A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my 100th reviewer: Poliahu2496!
And thanks for all the reviews lately; I hope I answered some of your questions in this chapter! You're just getting ahead of me with all this curiosity! But hey, who can complain about a captive and engaged audience?
The week went by quickly with all the party planning and preparations. Draco had to spend a large chunk of time at the office on Thursday, and Hermione went to the library to relax. She grabbed a hefty text on nonverbal and wandless magic. It looked a little dark, but it would take her mind of the past few days. After Draco had beaten Blaise up, Hermione had been very wary in his presence. She wasn't scared of him per say, but she was worried about the fact that he immediately jumped to beat a colleague bloody without even considering it might be her fault.
Still, Blaise was a smarmy git and she kind of enjoyed seeing him get pummeled by Draco. She just didn't like how angry Draco got so quickly. It was like everything was just on a different level with him. It skipped straight to the boiling point.
Hermione closed the book with a loud snap. She couldn't focus on her reading because she was too busy fretting over Draco Malfoy's emotions. She thought back and before this month, that idea would have been completely ridiculous to her. And yet here she was in his library, unable to read his stupid books because she was worried about his stupid feelings. Honestly, who had she become?
Hermione rolled her eyes at her own annoying internal monologue and sighed. There was no on there to keep her company. It was times like these that she wished she could just go. But she had promised Draco she'd stay until the party, and even if she found a way out, if he came home and she was gone, he would be livid.
But why did she really care what he thought? He had kept her hostage in his house, in a room that drove his grandmother made, no less! She still wanted to know what the allure of that room was, and why he had put her there. She was considering how to bring these subjects off without setting off the powder keg that was Draco, when a voice surprised her.
"So," Narcissa Malfoy's ghost said. "What do you think you're doing with my son?"
"Wha- I, nothing," Hermione said unconvincingly.
The ghost scoffed, "I've seen you in bed with him. It's odd because I thought you were his little play thing not the other way around."
"What?" Hermione asked, confused by the allegory.
"Don't think I don't see you digging your claws into my son! I know you think you have him wrapped around your finger, but don't forget why you're here at all. Don't forget what he's done to you. He may seem like a lovesick little puppy, but if I know my son, he'll lock you back up in that tower where you belong you filthy little harlot." Narcissa's anger was apparent, and Hermione began to realize the reason she had imprinted – to protect her son.
Hermione was too upset over the words to ask about their intentions, so she focused on what Narcissa was saying. "What are you trying to tell me about the tower? I know it hurt you, but that's because Lucius was so angry. I didn't even have a single nightmare up there. What's the problem?"
"It doesn't just give you nightmares, though that's a side effect. It was built into the Manor by the original architect as a counteragent to the curse. Back then there were no serums or silly little mudbloods to alleviate the constant internal fury that led to the transformations. So he built a chamber, removed from the body of the house that would absorb all the anger of the Master. Without a person to absorb the pure magical energy of the anger caused by the curse, the pain and anger redoubles upon the Master of the house."
"So he put me up there as an insurance policy?" Hermione asked.
"He put you up there because that's what he does with women. He lures them to his house, and those gold digging sluts lap it up. He gives them a nice tower bedroom and they feel like a princess and they don't worry about why he doesn't sleep in the bed with them or why they have such nightmares. The more weak-minded ones flee after the first night, but some stragglers hang on until they end up in St. Mungo's. Just know that this has been his pattern and you will be no different." Narcissa looked so angry she could spit, but a lady doesn't act on such rude impulses.
"No, that's not true," Hermione said. "He's different now. He cares about me and we do share a bed and he even moved me down to the guest bedroom."
"If he cares about you, why didn't he tell anyone your real name?" Narcissa snapped back.
"To… protect me?" Hermione said, her nervous voice turning it into a question.
"Ha!" Narcissa's face turned to one of cruel glee. "More like to protect his good name. He wouldn't be caught dead with a mudblood like you; even one with your fame isn't half the woman he deserves."
"From what I can tell, he locks them in a tower so they can absorb his pain; doesn't sound like he's been willing to get serious about any of the women you consider worthy, Narcissa!" Hermione had snapped just a little bit at Narcissa calling her a mudblood. She had always imagined that the blood prejudice in the family was mainly perpetrated by Lucius and was thereby passed down to his son, but Hermione had never thought of Narcissa as an evil or bigoted woman.
"Well at least he knew what they were good for. I don't know why he moved you out of there. He's pretty much just sealed his fate by not having you as a buffer," Narcissa said, turning her nose up distastefully.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked warily.
