Chapter Ten
Malfoy Manor loomed up ahead causing Hermione's heart rate to steadily increase to what she feared might be a dangerous pace. Was she too young to have a massive heart attack? She hadn't been in the best of health since she left her parents' house almost two years earlier. Maybe all of the stress, near starvation and curses she sustained in the final months of the war weakened her body. Nineteen year olds don't usually die of cardiac arrest, but seeing the location of the scariest single night of her life made her worry she might become the exception that proved the rule.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Antonin asked, careful to keep his voice low enough for only her ears.
She could feel her eyes begin to fill up with tears as the memory of another March evening ran through her mind. Antonin's reassuring squeeze of her hand brought her a small amount of comfort that she appreciated immensely. She tried to blink away her tears before looking up into his worried face with a small smile.
"I didn't exactly have the best visit the last time I was here. Just kind of struck me when I saw the house. I'll be all right in just a moment."
With a tightened grip of Antonin's arm she allowed him to lead her into the manor after the long walk up the drive. All of the wizards around her began speaking with their host once inside the entrance hall, but Hermione didn't hear a word they said. She knew she was hurting Antonin's hand with the strength of her nervous squeeze. He never said anything. Simply allowed her to cling to the one somewhat friendly ally she had in the manor. When they crossed the threshold into the drawing room she was a bit concerned she might faint.
"Draco, come greet our guests," ordered Lucius Malfoy.
Her school rival wasted no time in walking across the room to where they were standing. He had the warmest smile across his handsome face that Hermione had ever seen. In the past he'd only looked down his nose at her with hurtful sneers or insulting smirks. The expression changed the entire look of his face making him appear even more handsome. To say she was surprised when he gently squeezed her shoulders in an affectionate manner and then actually brushed his lips across her cheek would be an understatement of epic proportions. If he had approached her the same way in the past she would've been positive he was being disingenuous, but for whatever reason, she could sense his true feelings at that moment. He was pleased to see her standing in the very room she was once tortured in.
"Luna sends her love," he whispered directly into her ear. "We have been very worried about you."
When he broke away from the embrace she couldn't stop herself from staring up into his grey eyes with an expression of confusion and awe across her countenance. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes again. What could he possibly have meant? Luna? Luna Lovegood? Where was she and how could she be in contact with Draco Malfoy? A million more questions raced through her mind as she once more allowed Antonin to lead her across the room. He enlarged an armchair with a simple Transfiguration spell before carefully helping her lower herself down on the loveseat.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked once more.
She tried to assure him with a silent smile that she would be all right. His intense dark brown eyes continued to examine her as she ignored the conversations around her and practically chugged the red wine Lucius offered her down. After several minutes of inane discussion that Hermione cared nothing for, they were all joined by a pretty witch several years older than she was. Lucius placed a swift kiss on the woman's cheek as he introduced her to the assembled guests. The two women caught each other's eyes across the room and despite having never laid eyes on the witch in her life, that she was aware of anyway, Hermione couldn't help but feel as if she knew Lucius' goddaughter.
"This is Antonin Dolohov and his consort Hermione Granger," Lucius said as he introduced Miss Black around.
Hermione glared at Lucius before shaking her hand. It was obvious even to a stranger how nervous Miss Black was to be around so much company. Hermione could sympathize. If she'd had her way she'd still be back at the other manor snuggled up with Argos alone in the library.
"Have you met her before?" Antonin asked in a whisper once they settled back down on the loveseat.
"I don't think so," she admitted.
"She seemed to know you."
"I'm sure she's seen my photograph in the papers. Have you forgotten how bloody famous I am?"
Antonin narrowed his eyes at the response, but did not continue to press her for more information. She was too old to have attended Hogwarts at the same time as Hermione, so she assumed that she must have just been following the news of her capture and the farce of a trial she was forced to endure. Of course there were plenty of people that Hermione had met over the years since joining the wizarding world. Was she expected to recognize every single one of them? At the risk of sounding like a spoiled Hollywood starlet, should she really be expected to remember everyone that she was introduced to? Against her wishes, Hermione was one of the most famous witches in the country. It wouldn't even much of a stretch to claim the title of "Most Famous Muggle Born" either. She was one of the worst offenders in the eyes of the Ministry's Muggle Born Registration Commission. They'd been looking for her since before Harry was murdered.
