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Chapter edited by the stunningly kind, Catherine Morgenstern.
Chapter Four
Hermione awoke to soft even breaths brushing her throat. Warm, gentle puffs of air that tightened her skin and left a thousand goosebumps to rise in its wake. At some point during the night she must have turned over and now found herself wrapped around Lucius bloody Malfoy. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized how intimately they were pressed together. Not even a sliver of air separated them. Her chest touched his, hard against soft, legs tangled up in his own long limbs while her pale hands were tucked tightly into the deep folds of his robes, knuckles scraping against his leather vest. Strands of curly hair escaped from the thick plait she wore, tickling the underside of his jaw.
But the worst thing, the most horrifying thing, was that he was awake. She knew he was because he was touching her. Not in a lecherous, creepy kind of way. But with a slow languorous glide of his thumb against the skin of her waist. Just above the band of her jeans and beneath her jumper. A gentle, barely there, touch. Back and forth. Back and forth. And it was…nice. Comforting even. Her sleep addled brain didn't get any further in its musings before she was pulling away. Because she could never ever allow herself to find anything Lucius Malfoy did to her comforting. He was a monster. Albeit a monster who wore a pretty skin.
Scuttling across the floor like a demented crab, she increased the distance between them, halting only when her spine thudded against the wall. By the time she'd stopped, Malfoy had climbed to his feet. A peeved expression marring his face. Clearly he thought she was overreacting.
"How long have you been awake?" Hermione asked, folding her arms over her chest and trying to prevent accusation from colouring her tone.
Lucius regarded her with cool disdain, "My dear girl, I didn't sleep a wink."
"Oh." Her eyes travelled guiltily around the room, finally coming to rest on the broken door. It wouldn't hold. One more attack and those creatures would break through. Those slithering shadows exuding death and despair as they attacked. And Hermione didn't think they'd survive if they managed to break through the door. "Did you hear anything?"
Malfoy shook his head, pale hair framing his face, cold eyes cruel. "Is that the last of your questions? Or am I to be subjected to more of your insufferable prattle?" His voice washed over her like gentle rain. Almost as gently as his thumb had stroked her flesh.
Shaking that foolish thought aside, Hermione pressed her lips into a tight line. It annoyed her that he could make every dig he threw at her sound like the sweetest of praises. She turned her head away, refusing to look at him a moment longer; resentful that even now, trapped in a dilapidated room and forced to sleep on the hard ground, he still looked immaculate. His robes were blacker than night, not one speck of dust daring to mar the rich material, his hair was as sleek as if he'd spent endless hours combing through the silky strands. Or had his elf do it for him, which seemed more likely.
Hermione straightened up, eyes widening. Elves! Calling on the elves of Hogwarts would be useless, since McGonagall had ordered them to leave the school until it was safe to return. But house elves were a different matter altogether. She jumped to her feet, excitement making her stumble. She spun around to face Lucius, chewing frantically on her bottom lip and wondering if it could work. She prayed that it would.
"Call your elf," she said, hope making her voice bossier than she'd intended.
Lucius blinked. A flash of understanding replacing his usual blank features. "Twippy!"
A long second passed. Then two.
Nothing happened. Hermione sagged in despair, allowing her shoulders drop and her chin meet her chest. She had been so sure that the wards wouldn't keep the house elves out . But then she heard a pop. A faint snap of air and suddenly an elf appeared in the centre of the room. A tiny wizened thing with pearly grey skin and large emerald-coloured eyes. The only clothing she wore was a faded green silk cushion cover, with raggedly cut holes for her her arms and head. Perfect little feet shuffled in place as she awaited Lucius' orders.
Hermione dropped to her knees, hands folded primly in her lap, "Hello. My name is-"
"Would you be so kind as to stop talking to my elf, Miss Granger?" Lucius' irritated voice interrupted her.
"Well, you talk to her then," Hermione said, glaring at the Death Eater.
A sneer curled Lucius' mouth, "When you seal your lips and refrain from sticking your nose into that which does not concern you, I will gladly oblige." He waited a long moment. Stormy grey eyes staring at her with ill-concealed disgust, as he held himself straight with displeasure.
She rolled her eyes and switched her attention back to the elf. Twippy was wringing her hands and looking back and forth between the two of them with a panicked expression twisting her features. The poor thing looked like she was about to burst into tears. Those gorgeous emerald eyes were filling with moisture and threatened to spill over at any moment.
"It's okay. Nobody is angry with you," she said softly, ignoring Malfoy's huff of annoyance.
Lucius snapped his fingers. A sharp sound that made the elf flinch, almost jumping off the floor in fright. "Twippy, can you disapparate with me?"
"No, Master. The wards won't let Twippy take you." A tear trickled down her cheek, falling onto her chest to soak into the silk cushion cover, leaving a perfectly round, damp spot in its place.
Hermione felt her heart sink, nails digging into her palms as disappointment washed over her. But then she had another idea. "Ask her to go to find Draco."
Lucius stiffened. "Go. Find my son," he ordered in a sharp voice and with a look in his eyes that was positively glacial.
