Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But on that subject, I WOULD like a
pony. OH! And a really cool minicooper. And some sorbet. Ooooooo, how I
love sorbet!
A/N: My longest chapter yet, and I think my best. Thank you so much for all your cool reviews! Those are what keep me writing, so this is really all your doing!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning dawned gray for Hermione, who awoke the next morning in Draco's room, her head lying painfully on a stack of books on the floor. She had refused to leave Draco, who had been talking and moaning in his fevered sleep. He was still asleep, but at peace at the moment.
She crept out of his room after covering him with a light coverlet and crept down the halls, trying vainly to find her own bedroom.
"It's like a labyrinth." She thought as she walked down the dim hallway. "You'd think they'd have a directory or something." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dreams raged inside of Draco's head, sending him tumbling into an abyss of his innermost secrets and desires, and he couldn't wake up....and the fever raged on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione reached the staircase leading downstairs and gave up. She would have to wait until someone woke up and she could ask them. She walked downstairs over to a window and pulled back the heavy curtains. The light came in cold and gray, piercing the darkness that kept resolutely present. Frost glittered across the moor like a huge spider web, and she could already see the gardeners defrosting the bushes and clipping stray branches. With gray clothes and pale skin, they seemed as white as the scenery they were tending to.
"Close the curtains."
Hermione swung around, nearly tripping over the heavy curtains, and stumbled forward. The curtains swung back in place, throwing the hallway into its usual darkness. Before Hermione could get her bearing back, a hand gripped her arm and dragged her out of the kitchen door. She stood, blinking in the morning light until the hand gripping her arm swung her around and she met the cold face of Lucius.
Lucius was dressed in all gray, like the gardeners, and his shoulder length silver hair shone like the frost on the moor. The hand that didn't have hold of Hermione was holding a cane, silver tipped and black. Hermione tugged her arm out of his grasp and stood rubbing the sore spot. Lucius leaned back against the door, fingering the silver on his cane.
"I trust we've treated you well so far in your stay here at Malfoy Manor?" Lucius said unsmilingly. Hermione rubbed her arm, eyeing the cane. Lucius sneered, his lip curling up over his teeth.
"I've been fine."
"Good." Lucius straightened. "That's very good. In that case, I'd like to move on to the reason we're out here.."
"I was wondering.." Hermione muttered under her breath. Lucius threw up his cane, making Hermione step back. Lucius caught it near the end, twisting it up behind his shoulder, and stepped forward.
"I don't know why you're here. I don't want to hear your explanation, but if you think I'm stupid than you're painfully wrong." Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "The Ministry didn't question why someone like you would want to spend their holiday here, and my son is obviously too stupid to care. But I-"
He breathed in and straightened his coat. Hermione looked around her, trying to figure out a quick method of escape if he should come after her.
"Do you understand?"
Hermione looked back at Lucius, who was leaning against the door, blocking her only way of escape. An overwhelming hate grew inside her as she imagined the last two days.
"So, did you get home alright last night?" She said, matching Lucius's glare with one equally as cold.
"Meaing what?" Lucius asked menacingly.
"Nothing. I just didn't think you'd be in contact with Voldemort so soon. I would think that with the Ministry breathing down your neck and your busy schedule of beating your son you'd at least wait a few days until you went back to being a traitor."
It took a moment for Lucius to register the insult, but when it did he snarled and grabbed her wrists.
"Good god, let go-" Hermione started, but Lucius kneed her painfully in the stomach and pulled her back up by the wrists, where she hung coughing.
"If I find that you're here for any other reason than to enjoy your holidays, the Gryffindors will find themselves short one crony." He let go of her wrists and opened the kitchen door. Hermione, still weak and catching breath, supported herself on the porch railing.
"Let Potter do his own work next time. Don't let him get you killed for his lack of balls." Lucius walked into the kitchen, letting the door swing closed shut behind him. Hermione hung onto the railing, letting the cold wind blow her hair over her face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco was dreaming.....
Draco was sitting with his mother in her bedroom. She was reading to him, his head nestled warmly in her lap, the fire burning gently in the fireplace. Mrs. Malfoy's voice drifted over the room comfortingly .....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione sat by the main staircase banister, trying to decide whether or not it was worth looking around. The cons seemed to outweigh the pros dramatically and it was only her word to Harry and Ron that kept her even considering doing her job. She rubbed her stomach painfully. She shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid, she knew now. But it had only made her hate grow more.