"And finally, this gentleman is Mr. Vince Crabbe," Lucius said, taking Miss Black around to the last Death Eater assembled in the room.
Crabbe wasted no time in taking her hand to press it his lips. Hermione certainly couldn't blame the woman for immediately ripping her hand out of his grasp and for the horrified expression that crossed her face. Crabbe was disgusting. Even worse than his idiot son who once tried to murder three of his classmates. It took Hermione approximately half a second after meeting the elder Crabbe to be completely unnerved and repulsed. His eyes always gave the impression that he was imagining just exactly what you looked like underneath your robes. No doubt he was one of the ones that Lord Voldemort used to implement his sexual tortures of various enemies. Antonin all but confirmed that fact when he expressly forbade Hermione from ever being alone in the same room with the wizard.
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Black," Crabbe crooned, either ignoring or completely ignorant of the sickened look the witch was giving him.
Lucius placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back to lead her away from the others. When she was seated in a chair directly across from Hermione, the younger witch smiled at her in a show of solidarity. She understood all too well what it was like to be forced to socialize with the dregs of society. She did so frequently at Lestrange's manor.
"I understand, Miss Black, that you have been living in America since you were a young child," Rabastan said, also ignoring the tension that was ever-present in the room. "How long will our country be privileged to experience your presence?"
Hermione rolled her eyes as she gulped down another full glass of wine. Her host certainly knew how to lay it on thick. She wondered if Rabastan knew how completely transparent he was at all times. Did he really believe he was as smooth of an operator as he believed he was? Azkaban obviously rotted his brain, she thought.
"Yes, I moved to the states when I was ten," Miss Black answered. "I'm not sure yet how long I will be staying."
"Eleanor requested that I take her daughter under my wing and attempt to cure her of some of her more American conducts," explained Lucius with a hint of a shudder.
"An indefinite visit, then? How marvelous." Rabastan winked at the embarrassed witch which only caused her cheeks to flush a brilliant crimson.
There was a slight lull in the conversations. No one seemed to know how to proceed. Hermione found herself staring at the mantel clock watching the hands tick by.
"Miss Black, I noticed the brace on your wrist," continued Rabastan after a time. "Did you injure yourself?"
Isla Black-Fawley instinctively pulled her injured wrist closer to her body with her uninjured hand. It was obviously a subject that she didn't wish to discuss, but no one had ever accused Rabastan Lestrange of being observant when it came to social cues.
"I had a bit of a fall shortly after I arrived," she explained, her voice hardly louder than a whisper.
"Oh no! Lucius, you must take better care of your guests!" Rabastan admonished. "What happened?"
Her cheeks reminded Hermione strongly of the manner in which Ron used to blush when he was angry. Poor girl. She dropped her eyes to the floor. Thankfully, Lucius took pity on his goddaughter.
"I am afraid she fell off her broom," Lucius explained. "She was flying over the estate grounds and lost her balance, poor thing. Fell twenty feet straight to the ground and landed on her wrist."
"How awful!" Rabastan exclaimed and Crabbe agreed. "I'm glad to see that you didn't fall on your pretty little neck, Miss Black."
She dropped her eyes once more to the floor. Hermione immediately felt protective of the woman despite their differences in ages. The women had something in common. Neither of them wanted to be stuck in that room for a moment longer. Unfortunately for Hermione however, she was magically tied to Antonin's waist. She was stuck until he was ready to leave.
"It was a simple break," Lucius continued. "I was able to heal it without any issue, but it was recommended that she keep her wrist in that brace for a couple of weeks until it was stronger."
