Chapter Nine

The Little Moments

Hermione stretched, reluctant to open her eyes, before snuggling further into the thick quilt.

A rich chuckle sounded from somewhere nearby, and she poked her head out of her plush cocoon. Master Lucius stood before his open wardrobe, his hair still damp from an early-morning bath, she assumed, as Dobby rushed about, fussing to dress their owner.

She spared a moment to wonder if Master Draco dressing himself yesterday morning was an anomaly, or if the younger Malfoy actually preferred to see to such things on his own.

"Good morning, Pet," he said with a smirk, his gaze flicking over to catch hers a moment.

"Good morning, Master Lucius." She sat up, holding the quilt against herself for Dobby's sake. Though, as she scanned the room briefly, she saw that, indeed, Master Lucius had kept his word, and her dress was carefully draped over a chair beside the wardrobe. "I am sorry to have slept so long. Is there anything you require of me?"

"Nonsense, Pet," he said with another rumbling laugh. "It's always good for a man's ego to see he left a young woman worn out."

Biting her lip, she blushed and cast her gaze to the floor.

"However, I require you to bathe and dress. Dobby will prepare you breakfast shortly, then we will be going."

Her attention snapped back to lock on him as her eyebrows shot up her forehead. "We, Master Lucius?" she asked, wondering if he meant her, or himself and Master Draco.

Lucius nodded as Dobby finished puttering around him and lifted both hands to straighten his shirt collar. "Yes, we. Of course, you will accompany Draco and I to pick the new window dressing for you room."

Her face pinched in thought, as though she didn't quite comprehend his words. "I'm going with you to the marketplace?"

Lucius understood easily that she meant she hadn't thought they would bring her along. With a start, he realized how stifled she must've been before, and that she'd not even been aware of it, herself. The jolt of sympathy was both unexpected and mildly unpleasant.

"Be a good girl, and perhaps we'll dine at a café for lunch when our business is concluded."

Those wide chestnut eyes brightened at the mention and suddenly the girl was out of bed. Snatching up her dress, she held it as cover around her naked form as she ran to the door.

"I—I'll go have that bath, now," she said with a smile and exited the room.

Dobby turned to Lucius, a thoughtful frown pulling his little face downward. "Dobby doesn't understand. Why is Miss so happy?"

"Because, Dobby, gilding the bars of a cage makes it no less a prison."

The creature's naked brow furrowed as he weighed his master's words, yet found himself unable to comprehend the cryptic statement.


After her bath, Hermione sat at the table in her room. Dobby had prepared another fantastic meal—she nibbled at toast with strawberry jam and sipped chocolate-sweetened breakfast tea as she waited for the scrumptious, piping hot serving of scrambled eggs, topped with shaved cheddar and sauteed mushrooms, to cool a bit.

While she ate, Dobby stood on a chair he'd pulled up behind hers to deal with her hair. Best to attack it while it was still wet from her bath, he'd said. He pulled and tugged and twisted and tucked until her golden-brown locks were arranged in a neat pile atop her head.

She felt him pressing gently against her scalp and turned to look toward the mirror above the vanity table. The elf was pushing hairpins—topped by little, decorative silk flowers of varying color, complementing her jeweled necklace—into her hair to hold the style in place.

"Dobby, they're lovely," she said turning in her seat to face him after he was finished. "Wherever did you get them?"

"Dobby made them for Miss, himself."

"Oh, Dobby, thank you!"

The little creature beamed, but not so much as when the girl leaned over to drop a kiss on his cheek.


Lucius stepped out first, followed by Draco as the driver held the door. Hermione eagerly accepted the hand Master Draco extended to help her from the carriage.

He pulled her between himself and his father, but she barely noticed—even as she slipped a hand around each of their crooked arms and started walking—as she was far too caught up in the vibrancy of the marketplace.

Everywhere people on the walkways laughed, and talked. Shoppers strolled about, their arms laden with goods, or carrying a completely mad-seeming number of bags in their hands.

She could hear wind chimes, and music boxes, children giggling. The scents in the air teased warm, fresh baked goods, sugary sweets and beckoning arrays of incense. Hermione could readily pick out the ones for offering prayer to the gods, and one intended to inspire love. That second one was rather reminiscent of the aphrodisiac incense so often brought in to the baths during training sensations. A pleasant memory, indeed, but one she pushed away, as this was hardly the time or place to entertain such a recollection.

Before she realized, she was already walking into a large, impressive-looking building, the doors lined by marble pillars of deep grey, veined with silver and gold. She waited on a plushly cushioned bench beside Master Draco as Master Lucius was escorted—it seemed to Hermione there was a lot of unnecessary fuss and bustle when the people behind the high, partitioned counter saw the Malfoys enter the establishment—to a private booth.

"Master Draco?" she asked in a whisper.

He looked to her, grey gaze flicking over her features, registering that she seemed a little troubled. "Something wrong, Pet?"

