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Chapter 12-
Hermione awoke in what looked to be a drawing room. She hadn't even attempted to find a room with a bed. The thought of lying on pillows that Lucius are Narcissa may have used gave her the creeps.
Suddenly Draco appeared in the doorway, his blonde hair slicked back to perfection, his black suit now replaced with a crisp white dress shirt, slightly unbuttoned on the top and a pair of black dress pants. He never seemed to wear casual clothing but Hermione supposed that unbuttoning a dress shirt was casual for the slytherin.
"What do you want?" Hermione said viciously as she pushed her disheveled hair out of her face.
"I assumed that you haven't eaten. Are you hungry?" Draco asked as he took a step into the room.
"Don't you dare take a step near me!" Hermione spat, her face a cold sneer full of hatred. Draco retracted and cast his gray eyes to the ground.
"You would probably be more comfortable in the guest suite…" Draco muttered as he placed a pale hand on the doorframe as if he was trying to steady myself.
"Why should I? I'm not a guest. I'm a prisoner. I suppose I should just go down into the cellar. Isn't that where your evil pureblood family prefer I to be?" Hermione shot up from the black leather settee, her hands balled into fists at her sides as she bit down on her lip. Draco didn't reply, he just looked down toward the floor. Hermione waited for something to come from the blonde but the air only filled with the cacophonous sound of silence.
"Aren't you going to say anything?!" Hermione yelled. She couldn't stand it when Draco was quiet. That was worse than when he was spouting hateful slurs at her.
"I have nothing to say." He mumbled and turned on his heel, shutting the drawing room door behind himself. No sooner did he leave did Hermione pick up an expensive looking vase and throw it against the door, pointed shards splintering off as it combusted on impact.
Draco winced as he heard Hermione throwing items in his mother's drawing room.
CRASH! There went his mother's incredibly expensive heirloom vase. SMASH!There was Lucius' decanter set. BANG! And of course who could forget the antique matching candelabra. Draco walked away quickly before he could hear any more of his parents' precious belongings be destroyed by the feisty muggleborn. He couldn't blame her though. He would probably do the same thing if not worse if he were in her position. He could only hope that she would tire herself out.
By the end of the afternoon, silence now inhabiting the occupied drawing room, Draco decided to bring a tray of food for the young witch.
KNOCK! Draco left the tray and quickly walked away in case Hermione had some sort of weapon to swing at his head. He watched from behind a column as the young woman emerged from the trashed room. She looked around cautiously for any signs of Draco and then proceeded to pull the tray back into the room, the door shutting quietly behind her. Draco grinned to himself, she must have thought the food had come from the house elves. He would have to tell them so that she didn't think any different.
That night Draco decided to go to bed early. He felt horrible for betraying Hermione and holding her captor in his home. She had been kind to him when she had decided to allow him to leave without continued pursuit. Of course he had to be devious and take her against her will because of his pride. There was something slightly thrilling about it though. Kissing her...that was something indescribable. He had only done it to get back at Weasley but something had stirred inside him the moment his lips grazed her warm flesh. It was like he was marking her as his. What was wrong with him? He didn't see her that way, did he? He couldn't deny that she was beautiful in a wild, untamed sort of way. She was the only woman he knew that could verbally spar with him not to mention she was so incredibly intelligent it was scary. Why wouldn't he be attracted to her? Oh yea, she was his enemy. Her blood was dirty or at least according to his father it was.
Draco lay in the bed, his eyes still open. Images of Hermione and her moonlit swim floated amidst his thoughts. That seemed to be the only way he could fall asleep these last few days.
Hermione had to think of a way to get out of there. It wasn't just for her but if she couldn't leave than Draco's life would be in jeopardy also. Everyone would be hunting him down now that he had her hostage. Although Hermione was irate and angry for his betrayal a part of her wanted him to be safe. She didn't want him to be hurt or worse for something like a last ditch effort to free his family. She possibly would have done the same for her own parents. There really wasn't that many differences in their life situations. Both their families were lost based on circumstance. Both of them just wanted them back no matter the cost. Hermione settled on the black leather settee, glass shards and broken candlesticks littering the ground around her. She pulled her arms close around her body as she struggled to get warm.