"Well, that is good to hear. Lucius, please try to take better care of your lovely goddaughter. I'd hate to come back to visit only to learn that she's fallen down the stairs or tripped into the fountains," Rabastan laughed.
"I promise."
Hermione was anxious to leave the home as soon as possible. Why she ever allowed Antonin to drag her out to visit the one place she had no desire to ever return to, she was unsure. Well, it wasn't exactly like she had much of a choice. He would've made her attend with him regardless of her own personal desires. She leaned back in the loveseat and stopped paying attention to the conversations around the room.
She wasn't sure how much time passed with Rabastan asking increasingly impertinent questions of the woman. Time seemed to drag even more slowly than usual in the drawing room. Maybe there were remnants of Dark Magic left over from the Dark Lord's temporary residence? Hermione would not have been surprised to find traces of Dark Magic in every corner of every room in the horrible place. How any person could willingly live in such a place was beyond her. Yes, the furnishings were luxurious and quite lovely. She imagined that Lucius Malfoy would never dare to rest his precious skin on anything less than 1500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. The wine cellar in that house must also be incredible, but nothing could induce her to spend even one night there of her own free will.
The discussion quickly moved on to Rabastan's ridiculous party in May. It was no surprise that he all but insisted that Miss Black attend as his personal guest. The woman seemed uncomfortable by all of the attention. Rabastan then went on to be sure to invite Lucius as well to make her feel a bit more at ease. Hermione sighed. She'd rarely been so bored. At that moment she would've gladly joined in on a conversation about Quidditch if it would get Lestrange to stop talking for a moment. Antonin periodically made an addition to the overall discussion, but Hermione had nothing to say. She didn't want to actually encourage anyone present to speak to her directly. Except maybe for Draco. She was anxious to find out what he meant about Luna. It was the first she'd heard about the eccentric girl since the day of the final battle Rabastan was so keen on celebrating.
"You must come, Miss Black," Rabastan all but begged. "Lucius, please bring your lovely goddaughter. I cannot imagine throwing such a celebration without her in attendance."
"I am not sure…" began Lucius.
"Nonsense! You are both coming. What better way to ensure that she meets all of the right people? I am certain Eleanor would approve," he continued.
The American-raised witch seemed as excited by the prospect of the party as Hermione was. Hermione could certainly sympathize on yet one more item. Privately she wondered if she could feign some disgusting illness that day to be allowed to stay locked up inside her bedroom. Probably not. Antonin would figure out I wasn't sick and I'd never hear the end of it. If she could somehow make herself actually sick… It was an idea that had some merit.
"Will all of the loyal followers of the Dark Lord be attending, Mr. Lestrange?" asked Miss Black with a voice quiet enough that she was almost ignored completely by the assembled group.
Rabastan turned his brightest smile on the woman. He actually seemed almost normal that evening to Hermione's amusement. Lately he'd grown ever more disgusting and exhausting with the innuendos and glances in her direction that needed no interpretation when Antonin was not around. On more than one occasion she had walked out of her bathroom after Antonin had left the manor for a summons or to complete one of the mysterious errands he was always running only to find Rabastan either just entering the bedroom or just exiting. Argos had been mysteriously struck with a silencing spell a couple of times after one of these incidents. While she was fully aware that Antonin frequently silenced her dog while he was trying to sleep at night no matter how hard he tried to hide the fact from her, he always released the spell in the mornings when he awoke. After informing her "protector" of her suspicions about Rabastan entering their room when she was alone in the bath or shower, Antonin informed her that unfortunately there were no wards that could keep the master of the manor out. He simply asked her to remain vigilant and to always take Argos with her into the bathroom from then on. She promised, but now preferred to wait to bathe until she knew Antonin was home and preferably on the other side of the bathroom door. If Rabastan could turn his creepy obsession into Miss Black's direction, she would welcome the change. Lucius was a capable enough wizard to keep his goddaughter adequately protected.
