Chapter Six
Hermione had to remind herself to breathe. Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange were outside the room she was in. Why were they there? Did they know she was there? Did Ollivander put a trace on her wand and lie about it? Every worst case scenario she could dream up rushed through her head. She was certain that her presence in the manor was widely known and her death was imminent.
"It has been a long time since we took advantage of your extensive wine cellar, Lucius," Rabastan replied, only a hint of joke present in his voice.
"You are always welcome, of course," Lucius retorted.
"He's lying to you, Lucius," added Antonin, his displeasure with his former comrade in arms still very evident. "He heard Arcturus' Black's daughter was staying with you."
Hermione's stomach dropped but she felt a tiny bit of relief knowing that at least they weren't there looking for Hermione Granger.
"I believe his exact words were," Antonin continued. "'Let's go find out if she is as shagable as her mother always was.'"
"Antonin, you shame me!" countered Rabasaton with no hint of shame anywhere in his voice.
The two visiting wizards laughed, but Hermione was certain Lucius was only smirking politely. She wondered how anyone knew he had a guest in the manor. She desperately wanted to talk to Lucius but had promised him she would remain in the study until he came for her.
"If you two will make your way to the drawing room, I will go down into the cellar and make a selection."
"Where is Miss Black?" Rabastan asked. "It would be rude of us to drop in and not make her acquaintance."
"She is up in her room having a lie down after dinner…"
"Lucius, you dirty old man!" Rabastan chuckled.
"I will go upstairs and request that she joins us in a little while."
Hermione could hear the echoing footsteps out of the main reception hall as the two Death Eaters made their way towards the drawing room. After a minute or so the door to the study swung open to admit Lucius. He crossed the room to grab both of her shoulders in his hands. She could tell that he was trying to remain calm for her sake, but his eyes belied the panic he truly felt.
"Why did they know someone was staying with you, Lucius?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
"I was shopping the other day when I saw several of my former comrades. They wanted to know why I was buying so much food just for myself. I told them I was expecting my goddaughter to visit in a few days. Must have gotten back to Rabastan. He always had something of a thing for Isla's mother and was angry when she rebuffed his advances after her first husband died."
"Do I really have to go in there?" She was begging him with her eyes to tell her 'no'.
"Only for a few minutes, I promise. One glass of wine and then you can make your excuses."
"I don't think I can do this, Lucius," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
Lucius rubbed the outside of each of her shoulders with his hands to calm her down.
"You will be fine," he assured her. "Antonin does not talk much. Rabastan talks too much. Beyond a few impertinent questions you should expect from Lestrange, you will not be expected to contribute much to the conversation."
Sensing his reassurances were not helping the young witch to calm down, Lucius pulled her close to him in a comforting embrace. Hermione wrapped her arms around the man and tried to steady her breathing. She was well on her way to having a full blown panic attack. Lucius ran his hands across her back finally dropping his right one to rest on her bum. Startled by the over familiarity of the gesture, Hermione gasped and pushed back on Lucius' chest. He didn't release her and his grip on her derriere only increased. His second hand dropped to the other cheek. Hermione gasped again and looked up into Lucius' face. He had a smirk on his lips and his grey eyes were twinkling with the promise of a laugh. In the midst of her indignation, he raised a single eyebrow at her and Hermione couldn't keep her own chuckle from escaping.
"You're disgusting, Malfoy!" she teased, playfully swatting his chest.
Lucius released her immediately.
"Undoubtedly," he replied. "But I did just get you to calm down, did I not?"
She couldn't argue with him. The sheer panic that had been building up inside of her since the moment their visitors arrived and set off the alarms began to dissipate. She was calmer.
"Don't expect to be able to pull a stunt like that again, Lucius Malfoy," she warned.
"I would not dream of it…"
"Good."
"At least not until you looked like yourself again."
His words hung in the air like a promise and Hermione had not a clue how to respond. She could feel her cheeks flush with embarrassment or nerves or another feeling entirely. She wasn't sure which. Lucius waved his wand in the air and a smoky clock appeared. It was a timer with only twenty minutes. The timer was not moving yet.
