Simple Granger, I want something.
Hermione was making her way through the passage towards Hogsmeade. The day had dragged on under what she secretly termed 'expectation time progression' – the way time always seemed to drag when you were anxiously awaiting something that was to occur later.
Hermione's mind wandered as she made her way along the dark, dank subterranean passage towards Honeydukes.
What on Earth could Draco Malfoy know about Dumbledore that I don't know already? What war is this he's talking about? And what could he possibly want from me? Whatever it is, do I really want to help Malfoy? I' m not agreeing to anything unless he gives me something good first. He's been acting so schizophrenic. Goodness, could he have taken off any more points in Potions? And what was up with Harry 'shut up or I'll take ten points'! Who does he think he is anyway! I can't believe the three of them have not spoken another word to me all day. Draco Malfoy could have a trap set up for me for all I know - this could be some sinister plot to rid the world of mudbloods one at a time - and all the Gryffindors care about is losing some stupid house cup. No, that's not fair. Ron and Harry think I'm serving a very deserving detention right now. When does this passage end? I've been walking for ages. Oh, finally.
Hermione's last though was referring to the worn stone steps that lay before her eerily illuminated by the bluish-white glow that emanated from the tip of her wand. Hermione peered as far up the steps as possible – there must have been a hundred, maybe more. Never an enthusiast for sports, Hermione groaned before commencing her assent.
...ninety-eight....ninety-nine.....one hundred.....goodness, I'm only about half-way. I don't know if I can apparate safely form this point – better keep going.
Hermione stopped to catch her breath for a moment. She had severely underestimated how many steps there were (and her own fitness level). Looking down the stairs she had already conquered, Hermione momentarily contemplated going back the way she'd come; decided it would be pointless to return now, having come all of this way already and thus braced herself for the remaining climb. She started counting aloud – partly to make the feat more tolerably, partly because she wanted to know exactly how many steps there were - not lose count.
"...one hundred thirty-one....one hundred thirty-two..."
"One hundred thirty-three"
Hermione was startled by the deep voice that resonated out of the dark. So shocked that she almost fell backwards, but for a hand that caught her. A hand that a split-second before it had caught her, had wrested her own wand from her startled freeze. A hand that now wrapped around her waist and was pulling her – pulling her – pulling her down the stairs? Was she being pulled down the stairs? A hand that belonged to a voice that belonged to.....
You stupid girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Hermione was on her hands and knees, head still reeling from the unexpected side-along apparition. Draco Malfoy was gripping her arm tightly. He heaved her to her feet and half pushed, half pulled her along the dirty, smelly alley they had apparated into. He moved quickly, Hermione stumbling along beside him, taking in little of the scenery. They kept to the side roads and alley ways and eventually reached a door that Draco opened with a wave of his wand.
The door through which they had entered gave no indication of the magnificence of the place that they had just entered. Draco continued to drag Hermione along, now through a maze of corridors with huge chandeliers and marble floors, pausing only once.
"Minx!" Draco barked "Tea. In the study".
What poor house-elf is Malfoy tormenting now? Hermione's gait now resembled a proper walk instead of the drunken-style stumble that it did previously. Her mind was still seemed a bit foggy, and there seemed to be a disconnect somewhere between her brain and her mouth – she was uncharacteristically silent. There was something, something just a bit off – a bit unsettling – about this place, although she could not quite put a finger on it.
After a few more twists and turns and a (thankfully short) flight of stairs, Hermione and Draco now stood before a large set of double doors. Hermione thought she could hear a radio playing somewhere in the distance. The doors opened silently for the couple to enter, then closed behind them.
"Sit!" Draco pointed to a large leather recliner. Hermione complied – she was gratefully to be sitting. She was a bit winded from the shock and all of the physical exertion that she was unaccustomed to, but her mind at least, was finally clear. She took in her surroundings. The room was large and expensive. A large chandelier with incandescent bulbs, like the ones she'd seen in the hall, cast a golden-yellow hue on the room. The furnishings were ostentatiously green and silver – Slytherin colours – but tasteful nonetheless. She was seated in a comfy, green, leather recliner – one of four. Draco occupied the one next to hers, separated only by a small round mahogany table. Behind the row of recliners appeared to be a lounge area – three sofas and a coffee table. The far wall was a bookshelf. Hermione wondered what manner of dark magic the books contained.
Hermione was beginning to feel rather warm – she was still wearing a thick cloak. She noticed Draco had removed his coat. She shifted in her seat while trying to remove her cloak. Draco noticed her struggling. He walked over to her, helped her quickly and quietly out of her cloak, then he took the bulky apparel over to the coat rack near the desk.