"I have extended an invitation to all of my fellow Dark Lord supporters, Miss Black. I imagine that a great many of them will be planning on attending," he answered. Rabastan stopped for a moment before turning his widest smile back on the young woman. "My dear, is there someone in particular that you are hoping will attend?"
Miss Black's cheeks blushed furiously once more that evening before she dropped her eyes to examine the rug. She was not a woman in complete control of her emotions. Poor girl, Hermione thought despite the fact that she had to be at least five or six years younger. You won't survive long in this world if you can't keep your emotions under control better than that. An almost awkward spattering of laughter sounded across the room.
"Lucius, old man, have you been introducing your beautiful goddaughter around to younger, more handsome wizards?" tsked Rabastan in a playful tone. "How am I expected to compete?"
Lucius gave Rabastan a tight smile. Hermione wished she could curse both men into oblivion. She didn't care if Lucius was Draco's father and her former rival was bringing her messages from one of the people in her life she longed to see again. Hermione would gladly submit herself to a three hour lecture about the elusive Crumple Horned Snorkack if it meant she could see Luna's beautiful, dreamy face again.
"We will make every effort to attend, Rabastan," promised Lucius.
"Excellent! Draco, you are, of course, invited to attend as well."
"Thank you, Rabastan. If my schedule will allow it, I would be delighted to attend," Draco replied with a nod in Lestrange's direction.
"Try to tear yourself away from the Umbridge Home for a night, Draco my boy," laughed Vince.
Hermione's head immediately snapped into Draco's direction after Crabbe's comment. Her eyes met his cool grey eyes for half a second before his pale visage turned slightly pink with embarrassment. While she could never claim to actually know Draco Malfoy very well, she certainly couldn't imagine that he was one of those disgusting creatures who took pleasure in participating in what Antonin called government sanctioned rape. His blushed cheeks, however, told a completely different story. Hermione felt her stomach churn at the thought.
"Lucius, were you aware that you will soon be a grandfather?" asked Crabbe.
Lucius glared in the other wizard's direction. He was, apparently, very aware of that fact and did not seem in the least bit pleased to be reminded.
"Draco, she's a pretty little thing too," Crabbe continued. "A bit dotty for my tastes, but a fine looking young witch nonetheless."
Draco's knuckles were turning white where he was gripping his wine glass. Hermione almost wished it would break in his hand if what Crabbe was saying was the truth. She could almost hear his teeth grinding in anger as well. Vince noticed nothing and Rabastan was too amused to care. No one else in the room was laughing.
"It's simply too bad that you're not married, Lucius," Rabastan said with a sneer. "You could adopt your grandchild. There's no telling where it might end up now. At least you don't need to worry about it ending up in the home of a blood traitor or Merlin forbid, a Mudblood."
Rabastan caught Hermione's narrowed eyes and smiled.
"Even if Antonin was finally able to make his bonding with Miss Granger a reality as he so longs for," Rabastan continued ignoring the deathly frightening glower on Antonin's face. "They would never be approved by the Ministry to adopt an Umbridge baby. Even with only one Mudblood the adoption would be denied. That, Lucius, must be at least some comfort."
A wine glass finally was shattered in the drawing room, and to Hermione's great surprise, it was her own bursting into millions of pieces in her hand. She leveled a steely scowl in Rabastan's direction for several moments before dropping her eyes to her bloody appendage. Antonin was already attempting to clean the miniscule shards of glass out of her open wounds. Her anger was strong enough that she still hadn't felt any pain.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Lucius, rising quickly from his seat with his handkerchief at the ready. "Draco, please take Miss Granger into the kitchen to clean that wound. It looks pretty nasty and I would hate for it to get infected."
Draco immediately rose from his chair to do as his father bid. Hermione tried to follow suit, but Antonin kept her seated on the loveseat next to him. She was not in the mood to deal with Antonin's recent possessiveness. It was, to be perfectly honest, a little hot in the beginning. After several weeks of it she was getting annoyed. She glared into the face of the wizard still grasping her wrist.