"Stay here until the clock runs out. Calm yourself. Collect yourself. When the timer runs out, meet us in the drawing room."
She had been able to avoid the room where her torture had taken place since her stay had begun. Sensing her averseness, Lucius gave her a small smile.
"I am sorry that it is that room," he said. "I know your reluctance."
"I will be fine," she assured him.
Lucius waved his wand again and the smoky numbers began to count down. He slipped out of the room to head towards the vast cellar he had been promising to show her the past few days. When the door clicked shut, Hermione gave herself exactly ten seconds to panic. At the end of those ten seconds, she drew herself up and viewed her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace again. Isla's hair was a great deal more manageable than her own so there wasn't much needed to get herself looking presentable. She was pleased that she'd made a little extra effort in dressing for dinner that night. The navy blue wrap dress she wore flattered her true figure, but on Isla's fuller figure, it clung to her curves in a much more attractive way. This was the body of a grown woman. She smoothed out the infinitesimal wrinkles accumulated during dinner and the two enjoyable glasses of wine she'd shared with Lucius afterwards.
Twenty minutes passed before she was ready. Strange how normally watching a clock tick down makes time seem to last forever and this timer ended too quickly. Hermione would've rather done just about anything than cross the entrance hall to the large oak door of the drawing room. She wanted to stay hidden in Lucius' sanctuary that had quickly become hers as well over the previous two weeks, but she had promised her host she would make an appearance. She was not going to disappoint Lucius after all he had already done for her. It would be bad manners and he deserved more than that from her.
Her footsteps sounded unnaturally loud as she crossed the entrance hall. Her shoes clicked on the marble even when she slowed her steps. The door to the room that held so much pain for her loomed ahead. She could hear masculine voices on the inside engaged in a lively, but friendly discussion though no specific words made any sense to her. When she finally reached the door, Hermione took a deep breath before turning the knob and pushing it open.
You can do this, Hermione. You rode on the back of a freaking dragon! This is nothing.
Three distinctively different male figures rose from their seats the moment she entered the room. Their politeness struck her as odd considering the last time she stood in the same room with these three men they were all attempting to curse her and her friends. Lucius graced her with a warm smile and she almost found herself feeling at ease. Antonin Dolohov, every bit as dark and large as she remembered him, curtly nodded in her direction upon making eye contact. She could feel Rabastan Lestrange's eyes moving up and down her entire body in a poorly disguised leer. He must have seen something he liked because he crossed the room immediately to extend one of his long, thin arms in greeting. His sickening smile gave her the impression that he was imagining her naked.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Black," Rabastan greeted. "I was an old friend of your late father's. Rabastan Lestrange."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lestrange."
"No need for such formality, my dear. We are all friends here. Please call me Rabastan."
She wanted to pull her hand from his clammy hands, but wasn't sure how to do so politely. Rabastan continued to hold her hand and surreptitiously look down the front of her dress until Lucius crossed to save her. He gently took her elbow and led her to the armchair closest to the one he had just vacated. Once she was seated after being introduced to Dolohov and a glass of wine was in her hand, the three wizards returned to their seats.
"How long will you be graced with such a beautiful houseguest?" Rabastan asked the moment they all took their seats.
Lucius caught Hermione's eye and smirked. It wasn't the warm smile she had come to associate with his countenance over the past couple of weeks. He had reverted back to the old Lucius Malfoy she had known and despised. He was playing a part every much as she was.
"Indefinitely," Lucius replied. "Isla's mother sent her here to attempt to polish off the sharp edges acquired by an American education."
"Perfectly understandable," Rabastan added. "Ghastly country with a ghastly educational system. I would never allow my child to be educated in such a place."
Hermione dropped her eyes to stare intently at her wine glass. She had done a great deal of research in the past regarding the many magical schools available in the United States and found she could not agree with Rabastan completely. Certainly there were schools on the west coast that were a little too "earth magic" oriented and there were several in the southern states that focused almost entirely on dark magics, but she found a few fascinating. Certainly the Salem Institute had an excellent reputation if you could prove your blood status beyond a shadow of a doubt and there was a wonderfully small academy in the mountains of Montana that sounded amazing. Hermione took a sip of her wine to prevent speaking her opinion. Somehow she knew this was not the crowd to care what she thought.
