They glowered at one another, but Blaise retreated. Idly he wondered why he would hold out a chair for her anyway, but blew past it the way he did the furtive glances his parents shot at each other.

Granger's lip curled into a smirk sitting in the seat. He puffed out his chest in pride, and sat on one side of her as Blaise did same on her other.

Their China plates filled with mouth-watering food, and they tucked in. Draco noticed her etiquette, the way she placed her napkin in her lap, her elbows off the table, and back straight. Why it surprised him he wasn't sure, perhaps it was because he spotted Weasley stuffing his face rudely at the Gryffindor table, he was so grossed out that he didn't look to Granger. She will fit in here, he found himself thinking.

A soft cough from his father alerted Draco to his staring, and he quickly picked up his fork spearing his food.

When they were done, all evidence of their food disappeared from their plates leaving them clean, and sparkling. Draco stood lying his napkin by his plate. He stopped halfway when Granger spoke.

"Thank you..." She shrugged, "for everything."

His parents beamed, but in a flash it was gone. The door burst open bouncing off the wall. Aunt Bellatrix with her wild black hair, and her eyes darting around the room landing on Granger. They glinted.

Simultaneously Draco, and Blaise placed themselves in front of her drawing their wands. Draco wanted to see Granger's expression, how scared she was, but he didn't dare give his aunt an opening. She wasn't beyond cursing her nephew.

Aunt Bellatrix cackled at this twirling her wand in her fingers like those Muggle batons. "Oh, is it ickle Granger? What is she doing here," she directed it to her sister.

"Bella, she's a prisoner -"

"NO," she shrieked. "Cissy, she sits at your table, she eats your food! A prisoner stays in the cellar, and eats the flesh off of the rats! Your son, and this Italian boy defend her! Where is my sister?!"

A bright light, and Draco was flown across the room hitting the opposing wall, Blaise dropping beside him. He coughed in surprise watching as his mother, father, and aunt duel, lights like fireworks blasting.

Granger laid on her back bleeding from the corner of her mouth. It felt like he was blown with another curse. She was hurt. He grabbed the sleeve of Blaise's robe, and shook him. "Get to Granger - take her. Now!"

Blaise ran to Granger's side as Draco took position beside his father to fight. He didn't have her for a day, and already she was hurt. He was disgusted with himself.