"Seriously, Antonin?" she said in a whisper that no one else could hear. The last thing she wanted to do was to shame or embarrass him in front of the others. Nothing good ever happened after she'd inadvertently committed those cardinal sins in the past. "I will just be in the other room. I'm not leaving the manor."
"Please do not fear for Miss Granger, Antonin," Lucius said with a false smile splashed across his handsome features. "She will be perfectly safe with my son. They were old school mates. We have some potions in the kitchen that will take care of her wounds and prevent even a hint of a scar."
Antonin narrowed his eyes in Lucius' direction. It was obvious to Hermione that the two of them had a history that was perhaps better left undiscussed. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with their egos. Pain was beginning to shoot up her hand. Draco had already gently removed her hand from Antonin's grasp to take a closer look at the injury. Reluctantly, Antonin allowed her to rise from the seat. He cast a spell in Hermione's direction without anyone noticing before she could even move a step. The fury in Hermione's eyes when she felt the renewed tugging at her waist would've made any of her past acquaintances squirm in their seats, but Antonin was not moved. He carefully pulled her down to whisper in her ear.
"I've increased the tether," he explained. "But you won't be able to get too far away from me, Hermione. Certainly won't be able to leave the manor and apparate away with Malfoy."
"Goddamn it, Antonin!" she hissed. "I'm not a fucking dog!"
All of the ears in the room had the manners to ignore the fact that she was certainly not responding to Antonin in the same low tone of voice that he initially spoke to her with. Her anger was evident to all assembled. A slight curling of the corner of Rabastan's and Lucius' mouths proved that they were unintentionally providing quality entertainment for the room.
"If you're away from me for too long, it will compel you to return," he continued still in a light whisper. He was not even paying attention to the others in the room.
"Fine."
Draco led her back towards the door that opened into the Entrance Hall. Before they were able to cross the threshold Lucius made Draco promise that before they returned they would head down into the wine cellar for some more bottles. The unexpected company left the drawing room dry. Antonin's exasperated response to his request only served to humor both Lucius and Hermione. At least they seemed to have one thing in common: enjoying making Antonin aggravated.
The younger wizard did not say a single word to Hermione as he walked down a long, dark hallway towards the back of the manor. Hermione wasn't exactly frightened by the prospect of being alone in an empty part of the house with the boy who tried to make her school years miserable, but she certainly was unnerved by him not speaking a single word. When she tried to engage him in conversation, he practically hissed at her to shut up and wait. A few minutes later, the house really was quite large, he pushed open the door to a large, empty kitchen. Hermione loved it immediately. It was the kind of place that she could imagine spending hours in with loved ones seated around the ancient plank table in the middle of the room. Draco held out a chair and as soon as Hermione was seated, he crossed the massive expanse to open a cabinet filled with potions vials.
"Your cuts don't look too deep," Draco said when he sat down in the chair next to hers. "Shouldn't take too long to clean out all of the glass. Looks like Dolohov got most of it out already."
She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze when he brought up the wizard she had been living with for almost two months. He chose to ignore the tension. Silently and deftly, he was able to clean out the dozens of small cuts all over her hand with hardly any additional pain felt on her part. When they were cleaned out with a couple of different potions she was certain she learned how to brew in Professor Snape's class, he ran his wand over the marks to make them disappear completely. Lucius had not been merely boasting when he said that his son could make certain she had no lingering scars.
"Thank you. I appreciate your kindness," she said when he finished.
"Nothing to worry about, Granger. It was my fault that you were placed in that position. Though I'm certain that you've been living under Lestrange's roof for any length of time that that wasn't the first time you had the urge to crush a glass in your hands."
A quiet, unladylike snort escaped from her at the comment. He was certainly not wrong. When his smiling eyes met hers again she felt almost calm. Somehow in the almost two years since they'd really spent any length of time around the other, Draco Malfoy had changed for the better. He used to only make her feel anger and even at times embarrassment and shame with his barbed comments and frequent use of slurs that most others wouldn't dream of using in her hearing. For the first time since she was picked up from the streets of Inverness by Antonin and Albert Runcorn on that freezing January night, she felt like she was in the company of someone that she could completely relax around. Even with her renewed and improved relationship with Antonin following the dismal dinner party she had not felt this at ease.