"Did you attend the Salem Institute?" Antonin asked. "I have a distant cousin who is an instructor there."
"No, I didn't," she answered, careful not to choke on her wine. "I attended a small, all-girls school in New Orleans."
Antonin nodded his head sharply.
"I approve of witches and wizards being separated. Keeps their minds focused on what is important."
Rabastan and Lucius laughed in response.
"I could not disagree with you more, my friend," chuckled Rabastan. "Some of my best memories from school involved members of the fairer sex."
"Mine too," added Lucius.
"The years you spend in school should be spent focusing on learning. There is plenty of time once you've left school to think about relationships with the opposite sex."
Lucius and Rabastan continued to laugh at their associate.
"You must have been fun to be around in school, Antonin," said Rabastan. "Too bad Lucius and I were just a little bit younger than you or you could've been a better influence on us. I might've gotten a few more N.E.W.T.s if I hadn't been so distracted by pretty witches."
"What do you think, Miss Black? Did you prefer an all-girls school or would you have preferred to learn in an environment with hormonal wizards?" Antonin asked, surprising Hermione. She'd hoped to contribute as little as possible to the discussion and run out of the room at the first opportunity.
"I was very focused on my studies. I'm not sure if having wizards there would have made much of a difference to me."
It was Hermione's truth even if it might not have been Isla's truth. Antonin seemed satisfied with her answer. The other two men simply smirked at her response. Rabastan waited a moment before bursting out laughing.
"So you aren't just like your mother after all, are you?" he snickered. "Your mother, I seem to remember, was a great deal more interested in the opposite sex than her studies."
"Isla may look like her mother, Rabastan, but you will find in temperament she is more like her late father," Lucius explained.
"Then it sounds as if you got the best of both worlds, Miss Black."
Hermione smiled politely and took another sip of her wine. She could already feel the effects of the alcohol in her system. Her head was feeling lighter and her limbs heavier. She could feel her eyes struggle to stay open. Fear and alcohol makes one very sleepy.
"Well, I for one, am glad you are staying with your godfather," Rabastan continued, raising his glass to her in a mock toast. "I've been concerned about Lucius rambling alone in this big, old house. Perhaps knowing how pleasant the company and delicious the wine is, we will make more of a habit to visit."
"You are, of course, always welcome," Lucius replied.
"Excellent. Antonin could certainly use the distraction, couldn't you?"
Antonin narrowed his eyes at Rabastan and emptied his wine glass with a single swill. Lucius promptly rose to refill the glass for his guest. Hermione was impressed by how calm Lucius seemed. Surely he was every bit as nervous as she was. Years of experience helped him keep up a serene, unworried façade. Hermione hoped she lived long enough to develop those skills.
"Please forgive my friend here, Miss Black," Rabastan continued. "He has been in a foul mood for weeks now."
"I do hate to hear that, Antonin," Lucius said, his insincerity evident in his voice.
"Shut up, Lucius," Antonin snapped.
"Dear, dear, your manners have always needed a little bit of work, Antonin, but you are positively nasty this evening," Lucius continued. "I wonder what could possibly put you in such a sour mood."
"You know exactly why, Lucius! Don't pretend you weren't there."
Hermione swallowed the rest of her wine as quickly as possible. She wanted to leave immediately. A quick glance at the clock on the fireplace mantle showed that her hour as Isla was almost up. She'd hoped to not have to take another dose of polyjuice but it looked like she had no choice. She caught Lucius' eyes across the room. He rose from his seat and began filling her glass up again.
"With all of this excitement, it appears you will require another dose… of wine," he said.
As he poured more wine into her glass, Lucius stood his large frame in front of her to block the other two wizards' view of her. She slipped the potion vial out of her pocket and took a quick swallow without anyone noticing. Lucius returned to his chair when he was convinced she would be properly disguised for another hour. Hermione began to nurse her fourth glass of wine that evening.