Lucius walked to the front door and opened it, looking behind him at Hermione sitting by the banister.
"Let's try to behave while Master Lucius is gone, shall we?" Lucius said, smiling up at Hermione.
"Only someone who is really arrogant or really STUPID talks in the third person," Hermione replied, thanking God inwardly that she had space between herself and Lucius's cane.
Lucius's smile faded a little, but the smugness stayed on his face as he walked out the door. Hermione could hear him disapparting with a pop as the door swung closed. She let out a breath and stood up.
"Time to get to work," she said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...Mrs. Malfoy had fallen asleep and Draco was sitting beside her on the bed, flipping the book pages idly. Suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew across the room, sending the book flying from Draco's hands. It landed on the floor, its pages turning over in the wind. Draco heard a banging from outside the window and he got out of bed to walk across the room to the window. It was open, light white muslin curtains flapping. He pulled them back to gaze outside...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione stood at the beginning of the first hallway, counting the doors on either side. She couldn't help wondering that if there were only three people living in the house, why they would need twelve rooms on each side of the hallway. She was also worried that she would bump into Mrs. Malfoy, which would be disastrous.
Hermione gingerly turned the doorknob to the first door, half expecting it to explode under her hands or hex.
Locked.
She could of course unlock it by magic, but she didn't quite feel like getting in trouble with the Ministry right now. So she moved on, checking each door. Most were locked. Halfway down the right side of the hall, her hands found an unlocked door. She pushed it open, stepping back quickly in case she had to make a quick break for escape. The room was dark, but nothing monstrous or dangerous popped out at her, so she moved into the shadows of the room.
Her eyes fell upon an empty room, totally bereft of any furniture or wall hangings. Hermione scanned the room for anything that she could write off as being dark magic, but nothing interesting caught her eye. Cobwebs and dust..
But Hermione sensed something in the room, an invisibility charm or maybe a hex waiting to spring. It felt dark and suffocating almost. It brought back memories of the battle in the Department of Ministries, memories of dark magic. Hermione edged out of the room, making mental note to go back to that room. Something had happened in that room..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
..a gang of black robed figures were making their way across the moor. Draco strained his eyes, trying to make out a recognizable face, but the mist and darkness obscured any features that might have been recognizable. They were dragging something; someone, not a something. It was a young boy, in his early twenties. He was screaming at his captors and fighting against their grip, but Draco couldn't hear anything because of the howling wind. Suddenly, one of the robed figures turned around and a blast of fire shot out of his wand, hitting the man across the face...
Draco screamed out, but his words were immediately whipped away by the wind. The unconscious man was dragged inside as the black robed figures disappeared though the back door. They were in his house...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione was not having any luck. Every door she tried was locked except for the one earlier, and she had no intention of going into there again alone. She got a horrible feeling in there, like her heart was bring gripped with an iron clamp.
As she walked out of the hallway into the main hall Maurel followed her with her eyes.
"Having fun all by yourself? Not getting into trouble, I hope."
Good god, I don't need this right now. "Nothing for you to concern yourself about."
"This is my house! How a respectable family like the Malfoys took you in for their holidays I don't know! I would think you had some Mudblood gathering to get to."
Hermione walked up to the portrait and stood looking up at the pinched, soured face looking down at her with an utter loathing.
"You know what I'm confused about? How even in a portrait where imperfections can apparently be changed, you still look like your face smashed into the rear side of a barn."
Maurel turned a mottled shade of purple and drew herself up to her full height.
"If I still had my wand...."
"And were mobile.."
"SHUT UP! If I still had my wand, I'd hex your mousy little face right off!"
"Yeah well, too bad you can't. Bye now."
Hermione walked calmly up the stairs, followed by Maurel's shrieks and threats. A smile curved the ends of her mouth..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.....Draco crept down the stairs, hiding in the shadows, and followed the cushioned footsteps of the intruders down the hallway towards his father's study. Halfway down the hall, however, they turned into an open door, dragging the young man after them. Draco waited a few seconds and followed after them. He stopped at the doorway and looked around the corner into the room.