Clearing her throat, she leaned a bit closer—despite that she already sat with her shoulder pressed to his arm—to speak in his ear. "What is this place?"

His eyebrows drew upward. "You've never been to a bank before?"

She shook her head. "No. This is my first trip to a marketplace."

Draco frowned as he thought. That made sense, after all, when she was the pet of the prince, there was no need for her to do anything of the sort. Of course, her life wasn't typical, even for one of her station—many pets accompanied their masters on shopping trips, some even assisted their masters by tending customers at their shops.

"What were your days like at the palace?" he asked, recalling how shocked she was yesterday at the concept of having time to herself.

Her eyes roved the ceiling as she recounted her basic daily schedule. "Well, all meals were formal, so bath, I had an elf who dressed me—her name was Winky, adorable, uppity little thing—breakfast, poetry reading, music lessons, dance instruction, lunch. Um, walking the garden and courtyard with Queen Lily, she loved to oversee all that, herself, she would teach me the flower names and what they meant. Then tea was followed by—"

"My gods," he said, his eyebrows so high they were hidden beneath the pale fringe of hair falling over his forehead. "Why so tightly ordered?"

She shrugged, shaking her head as she turned to watch Master Lucius make his way toward them. "Much is expected of the prince's courtesan. I suppose that's why the Mothers chose me for him. I enjoy learning and studying."

Just as his father reached the bench, Draco asked, "Does that mean you know how to read?"

Hermione nodded. She knew not all the girls in Solitude had bothered with such things, but it couldn't be that odd a trait, could it?

"You do have quite the pleasing speaking voice," Master Lucius observed aloud as he stuck out his elbow for her. "Perhaps this evening, before dinner, you might read some poetry for us."

Draco got to his feet on her other side as she stood and slipped her free hand around Master Lucius' arm, again.

A smile curved her lips. "I will pick something worth listening to, then."

As they walked to the doors, Lucius said, "You will be pleased to know your bracelets did fetch quite a Note. Let's go see about window dressings."


Hermione wandered about the shop, from drapery display, to drapery display. Silks and cotton and velvet, of varied thickness, and in any color she could imagine hung against the walls and graced funny, false windows standing at random intervals on the floor.

She could feel her masters' gazes upon her as she drifted about, trailing her fingertips along crimson velvet here, across green cotton there. When she turned to look at them, Master Lucius wore a small, amused grin, and Master Draco watched her with what was almost—though it felt like hubris to think it—a look of adoration. His grey eyes held a dreamy quality, and spots of pale pink dotted his fair cheeks.

Hermione hid a smile behind her hand as she returned her attention to her selection. To think, she'd been so frightened of what her new life as the Malfoys' pet might hold only two days ago . . . .

"This one," she said finally, uncertain if it was to distract herself from pondering any further on how her new masters made her feel, or if she truly adored the silk periwinkle and lavender arrangement before her as much as she told herself she did.

Twice now she'd been ripped from a life in which she was content, from those to whom she thought she could give her heart. It was far too soon to be content—to believe she could have a lasting happiness here.

She would make do with the little moments of bliss, as she always did.

Nodding, Lucius gestured to the shop owner. The tiny man—no taller than a house elf—waddled over to them, beaming at her choice.

She never heard how much it actually cost, as the proprietor stood as high as he could, speaking to Master Lucius in hushed tones. The elder Malfoy nodded, extracting his book from the inside pocket of his jacket. As he opened it, she noticed a bunch of loose Note sitting atop the stitched bundle. She reasoned that must be from exchanging her bracelets.

He handed a few to the shop owner, as he rattled off delivery instructions.

After the little man walked away, Lucius counted the left over Note. Nodding to himself, he put the book away. He waited for Hermione to take her place between himself and Draco before he started for the door.

"Back to the bank," he said with a sigh.

Hermione frowned. How many times did people go to the bank while shopping?

"I didn't realize there was so much left over," Draco said, his tone thoughtful as he curled a hand over Hermione's on his arm.

"Well, the quality of the gold was rather high, so I suppose this was to be expected."

She tried to make sense of how they sounded. Bored? Agitated? Hungry? It was difficult to pin down, and she was usually quite good at reading expressions.

"I'm sorry, Master Draco, Master Lucius," she said finally, her voice soft. She couldn't take the uncertainty any longer, a gnawing feeling—like when she feared having done something wrong—twisting in the pit of her stomach. "Is that bad?"

"Hmm?" Lucius' brows furrowed as he turned his head, meeting her gaze as they walked. "No, Pet. It's only that those in our standing often forget the cost of things. I simply wish I'd known, so I could make the arrangements when we'd been there, earlier."

"Arrangements?" She echoed the word, her face pinched in question.

He nodded, his long hair rustling beautifully around his shoulders. "We are using what Note is left over to open an account for you. You will be able to purchase whatever you wish with those funds."

Hermione froze mid-stride and they both stopped, turning their heads to look at her. Biting into her lip, her brows drew together as she tried to stop her eyes from welling up.