"Aren't you listened you dolt? No one in the room means no one to absorb his anger, meaning it doubles over on him, and what causes his transformations? That's right, anger," Narcissa said. "Honestly, your smarts are terribly overrated.
"But it's not like that. As long as we're together, he doesn't get mad. At least he didn't," Hermione said carefully considering the past few days. "I guess he has been getting a little worse."
"If you really care for him, you'll sit in that tower like a good little girl and let him take everything out on you," Narcissa said pointedly, and then flew away.
Hermione buried her head in her hands. First of all, the reason Draco's anger had been escalating was because she wasn't in the tower room anymore. Second of all, Draco was kind of a slut, which in all honesty she expected from a billionaire. Third of all, she had the choice to go back up there and suffer from nightmares and possibly mental illness, or she could stay in the guest room and hope that she could subdue him. She sincerely doubted she could actually subdue him. But then, Draco must not have known about the true nature of the room if he so easily let her stop sleeping there.
Then why did he have all his trysts stay there? A nasty little voice in her head responded. Well, even if he did know, he had asked her to stay away, so hadn't his intentions been valiant? Unless he just used it as a ploy to get in bed with you.
Hermione growled in frustration. Even without being in the psycho nightmare room she was clearly having a mental break. Arguing with yourself was not a good sign of mental health. A moment later the door to the library opened and an exhausted Draco walked in. She smiled slightly out of instinct, but then it fell as she remembered he had a lot of explaining to do.
Draco strode across the room and kissed her on the cheek sweetly. "Boy, am I happy to see you," he said softly, falling back on the chaise lounge. Hermione realized she was sitting in the black armchair, and the role reversal made her giggle.
He looked back at her and gave her a strange look. "Sorry, I just realized I'm in your seat," she replied with an easy smile.
Draco waved his hand in her direction and said, "Don't worry about it. I'm beat."
"Long day at the office, dear?" She said with a grin.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before saying, "You have no idea."
"Guess that's part of the playboy millionaire life," she said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
"What?" he replied, not knowing whether to be flattered or offended.
"Just had a nice chat with your mother," she said quietly.
"My- oh. The ghost," he replied shortly. He hadn't been very interested in his mother's ghost since their last fight. That imprint had seemed to gather all the worst parts about her. He didn't like it at all and it was NOT his mother.
"Yes. She told me about the ladies you've had over in the past," she trailed off, hoping he'd jump in.
"Hermione," he said turning to her, "I've put those ways behind me. Right now I'm only interested in you."
She pursed her lips, but had trouble holding the anger since he had been so sweet. "I don't want to have another fight, but I need to ask you something."
"Okay," he said cautiously.
"Why have you kept me here?"
Draco looked down at his perfectly manicured nails for a moment. He had so many ways he could answer her question, but he didn't know which one was the right answer. He didn't know her very well, but he understood her compulsion for honesty in all things. He also knew that she was a woman, so anything he said would probably offend her anyway. He tried to sort out how to make her understand.
"I'd like the truth, please," Hermione continued. "And you can start talking any time now."
"At first," Draco began carefully, as if plucking each word from his soul. "I thought you were a spy. So I was afraid of you. I sent you to the one place I knew you couldn't escape easily because the windows don't open. But then, I got to know you and I wanted you to be around. Then I found out who you were, and I knew you couldn't be here by coincidence. I wanted to turn you over to someone, anyone who would take you, but by that time I was falling in love with you." He stopped suddenly when he realized what he'd just said. He hadn't even admitted that to himself really.
Hermione blushed for a moment, and then composed herself. "I'm not one of those girls that will be swayed just because you say you love me. I just can't believe you didn't know what that room would do to me."
"I did," Draco admitted. "That's why I told you not to sleep there anymore."
"But why would you give up something that would help you not transform?" Now Hermione was just confused.
I did it because I didn't want the price to be your sanity. I did it so we could be together, like we're supposed to be," he pleaded, trying to make her understand.
"If you wanted to be with me, you would have told me the whole truth," Hermione said sadly. She didn't know why she couldn't just get over it. Everything he said was so sweet, but it was just in her nature not to trust him. She didn't know if they'd ever get past that. "Maybe you should have asked me before you went and assumed we were in a relationship. I don't even know what this is. Worse still, I don't know who you are." She left the room without looking at him. She knew if she had turned to look, she wouldn't be able to control herself and would burst into tears.