Chapter Six

Waking up in an unfamiliar place was never a comforting feeling. When Hermione first came back into consciousness, she wasn't sure where she was. The bed was warm and comfortable, but she knew it wasn't hers. For months she'd been sleeping in a smelly, cold tent with two other people. There was no possible way she would forget what that was like.

All of the details of her terrible night came rushing back. Unfortunately, it hadn't been just a terrible nightmare. She bit back a frustrated groan. Why did she have to have such awful luck? How unfair was it that because of one foolish mistake her life was over? She was so angry she could hardly think straight. Most of her anger was still directed at herself but she couldn't forget how much fucking Lord Voldemort was responsible. Without him and his selfish desire for absolute power and immortality, everyone would be able to live relatively normal, peaceful lives. What right did that arsehole have to ruin it for everyone else?

She kept her eyes closed, unwilling to see the truth of her captivity for just a little while longer. If she allowed herself to give in to the hopelessness of her current situation, she worried she would give up again. No matter what it took, she had to keep fighting. What was she going to do next? She promised herself the night before that after a good night's sleep she would start formulating a successful plan for survival that would make Kingsley proud.

All she could think of was Harry and Ron. Were they okay? She feared they would do something foolish and reckless like remain exactly where they'd been looking for her. It meant the world to her that they cared enough to want to find her, but she couldn't let them jeopardize their mission. Voldemort had to be defeated. That was all that mattered. She desperately hoped they would keep hunting the horcruxes without her.

After several minutes awake, Hermione could no longer ignore the unsettling feeling that she was being watched. She turned over onto her side and dared to open her eyes. Seated in a chair across the room, Dolohov didn't even try to hide the fact he was staring. It was unnerving to look at the crazed Death Eater in his eyes again. She hoped she would never get used to it. A quick sweep over the room with her eyes proved he was alone. Worry churned in her empty stomach. Would he hurt her without any witnesses?

"Where's Thorfinn and Draco?"

Mention of his two cohorts put the wizard in a foul mood. Or maybe he was perpetually annoyed.

"The boy had to return home lest his mummy and daddy get worried. I don't know where Rowle is nor do I care. Unfortunately, I was the unlucky one to get stuck here babysitting."

"You could always leave. Let me go."

His derisive snort put her even more ill at ease. She didn't like being alone with Dolohov. He made her nervous and she knew she would never be able to trust him. Multiple times he made it clear that he wanted to kill her. More than that, he wanted her to suffer first.

"You wouldn't get far. Do you know where you are?"

She nodded. There was no reason she could see to lie.

"Inside the Shrieking Shack. I've been inside here before."

"Why doesn't that surprise me? Have you always been in the habit of going into dangerous places you should be avoiding?"

She chose to ignore his question. It was easier than listening to the lecture she just knew would follow.

"I know the secret passageway onto the Hogwarts grounds. It's underneath the Whomping Willow."

Dolohov shrugged his shoulders.

"Must've been planted after I left Hogwarts. I've never seen it."

Calmly having a conversation with Antonin Dolohov while she lay in bed was easily becoming one of the more bizarre and unreal experiences of her already interesting and unusual life. He wasn't the sort she would've assumed could remain calm long enough. Of course she didn't know all that much about him. All she knew was Azkaban hadn't been kind to him and he was the sort to hold grudges for a very long time. Even though she knew she was awake it was easy to convince herself for a few moments here and there that she was trapped in an odd nightmare she would soon wake up from.

"Knowing how to get onto the Hogwarts grounds wouldn't help you. The Headmaster and the two deputies are on my side. No one gets through the Hogwarts gates without permission from one of them. And even if you could escape this room, which you can't, you'd be caught in the village before you got very far. There are Anti-Disapparition wards all over and it's full of people who would be glad to turn an Undesirable in for the reward money."

"You seem awfully confident about my inability to escape from this room."

"I should be. I'm the one that put the enchantments on the door and I assure you, even if you had a wand you couldn't break them."

She was disappointed to hear him brag about how secure the room was. It had been her hope that she might be able to exploit a weakness in her prison walls. Somehow she didn't get the impression that Dolohov was boasting without just cause or telling her a lie overselling his abilities. She got the feeling from him that even though he might be a violent murderer with a tenuous grasp on his sanity, he wasn't a liar. Some people, even those deemed evil in some way, could be prickly about lying. Could she use that trait of his against him?

"So what's the plan? What are you going to do to me now?"

He was easily annoyed. Whether that was a side-effect of over a decade locked up alone in an Azkaban cell or simply an effect she had on him personally, Hermione didn't know. Maybe he'd always been something of a loner who didn't interact well with others. She knew very little about his past nor did she think she wanted to change that fact.