Twippy immediately disappeared, leaving behind a tension-filled silence which neither of them sought to break it. Lucius was content to stare blankly at the door as he waited for news of his son. Hermione was biting her nails, sick with nerves and worried about the Death Eater's reaction should Draco be dead. Seconds turned into minutes. The longest of Hermione's entire life. The tension increased until she thought she could reach out and bat it aside.
Then finally Twippy returned.
"Master's son is hiding in the library."
A flash of relief crossed Lucius' face. It was gone so quickly Hermione wasn't sure if it had been there at all.
"Is he alone?" Lucius asked, striding across the room to stand over the cowering elf, tapping the floor impatiently with the tip of his cane as he awaited a reply.
Twippy shook her head. "No, Master. Twippy saw three others."
"Who did you see?" he said sharply. His voice was like the edge of a knife.
"Twippy doesn't know!" the elf wailed, lifting her hand to thump the side of her head. "Twippy should be punished. Twippy is a bad elf!"
Hermione rushed forward, reaching for the tiny creature's arms. "Stop!" The elf struggled in her grip, twisting and flapping until Hermione feared she'd harm herself. "Tell her to stop!" She implored Lucius over her shoulder.
"I will do no such thing." His brows knitted in anger, a frown marring his smooth forehead. "Now leave the elf alone. Can you not see that she does not wish to have your filthy hands touch her?"
A dagger of hurt pierced Hermione's heart. His cruel words biting into her as sharply as if he'd taken a blade and sliced her skin. She immediately dropped her hands, tears welling up as she backed away. The elf calmed down instantly, looking at Lucius with adoring eyes.
The Death Eater regarded the elf coolly. "Go back to the Manor. Bring me food, water, a table and a chair." He tapped the cane against the side of his thigh as he spoke. "Take the same provisions to Draco, minus the furniture of course. Find out who is with him, then report back to me immediately."
Twippy performed a clumsy curtsy before vanishing with a loud pop. She left behind silence.
Hermione remained motionless. Staring at the stone wall beside the door, she refused to speak unless he asked her a question. She was blinking rapidly to dispel her tears.
"Have I done the impossible and rendered you speechless, Miss Granger?" He kept his voice carefully polite, hiding the intended cruelness under dulcet tones.
Her eyes narrowed. Anger filled her chest at how she'd let his words hurt her, when they shouldn't have. He was a Death Eater, who'd done awful, unforgivable things to so many people. To her. And she shouldn't care what words he used to try and hurt her. But it was so easy to forget the monster lurking beneath that debonair mask he showed the world. And that was precisely what made him so dangerous. Determined that she wouldn't ever let it happen again, Hermione decided to use her own words to insult, unbalance and confuse him. To use her skills to get underneath his skin.
He was still watching her. Perhaps he was waiting for her to respond. Well, she would. She would play on the years of social etiquette and pure-blood manners that had been drilled into him from the moment he could speak.
A hidden smile played across her lips. "When she returns, I'd be terribly grateful if you could please ask her for a blanket?"
Lucius stiffened, his face becoming inscrutable and storm-grey eyes flashing bright silver. "But of course," he replied stiffly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. His response dictated by the gentleman his parents had brought him up to be.
They watched each other across the dim room. Neither of them willing to be the first to drop their gaze. To concede. To withdraw from the challenge that had somehow been issued. It was Twippy's return that broke the odd stalemate that had fallen between them. And only because the elf was carrying the most outrageous chair Hermione had ever seen in her thin, doll-like arms. It was a huge wooden monstrosity, carved with writhing snakes and upholstered in decadent black velvet.
Hermione's jaw dropped as Twippy set it down and then promptly disappeared. Seeing Lucius' exasperated look, Hermione bit her lip to prevent the smile that threatened to break free. "I had no idea your taste would be quite that...ostentatious."
A slight flush tinged Malfoy's cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger she couldn't say. But it was the most human emotion Hermione had seen him display. He didn't answer her. He merely stepped towards the chair, flicked his robes aside and sat down. He should have look ridiculous. Sitting in his throne-like chair with an arrogance that tainted the air around him. But he didn't. Perhaps because he was so at ease in his own skin or because the privilege he wore like a suit of armour was so thick that all ridicule bounced off him and faded into dust.
Hermione was still studying the chair when Twippy returned. This time she was holding a folding table and a woven basket laden with food.
"Have you delivered the supplies to Draco?" Lucius asked as Twippy set up the table and began to unpack the basket.
"Twippy delivered," the elf confirmed, placing a selection of neat sandwiches on the table next to a plate of cheese, crackers and cut meat.
Lucius tipped his chin up, expression growing distant. "And he is well?"
"Yes, Master." A slice of chocolate cake joined the rest, followed by a large decanter of clear liquid and one cut glass crystal tumbler.
Thirst chose that precise moment to make an appearance, reminding Hermione that her throat was dry and scratchy. She stepped forward, licking her lips, and reached for the glass. Lucius gave her a sour look but didn't otherwise object as she filled the tumbler almost to the brink.
"And what of Draco's companions?" Lucius asked, idly swinging his cane back and forth.