"Come on, Granger, let's get down to the cellar and back up before Dolohov wets himself."
She laughed again and allowed him to clasp her hand in his. They walked further down the long hallway in silence. Any time she tried to ask a question he would squeeze her hand and ask her to simply 'wait'. It was bloody frustrating. By the time they descended the slick, stone staircase into the massive Malfoy wine cellar, she was ready to steal his wand and curse him for his reluctance to answer her questions.
"All right, Granger," he said, dropping her hand so he could walk over to the wine racks. "Ask your first question. We will not be overheard in here."
"Where is Luna?"
The dimness of the ancient room served to hide his face in shadows, but she could tell he was upset simply by the dropping of his usually proud shoulders. Draco reached up to remove several bottles of wine before answering.
"Luna is currently an inmate of the Umbridge Home for Young Ladies. Are you aware of what that is?"
Hermione gasped at the knowledge even though she was not surprised. Suspecting and knowing were two completely different things.
"Yes."
Draco groaned. He ran his hands through his perfectly coiffed blonde hair in a mannerism that was strikingly similar to Harry.
"I'm not a horrible person, Granger."
"I never said you were," she replied before she stopped herself with what felt like an inappropriate laugh. "Well, I have said you were a horrible person before, but I don't actually believe it any longer. You proved there was a hint of a good person inside of you that night that you refused to identify Harry when Greyback brought us here."
He gave her a slight smile before continuing.
"I never wanted to go, but I didn't have much of a choice," he explained. "That first night, I mean. Several of the other Death Eaters at the castle thought it would be funny to drag me to the Umbridge Home. Seemed to think that I needed to be made a man of, however ridiculous that sounds. The Home hadn't been open for very long. A week, maybe? Two? I knew what happened there or at least I'd heard rumors. I would've done just about anything to get out of going, but they were persistent. Said that the Dark Lord would want me to do my part to ensure that the noble Home was successful."
He scoffed at the thought.
"They lined them all up waiting for us. It was disgusting. I'm not sure how many were there. Fifteen? Twenty? I knew every single one of them, Hermione. These were all girls that I'd grown up with, sat in classes with, bullied in the corridors even. The first witch I ever kissed was standing there in the line just waiting for some disgusting, feral man to drag her off into a private room and rape her."
He moved closer to stand in the light. Hermione could see his cheeks were flushing red with either embarrassment or just the sheer emotion of telling the story he seemed reluctant to tell.
"Bet you didn't know there was a time in my second year that I had a bit of a thing for a Hufflepuff, did you?" he asked, smiling sheepishly at her and winking. She couldn't help but snort once more in laughter. "Best you not tell my father. He would be so embarrassed. Or actually, maybe not. The war has certainly changed his opinions on a lot of other things. I imagine his opinions on Hufflepuffs have changed dramatically in recent weeks."
"I promise."
"Susan Bones and I used to sneak into an unused classroom on the third floor to snog. Three of the best weeks of my life."
Hermione laughed to keep herself from crying. She had no clue. While she and Susan weren't exactly close even after being in the DA together, she certainly had no idea that the quiet, red-haired Hufflepuff used to sneak into abandoned classrooms with the Slytherin prince. No doubt they both kept that secret pretty quiet from members of both of their Houses.
"She was so angry when she saw me. I thought I was going to be sick. She actually spit on me. Yelled at me and called me a disgusting traitor. I couldn't argue with her. Amycus Carrow liked her. Said she had spirit before he dragged her off still screaming at me. If she hadn't been screaming at me from the very first moment, I probably would've picked Susan. I was dying to talk to her, to find out if she was all right. Amycus prevented that.