It was tempting to keep pushing him to see how far he would go before he snapped. Either he would kill her in a fit of fury and her ordeal would be over or Thorfinn would kill him on her behalf. No matter what the immediate future held, she knew she had to separate them. If the three wizards were all united, it would be nearly impossible to defeat them. Alone, on the other hand, would be easier. Somehow she needed to figure out some way to pit them all against each other.

Thorfinn would likely be the easiest to lure over to her side. He was halfway there already. If it wasn't for him, she would likely be dead. Even if Dolohov hadn't said so explicitly the night before and he didn't even try to deny it, she knew the burly blond desired her. Was that enough? Could she use his feelings against him?

While that seemed theoretically possible, she didn't know the desires of her other two captors. Draco had always been a mystery to her despite their six years of shared lessons and frequent interactions. Years earlier she might have assumed his greatest desire was to rid the world of Mudbloods and therefore could never hope to lure him over to her side, but he'd changed. She wasn't sure when it started. Maybe it was the hellish year he experienced when he was tasked with killing Albus Dumbledore or it could've begun before then. If he wanted her dead, why would he have sought her out the summer before to warn her about what was coming? He wasn't the same obnoxious boy he used to be. She would have to get to know the person he'd become to have any hope of learning how she could manipulate his desires to her advantage.

What was she going to do about Dolohov? Could his desire be as simple as Thorfinn's? She highly doubted it, but he was just a man after all and he had spent nearly her entire lifetime locked up in prison. The very moment she thought about trying to seduce the frightening wizard, she almost laughed out loud. She was hardly some femme fatale capable of turning grown men into her slaves with pouty lips and a single smoldering glance. Besides, he'd even mentioned the night before that he didn't find her all that attractive anyway.

But she had few options. Love triangles could get very messy. If she was successful in stirring up any affection or just raw attraction in Dolohov, she could put the two men against each other. She tried to push away the ever-present reminder in the back of her mind that she was unsure how she would go about trying to seduce either of them. Even just thinking that word made her cringe. Dolohov hadn't been wrong when he made the hurtful comments about her looks. She was far from being the most beautiful, desirable woman alive. The fact that she didn't have much sexual experience also made her nervous. Did some men find that charming? She didn't know. Was there some way she could find out?

Unable to stay in bed another second, Hermione threw the blankets off. Every move she made was watched with an uncomfortable degree of scrutiny. Dolohov wasn't going to let her go anywhere or do anything without paying close attention. She didn't like the way he was staring but she tried hard not to show any fear. He was the sort of monster to feed off that.

It was annoying that he had yet to answer her question about his plans though it wasn't surprising. Villains might be quick to divulge the minute details of their dastardly plans in the movies, but reality was much different. She got the impression he would tell her nothing no matter how many times she asked. It was discouraging.

She crossed the bedroom to the door leading to the bathroom. His eyes followed. Until Hermione pushed the door open she was nervous what she might find inside. It wasn't anything special, but at least it was clean. Draco had been thorough when he built his hiding place. If it had hot water, she would be even more impressed. She stepped further inside to turn on the tap on the bathtub. It only took a moment before she felt the heat. How long had it been since she had a hot shower? Far too long. Their tent had only the basic amenities and magic could only go so far. She wasted no time turning the shower on.

When she spun back around to shut the door, she nearly gasped. Dolohov stood in the doorway watching. Even though he scared her, Hermione tried to pretend like she found his interest funny.

"I was going to take a shower. Are you planning on watching?"

He didn't respond, just kept staring. It was difficult to keep smiling. Only remembering desperate times called for desperate measures allowed her to utter her next question.

"Or were you hoping for an invitation to join me?"

Dolohov's laughter was more unnerving than his silent staring. Suddenly very uncomfortable, she wished she hadn't said anything even half-joking.

"The overgrown child might find you irresistible, but I don't. I like my women to be women, not half-starved little girls trying to pretend they're all grown up."

She wasn't sure if she should be insulted by his remark or relieved he wasn't interested. In the end she supposed whatever option kept her from being touched was best. He set her beaded bag down on the side of the sink. Unaware that her bag wasn't still in her pocket, she was angry with herself for her inattention. She needed to be more aware. It could be a literal matter of life and death.

"I removed anything that could be used as a weapon. Don't take too long."

The moment Dolohov pulled the door shut behind him Hermione released a heavy exhale. Being around the horrid man for any length of time was going to take some getting used to. She was glad to have a few minutes without his constant staring. Maybe she would finally be able to breathe again.