"Please excuse my friend, Miss Black," Rabastan apologized once more. "He recently was quite close to catching an Undesirable and let her escape through his fingers. He has, understandably, been impossible to live with since."
"I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Dolohov," Hermione said feeling her mouth go dry with anxiety.
Antonin hardly acknowledged Hermione. He sipped more wine and stared off into the flames of the fireplace.
"Buggering shame they didn't catch that Mudblood too," Rabastan said. "Excuse my language, Miss Black."
"Indeed," Lucius replied, his eyes locked onto Hermione. She looked up from her glass and held his gaze for a few seconds before finding the hearth rug intensely fascinating.
"Would've been a good boost to morale," Rabastan continued. "Several of us attempted to get Antonin to visit the Umbridge girls with us, but he is only interested in one witch at the moment."
The wine glass slipped from Hermione's trembling hands and crashed to the floor. Wine and shards of glass scattered all over the seating area. She jumped up from her seat, pulled out her new wand and tried to repair the mess with a quick couple of spells. Her quivering hand would not cooperate. Lucius placed a comforting hand on her forearm and cleared the mess with a single wave of his free hand.
"Shameful waste of a good vintage," Rabastan tutted.
"I am very sorry," Hermione answered, willing herself not to cry the tears that were creeping up in the corner of her eyes. "I must be more tired than I thought."
"No reason to be sorry, Miss Black," Rabastan assured her. "It was my fault. Should've known better than to mention the Umbridge Home in front of a young lady. I forgot myself for a moment."
"Isla, dear, perhaps you should go on up to bed," Lucius suggested.
"Yes, of course. It was wonderful to meet you both, Mr. Lestrange. Mr. Dolohov."
The two Death Eaters rose from their chairs and wished her a good night. Antonin gave her another curt nod. Rabastan kissed both of her cheeks and promised to visit again soon. Hermione was afraid she would be sick. Lucius led Hermione over to a bookshelf by the fireplace. With a push of the shelf a hidden staircase was revealed.
"Take this shortcut," he whispered. "It will get you to your room faster. Lock your door."
She hardly had the chance to say 'thank you' before the bookshelf shut behind Lucius leaving her in the darkness. Her legs wobbled and she landed hard on her arse hitting a sharp stair on her landing. She covered her mouth to prevent herself from crying out.
"I would appreciate you not mentioning that place in front of my goddaughter," Lucius snapped.
His voice sounded amplified in the hidden stairwell. Partially out of shock and curiosity, Hermione remained seated on the bottom stair.
"I am truly sorry, Lucius. It simply slipped out," Rabastan responded.
"You are aware, no doubt," added Antonin. "That the Umbridge Home is being used to terrify young witches into proper behavior, Rabastan."
"Well, I…"
"There was no cause to frighten the poor girl," Antonin continued. "And you say my manners are poor, Lucius!"
Rabastan continued to attempt contrition for his slip up. After a minute or two the other wizards ceased to reprimand Lestrange and a new topic was suggested. Rabastan did not take the hint.
"You should come with us some time, Lucius," he suggested.
"Where?" Lucius' voice was dangerously low.
"To the Umbridge Home. Every day new girls are brought in."
"I am not interested."
"Oh come on, Lucius. Where is your sense of fun? These girls are so desperate they will do anything you ask if you just promise you will try to get them out."
Hermione covered her mouth again to prevent her gasp from being heard in the drawing room. If she could hear them as clearly as she was, she was certain they could hear just as clearly. She didn't want to know what was going on inside Umbridge's prison, but she couldn't stop listening.
"There are some that are a lot of fun."
"It seems that your idea of 'fun' is quite a bit different than mine," Lucius said, his voice still low. "I prefer my assignations not be with terrified teenagers desperate to get out of prison. That reeks of sadism, Rabastan."
Lestrange simply laughed. Hermione felt bile begin the slow rise up her esophagus to the back of her throat. This was a disgusting man who was a disgrace to wizarding kind. He deserved his lifetime sentence in Azkaban. If he could take advantage of these poor women, what else was he capable of?
