Bittersweet and Strange
Chapter 5: Just a Little Change
Hermione's world was a much quieter place since she had told Draco how she felt. She honestly hadn't been sure whether or not he would keep his word and stay away from her, but he did. Several days had passed since their last big argument, and Hermione had hardly seen Draco at all since then.
Instead, every morning there was a new note posted to the outside of her bedroom door. On the paper was a short list of duties which Hermione was expected to fulfill by the end of the day. She fixed his meals and left them on the table, choosing to eat in her room rather than chance facing him. She had scrubbed all the floors of the second story and some of the third. She had even managed to find the tower, which seemed to hold little else than a few bookshelves. Hermione had made a mental note to return when she had time and see what books were up there.
The work was arduous, but Hermione didn't mind it. She was glad to have something to do, a way to keep busy. She could imagine that the manor would be very beautiful if it had not been laid to such waste in the years following Draco's curse.
Besides, it gave her time to think of ways to escape. The only problem was, she hadn't come up with a single idea.
The only ways out of the castle were entirely blocked with heavy thorn vines, and even if Hermione managed to pry them away, she still was bound to Draco. The thought made her blood boil, but she couldn't ignore the facts. Draco was bound to the house, and Hermione was bound to him, which meant she couldn't leave the castle. Just thinking about it was enough to make her go crazy.
She was sure the Order would come for her eventually; they had probably already been looking for her. It could take weeks, even months, for them to track her down, obscured as her location was. Without her magic, she had no way of sending them a message. And even if they found her, how could they get her out? They couldn't enter, and Hermione couldn't leave. It seemed like a hopeless situation.
Still, Hermione was making the best of it. The third floor loo was sparkling.
Hermione picked up her bucket of water and started hauling it and her mop to the next room. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and pulled open the next door to her right. It, too, was empty except for a few chairs and a bureau. It would seem Malfoy didn't inherit any of his mother's decorating abilities, Hermione thought to herself.
She set the bucket down heavily and groaned, stretching her back in an attempt to alleviate the stiffness. She had been mopping for four hours now; it was probably close to noon. Hermione leaned her broom against the wall and wiped her hands on her pants, heading for the staircase.
Hermione made a sandwich for Draco and set it on the counter with a glass of water. She started out the door with her own plate but suddenly stopped and turned back. She rummaged through the cupboard for a moment before pulling out a tiny glass vial with green liquid inside. The vial was still cracked from when Draco threw it against the wall. Hermione's first reflex was to pull out her wand and charm the crack away, but she shook her head at her forgetfulness. Old habits died hard.
She set the little bottle next to Draco's sandwich. It had been chilly in the house that morning, and Hermione guessed that his scars had probably been hurting him.
Hermione sat cross-legged in the tower, her back against the wall as she finished her sandwich and flipped through a spell book she had found in one of the bookcases. It was a lot like the other three she had looked through; she already knew most of the spells, and the ones she didn't know couldn't help her without a wand. So far, she hadn't come across a thing that would help her with her current situation. Without magic, the spells wouldn't do her any good, but if she could find a few reverse spells, it could make all the difference when the Order finally found her.
Hermione sighed and snapped the book shut. Not for the first time, she wished desperately that she hadn't come by herself. It had been a foolish mistake, and one that had cost her dearly. What if the Order couldn't find her? What if they looked for her and gave her up for dead? Surely they wouldn't do that.
However, a part of her almost hoped they wouldn't come after her. Despite her fiercest hopes, the Order could be put in great danger if they came on too strong, and Hermione hoped they would put the safety of the group before her personal safety.
Then Hermione had a terrible thought. What if someone could use Legilimency against her to figure out the Order's whereabouts? She knew Occlumency well enough, but without her wand, she was considerably weaker. Draco probably couldn't do it, but Hermione had no trust that Blaise or Theodore – or even Narcissa – wouldn't try it. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. She would rather be dead than betray her friends, even unknowingly.
Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to forget her worries by throwing herself into her work. The two spare bedrooms were done in a couple of hours, and by dinnertime, Hermione had finished scrubbing the floor of the last room on the third story.
Satisfied with her work, Hermione ran up the stairs to the tower, grabbed the books she had been reading, and stashed them under her bed on the second floor. Even if she couldn't use any of the spells to escape, she still might find something useful.
Returning to the kitchen to start dinner, Hermione cast a glance past Draco's open bedroom door as she passed it. It was empty. Hermione wondered where he had been all day.