Standing underneath the hot spray of water was a pleasant change. Bathing in the tent usually meant wiping down with a wet cloth coupled with cleansing spells. No matter how long she was able to survive in the magical world, she refused to believe spells could replace the good clean of a hot shower. It felt like bliss on her tired muscles. At least she was able to find one positive aspect of her imprisonment. Wouldn't Harry and Ron be jealous to know she was in a real shower?

It hurt to think about them. Her stomach twisted into knots imagining how frightened and upset they must be since she disappeared. Or so she hoped. Wouldn't it be terrible to discover neither of them cared all that much what happened to her? Their friendship hadn't always been easy. They didn't even like her at first. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever be able to look back at the memory of the time in third year when neither of them wanted to speak to her without feeling sick. They'd almost stopped being her friend over a damned broomstick.

Was it possible they felt a sense of relief that she didn't return to the tent? Perhaps they thought she'd run off like Ron. Maybe they weren't even looking for her at all. She had been very angry when she stormed out of the tent and because she never went anywhere without her beaded bag, she was always ready to run. After months of heightened tension and unpleasant attitudes, they might have even been happy she never returned. Though it hurt even more to think she might be unwanted, she had to face the reality that it was entirely possible. She wasn't the easiest person to get alone with or be around.

It would do her no good to let her morale fall even lower than it already was. For the immediate future, she had to try to ignore the worst of her insecurities. Anything that wouldn't help her escape was a potential liability. She didn't have time for failure.

Physically shaking her head as if that would somehow banish her depressing worries, Hermione tried to think about how she was going to get out of the Shrieking Shack. Quickly her thoughts turned back to her oldest captor. He said she couldn't escape from her prison on her own, but there must be some way to convince all of her captors to let her go. Or even just one. Seduction would't work on Dolohov. She couldn't deny that she was glad. He scared her and she doubted that would change, especially if they were naked. There had to be some other way to get to him. What was his greatest desire? Moody said a person's desire could control them.

Worried Dolohov might come inside the bathroom to physically pull her out of the shower if she lingered much longer, she rushed through rinsing the last of the lather off her body. She hated stepping out on to the cold floor. Winter was brutal that far north and the Shrieking Shack wasn't exactly known for its luxurious amenities. Quickly she dressed in some of her warmer clothes. She would've been lost without her beaded bag. Maybe she should actually thank Thorfinn for giving it to her.

Dolohov was back in the chair when she returned to the bedroom. Glancing up from the book he was reading, his eyes followed her all the way to the fireplace where she stood in hopes of warming up. He watched her like she was some sort of puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. It made her uncomfortable, but that was becoming her usual state of being. She could take small comfort in the fact that he didn't see like much of a talker.

"You have very interesting reading material."

He gestured to the book he held when she looked at him. From the look of the tattered leather cover she knew it was one of the volumes she'd stolen out of the Headmaster's office the day of his funeral. There was a good reason he removed those books from the Hogwarts library. When she'd been looking for any information she could find about horcruxes, she forced herself to go through each grotesque book. She never know how much evil and depravity existed in their world until she read what some were willing to do with magic.

"I'm glad you were able to find something to amuse you amongst my privatebelongings."

He smirked and flipped to the front of the book.

"This mark here would seem to indicate this isn't your personal property at all. How many more of those books you carry around were stolen from the Hogwarts Restricted Section?"

"I didn't steal any from the Restricted Section. All of the books were removed from the library and kept in the Headmaster's office. I borrowed them. When I'm done with them, I'll be glad to return them to the school."

Technically, she wasn't lying at all. If she ever had a chance to return the dark and dangerous books to Hogwarts after the war ended, she would be glad to be rid of them. The other alternative was tossing the lot of them into a roaring fireplace. For reasons that should've been obvious to anyone who knew her, she was reluctant to follow through with that course of action. Evil or not, it was still a book.

"What could you possibly need to learn from these books on Dark magic?"

"I would think the reason was obvious."

"Apparently not."

"I thought maybe we could fight Dark magic with Dark magic. I hoped I would find something we could use to kill your Dark Lord once and for all."

That, too, wasn't a lie. When she felt lost during the horcrux hunt and unsure what to do next, she would flip through the dark books looking for anything that might help. Some people had their security blankets and Hermione had books. When she was scared or lacked confidence, a sadly common occurrence, she tried to find the answers she needed in books. Sometimes she was successful, but not always.

"And did you?"

His question was asked so calmly that anyone else might have assumed he was bored or didn't really care about the answer. There was something he tried to hold back from his final expression that Hermione didn't miss. Was that it? Had she stumbled upon his greatest desire?

"Do you want your Dark Lord dead?"

Dolohov's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. Was she brave enough to keep pushing even though her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest?