"Oh, dear gods. Not again," Draco said in a whisper as he shook his head.

"What—what is that?" Lucius swallowed hard, his gaze flicking about her features. "Is she crying?"

Draco nodded, his expression pained. "Same thing happened yesterday when I said her jewelry was hers."

Lucius' eyes rolled so hard that his lids fluttered as he let out a sigh.

"No," she said, shaking her head and forcing a smile. "I'm fine, Master Lucius. I just . . . that was unexpected, is all."

He nodded, pulling them into step alongside him, once more.

Despite being told, and her barely-avoided outburst, Hermione didn't really believe what was happening until the book was placed in her hand. Opening it, she flipped through the neatly ordered Note, and then ran her finger along the seam.

Her brows rose as she read aloud the name stamped to the inside cover of the leather book. "Hermione Malfoy."

"You have no family name," Draco explained. "So, as our pet, you are legally considered a Malfoy."

"No, explanation necessary, Master Draco," she said as she closed the book and placed it in his waiting hand—her dress hardly had pockets, after all. "I like the sound of it."

A smile touched his lips before he turned away to start them walking toward the doors.


Hermione seemed distracted as they lunched in the open air section of one of the cafés. When Draco followed her gaze, he found that she was watching a street urchin.

"Have you never seen a homeless person, before?" The question seemed perfectly reasonable—there were so many things she had never glimpsed, before.

She shook her head. "I wasn't aware there were people without homes," she said quietly.

Chewing her lip, she listened to her masters give reasons why such a thing could happen. Lost business, runaway, disownment, plain bad luck.

Her unfamiliarity with the concept wasn't why she was staring, though. The young man, despite the dirt and rags, was somewhat familiar. Not that she knew him—hence her scrutiny. As she watched him, hunkering down to tear into a loaf of bread, she realized.

He reminded her of the prince. They had the same unruly dark hair and green eyes she could see even from this distance. He carried himself differently than Harry Potter, of course, but the physical resemblance was strong.

Sighing, she put it out of her head.

Until they were returning to the carriage. Hermione carried bags filled with items she'd purchased, herself—decorative baubles for her room, hairpins, perfume, lilac-scented soaps. She'd even ordered beautiful fabrics to have ready at the Manor for when the seamstress arrived tomorrow.

As the driver came to take the bags from her, she noticed the young man from the corner of her eye. Biting her lip, she looked down, but her gaze tripped over the glinting of gold upon her wrists.

If two of her bangles had fetched this much Note . . . . Sliding one bracelet free, she hurried over to the dark-haired young man before her masters noticed she'd moved.

"Here," she said, kneeling before him and pressing the gold circle into one of his hands.

A look of confusion flitted across his soot-smudged features. "What's this for, then?"

She smiled, uncertain why he seemed suspicious. Did people often bribe urchins to do things for them?

"It's for whatever you want," she said simply, before rising to her feet and returning to the carriage.

Draco and Lucius seemed displeased by her decision, and she suddenly feared she'd angered them.

"I'm sorry." She forced a gulp down her throat, her eyes wide. "Have I done something wrong? My jewelry is mine to do with as I please, isn't it?"

Lucius held his tongue until they were in the carriage, the door shut securely. "My concern, Pet, is that such actions can be dangerous. You cannot always trust those in that man's position."

Finally, the tension in her muscles eased. She hadn't realized how anxious waiting for an answer had made her until then. "So you are not angry with me."

He let a breath hiss out from between barely parted lips as he shook his head. "Not precisely, but we will need to discuss rules of conduct before your next shopping excursion."

Her shoulders sagged a little, disappointed that she'd made them unhappy, but relieved that she hadn't truly upset them.

"What I don't understand is why you did that," Draco said, staring out the window. "Yesterday you were so happy that jewelry was yours, and now you give it away so easily?"

"I gave it away because I have something to give."

His brow furrowed as he graced her with a curious look. "I don't understand."

She looked to his hand covering one of hers and couldn't help stroking the pad of her thumb over his knuckles as she answered. "Until yesterday, I'd never owned anything before, not even the clothes I wore. That man is free, in a way I've never been, he at least owns that which he has on him. Yet . . . he's in such an unfortunate situation. How can I not give to one who has even less than myself?"

Father and son exchanged a long glance, and she couldn't make sense of what that interaction meant.

Frowning, she turned her head to meet Master Draco's gaze, to ask what the issue was, now. He cut her off by slipping his free hand around the back of her neck and pulling her close for a kiss.

His tongue darted between her lips, caressing hers before he released her and sat back again.

A little dazed, she asked, "What was that for?"

He smirked. "You're a treasure, you know that?"

Hermione bit her lip as a happy grin curved her lips. She turned her attention from Master Draco to Master Lucius, who watched her, his face thoughtful. Though it didn't temper her happy expression, she couldn't help wondering what that look meant.