Draco couldn't sleep. The thought of her in the ramshackled drawing room made him only want to go in and see if she was alright. Perhaps she was cold. He conjured a blanket for her and crept out of his room clad only in a pair of body hugging dark green boxer briefs. When he made it to the drawing room door he didn't hear any sounds. Figuring it was safe he found the door surprisingly unlocked. There in the the shallow light of one candle Hermione lay, her golden brown waves pooling around her head like a lions mane. Draco took a step only to find that his bare foot was crunching on broken glass. He kept in the curse that was about to fly from his lips and proceeded to be more careful as he dodged more shards.
The candlelight played on the young gryffindor woman's features as she lay with her knees bent, her arms wrapped around herself. Draco stood there motionless. He was terrified to wake her, her slumber too beautiful to disturb. There it was right in front of him. She was everything he could ever want but he couldn't have her. He closed his eyes defeatedly and gently placed the conjured blanket over her sleeping form. Hermione slightly stirred and then surprisingly her hand rested on his. Draco caught his breath in his throat, her hand feeling small and petite atop his. Maybe she thought it was Weasley. Then suddenly her amber eyes flew open to catch Draco looming over her.
"D...Draco?!" Hermione said shocked but still didn't remove her hand from his. Now Draco felt incredibly stupid for standing there in only his underwear.
"I'm...I…" The young slytherin stammered, his gray eyes wide with shock. Hermione studied his face but continued touching his pale hand.
"I...I brought you a blanket." Draco quickly pulled his hand from her light grip and practically ran out of the room, cursing the whole time as he stepped on a forgotten shard of glass. Hermione's eyes trailed after his pale muscular form. She bit her lip and sucked in a breath. His stunning physique was definitely burned into her brain now. She snuggled the blanket close to her face and settled back to sleep.
The next morning Hermione was awoken by the sound of sweeping. She cracked one amber eye open to find Daisy in a corner discarding the aftermath of Hermione's meltdown into a waste bin.
"Good morning." Hermione said quietly but still startled the young female elf.
"Oh...um...Miss." Daisy stammered as she dropped her broom on the floor with a thud.
"I'm sorry I startled you Daisy." Hermione apologized as she brushed her hair from her face.
"Sorry?" Daisy questioned, her bulbous eyes looked confused.
"Oh...uh I guess you aren't used to apologies." Hermione chewed her lip.
"May I help you? I was the one that made the mess after all." Hermione added as she got up from the settee and picked up the forgotten broom. Daisy just looked at her wide eyed.
"Miss sweeps?" Daisy asked as she watched the young witch sweep up a few broken candle sticks.
"Oh yes. I clean all the time when I'm home. Mum won't let me use magic, she feels it's the lazy way." Hermione smiled and began to sweep a few shards of glass into a pile.
"Miss doesn't have house elves for cleaning?" Daisy seemed flabbergasted by the idea.
"I'm muggleborn so we don't have house elves." With the mention of her blood status Daisy looked away from Hermione and quickly grabbed the waste basket to leave the room.
"Daisy! Please...please don't leave." Hermione begged as she placed the broom against a wall. Daisy stood still but didn't turn around right away.
"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione wanted the house elf to at least look at her. Daisy slowly turned around, her eyes downcast to the floor.
"Of course Miss." Daisy responded.
"Did...Did you know Dobby?" The dead house elf's name stung on Hermione's tongue as it come out. She could already feel her eyes well thinking about him.
"No Miss. I was brought here after Dobby defied orders. I replaced him. Kritter says he was insolent to Master. He also said that he helped the Harry Potter boy and because of that deserved what Miss Bellatrix did to him." Daisy answered.
"What...what did she do to him Miss? Kritter never told Daisy." Daisy asked, her large eyes so innocent and unknowing.
"She murdered him Daisy. She killed him in cold blood because he saved us." Hermione choked out. The look on Daisy's tiny face was of shock and despair.
"He was an amazing friend." Hermione added and handed Daisy back the broom.
"Friend?" Daisy shocked face turned to bewilderment.
"Yes Daisy, he was our friend." Hermione smiled and walked over toward the dustpan that had been left on the floor in the corner. She bent down and picked it up as Daisy came over and began to sweep a pile of debris into it.