The lounge area and bookshelf were behind the recliners, but Hermione sat facing an enormous oak desk – reminiscent of Dumbledore's desk in the principal's office. There was a large silver throne-like chair behind the desk, and behind the chair was an ornate set of double doors – not the plain –looking ones she and Draco had entered by – these doors were brightly painted in what looked like an oriental design that contrasted beautifully with the rest of the room.
"Where am I Malfoy? Where have you brought me?"
Draco smiled at Hermione, but remained silent and resumed his seat next to her. Why is his sitting there and not in the throne chair? Is that chair for someone else?
"Why won't you speak to me Malfoy? Are we waiting for someone?"
Draco moved as though he was about to speak, but before he could utter a sound the door (the plain ones) opened and in walked a girl pushing a dumbwaiter. She was a young girl – probably about the same age as Hermione – and about the same height. Her blond hair was pulled tightly into a high ponytail, from whence it fell in waves down her back. She wore the traditional black and white housekeeper's uniform, although the skirt was so short Hermione didn't wonder if her underwear was exposed when she bent over but rather how much was on display. She had a more than ample bosom, her breasts spilling over the top of the tight bodice. She was not a pretty girl – her face was hard and angular; her nose large and prominent. It was painted in that substance unbeknownst to Hermione – makeup! Bright blue shadow over the eyes, fake rosy cheeks, plump red lips. Hermione noticed, however, that her foundation was not well blended, particularly between the chin and neck area – as if she had made-up in a hurry.
A sinister smile graced Draco's lips when the muggle girl entered the room "Ah! Tea!" Draco's eyes scanned the girl appreciatively from chest to crotch and back again. "Set it up on the desk". Draco's gaze never shifted from the pale girl's body – tilting his head for a better view when necessary – as she tottered around in her four inch heels setting a silver platter of treats and delicate tea china on the desk. She seemed uncomfortable with Malfoy's scrutinizing gaze; she giggled nervously, and frequently bent slightly further forward than was necessary as if to appease Draco's demanding eyes.
"That will be all Minx. Leave us" Draco said coldly when she finished setting up tea.
Minx turned to face Draco, her gaze lowered towards the floor. She curtseyed politely "As you wish Master" and left quickly with the dumbwaiter, her gaze never returning to eye level.
Draco leaned forward, poured himself a cup of tea and removed a cookie from the platter. "Obedient little cunt, Minx, don't you think?" he turned towards Hermione with the platter of treats "cookie?"
Cookie? How dare he offer me a cookie after disrespecting that poor girl in such a manner? Was she under an imperious curse? Had she been tortured into submission?
Hermione moved to speak, but this time it was she who was interrupted. The ornate doors swung open and in the frame stood a man who could have easily been mistaken for Draco's older brother had she not already known who he was.
"Lucius!"
"Miss Granger, how pleasant it is to see you again."
Hermione tried to control her nerves, but she was failing miserably. "What do you want with me? Why am I here?"
Lucius glided into the room and took his seat behind the desk; a King on his silver throne. He ignored Hermione's questions, instead offering her a cup of tea "and a crumpet perhaps?"
Hermione was quite starved. She had skipped dinner in an attempt to reach the Three Broomsticks on time (and to avoid the inevitable gossip about her behaviour in Potions earlier in the day).
Hermione declined the offer with a shake of her head, but Draco nevertheless set a cup of tea and a china plate with a crumpet, a scone and two cookies on the mahogany table next to her. Hermione gloated on the inside for a moment the Slytherin Prince had waited on her!
Hermione steadied herself as much as she could with two pairs of steel grey eyes bearing down on her. "Why have you brought me here? What do you have to tell me? What do you know about Dumbledore that I don't?"
Neither the Prince nor the King of the silver throne spoke. They continued to gaze at her as they sipped their tea daintily from the fragile teacups. She was being quite rude – asking direct questions, refusing tea. The Malfoys are not going to entertain discussion if I continue to be rude. I guess I'll have to play along – Damn Malfoy propriety! Well, Draco's munching away on a cookie – at least they're not poisonous.
"I guess a spot of tea would be nice" Hermione took a sip from the cup that was hers. Then, balancing teacup on saucer in one hand, she reached for a cookie from the plate and bit into it. It was delicious and it did in fact hit the spot.
Lucius smiled cunningly and leaned back in his chair "It's rather bright in here. Draco, would you be so kind as to dim the lights?"
Draco complied and Hermione suddenly felt a bit of panic begin to rise in her chest. What was unsettling about this house was that it was not the Malfoy manor. There was nothing magical lying around – not a phial, not a wizard robe, not a single moving picture. And the muggle maid and the incandescent lights, it could only mean one thing – she was somewhere in the muggle world.
Hermione's mouth became quite dry, making it difficult for her to swallow the cookie.
She could be anywhere in the vast muggle world wandless, with two possibly dangerous wizards and no one even knew that she was out of the castle! If she really was in the muggle world that meant that she was far, far away from any help.