The room was empty of anything except the intruders. They had formed a circle around the unconscious man, who they were trying to wake up. The room smelled foul, like stale magic and blood. Draco sat frozen by the door, unnoticed by the robed figures. The man was stirring, muttering under his breath, blood dripping from his mouth onto the bare floor. One of the robed figures kicked him in the stomach and pointed his wand at him.
"Stand up."
The man only lay there on the ground, muttering under his breath. Draco suddenly realized with horror what the man was doing, who he was talking to. He was praying.
"STAND UP! IMPERIO!"
The man stood up, still muttering to himself. His eyes were vacant and his expression empty. Draco was reminded of a living corpse and suddenly wanted very much to run back to his room, to his mother, but he was frozen to the floor.
The men in the robes took out their wands, all except for one, who took out a long knife from his long robes. Two men took hold of the young man's arms as the man carrying the knife approached. The man pulled down his hood to better see the man.
Draco was beyond speech, but he could still see in the dismal light the silver hair and the cold merciless gaze of his father.
When his father reached the man, he smiled and motioned for one of the men holding the man's arms to uncover a wrist. The man stood there muttering, either crazy or uncaring of his fate. A skull with a snake crawling though its mouth, the Dark Mark, was clearly visible on the man's wrist, so it was clear even in Draco's shock that the young man was a worker of Voldemort's. Lucius held the knife up to the light and in one swift movement swung it down..
The man's hand, cut from the wrist, fell away as the man lost his footing and slumped to the floor. Lucius wiped the blood on the man's robe and motioned for them to let him fall on the floor. The man lay there, cradling the stump of his hand, sobbing in pain. Lucius only regarded him with the same cold stare he used with his son.
All men now took out their wands and pointed them at the pathetic figure curled up on the floor. Draco suddenly found that he could move and scrambled back to his feet, letting himself run up the stairs.
"CRUCIO!"
Draco heard the curse behind him and the young man's screams that followed him; followed him up the stairs, to his mother's room, to her bed...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.....to his bed, where he sat up with a strangled yell.
His fever was breaking.
A/N: My longest chapter yet, and I think my best. Thank you so much for all your cool reviews! Those are what keep me writing, so this is really all your doing!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning dawned gray for Hermione, who awoke the next morning in Draco's room, her head lying painfully on a stack of books on the floor. She had refused to leave Draco, who had been talking and moaning in his fevered sleep. He was still asleep, but at peace at the moment.
She crept out of his room after covering him with a light coverlet and crept down the halls, trying vainly to find her own bedroom.
"It's like a labyrinth." She thought as she walked down the dim hallway. "You'd think they'd have a directory or something." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dreams raged inside of Draco's head, sending him tumbling into an abyss of his innermost secrets and desires, and he couldn't wake up....and the fever raged on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione reached the staircase leading downstairs and gave up. She would have to wait until someone woke up and she could ask them. She walked downstairs over to a window and pulled back the heavy curtains. The light came in cold and gray, piercing the darkness that kept resolutely present. Frost glittered across the moor like a huge spider web, and she could already see the gardeners defrosting the bushes and clipping stray branches. With gray clothes and pale skin, they seemed as white as the scenery they were tending to.
"Close the curtains."
Hermione swung around, nearly tripping over the heavy curtains, and stumbled forward. The curtains swung back in place, throwing the hallway into its usual darkness. Before Hermione could get her bearing back, a hand gripped her arm and dragged her out of the kitchen door. She stood, blinking in the morning light until the hand gripping her arm swung her around and she met the cold face of Lucius.
Lucius was dressed in all gray, like the gardeners, and his shoulder length silver hair shone like the frost on the moor. The hand that didn't have hold of Hermione was holding a cane, silver tipped and black. Hermione tugged her arm out of his grasp and stood rubbing the sore spot. Lucius leaned back against the door, fingering the silver on his cane.
"I trust we've treated you well so far in your stay here at Malfoy Manor?" Lucius said unsmilingly. Hermione rubbed her arm, eyeing the cane. Lucius sneered, his lip curling up over his teeth.
"I've been fine."