"You could always pick a favorite, of course," Rabastan explained.
"Excuse me? A favorite?"
"Yes, several of the girls are spoken for. Meaning they have someone powerful who has claimed their attentions exclusively. I have one. Sweet young Chinese thing. Pretty as can be, but cries all the damn time. She's pregnant now, so I am looking for someone else now. They don't exactly encourage you to continue with the pregnant ones. If they are there to get pregnant, they would rather you keep to the ones not with child."
"I see."
"Even the Minister has his favorite, Lucius."
"You will forgive me if this does not sound like something I wish to spend my time doing."
"Don't get so high and mighty, man!" Rabastan raised his voice. "I've seen your own son there more times than I can count."
The knowledge that Draco Malfoy was a frequent visitor to the Umbridge Home for Young Ladies was a shock to Hermione. While Lucius' son had never been her favorite person and they had spent years at odds, this did not sound like behavior that she had come to expect from him. Had torturing and murdering his own mother on the orders of Lord Voldemort warped him to such a degree that he was willingly spending his time raping unwilling girls locked up in prison?
"Draco is a grown wizard. I no longer have any control on what he chooses to do with his spare time."
"Your son even has a favorite," Rabastan explained, his voice a bit softer than it had been. "Not that anyone else wants her. He goes to visit her several times a week. I daresay you will soon find yourself a grandfather."
Lucius didn't say a word, but Hermione could imagine the expression he was making.
"Too bad you are not married or you could adopt your grandchild and raise it as your own. There is no way to know where it will end up otherwise."
"Rabastan, that's enough!" warned Antonin. "Remember whose home you are in."
"Only by the mercy of the Dark Lord does this house still belong to him."
Hermione wished she could see what was going on inside the drawing room. She could feel the tension. Sparks of magical energy were being released into the air. That kind of uncontrollable magic only happened when emotions were running high. Lucius had an enormous well of self-control, but even he had his limit. She desperately hoped he wasn't about to do something foolish that would get himself hurt. She relied on him and had gotten kind of fond of him as well.
"You should come with us some night, Lucius," Rabastan said once more, not taking the hint that Lucius was not interested. "It would do you some good. Release some of the tension that has no doubt been building up since your wife was executed. How long has it been since you had a good shag? Based on the look of your house guest, I'd say it has been a while."
She heard a glass shatter on the floor once again that evening. Unsure if it had been dropped or thrown, Hermione held her breath to hear everything she could. The room was quiet but for a few muttered curses and a hastily spoken 'reparo' spell to clean up the mess. After a minute or two, the voices began again with somewhat less heated emotion.
"The invitation, Lucius, is always open," said Rabastan.
"I will think about it."
"Now if only we could get Antonin here to come with us."
"I've told you repeatedly that I am not interested, Rabastan."
"Lucius, tell me what can we do to help this poor wizard? He has one witch on the brain and I daresay she is not providing him with any amount of pleasure."
"Rabastan…"
Antonin's tone was almost feral. The warning in it was explicit, but Rabastan either was too thick to catch it or simply did not care. Hermione felt goosebumps pop up all over her body. The hair on her arms began to stand. She was not sure if it was the residual magic still floating in the air from the brawl that almost happened next door or if it was something else entirely.
"Have you finally found a witch worthy of your affections, Antonin?" Lucius asked.
Antonin practically growled in displeasure at the question.
"His obsession with the Mudblood has gotten out of control, Lucius. He's determined to find her."
"Granger?"
"Of course. Who else?"
Hermione was lightheaded and this time she knew it was fear and not alcohol. She wanted to know why Dolohov was obsessed with finding her. It couldn't have been the reward money. He did not seem the type to be bothered with ransoms.
"Why the obsession?" Lucius asked, his voice sounding casual.
"For his bravery in the Great and Victorious Battle, Antonin was allowed to make a request of the Dark Lord." Rabastan was obviously not scared of his associate's temper. He had been in Azkaban as well, after all.
