After Hermione's first success, she wanted to bulldoze through every spell she knew, but she managed to contain her eagerness long enough to find the satchels with her books still stashed away on a shelf in the back of the closet in her old room. She snuck them out at night after the Greengrass women were all in bed. She pulled out her first charms book and started from the beginning.
It was slow going, trying to think in a way that involved magic acting as a part of her rather than she acting on magic as an outside force. Things that she could physically do with her hands like lifting objects and locking doors were easy to master. Spells like aguamenti and lumos don't translate easily to body movements, though; water and light don't naturally ooze from her pores at will. Still she found ways to imagine the spells being enacted by her magic-balls of lights growing in her hands, the feeling of water running off her fingers.
Her new abilities and the daily challenges made Hermione's eyes brighten and her steps jaunty. She knew the Widow was beginning to feel apprehensive about her newfound happiness and irritated that she didn't know why Hermione was so tickled pink all the time, but she couldn't help herself. Between the Duchess's now weekly visits, Sirius daily package (sometimes including the loveliest pieces of chocolate), and her self-taught lessons, Hermione spirits were lifted. Even then, she couldn't brush away the niggling feeling in the back of her mind. Every silver lining has its dark cloud. Well the original is true, so why not the reverse? Hermione pushed on anyways, trying to ignore the thought and continued to push her magical limits.
The weather outside was beginning to get chilly and on one particular day, rainy and it made the day's visit seem even more ominous. Hermione was sweeping out the kitchen-well the broom was-when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She darted forward to grab the auto-sweeping broom, halting the house-keeping charm. She may have her magic back, but the Widow didn't need to know that. The Widow stuck her head around the door post, an ugly sneer distorting her face.
"You have a visitor in the parlor," she said and whipped back around, stalking off. Hermione raised her eyebrow at the empty space. The Duchess has already been here this week, Hermione thought. Who else would make an effort to visit me? Sirius maybe? The boys are at school so it could only be Sirius! She laid the broom down by the door as she left. She stopped at the entrance of the parlor, wiping her hands of on her dress. The possibility of the jokester brought a smile to her lips as she pushed the door open, but it didn't last long.
The wrong man stood in the parlor, with the wrong hair, wrong clothes wrong everything. Finest robes tailored to perfection, blonde hair neatly tied into a low ponytail, black enamel cane with silver embellishments. This was not Sirius, but Lucius Malfoy, from some beautifully decorated level of her personal hell to torment her with her failure to take on his deal. Why bother to just rub it in my face? Hermione wondered. Does he derive pleasure from kicking dogs when they're down as well as terrorizing people? I didn't take him for a sadist, evil as he is.
She let the door shut behind her, trying to signal her presence to him without actually saying anything. He kept his back to her, looking over the decorative pieces the Widow chose to put over the mantle with a critical eye. We can sit here in complete silence until pigs fly, she thought. I have absolutely nothing to say to him. The slimy git could jump off a bridge for all I care. A moment passed in silence, before the Duke sighed and turned to face Hermione.
"It's terrible manners not to greet the occupants in a room upon entering it," he said as he turned his critical eye on Hermione. "But I suppose when you've deteriorated as you have, you don't worry much about manners do you, Miss Granger?"
Yep, here to gloat. Hermione chose not to respond and to look over his shoulder instead of at his face. I most certainly have not deteriorated you great blonde Neanderthal! I know I look like crap, but I bet you couldn't even think about doing wandless magic.
"No witty repartee? No ire? Has the little gold-digging wench and her two brats broken you of your spirit as well as your looks?" She couldn't help the facial tick that gave away her anger at his words.
"Oh! Just practicing your poker face are you?" he snickered and sat himself on the sofa. "Cute. Endearing even, but most of all it makes my little visit more productive than I could have hoped. Sit, Miss Granger, we have business to discuss." When she didn't, he thumped his cane on the floor twice and all of a sudden, Hermione found herself seated in the chair across from him. Though her arms and legs were free, her bum was firmly glued to the seat cushions. Unsticking charms, unsticking charms, I've learned at least one haven't I?
"Stop girl, you'll just hurt yourself. I know you don't have your wand anymore, so you might as well sit and listen. If anything I will let you go at the end of my proposition, so the sooner you let me finish, the sooner you can escape my presence."