"Even though I had less than zero desire to be there for a moment longer, the others were adamant that I pick someone. All of the girls were crying. Could you blame them? All of them except for Luna. She just stood there with that wistful expression she's always had. Acted as if she were waiting for a play to begin or if she were enjoying a quiet day at the park. Because she wasn't crying Cadmus Mulciber said he wanted to make her cry. I pushed him out of the way and claimed Luna for myself."
Draco stopped for a moment before continuing. Hermione hardly dared to breathe. She could see his shoulders, much broader than they had been when they were in sixth year, slowly begin to bow with the tension he was feeling telling his horrible story. Hermione closed the distance between them to place a comforting hand on his elbow. He looked up into her eyes to smile a haunted smile, but still thankful for the attempt at solace.
"I used to sneak down into the cellar when Luna was held prisoner here. Father and Mother did what they could to keep Aunt Bella and the others from hurting her whenever possible, but when I was home I took it upon myself to bring their meals downstairs and check on her and Mr. Ollivander. She was incredible. Even in the worst circumstances she would say the most insightful things that made me feel like I was just a person, not a demented follower of an evil overlord. She could stare right through me. I've never, never experienced anything similar to that. After that first night with her…"
He faltered in his story. When he turned his face away from Hermione's to face the darkness, she could see the tears rolling down his cheeks. This was not a Draco Malfoy she had ever seen before.
"Did you fall in love with her?" Hermione asked, certain she already knew the answer.
Draco rotated back around to meet her eyes. The tears were still there, but the smile was remarkable.
"That first night I did. When I realized that it was in my power to keep her protected from anyone else, I claimed her as my 'favorite'. They actually will allow the visitors to claim a girl if they so choose. Guess it keeps the Minister for Magic from being forced to shag the leftovers of the lowliest Death Eater. With my limited influence I've been able to keep her as safe as I possibly can. I can't get her out, but I can make certain that she isn't forced to submit herself to one of those fucking lineups ever again."
Hermione reached over to take his hand in hers once more. She squeezed it once before dropping it again.
"Thank you, Draco. Thank you for doing what you can to protect my friend in what must be the most fucked-up situation imaginable."
"We're getting them all out."
The last sentence was spoken in a whisper as if he were afraid that someone else would overhear. Hermione almost missed the impact of his statement.
"I'm not supposed to tell anyone. Father isn't entirely certain that you haven't been turned by Dolohov, but I know. I can tell. Even if you hadn't teared up the moment I gave you Luna's message upstairs, breaking the bloody glass in your hand certainly gave away your true feelings."
"Who is getting them all out? What do you mean?"
"The Resistance. One of the Weasleys has some grand plan to get into the building and save everyone. It's going to take some time, but we're going to do it. Longbottom promised me that I could take Luna out that night. Hide her somewhere. I'm hopeful that we can get her out before the baby is born. I can't imagine having to give our child away to some disgusting Ministry-approved couple. They're liable to end up stuck with someone horrible."
"You've spoken with Neville?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her heart was beating furiously with every word that came out of his mouth.
"Just a few days ago actually. I've been helping them to get more information about the inside of the Home. When I can, I pass them information about the security, layout, who works there. Whatever I can really. Usually all I can do is pass the information to Father and he gets it to Longbottom or to Shacklebolt."
"Your father is part of the Resistance?!"
She was certain she had heard it all. Even though she knew the end of the war had been harder on the Malfoys than most, she still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that both father and son seemed so entrenched in the rebellious activities plaguing the new regime. It was very much out of character even if Lucius admitted to her in a clandestine murmur over soup that Lord Voldemort blasted his Dark Mark off his arm for his wife's treachery in the final battle. At least his persistent questioning in the corridor about whether or not Antonin was treating her well made sense. No doubt he had orders from Kingsley or someone else she loved to find out as much as he could about her welfare. Knowing that made her feel more than a little guilty that she'd been so rude.
"No one suspects the Malfoys to switch to the other side no matter how often the Dark Lord likes to kick us when we're down," Draco replied, bitterness dripping from every word he spoke.
