"Very good, Hermione," Narcissa said as she withdrew her wand. "You have mastered the basics of Occlumency."

"If it wasn't for your advice, I couldn't have done it, Narcissa. Thank you." Hermione smiled lightly at the mistress of the Malfoys. "I can get the lessons better with you than with your son."

"I expect he will go easier on you once you complete your training. For one thing, you will no longer need his lessons. You are learning very fast; faster than I have expected, truth be told." Narcissa's sharp blue eyes gazed up at the clock and sighed. "You should get ready. The dark Lord shall be here soon and would want to see you."

"I know. I'm not really worried about see the Dark Lord." Hermione said airily, waving it off as if it was a bothersome fly. "It's Rookwood who needs to be worried. I can't wait to hex him myself. The Dark Lord had all the pleasure of torturing the man."

Narcissa seemed to look at her with unreadable eyes. "Your temper needs to be in check. Your temper always seems to get the best of you and you must exercise your patience."

Hermione didn't seem to hear any of Narcissa's words. She got stood and gave a small curtsy, "I should leave you to get some rest."

Narcissa nodded and watched Hermione leave, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "She is more than we have foreseen, Draco."

A bookshelf behind the desk slid open and the blond man stood at the passage way with a frown on his face. "The Dark Lord will be pleased, there is no doubt, but I am not entirely sure that will be able to use her if this continues. The plan is very unstable, but you have done your part well, mother."

"I am doing my best." Narcissa said and watched her son sit down behind the desk. "You seem to be worried about her."

"I'm not," Draco snapped, but not looking up. "I am worried about the plan because it involves her. If the plan backfires, we will all be in very big trouble. Have you convinced father yet?"

"Nearly. He is afraid, though he doesn't want to admit it."

Draco gave a small nod. "Rest, mother, I cannot afford to be humiliated."

"I understand, Dragon."

"Mother," Draco suddenly said just as Narcissa was about to stand. "Will you make sure that Granger looks presentable? There are some things about her looks that irritates me more than she already does."

Narcissa laughed softly and nodded, "I will try, Dragon."

******

Hermione watched her reflection as she zipped the black dress on, fitting her perfectly. She didn't hate it, but she disliked the way it clung on her body. It was something like Bellatrix would wear, but it wasn't as revealing. It was made from a combination of the finest cloth that could be found. Her shoulders were bare, but the sleeves reached her wrists. It was a dress specially made for her by the order of the Dark Lord.

"Hermione," Narcissa called as she knocked softly and entered. "I thought you might need some help fixing your hair."

"Thank you," Hermione said with much relief and sat before the vanity mirror. "No matter what I do with it, I just can't manage it."

"The secret to it, my dear, is to brush it as often as you could. Can you hand me the brush from the drawer at your left?"

Hermione wanted to raise an eyebrow. All the brushes were at the table already. She pulled the drawer open and found a bejeweled brush inside.

"The families of pure bloods have always made a point to be always presentable. To always look at their best." Narcissa took the brush from Hermione's hand and started to work on her hair. Right before Hermione's eyes, her hair was falling into beautiful curls. The vanity of magic could be seen as it is not only used to cast spells, but improve one's self. "My stars… you look so lovely."

Hermione stared at her reflection in surprise. She was never a vain person, but she could not help it.

"Granger," Draco called, opening the door without even bothering to knock. "It's time to go—"

"Doesn't she look lovely, Dragon?" Narcissa asked her seemed to be frozen son.

Draco cleared his throat and nodded. "Acceptable. They are all waiting down stairs and should not be kept waiting any longer."

Hermione stood with stiff poise and nodded. Draco stood by her side, leasing the way down the dining hall. Death Eaters were already seated around the vast table, Voldemort on the highest chair. It was as if a gust of wind entered the room as they did for all went silent and stared.

"Ms. Granger," Voldemort hissed softly. "Impressive… Very beautiful… I believe I have you to thank, Narcissa."

Narcissa bowed politely and took her seat between her husband and her son.

"Sit," he said, indicating to his immediate left.

Hermione did as instructed and wine appeared before her. "To the Dark Lord," they all said, raising their glasses in honor of Voldemort then drinking the contents and dinner appeared on their plates as usual.

"Tell me, Ms. Granger, how are the lessons coming along?" Voldemort asked as casual as asking about her day.

"Very well, my Lord. I think I have made much progress." Hermione answered calmly. "Malfoy has been teaching me a lot."

"Very good… Tell me, what are your friends up to?"

"Friends?" Hermione laughed. "You mean Potter and Weasley? I have no idea, my Lord. Potter doesn't talk to me as much as he talks with Weasley—I expect it's because I'm a girl and couldn't help them in any way."

"Girl? I think not. I see a very beautiful and very talented woman."

"She could be lying, my Lord," Bellatrix interrupted. All eyes suddenly turned to her direction in surprise. Only she had the guts to disrupt such a private conversation. "She was with Potter when he tried to save the prophecy."

"Bellatrix, if you haven't notice that night that I didn't even know what we were doing there? All I knew was that he needed to go there for Sirius because he was being tortured or something like that. Luna was there, so was Ginny, and I think you already know Neville."

"A very logical answer," said Voldemort.

"But my Lord—"

"Was it not obvious enough that I was left with Ginny and the others to stand guard for who knows what and Weasley knew exactly where Potter was? For once in your life, Bellatrix, use your common sense."

Bellatrix's eyes went wide at Hermione's insult, but Voldemort seemed satisfied.

"Don't worry, Ms. Granger, here you will be treated as an equal."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled and inclined her head. "But there is something that I can tell you. Potter cannot help but play the hero, especially if he knows it's his fault. He can be easily trapped like a little mouse."

Voldemort sat straight, a gleam in his eyes. "Very well… You have proven yourself worthy. Wormtail!" he called across the table. "Go fetch it."

The small man scampered in a hurry to obey his master's wish and returned carrying a leather case.

"I believe it was your birthday last nineteenth of September, was it not?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"A gift from your master." Voldemort opened the case and showed all of them a handsomely made leather battle glove with a silver S shaped by a snake with gleaming emerald green eyes.

"A battle glove, my Lord?"

"Not an ordinary battle glove. During the golden days of magic battle gloves were worn by the best of the best wizards. They were not bought but made for those who deserve it. No one in this time has it but me. Its leather is made out of dragon skin, the snake from pure silver, and those are real emeralds.

"My Lord," Bellatrix interrupted again, eyes going wide. "Do you think it is… wise to give such an important gift the girl? Maybe you should give it to one of us who have served you faithfully all these years? I think that—"

But Bellatrix was silenced as Voldemort raised an impatient hand. "Yes, Ballatrix, as I always make wise decisions," he said in a menacing hiss and deadly glare. He turned back his attention to Hermione in what seemed to be a curved smile. "Take it… It is yours."

Hermione took the glove and slowly slipped it on. She could feel the power coursing through her. It was no ordinary glove. It was made by the Dark Lord himself. It was a special object that was made out of something more than dragon skin. She examined the head, runnning her finger on the cold, delicate silver snake.

"It is beautiful..." she breathed, looking up at Voldemort with such admiration that no one had seen in her eyes before. "Thank you."

A/n:

and finally I'm able to upload another chapter. Sorry for the long long long long long wait. This chapter is important. Guessed my clues already? Let me know! I'm already working on the next chapter and I think it won't take that long.

Reviews are much appreciated!

_patz_