"Twippy see Theodore Nott, Rabastan Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov." The elf stood beside the chair as she recited the names, carefully pronouncing each of them in turn.
"That's good. I'm pleased with you Twippy." Lucius flipped his long-fingered hand in a casual gesture of dismissal. "Come back in an hour, I'll give you further instructions then-"
"Don't forget the blanket! And a book to read on Dementors and Inferi if it's not too much trouble," Hermione said, earning her one of Lucius' glares that perfectly conveyed just how much he hated her.
"And a blanket and book," he finally added when it became obvious that she wasn't going to droop like the vapid female he thought she was.
Twippy vanished, leaving them alone to eat in peace. Which Hermione intended to do. Because now that food was available she realized how hungry she was. Reaching across, she plucked one of the tiny sandwiches off a plate. A cucumber and cream cheese that melted instantly on her tongue.
"By all means, help yourself." Malfoy's venomous voice had her lips twitching.
She gave him a saccharine sweet smile that was so obviously fake that it could have been made from plastic. "Thank you. It's so kind of you to offer."
The look of ill-concealed irritation flashing across his face was priceless. He grumbled something indistinct under his breath that she was certain was less than complimentary. For the next few moments they did nothing but eat. Hermione was more than content to ignore him as she gorged herself on the delicious food and drank her fill of the ice cold water. At one point she passed him the glass, sure he would refuse to take it, but after only the briefest of pauses his pale fingers closed around the water. She did notice that he turned the glass before he drank, making sure his lips didn't touch the same place her's had. It was such a Ron thing to do that she rolled her eyes, not missed by the Death Eater who slammed the glass down with more force than necessary.
Hermione sighed. Holding a hand to her stomach and patting she said, "That was lovely. Your elf cooks well."
A pale brow inched up Malfoy's forehead. "Indeed."
"Do you think she'll be able to find out what's happening out there?" she asked, tipping her head to the side.
"Perhaps." He looked pensively at the door. "She will be of use in any case."
Hermione nibbled her lip. "You could ask her to find other survivors. Let them know to use their own elves." She crossed the room to lean against the wall. "I've been thinking-"
"Merlin protect us," Lucius murmured.
Hermione scowled. "Was it not me that came up with the idea of calling your elf?"
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Then by all means, Miss Granger, do continue."
"As I said, I've been thinking about a spell I once read about. A severing spell-"
He gave an impatient huff. "Which would be of little use to us."
She stomped her foot in anger. "Will you stop interrupting me and start listening?" she said, glaring at him, hair crackling with furious energy. "The spell doesn't sever limbs, it severs magic."
"Ah." His fingertips caressed the silver-headed snake that made up the handle of his wand. The implication of what she'd said became clear. For once she was grateful that she was trapped inside the room with him; that she didn't have to explain. He'd already worked out that a spell that could sever magic could to break the bond between the creatures that waited outside, and whoever controlled them. "What was the name of the book? Where is it now?"
Hermione nibbled her lip. "It was in a reference book called 'Magical Spells That Can Be Twinned With Others'. It has a green cover. I found it in the Restricted Section. We could have Draco find it."
Lucius hummed, knowing as well as she did that there were hundreds upon hundreds of books stacked upon the dusty shelves. Elves were forbidden in that part of the library, which meant that Twippy wouldn't be able to help with the search.
"Do you think it could work?" she asked, shifting nervously from side to side.
"Perhaps." He was staring at the door again. A calculating look darkened his eyes to the point they resembled iron, hard and unyielding. "Have you finished?" he asked, indicating the food-leaden table.
Hermione nodded.
"Twippy!" Lucius called out impatiently, waiting for the elf to appear.
A pop. And then the elf stepped out of the air, carrying a leather-covered book and a thick, green blanket. Hermione took them from her, careful not to let their fingers touch.
"Clear this away and then go to Draco, tell him to search for a book in the Restricted Section of the library. A green book with the title, 'Magical Spells That Can Be Twinned With Others.'" He gave Twippy a stern look. "Tell him to call you the moment he finds it, and then bring the book immediately to me."
"Yes, Master. Twippy will do as asked." The elf snapped her fingers, making the table and food vanish, followed quickly by the elf herself.
"Well then..." Hermione began, voice fading when she saw the faraway in Lucius' eyes. She sighed, gaze searching the room for a brighter spot to read. There wasn't one, but below the window a sliver of weak sunlight illuminated the gloom. Seeing no better place, Hermione made her way towards it, placing the book on the ground so she could gather the soft blanket around herself. Sitting down, she undid her plait, fingers combing through her hair before wrestling it into a messy bun.
"It must be so tiresome," Lucius mocked, "having such atrocious hair."
Hermione slowly let her gaze trace over the contours of his face, then up to linger on the pale sheen of silk that topped his own head. She deliberately wrinkled her nose. "Well, you'd know I suppose."
And...ah! The blow to his vanity was worth the hate-filled look he gave her. Although she did shiver in fear at the retribution she could see hovering in his silver gaze. But it was the speculation that worried her the most. She wasn't sure she liked knowing Lucius Malfoy was thinking about her so hard.
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