Chapter Ten

Hermione woke up with a splitting headache. She was still shocked from the night before. Her lack of dreams indicated that her subconscious was finally shocked into silence as well. She was feeling sick of being a pawn in someone else's game. It hadn't been so bad when she thought Lucius would use her for a few days. She hadn't cared actually. It was annoying and frustrating, but fundamentally she hadn't cared. But now, he seemed to think this would go on for a while; long enough to affect her interests. Last night had told her that this thing was different from what she thought and the idea that Lucius would take care of her interests, not to mention her needs was beyond disturbing.

Hermione had to seriously consider whether he was totally with it. She had wondered about the sanity of a lot of wizards over the years, and while functional, Lucius Malfoy could well be mad as a march hare. It's not like he was giving much away about what was going on in his head. Obviously something he deemed serious enough to warrant 'taking care' of her and her inferior blood. She wondered again if he was proposing what she heard, maybe it was just a slip because it came across in its context like he would provide whatever male companionship she would need. Maybe he was just trying to control her, knowing full well that she would never go there. She knew he was perceptive, she had even learnt that Draco could pick on any of her emotions, which he would use to his full advantage. Fucking Malfoys.

She also knew that her mudblood flesh was revolting to them. They had made that obvious through the years, love potion besides. She perversely wondered whether he would go through with 'take care of her needs' if she pushed it. If she had Ginny's guts she would call his bluff, but she didn't. If it revolved whipping out a wand, she would be there through thick and thin, but whipping out other stuff wouldn't let her muster her courage.

He was definitely bluffing, she decided. She had always felt safe in his company, especially since she was unquestionably confident that he wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. She had wondered a few times if he would murder her, but she had never felt unsafe when he was around her. Uncomfortable, absolutely. And the idea of spending a week in his, Draco and the other fascists' company, was about as pleasant as catching Dragon Pox. Going would hurt her career, but if she didn't go, Lucius would kill her splendid career. Bastard.

For a second she wondered if it might not be worth it, but she dismissed it as soon as it cropped up. She had fought too long and too hard to give up now. She was also not going to let her career be damaged, she would do both. If she set her mind to it, she could easily do the assignment before having to suffer through a week in hell. With the help of a bit of modern electronics, she could organise and write her preliminary report before going to Malaysia, then finish the report before going off, maybe even finish it in Italy if she had to.

Hermione worked all weekend and made good progress. She booked a spot on the portkey going to Asia for Wednesday, to return Thursday, leaving Friday to finish the report.

The week flew by, as did Malaysia. She didn't really have time to do any sightseeing or even shopping, which was a shame, but she got her interviews done and had managed to find the problems she was looking for.

While she was away, she had received a note from Lucius that they were leaving from Malfoy Manor on Saturday morning. She was too busy and tired to get worked up about it.

She worked like mad on Friday and even managed to work a spell that would transfer her typing, electronically spell checked, to parchment. She delivered the report and returned home for an early night.

She woke to her alarm the next morning feeling she had just shut her eyes. Tension ached through her body. She had about an hour to shower, pack and get over to the Malfoys. In the shower, she realised that being an engagement, Narcissa was going to be there. This only increased the tension headache that was pounding in her head. It was now 8.30 in the morning and Hermione wanted a drink. Foregoing the Scotch, she settled for a strong cup of coffee. It would be quite the sensation if she turned up drunk in the morning. But at least it was Venice and she could always explore the city between being ripped to strips by the pureblood fanatics. She had been once before, but she was eight at the time and only really recalled the different ice creams she had every day.

At nine, she apparated to Malfoy Manor with her small travel trunk in hand. She reached the landing outside the main door, amazed that the wards had not turned her away. She guessed Lucius had augmented them to let her through. How very trusting of him, she thought. The large dark door opened without her knocking and a tiny house elf invited her inside.

Hermione smiled gently at the poor house elf, dressed in some clean but worn rag.

"Miss must wait here," The elf said and turned before Hermione could say anything. Hermione noted the rudeness, but dismissed it as the Malfoys' influence.

She waited in the hall for what must have been five minutes. The walls were high and contained paintings of many Malfoy ancestors. They were all staring at the visitor and Hermione found them creepy. She'd never minded the paintings at Hogwarts but keeping your long dead ancestors on the walls was just creepy in her book. Over to the left was the room she had been tortured in. Just fabulous, she thought to herself. Hanging out at my boyfriend, the Deatheater's house, she thought to herself.

She cursed her black humour, because her reward seemed to be Draco coming down the stairs.

"Mudblood," he said.

"Ferret," she said back, refusing to back out of the staring competition he had brought with him.