"Was that what Thorfinn overheard you discussing with Selwyn that has you so nervous?"

In one swift motion he threw the heavy book across the room and leaped to his feet. His hand closed over her throat seconds later. She feared to breathe.

"One squeeze of my hand and you're dead. You would do well to remember that I'm not someone you want as an enemy."

She was under the impression she was already his enemy and was on the verge of saying so when the door open. Based on the shock on his face, Draco didn't expect to walk in on what he did. Hermione could only imagine how menacing it all looked. Dolohov released his grip on her neck.

"Good. You're here. I have far more important things to do than babysit obnoxious little girls with cheeky mouths."

In his haste to exit the room, Dolohov nearly knocked Draco over. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him seemed to echo several moments after he was gone.

"Are you all right?"

She didn't expect Draco to care one way or the other how she was, but he'd surprised her more than once in recent months. There was far more to him that she ever realized. War changed them all for better or for worse.

"I'm okay. I don't think Dolohov likes me much."

The corner of his mouth threatened to turn up into a grin for a half a second.

"You need to be careful around him, Granger. My father says he was insane before he ever stepped foot in Azkaban."

Draco placed a large basket on top of a small table. It wasn't until he started pulling out food from within that Hermione realized she was starving. Dolohov was forgotten for the the moment as she tucked in. Food had been scarce since they were forced to abandon Grimmauld Place. She knew she would need to be careful what she ate lest she make herself sick.

"This is wonderful. Thank you, Draco."

If it was strange to express gratitude to one of her captors, Hermione didn't care. He could've easily brought her enough moldy bread and rancid meat to keep her alive. No one ever said he had to bring her good food. The bread was even still warm.

Draco was an even quieter guard than Dolohov. He watched Hermione eat, but didn't say anything. Each time it seemed like he was going to say something, he stopped himself. Hermione wished she could read his mind. Still, she knew being alone with him was less uncomfortable than being alone with Dolohov. Given the choice between the two, she would pick her old school rival.

"There's something I don't understand, Draco. Last night you and Dolohov both said I broke the Taboo. What does that mean?"

He was reluctant to answer, but she was insistent. Surely he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't give up easily.

"You said the Dark Lord's name. You can't say it. Anyone who does will get tracked down."

She'd never heard of such a thing, but also couldn't say she was surprised. Most people were scared to say Voldemort's name out loud. There had to be some sort of reason. Knowing her capture could've been avoided if she'd only kept her mouth shut was infuriating. One mistake. That was all it took to change her entire life.

"What's going to happen to me?"

"I don't…"

For a brief moment he seemed on the verge of speaking freely. As quickly as the urge appeared, it was gone. Reluctant to answer any questions and unable to look her in the eye, Draco rushed out of the room. He didn't come back.

Being left alone for hours gave Hermione the chance to test whether or not Dolohov was correct about her being unable to escape her prison. To her great disappointment, he appeared to be telling the truth. Nothing budged the door. The boarded up windows were also no help. For what felt like hours, she tested the entire room with no favorable results.

Frustrated and exhausted, she climbed back into the comfortable bed. There didn't seem to be anything else to do but sleep. For much of her life she felt like she never had enough time to sleep. Maybe her new circumstances might make for a pleasant change.

She didn't wake up until the bedroom door opened again. Worried it was Dolohov back to threaten her again, Hermione sat up in bed. It wouldn't do to be caught off-guard in a vulnerable position.

"Sorry, Princess. Didn't mean to wake you, but it's my turn to guard you."

There was a teasing lilt in his voice that got on her nerves. Not wanting to engage with the frustrating man, she laid back down without saying a word. She lay on her side with her back facing her unwanted visitor.

"It's bloody freezing in here! Why did we listen to Malfoy? We should've taken you somewhere warmer. Maybe I should've taken you to paradise."

She wasn't in the mood to talk. After two reticent guards she should've welcomed the change, but she just wanted to sleep. The sound of heavy boots hitting the wood floor forced her eyes open. Could he do nothing quietly? When she felt the blankets move and the bed dip down behind her, Hermione was even more annoyed.

"What do you think you're doing, Rowle?"

"It's been a long day and I'm exhausted."

"There's a chair on the other side of the room. Use that."

"No, don't think I will. This bed is big enough for both of us. Grandpa might've been content to sleep in a chair, but I'm not."

Kicking the wizard as hard as she could was a tough temptation to avoid. If he wouldn't leave, she would just keep her back to him and stay on the very edge of the mattress.

"Aren't you supposed to be guarding me?"

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Pulled tightly against his chest, Hermione couldn't move.

"Yes, I am and I can't think of a more effective way to keep you from running. Now, shut up. I'm very tired."