Hermione felt the tiniest of tugging from the invisible bond around her waist. Obviously Antonin felt she'd been gone for too long. She picked up a few of the bottles Draco removed from the wine rack before turning towards the stairs. If she wasn't back in the drawing room in a few minutes she had no doubt that Antonin would be searching for her. When she silently headed for the stairs, Draco followed.
They reached the entrance hall before the insistent tugging on her waist became uncomfortable. Draco held open the door to the drawing room to allow her to enter just as the intruder alarms started going off indicating that another person had arrived at the gates. Lucius calmly passed by here in the hall to open the front door. An obviously ill at ease Thorfinn Rowle stood at the door. Hermione stopped moving towards the open door to the room where she knew Antonin was impatiently waiting for her return.
"Thorfinn, what an unexpected surprise," Lucius said as he invited the man in.
"I'm sorry for coming by uninvited, Lucius, but when I stopped by the Lestrange Manor to speak with Rabastan his house elf told me that I could find him here. Thought about waiting for his return, but didn't fancy sitting in an empty house."
His blue eyes fell on Hermione at just that very moment. With a smirk that completely changed his countenance, Thorfinn winked at the witch. She rolled her eyes and turned to head into the drawing room. Before she moved a step his massive hand stopped her with a gentle pressure on her forearm.
"Good evening, Princess. What a pleasant surprise."
"Thorfinn." She nodded in his direction and pulled her arm out of his grasp. "I'm not sure 'pleasant' is the word I would use to describe your presence."
"You wound me, Princess," he laughed. He leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her cheeks. His lips lingered next to ear for a few seconds longer to whisper. "When are you going to ditch Antonin and run away with me?"
She snorted at his question before laughing loud enough to actually startle both Lucius and Draco. Thorfinn wasn't offended by her reaction. The same smirk he had on his face when he was teasing her in the library during the dinner party appeared.
"Bring me actual proof that the Crumple Horned Snorkack exists and I will be glad to run away with you," she said, soliciting amused snickers from Draco.
She winked at the younger blonde wizard before turning away from Thorfinn. Rowle was even more amused with her response than he had been with her snort. She placed the bottles of wine down on a side table before resuming her seat next to Antonin.
"What took so long?" he demanded in a quiet hiss.
"Have you ever been down in the cellar? It's bloody massive, Antonin," she replied, choosing to ignore his furious expression. "This house is massive. Took a while."
Hermione turned away from the obviously angry Death Eater. No doubt she would hear more questions about her interlude with Draco before the evening was over. He probably wasn't going to allow her to sleep before he was satisfied that she'd answered all of his questions.
"Can we leave soon?" she asked. "I'm exhausted and Thorfinn just showed up. Not too anxious to spend any amount of time with that man."
Antonin was surprised to hear that his former partner had arrived while she was outside in the Entrance Hall. They both turned their attention towards the door. Lucius graciously led the new arrival into the drawing room. He'd only been inside the room for moments before the greetings were interrupted by the sound of a glass shattering on the hardwood floor. Hermione's head shot up to meet Miss Black's uneasy eyes. Rowle repaired the broken glass with a single incantation with his wand.
"Are you all right, miss?" he asked the unfamiliar witch with what could almost pass as concern.
"I'm fine. Thank you. I apologize. Just slipped right out of my hands. My wrist still isn't very strong."
She couldn't meet Thorfinn's eyes or really anyone else's. Lucius was only steps behind Rowle. He moved closer to help the agitated witch up from her chair.
"Isla darling, I am afraid this evening has been too taxing. You are still recovering," said Lucius as he guided her towards the door to the drawing room. "Perhaps you should go on up to bed. It is growing rather late."
Once Miss Black was safely escorted out of the room by her godfather, Hermione begged Antonin again to leave. Bed sounded like just what she needed as well. He couldn't quite hide the scowl he shot in Draco's direction from her as they bade their goodbyes.
"Please don't force me to ever return to this house," she begged Antonin just as he prepared to apparate them both outside the gates.