A bit of weak twilight streamed through the vines over the kitchen's single window. It cast odd patterns on the gray stone floor as Hermione walked across them, the dust in the air kicking up at her movements. The kitchen would be her next job, she decided, as long as Draco didn't give her some other mammoth task.
Try as she might, Hermione couldn't keep her thoughts from wandering to Draco as she fixed their dinner. Her mind kept going back to their big fight in the entry hall, and that strange look he had given her in the hallway. What did it all mean? Surely he wasn't attracted to her. No matter what he insisted, Draco Malfoy had always thought of her as the scum of the earth. His motives may not make any sense, but Hermione was positive that he was trying to use her for something.
Still, if he wanted her, why not just take her? She would be practically defenseless against him if he really decided to chase her. It was her worst nightmare, and she was glad he wasn't making any advances toward her, but she couldn't help but wonder what his reasoning was. Hermione shook her head. It was all a big mystery.
Hermione had just finished toasting some bread in the oven when she heard the front door swing open and a feminine voice call out, "Draco!"
It sounded like Narcissa. The voice called again, followed by a few echoing steps in the entry hall. Hermione stayed quiet. She hoped Narcissa wouldn't notice her presence. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with both Malfoys at once.
Narcissa shouted for her son once more before Hermione heard a door slam upstairs and quick footfalls coming down the staircase. "Hello, Mum," Hermione heard Draco say.
"Hello, dear," Narcissa replied. "My, this place is clean. You've been putting her to work, haven't you?"
"Um, yeah, I guess so," Draco replied, sounding nervous.
Hermione set a piece of bread on each of the plates, then grabbed hers and started for the opposite doorway. If she could sneak around through the three empty rooms, she could probably go unnoticed.
No such luck. Narcissa's footsteps sounded closer as she rang out, "And what is that wonderful smell? It almost smells like chicken. I do hope you've been eating, Draco," she said as she rounded the corner. Narcissa stopped, eyebrows high, when she saw Hermione, half-in and half-out of the kitchen. "Oh, well, there she is."
Draco's head appeared around the corner. He swallowed as he followed his mother through the dining room and into the kitchen. "Oh, uh, I guess so."
Hermione sighed and stepped back into the kitchen. Narcissa didn't say anything at first, just looking at Hermione curiously and then at the plate of food in her hand. She allowed herself a slight smile. "Well, Amelia Finberry, it's good to see that you're making my son eat. He's thinner than a rail these days. I hope he's doing better now."
"Mum," Draco warned.
"Yes, ma'am," Hermione replied curtly.
Narcissa nodded approvingly and turned back to Draco. "Well, how are you feeling, Draco? It was a bit colder today than usual. I hope you didn't feel too poorly."
"No, I took the painkiller and felt all right," Draco answered, avoiding Hermione's eyes.
Narcissa noticed. "Well, good. I'm glad." She glanced back at Hermione. "How is the girl working out for you?"
"She's fine."
"Do you get along?"
"Well enough."
Narcissa frowned. "Well enough? Now, Draco, that's not an answer."
"What answer would you prefer?" Draco asked.
"Well, does she do what you ask her to do? Does she work hard? Does she talk back? I'm sure it's hard to discipline a slave without magic, but I'm sure you know how to put her in her place."
"Mum!" Draco broke in. "Everything is fine. She has her duties, I have my work. We stay busy, we avoid each other's paths, and it all works out nicely." Draco chanced a look at Hermione, who simply stared at him. She hoped her hands weren't shaking.
Narcissa gave Draco a suspicious eye, then turned to Hermione. "And what are your thoughts? Are you finding this arrangement suitable?"
Hermione tried to keep her voice steady. "Whether I am or not, I'm making the best of the situation. I'm keeping busy."
"I see," Narcissa replied after a short pause. She glanced at Draco then asked Hermione, "Has he been drinking at all?"
Draco spluttered, and Hermione answered, "Only a little, ma'am."
Narcissa pursed her lips and eyed the plate of food on the counter. "Well," she said. "I don't want to interrupt your dinner, Draco. I'll be going. Is there anything you need?"
Draco shook his head. "No, Mum. I'm fine. Are you sure you can't stay?"
Narcissa gave him a fond smile, but Hermione spoke before she could. "I can make more food if you want to stay," Hermione offered. "You can have mine. I'll eat later."
Draco agreed. "Yes, Mum. I'm not very hungry if you want mine."
"Oh, dear, no," Narcissa replied, looking a bit flustered but pleased. "I only came to see you, Draco. I don't want –"
"You're not barging in on anything," Draco replied firmly. "Um, Finberry, give her my plate."
Narcissa shook her head firmly as Hermione handed her Draco's plate. "No, Draco, you need to eat. I'll have dinner when I get home."