"What an honor, Antonin."
"Indeed it was, Lucius," Rabastan continued. "Antonin requested the Mudblood."
Hermione finally understood what the saying 'when your blood runs cold' finally meant. Ice water flowed through her veins and she was certain her heart had stopped beating. No wonder Antonin Dolohov had been so insistent on finding her that evening in Inverness. She was his spoils of war. His prize for being a loyal Death Eater.
"Is that why she is always specifically requested to be caught alive?" Lucius asked. "I had often wondered why her death was not requested."
"Yes." Antonin finally opened his mouth to say something other than a savage snarl.
"A strange prize, no doubt. What do you plan to do with her when you finally catch her?"
"I have plans."
A silence fell over the drawing room. Hermione willed herself to go back up the stairs, but she couldn't move her legs. She was frozen in terror. There were a myriad of tortures that Dolohov could apply to her if caught. And she was now only fifteen feet away from him! If he only knew how close she was, it would be the end of her existence. Lucius would try to save her, she knew, but he would be outnumbered. She could finally understand the reasoning behind Kingsley leaving her in Malfoy Manor, but it did not make her want to run as far away from the crazed Death Eater on the other side of the bookshelf any less.
"Do you have any leads on her whereabouts?" Lucius was keeping a cool head about him.
"We haven't seen or heard anything about her since that night in Inverness," Antonin answered. "It's almost as if she just disappeared out of thin air. Couldn't have though. Runcorn had all of the necessary wards up to keep her in the city until they swept it."
Except for those two minutes when he lowered them for Lucius. She hoped that no one would ever piece that part of the puzzle together. It would only be a matter of time before she was found at that rate.
"Someone must have been hiding her in the city. We couldn't find her. The Ministry searched for two solid days and found nothing. Not even a single magical footprint after Bellatrix's wand was snapped."
"Here is to the success of your continued search."
A few moments of silence passed. Hermione hardly dared breathe. She briefly wondered if Lucius would be upset to find out that she lingered, but then she reckoned that it was the exact same tactic he would take in her shoes. He had proven himself more than able to eavesdrop outside of doors to gather information. He couldn't blame her for doing something that he would do.
"We have heard a rumor that her parents are in Australia," Antonin announced.
Hermione's stomach dropped. She had been so careful. How could anyone know that?
"Indeed? Do you have any further leads?" Lucius was smooth. She had to hand it to him.
"I'm planning a trip to Australia in the next few days," Dolohov replied. "If she is there, I will find her."
Hermione could not bear to hear anymore. She removed her shoes from her feet and quietly padded up the stairs to the empty second floor. Remembering Lucius' words to her, she locked the door behind her and prepared to wait until the wizards were gone. They could be there all night, but there was simply no way she was going to be able to get a wink of sleep with them downstairs. A locked door can only do so much.
She settled herself in an armchair that she pushed up to one of the large windows overlooking the front gates to the manor. There was no fire in her room, but she did not mind. She sat in the darkness staring out at the gates. It could have been hours before she saw two dark figures make their way down the path to the front gates. She watched them exit the gates and turn to Apparate away. They were gone mere seconds before she heard a rap on her door.
"Hermione? Hermione, they have gone."
She traversed her beautiful bedroom to the ornate door leading to the corridor. Lucius tapped on the door again and whispered her name. She was tempted to keep the door shut, but knew if he was too worried about her, he would not hesitate to blast the door down with a spell. Her hands were strangely still as she reached the door and turned the lock. Lucius pushed the door open without waiting for an invitation.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes wide with concern and a healthy amount of fear.
"Why do you think Dolohov wants me?"
Her voice was hardly a whisper, but he heard every word. With a strangled sob in his throat, Lucius threw his arms around her and pulled her close to him for the second time that night. Hermione nestled her head onto his broad chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist again. They stood there for minutes, hours, days. She couldn't be sure. Time seemed to have no meaning.
"It does not matter what he wants with you," Lucius began. "I will never allow him to touch you again."
She believed him and cleaved to the hope that when the time came he might actually be able to carry through with his promise.