Luckily he didn't say anything more, just stood across from her staring and waiting.

"Ah, Miss Granger, good you could come," she heard Lucius' drawl from somewhere behind her. "You are ready then," he said to them both, "The portkey will depart in 90 seconds." It was silent while he held his watch, observing the time.

Hermione had expected Draco to start whining about her, but he did. He didn't stop staring either. While he was silent the hostility was unmistakable.

As time neared, Hermione placed her hand on Lucius' and Draco roughly placed his on top of hers. Hermione felt uncomfortable even before the jerk of the portkey.

They arrived in another hall, much lighter than the Manor one. Still blond paintings on the wall. Although a lot more gold and marble. It was actually very beautiful. The sun was streaming through the windows with an intensity that it never achieved in Britain.

Draco turned and left. Leaving her with Lucius. He looked out of place in his dark robes.

"Come," he indicated. "I will take you to your room, where you can unpack."

"I am not sharing a room with you," Hermione stated.

"You will have your own room, but you will share the apartment," he said back coolly.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but as long as she had her own room, it could mean anything it liked. She followed him in silence as he led her to wherever they were going.

"The style is very Italian," she finally said as they slowed in front of an ornate white and gold door.

"Yes, it is. It is a Venetian Palazzo. They only really come in one style." He opened the door to what was a large living room with a bedroom on each side. This must be the apartment, she thought. The apartment had a large balcony attached, which gave it a fresh airy feel. Lucius pointed her to her room before entering his own. Hermione dumped her trunk and looked around. The room was bare, but it was very ornate. An ornate bed, with a large closet and a substantial mirrored dressing table.

This must have been Narcissa's room, Hermione thought. Maybe they never slept in the same room, Hermione wondered.

"This is going to be painful on so many levels," Hermione said to herself getting the feeling that she was serving a purpose here. She wasn't exactly sure what, but she was sure being here was serving Lucius some purpose. She took a moment to hate him, before turning her attention to the balcony. The sea view was exquisite, the deep blue water was infinitely relaxing. There were more houses around, with walking paths in stone. It wasn't the Venice she had expected. There were no canals and cramped, derelict looking ancient buildings. It all looked very fresh and very Mediterranean.

"This looks more like an island. Where are we?" she asked as she heard Lucius walk up behind her.

"It is an island. This is Venice Minora. It used to be part of muggle Venice as one point, but it was shifted out to sea. Muggle Venice is about 10 kilometres that way," he said, pointing out to sea.

"It was shifted?" she said not quite understanding what he was saying.

"There was a time when wizard society was more integrated with muggle society. Over time sentiments soured and wizard society sought separation, so the wizards shifted their houses out to sea and created this island. We have been coming here for centuries now. The muggles are completely unaware of it of course," he said, standing close enough for the hairs on Hermione's skin to bristle.

"Now what have you brought?" he continued moving into her room. He opened her trunk and went through its contents.

He went through her clothes, turning over her holiday clothes, white shorts, skirts and pants, bright coloured kaftans and summer shoes. Finally he picked up her bikini and held it on one finger.

"Now this will cause a sensation," je said.

"It's a bikini," Hermione said, grasping it off his finger.

"Yes, I know. I was a teenage boy at one time and all teenage boys know about the muggle bikini." He was amused.

"Well, what am I supposed to swim in?" Hermione asked defensively.

"We don't swim."

"What do you mean? You're on an island in the Mediterranean, in late summer, and you don't swim? That's ridiculous! Then what do you do?"

"We take the sun, eat, drink and be merry."

"I wasn't aware you were capable of being merry," Hermione said.

"Well actually, it's not so merry, it just is," he said before turning to leave. "Your clothes are quite obviously muggle, but under the circumstances they will have to do."

"I am practically a muggle after all," she finished for him.

He turned to look at her before affirming.

Lucius had changed into some kind of light gray robe and left to visit someone or other. He ordered her presence at dinner at 6 o'clock.

Hermione took the opportunity to check out the non Venice, Venice island. There were obvious signs that the buildings had been part of Venice at some point. There were mooring poles and rings that had at one point served the canals and she found a strange little bridge over nothing in particular. But there were also charming little squares, cafes and shops along the rocky winding paths between the streets.

The island was full of pureblood wizards from all over Europe. All were wearing white or gray linen robes to keep cool in the summer heat. There were women wearing more colourful robes as well.

Hermione bought herself a sandwich for lunch and explored the shoreline as well. The island wasn't large and she could easily walk around it in a couple of hours if not less. She did find a nice little secluded rocky bay where she could easily go for a swim, and she decided that she would swim every day. Screw the purebloods, let them sit in their robes and cook.