"Good." Lucius straightened. "That's very good. In that case, I'd like to move on to the reason we're out here.."
"I was wondering.." Hermione muttered under her breath. Lucius threw up his cane, making Hermione step back. Lucius caught it near the end, twisting it up behind his shoulder, and stepped forward.
"I don't know why you're here. I don't want to hear your explanation, but if you think I'm stupid than you're painfully wrong." Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "The Ministry didn't question why someone like you would want to spend their holiday here, and my son is obviously too stupid to care. But I-"
He breathed in and straightened his coat. Hermione looked around her, trying to figure out a quick method of escape if he should come after her.
"Do you understand?"
Hermione looked back at Lucius, who was leaning against the door, blocking her only way of escape. An overwhelming hate grew inside her as she imagined the last two days.
"So, did you get home alright last night?" She said, matching Lucius's glare with one equally as cold.
"Meaing what?" Lucius asked menacingly.
"Nothing. I just didn't think you'd be in contact with Voldemort so soon. I would think that with the Ministry breathing down your neck and your busy schedule of beating your son you'd at least wait a few days until you went back to being a traitor."
It took a moment for Lucius to register the insult, but when it did he snarled and grabbed her wrists.
"Good god, let go-" Hermione started, but Lucius kneed her painfully in the stomach and pulled her back up by the wrists, where she hung coughing.
"If I find that you're here for any other reason than to enjoy your holidays, the Gryffindors will find themselves short one crony." He let go of her wrists and opened the kitchen door. Hermione, still weak and catching breath, supported herself on the porch railing.
"Let Potter do his own work next time. Don't let him get you killed for his lack of balls." Lucius walked into the kitchen, letting the door swing closed shut behind him. Hermione hung onto the railing, letting the cold wind blow her hair over her face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco was dreaming.....
Draco was sitting with his mother in her bedroom. She was reading to him, his head nestled warmly in her lap, the fire burning gently in the fireplace. Mrs. Malfoy's voice drifted over the room comfortingly .....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione sat by the main staircase banister, trying to decide whether or not it was worth looking around. The cons seemed to outweigh the pros dramatically and it was only her word to Harry and Ron that kept her even considering doing her job. She rubbed her stomach painfully. She shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid, she knew now. But it had only made her hate grow more.
Lucius walked to the front door and opened it, looking behind him at Hermione sitting by the banister.
"Let's try to behave while Master Lucius is gone, shall we?" Lucius said, smiling up at Hermione.
"Only someone who is really arrogant or really STUPID talks in the third person," Hermione replied, thanking God inwardly that she had space between herself and Lucius's cane.
Lucius's smile faded a little, but the smugness stayed on his face as he walked out the door. Hermione could hear him disapparting with a pop as the door swung closed. She let out a breath and stood up.
"Time to get to work," she said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...Mrs. Malfoy had fallen asleep and Draco was sitting beside her on the bed, flipping the book pages idly. Suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew across the room, sending the book flying from Draco's hands. It landed on the floor, its pages turning over in the wind. Draco heard a banging from outside the window and he got out of bed to walk across the room to the window. It was open, light white muslin curtains flapping. He pulled them back to gaze outside...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione stood at the beginning of the first hallway, counting the doors on either side. She couldn't help wondering that if there were only three people living in the house, why they would need twelve rooms on each side of the hallway. She was also worried that she would bump into Mrs. Malfoy, which would be disastrous.
Hermione gingerly turned the doorknob to the first door, half expecting it to explode under her hands or hex.
Locked.
She could of course unlock it by magic, but she didn't quite feel like getting in trouble with the Ministry right now. So she moved on, checking each door. Most were locked. Halfway down the right side of the hall, her hands found an unlocked door. She pushed it open, stepping back quickly in case she had to make a quick break for escape. The room was dark, but nothing monstrous or dangerous popped out at her, so she moved into the shadows of the room.
Her eyes fell upon an empty room, totally bereft of any furniture or wall hangings. Hermione scanned the room for anything that she could write off as being dark magic, but nothing interesting caught her eye. Cobwebs and dust..