Hermione fixed her eyes on the blonde, biting her lip. It was strange; other than his very unorthodox method of making her sit down, the Duke almost sounded reasonable and polite. She still had a sense of being spoken down to, but it was as if she were simply a child rather than a worm and that was a step up in the realm of Malfoy. She begrudgingly gave up her physical struggle with her binds. "Get on with it then. What do you want?" Need to get unstuck. What could he possibly have to say?
"Very rude. We'll have to re-train you if this all pans out. Have you read this morning's Prophet?" he asked, reaching into the folds of his robes. "Very interesting bit on the front page."
He handed the newspaper to her. Line up in Order of Fertilization, the headlines read. "Headline's a bit crass for a publication, but it gets the point across. Don't bother reading, I'll just tell you the gist of it. The order of the princes' succession depends on fertility of the prince and his bride. The first to carry a child to term is the victor."
"The victor?" Hermione questioned. "This is a game to you."
"Life is a game of wizarding chess, and a Malfoy is always the last king standing."
A chess game? Where did that mentality come from? "What chess piece do you intend for me to play?"
"There's hope for you yet. You re a multitude of things Miss Granger; intelligent, reasonably pretty, powerful and for some reason, people tend to like you upon meeting you, provided you don't give them a reason to stop doing so. Above all you're a mudblood."
"Above all? Aren't you all about blood purity, the sanctity of magic, and keeping it all in the family? How has my blood made it from the worst of my faults to the best of my assets?" Everything you say and do makes me uncomfortable. I want to be able to run away.
"Malfoys have an uncanny ability to adapt to whatever gives them a leg up, my dear." He crossed one leg over the other and re-settled himself in the sofa. "Where's your house elf? I want a drink."
"We don't have one. Never did. And she figured I am cheaper labor than the maids."
"Pity. Over the centuries, blood purity has held sway, but politics change and so do we. Blood purity has made many families wary of marrying outside the magical community and as I'm sure you know, breeding between family members incurs mutations. Since much of the wizarding world is related, every generation of children are pocked with more and more of our special mutation, the squib. My son needs to father a child with magic in its veins. Can you see where you fit?"
"I'm outside the gene pool, a means to an end." End? Infinite Incatatem! Hermione nearly jumped when the idea came to her. If I imagine breaking chains will it work? Or does the action have to be all encompassing like the spell? Here goes nothing. She rejoiced when she felt her inanimate captors release her.
"No, Miss Granger, a means to an end would make you a pawn and you're more useful to me than that. Queen is a more fitting station for you than pawn."
Hermione almost missed his reply. "What else do you plan to use me for?! Why would-"
"And here I make my offer, the same as before, maybe even sweeter."
"My answer is the same as before Malfoy. I won't be held under your thumb in exchange for my freedom!" she huffed. "I have the means of getting away on my own and I don't need you!" My freedom is at hand; the Duchess said the adoption papers were moving- slowly but moving
And with that, the affable, almost polite manner he'd been holding onto disappeared, and back was the menace to society. He stood sharply, smoothing out his robes, face twisting into his signature nasty smirk. "Duke Malfoy, girl! I realize that brute force only makes you more resistant, so I tried logic instead and hoped that your experiences with the poisonous bitch who killed your father would temper your pride and make you see reason but even the death of your father seems to be of little consequence to you."
At the mention of her father, Hermione jumped to her feet. "What do you know of my father's death? What poison-"
His smirk deepened and his eyes took on a predatory glint. Hermione froze as she realized her many missteps. "I must say I'm quite glad I decided to use your loyalty to your father as a last resort. If not, I wouldn't have witnessed this little surprise. Wandless magic, child? I've never seen anyone perform it, and yet here you are wielding it willy-nilly. You're far more powerful than I even imagined."
"What happened to my father?" Hermione asked him again, voice sounding desperate. "What did she give him? How do I-"
The Duke looked quite pleased with himself, as if his opponent was playing their pieces just as he expected; the game was moving in his direction. "You will accept my son whether you want to or not. Your choice is between knowing what she did and searching futilely. I think the choice is rather obvious, but I don't ever want to hear you say your father-in-law is not generous. You have one week to give me your answer.
That was more than a bit short I know. Sorry! But on a good note I'm going to post as much as I can in this next week before school starts next Monday. After that, nobody hold their breath because it might be a while before you see me again. In the mean time review! It makes me happy.