"I insist, Mum," Draco said, guiding her to sit at the kitchen table. "I have some things I want to talk to you about."
Narcissa was silent for a moment, looking uncomfortable as she glanced between Draco and Hermione. At last she sighed. "All right, Draco. Thank you. And thank you," she added, nodding to Hermione.
Hermione nodded back and set her own plate in front of Draco as he sat at the table. She was already out the door and on the staircase before he could protest.
Fleur Weasley and Michael Corner Apparated into the meeting room of the Fortress at the same time, followed seconds later by Neville, Luna, and a disheveled-looking Susan Bones. George leaped to his feet and shouted for the rest of the Order. Seamus and Parvati jerked their heads up from the table, where they had fallen asleep. Romilda and Dean, followed closely by Padma, Millicent, Lee, and Nigel, ran in moments later.
"Well?" George demanded, holding out his hand to steady Neville.
The entire room seemed to be holding its breath. Neville shook his head defeatedly. "Not a sign."
A collective groan rose up through the Order, and Parvati dropped into a nearby chair, one hand over her mouth. Michael helped Susan into a seat and began examining a large cut on her cheek.
"What happened?" Lee asked.
Neville sat down as well, running a hand through his hair. "We searched everywhere. We took turns going into the slave pavilions, and we went through all the stores, all the alleyways. Luna even asked for a transcript of the slave lists, but the bloke wouldn't show her. Michael and Fleur went down to the old Hogwarts ruins, but they didn't find anything either."
"What happened to Susan?" Romilda queried.
Neville shook his head. "A stupid move on our part. I asked one of the women at a vegetable stand if she had seen any unfamiliar witches around, and while I was over there, someone recognized Susan and started calling out to her. Naturally, Susan ran, and I had to catch up with her. That got a lot of attention, and then I couldn't find Luna so we could Apparate out… It was a big mess. Susan got caught by one of the men, and I had to wrestle him off of her. Luna found us, and we Apparated to Hogwarts, the back here."
Dean whistled softly. "You're lucky you got out of there."
"I know."
"What does this mean, Neville?" Millicent asked. "For all of us?"
Neville sighed again. "It means Luna, Susan, and I can't go on any more missions – at least not for a while. We can't risk it. I think Michael and Fleur will be all right, but we're going to have to use Polyjuice Potions every time we go out. I know it's precious, but we can't chance being recognized. If one is caught, it could mean we all lose everything."
"Any sign of Dennis?" Nigel asked. He looked and sounded very discouraged.
Luna gave him a small smile. "We've been on the lookout for him, Nigel. I'm sure we'll find something soon."
George looked at Neville seriously. "What about Hermione, Neville? We can't just give up on her."
"Nobody said anything about giving up, George," Neville said evenly. "We just need different tactics is all."
"I told you, I'll go," George replied. "I'll go search by myself if it's safer that way."
"George," Fleur said gently, "eet ees too dangerous. You are perhaps at more reesk than any of us."
"Fleur's right," Neville agreed. "We can't lose you, George. And everyone in the Ministry knows you're still alive."
George grimaced. "I know. I just wish I could do something to help."
"You are helping, George," Padma piped up. "You help run things here when Neville's gone."
George shook his head but didn't say anything. Neville leaned back in his chair and glanced around the table. "Where's everybody else?"
Seamus looked up. "Well, Penelope and Oliver are manning the watchtowers, and Cho is trying to get some sleep."
Neville nodded. "We could all use some of that."
"Sleep isn't going to help Hermione," George countered.
Neville laid his head on his forearms and didn't reply. The meeting room was in total silence for a while. Until they heard the shout.
Cho slid into the room, her face a mask of excitement. "Neville! Everyone! I just got an owl from Katie Bell! She's found Dennis!"
Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief when she heard Narcissa and Draco saying goodbye and then the magical sealing of the front door. It wasn't so much a genuine dislike for the woman; it was more of a built-in mistrust for anyone affiliated with Voldemort. Even though Narcissa was unaware of her identity, Hermione couldn't help but feel unsafe around her, no matter what Draco said.
She was starving, but she decided to wait a few more minutes before going down to the kitchen. She didn't know what had possessed her to give her plate to Draco – it certainly wasn't a desire to show off in front of Narcissa – but she suspected that Draco and Narcissa usually had dinner together. Hermione pitied the older woman; it was the only time she ever got to see her son, and Hermione didn't want to rob her of that.
After fifteen minutes, Hermione decided that Draco was probably gone and that it was safe to go down to the kitchen. She padded down the hall quietly, noting that Draco's bedroom door was shut. That was a good sign.