But Hermione sensed something in the room, an invisibility charm or maybe a hex waiting to spring. It felt dark and suffocating almost. It brought back memories of the battle in the Department of Ministries, memories of dark magic. Hermione edged out of the room, making mental note to go back to that room. Something had happened in that room..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
..a gang of black robed figures were making their way across the moor. Draco strained his eyes, trying to make out a recognizable face, but the mist and darkness obscured any features that might have been recognizable. They were dragging something; someone, not a something. It was a young boy, in his early twenties. He was screaming at his captors and fighting against their grip, but Draco couldn't hear anything because of the howling wind. Suddenly, one of the robed figures turned around and a blast of fire shot out of his wand, hitting the man across the face...
Draco screamed out, but his words were immediately whipped away by the wind. The unconscious man was dragged inside as the black robed figures disappeared though the back door. They were in his house...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione was not having any luck. Every door she tried was locked except for the one earlier, and she had no intention of going into there again alone. She got a horrible feeling in there, like her heart was bring gripped with an iron clamp.
As she walked out of the hallway into the main hall Maurel followed her with her eyes.
"Having fun all by yourself? Not getting into trouble, I hope."
Good god, I don't need this right now. "Nothing for you to concern yourself about."
"This is my house! How a respectable family like the Malfoys took you in for their holidays I don't know! I would think you had some Mudblood gathering to get to."
Hermione walked up to the portrait and stood looking up at the pinched, soured face looking down at her with an utter loathing.
"You know what I'm confused about? How even in a portrait where imperfections can apparently be changed, you still look like your face smashed into the rear side of a barn."
Maurel turned a mottled shade of purple and drew herself up to her full height.
"If I still had my wand...."
"And were mobile.."
"SHUT UP! If I still had my wand, I'd hex your mousy little face right off!"
"Yeah well, too bad you can't. Bye now."
Hermione walked calmly up the stairs, followed by Maurel's shrieks and threats. A smile curved the ends of her mouth..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.....Draco crept down the stairs, hiding in the shadows, and followed the cushioned footsteps of the intruders down the hallway towards his father's study. Halfway down the hall, however, they turned into an open door, dragging the young man after them. Draco waited a few seconds and followed after them. He stopped at the doorway and looked around the corner into the room.
The room was empty of anything except the intruders. They had formed a circle around the unconscious man, who they were trying to wake up. The room smelled foul, like stale magic and blood. Draco sat frozen by the door, unnoticed by the robed figures. The man was stirring, muttering under his breath, blood dripping from his mouth onto the bare floor. One of the robed figures kicked him in the stomach and pointed his wand at him.
"Stand up."
The man only lay there on the ground, muttering under his breath. Draco suddenly realized with horror what the man was doing, who he was talking to. He was praying.
"STAND UP! IMPERIO!"
The man stood up, still muttering to himself. His eyes were vacant and his expression empty. Draco was reminded of a living corpse and suddenly wanted very much to run back to his room, to his mother, but he was frozen to the floor.
The men in the robes took out their wands, all except for one, who took out a long knife from his long robes. Two men took hold of the young man's arms as the man carrying the knife approached. The man pulled down his hood to better see the man.
Draco was beyond speech, but he could still see in the dismal light the silver hair and the cold merciless gaze of his father.
When his father reached the man, he smiled and motioned for one of the men holding the man's arms to uncover a wrist. The man stood there muttering, either crazy or uncaring of his fate. A skull with a snake crawling though its mouth, the Dark Mark, was clearly visible on the man's wrist, so it was clear even in Draco's shock that the young man was a worker of Voldemort's. Lucius held the knife up to the light and in one swift movement swung it down..
The man's hand, cut from the wrist, fell away as the man lost his footing and slumped to the floor. Lucius wiped the blood on the man's robe and motioned for them to let him fall on the floor. The man lay there, cradling the stump of his hand, sobbing in pain. Lucius only regarded him with the same cold stare he used with his son.
All men now took out their wands and pointed them at the pathetic figure curled up on the floor. Draco suddenly found that he could move and scrambled back to his feet, letting himself run up the stairs.
"CRUCIO!"
Draco heard the curse behind him and the young man's screams that followed him; followed him up the stairs, to his mother's room, to her bed...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.....to his bed, where he sat up with a strangled yell.
His fever was breaking.