Chapter 2

It felt alien walking into one of Voldemort's grand halls again, all dressed in fine silks, jewels draped around her neck and wrists. Armor, it was, as wore everyone else. It felt as if she'd escaped, but had woken up from a dream to find herself in the same horrible place.

The room sparkled with candles, great swathes of red velvet framing all the windows and the darkness outside. There was to be a dance that night in honor of some milestone she didn't entirely understand. So many different things of Voldemort's conquest of the land were celebrated—the fall of towns, the slaying of rebel leaders, not to mention the ultimate victory.

Supposedly most of the families here were a part of that victory, fighting alongside Voldemort, although he took all of the credit. In a sense, he was responsible, but there would likely not have ever been an invasion if Voldemort hadn't decided he wanted to conquer all of the land and make himself supreme ruler. Only someone insane would ever have conceived of the notion, but he had the charisma, or leverage, to make people comply with his grand visions. Plus he could burn anyone to the ground with a lazy stroke of his wand. It was unfair someone so nasty had so much power, but then he'd dedicated himself to garnering power, hadn't he?

It was a funny thing, power—something Hermione was herself leveraging these days. It was effective, but it always had a bitter aftertaste. Speaking of taste, the worst of her morning sickness had passed and she could eat again. Noxious smells still troubled her, as did some of the perfumes in the room that evening.

Eyes turned to her as she stepped into the room. The same old players as before. She bowed her head to Wildersmith, the prominent and most powerful member of her alliance, who bowed back.

Astoria's face looked drawn as if a bad smell had appeared under her nose. The woman was not happy and Hermione knew full well she was the reason. But there was nothing Astoria could do as she couldn't afford for the news to get out with regards to whose baby Hermione was carrying.

Likely, there had been endless gossip about it, every possible contender examined and evaluated. It wasn't a secret Hermione saw any benefit in revealing. It would only give credence to Malfoy's claim on the baby, and that was not something she was going to let happen. They would just have to gossip away. She was never going to confirm anything.

Short of murdering his wife, there was little Malfoy could do. Even if he did, she would never consent to marry him, particularly if he was prone to murdering his wife to get what he wants. No, as he had accused, she had him caught in her web, and it was a situation that lessened the pressure she felt.

Still, she absolutely did not want to be here, dwell in this insane court. She might have the power at the moment, but it wasn't a position that particularly gave her any delight. This was a world of necessities. And Voldemort's swings made this a dangerous place for everyone.

She approached Lord Ackerley, who was, in the scheme of things, a harmless acquaintance as far as Hermione had ever seen, and someone she had known before coming here.

"Lady Nott," he said. "It pleases us to have you back."

"It is a pleasure to be back and to see everyone so finely dressed." It wasn't, but she had nothing else pleasant to say about being in this company again.

"Quite a bit has happened since you went away."

"I am sure it has," she said, feeling tension in her shoulders. She knew nothing stood still here, but equally knew it might be good news as well as bad for her situation and standing. "I have, of course, been completely unaware of any goings on in the court."

"That is careless of you," Ackerley chided.

"No doubt you are right, but there is so much that needs doing around an estate, so many things that need seeing to."

"You are not wrong there," Ackerley said, almost a bit admonished, which made her wonder what the Ackerley estate was like. Many of these people had to depend on their wives to run their estates for them, while others managed them from afar.

Hermione looked around the room, trying to pick up any tensions or moods. Her eyes settled on Malfoy, who stood on the other side of the room. He looked the same, darkly dressed and somber. He noted her attention and unguardedly stared back for a moment before raising his glass in a small salute.

There was always a special kind of tension when their gazes locked and Hermione looked away. Her main adversary. He wasn't done with her, was still searching for some way to sink her, although his interested had now shifted to the child in her belly—his potential heir. How different this all would be if she could trust him, but she knew she never could.

"So, what have been some of the big events?" she asked Ackerley.

"Well, there was quite an incident, a move if you will, where young Alfred Tilley made a grab for part of the Rosenbaum estate."

Hermione's eyebrows rose. The young man that she'd pressed into helping her exact revenge of Malfoy and his wife was taking the reins and pushing further for his own betterment.

"He succeeded, too. Made him the talk of court for a while. The Rosenbaums have gotten much of their wealth by squeezing the less illustrious member of the court, so no one is exactly feeling sorry for them when they lose out to their own strategy. But the boy has made an enemy and he is perhaps a bit liberal in doing so as Malfoy is still gravely displeased with him. If you ask me, Malfoy is waiting for him moment, preparing to strike."

Unfortunately, Hermione knew Ackerley was correct, even as she was the one responsible for the move on the Malfoy land that Tilley had initiated. Malfoy was still going to exact revenge on Tilley for having done it—pressed or not. But the Tilleys were now a part of their alliance, so Malfoy would be taking them all on, which he would eventually, when he'd found a means.

Hermione hated being back here, longed to be home on the estate with Tabian. There was also a drawback about the position she was in, in that she was now simply waiting for people to make their moves against her. And not just Malfoy or Astoria; the rest of the court had to be watched as well. There were pockets of power and some of them might cooperate and coordinate an attack.

There were also a few new faces and Hermione particularly noticed a woman standing close to the stage where Voldemort sat on his throne. She could only see the woman from behind, but she had her hands clasped around her back and Voldemort's attention was on her. The woman's dress wasn't the finest in the room, was actually quite modest.

"Who is that?" Hermione asked, discreetly indicating.

"Oh, now that is interesting. That is Madame Gwenoch. Arrived in court shortly after you left, a widow like yourself. Negligible estate, but Voldemort has seen fit to allow her entrance to court, and she seems to court his attention at every opportunity. I don't think she has had any success with her pursuits, but I would hazard a guess that the woman has lofty ambitions."

A sinking feeling infected Hermione's stomach. As far as she knew, people Voldemort were interested in sometimes ended up dead. In the time she'd been here, she hadn't seen anyone purposefully court his favor, but then he'd had lovers in the past. He wasn't a man to share power thought, so if this woman sought to make herself queen, she would probably find herself in a less than tenable situation.

Ackerley continued in a bored tone. "She will be powerful indeed if she succeeds, but many have gone down that path before her and few of them manage to stay around for very long."

"Has anyone warned her?"

"Warning the ambitious is rarely more than a waste of breath," he said dismissively. Hermione turned to him. Did he not recall the whole family that had died before their eyes because Voldemort had suddenly taken an interest in their daughter? Or did he not care? Hermione supposed in an environment like this, it often served to see to one's own survival. If others presented themselves as cannon fodder, that was their foolishness.

On the other hand, Astoria Malfoy still garnered Voldemort's favor based on his affection for her late mother. There were gains to be made by being his favorite, even if the repulsive thought utterly turned her stomach. What some would do for power knew no bounds.

Ackerley went on to talk about some other overtures, while Hermione kept her eyes on this woman. It never boded well for those that drew attention to themselves. She hoped this woman knew what she was doing, but she also knew that there was true and real desperation in the land and this woman might be pursuing the only course available to her. For now, Hermione herself was not in the same boat.