However, her deductions were proved wrong when she stepped into the kitchen and found Draco… washing the dishes?
Draco looked as surprised as Hermione felt when he turned around and saw her. "Oh, Granger. Sorry, I, uh…" He didn't seem to know what to say. "I was just… doing the dishes."
Hermione blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah." He glanced around nervously, trying not to meet her eyes. His gaze landed on the plate sitting on the table. "Oh! Here. I made you some dinner. I'm not much of a cook, but, uh…"
Hermione took the offered plate and looked at him incredulously. "You made this?"
"Yeah. I mean, I thought it was the least I could do. You gave me your plate."
Hermione shrugged. "It's what any slave would do."
"Still, you didn't have to do that." He was quiet for a moment. "You didn't have to be so cordial to my mother, either. It was very… polite of you."
"It was nothing," Hermione said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"It was something," he insisted. "It's the one time we get to see each other. I was glad to get to talk to her. Thanks for that."
Hermione shrugged again. "Sure."
Neither of them spoke, but Draco finally said, "And thanks for setting my medicine out."
"I noticed it was gone when I was making dinner," she commented.
"Yeah. How did you know I needed it?"
"It was cold this morning. I figured your scars would be acting up."
"They were. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Was it warmer in the kitchen than it had been earlier?
Draco nodded absently, then turned back to the sink and kept washing the dishes. Hermione watched him for a moment before saying, "I'll finish the dishes, if you want."
Draco didn't turn around. "No, it's all right. You're probably tired from all the work you've been doing. You can go ahead and eat. I'll finish the dishes."
Hermione bit her lip. So he was playing the nice card again. "You don't have to do that."
"I know."
His simple response left little room for argument. Hermione shrugged and started for the door. "I'll eat in my room, if that's all right?"
"Sure," he replied. "You can set your plate outside your door when you're done. I'll come and get them."
Hermione tried not to sound harsh. "I am capable of walking down a staircase, you know."
"I know."
Well. There was no point in protesting, Hermione assumed. She turned and went back to her room without a word.
Hermione closed the book she had been reading with a sigh. While eating the simple meal Draco had fixed for her, she had thumbed through the remaining two books she had found in the tower. So far, nothing seemed to be helpful.
Hermione's thoughts drifted to Draco. Why had she been so rude earlier? He was just trying to pay her back for her good deed. Even if he had ulterior motives, washing the dishes and making her dinner had been a genuinely kind thing to do, and Hermione regretted acting so suspicious toward him. She made up her mind to try to be more receptive in the future. Receptive, not vulnerable.
Draco seemed to be honest, she couldn't help but think. He hadn't done anything to make her think he was using her or hoped to betray her. If he wanted to do that, he probably would have handed her over to Voldemort already. Besides, Narcissa had said he was lonely and possibly even suicidal. It had to have been pure torture living alone and without magic for five years. Perhaps he really did just want a friend.
Hermione nodded her head resolutely. She would at least do him that favor.
She stood from her bed and tucked the spell books under her bed. Maybe she would read them later if she couldn't find anything else of interest in the tower. She picked up her plate and water glass and headed for the door. When she opened it to set her plate down, she noticed that something was already there.
It was a stack of books. Setting her plate down, Hermione slid her finger down the bindings of the books. Several appeared to be history books, and others were magical instruction accounts, biographies, and novels. Had Draco put those there? Surely Narcissa hadn't. She hadn't even left the kitchen.
Then Hermione realized. Draco hadn't known how to give her the books himself, so he devised a way to get them to her without embarrassing himself and without making her wonder who they were for. Hermione bit back a laugh. Even though they weren't necessarily the books she would have picked on her own, it had been a thoughtful gesture, and she wondered if she should be suspicious of it. She decided to just accept them and move on. Hermione was willing to bet money that she wouldn't be seeing Draco much for the next few days.
As she closed her door and started flipping through the first of the history books, Hermione thought that maybe it wouldn't be so hard to coexist with Draco as she had thought.
A/N: Hey, my wonderful readers! I would just like to say how sorry I am about how long it's taken me to write this latest chapter. School has been crazy lately, and I haven't had any time to write. I'm really sorry to have kept you waiting, but I hope this chapter makes up for it. And for those of you who weren't satisfied, well... the next chapter might be a little more to your taste ;) You have all been so sweet and encouraging with your reviews. It brightens my day when I see them!
Thank you all for reading my story! I'll see you as soon as I can with a new chapter! Happy days and sweet dreams to you all!