Chapter IV:

It had been four days since Hermione had seen him last. For the most part, she had remained in her room, even though she couldn't detect the presence of wards, she didn't dare to venture outside. She knew that she couldn't trust her instincts. One thing she was sure of, was that Draco Malfoy went above and beyond to ensure that she was taken care of. She had received meals three times a day, and every day at three pm and seven pm, a fancy teapot would materialize on a tray, with biscuits on the side. Every morning, at seven am, a house elf would arrive with a loud pop to check on her bandages, rub ointment on her scars, and leave three to four vials of different potions on her bed side table. At first, Hermione pretended to be asleep, only to protect her mind from possible insults in case the house elves were anything like the Kreacher. And only on the third day, at seven am, she was sitting in her bed when the house elf popped in, hands full, and Hermione instantly knew that she would be okay. The house elf in question had large, doe eyes filled with curiosity and a certain kind of gentleness that Hermione was hungry for. She couldn't help but burst into tears when she noticed the elf, carrying rolls of pink bandages. Apparently, she was inconsolable so, the female elf brought her some calming drought after which, Hermione finally managed to breathe and think calmly and inquire into the female elf's life and other elves that lived in the castle.

She couldn't help but be concerned, if Lucius Malfoy's treatment of Dobby was an indicator of how the house elves were treated in the Malfoy household. And she bit on her lower lip, chewing it when it had dawned on her that she had expected Draco to be different. She couldn't understand why or how. But, she was relieved when the female elf had confirmed her suspicions. In fact, it turned out, the three elves that were in charge of caring for the castle, were rather happy to see the young Master Malfoy especially, since they hadn't seen him since he was only a little boy.

Hermione was convinced that the Malfoys had an ulterior motive. The calculative Malfoys that she knew would have never aided her release from Bellatrix's clutches unless it didn't benefit them somehow. Or maybe, Draco wasn't as cruel as she made him out to be. Maybe, when he said that no one deserved to die that way, he really cared. Hermione wasn't convinced but, she also couldn't help but wonder why anyone would dare to go against someone like Bellatrix. Even if it was her nephew. Didn't Draco say that she was a war prize? It meant that Voldemort had kept Bellatrix in high regard if he had given her what she wanted. And Hermione was reminded daily in captivity that Bellatrix wasn't done with her, that she wanted Hermione all along, for she was unable to forgive the stunt she, Harry and Ron pulled when they entered her vault at Gringotts.

Hermione had a lot of time to ponder, to slowly gather her wits around the time that had passed. She wasn't ready to dissect her moments from when she was locked in a cage yet, but she was ready to look at the bigger picture. She also had managed to finish reading the History of Magical Scotland, the book turned out to be an exquisite read, and what surprised her most wasn't the contents that she had devoured with ease and joy but the messy handwriting along the edges of the text that she was sure belonged to Draco. She took her time studying them, as if trying to understand him better, or see into the inner workings of his mind. In her eyes, he was a contradiction, she had always been convinced that there was a different side to him, one that she had learned of, first hand by observing him in and out of classes. Apart from his view of the world, he was a brilliant wizard, he had managed to excel in everything that he had put his mind to; from academics to Quidditch. She struggled with the truth that he was a Death Eater and that he was tasked with killing Dumbledore. Hermione had always expected bright witches and wizards to make better choices, it should have been given, logic had always won and maybe, somewhere deep within, she still believed that he could do better if given the chance.

He still proved himself to be a contradiction because, surely he knew that she'd read the notes he took, the pages he marked and words he underlined. What was he trying to achieve? Her brows were furrowed and her mind was working hard to solve the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy when another book materialized in front of her.

The Sacred Twenty Eight it read.

She hesitated then, stared down at her lap. Hermione Granger never discriminated against books, good or bad, critically acclaimed or obscure, every book deserved a chance in her mind. But, that moment, for the first time in her life, she forced herself to pick up the book or touch it. Maybe, this was the trap. One that would finally kill her. Maybe, they were playing a game. She was sure many knew that she wouldn't be able to resist a book.

She shook her head, no, how stupid would that be.

Carefully, she picked it up. It was heavier than it looked. Hermione placed it on her lap and then sat in silence, unable to tear her gaze away from the cover. The title said it all, she didn't have to guess what was inside. Why did Draco want her to read it? She hadn't been interested in the family histories of the sacred twenty eight because some of those families were determined to make her life hell and see her dead and ensure that witches and wizards like her had no business in the wizarding world. These families believed that Hermione had stolen her wand and marched into a life that she was never meant to live. But, she also knew that not all of the Sacred Twenty Eight were in support of the pureblood supremacy; Weasleys were different and so were Professor Slughorn and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Suddenly, she felt her heart tug and ache. She wondered what had happened to her friends, professors and Order members in the aftermath. She wondered if there was anyone alive, maybe held captive somewhere just like she was.

Hints of red pulled her out of the black abyss she was willingly falling into, squinting her eyes, she noticed a bookmark, it was barely visible but it was there. The red created a contrast against the dark brown backdrop of the cover. Hermione tugged on it gently, and the book opened revealing the chapter on the Black family. Another bookmark revealed itself once she started scrolling through the pages, Hermione tugged on it and revealed a chapter on the Malfoy family.

This was odd to say the least.

It felt odd that Draco would trust her so much, or maybe he was hinting at something, there had to be something else that she wasn't aware of.

With her brows furrowed, she sank in her chair, and began reading the first chapter on the Malfoy family.

Hours later, she was awakened by screaming.

The book on her chest fell onto the ground with a loud thud, and Hermione felt her ears buzzing. Unsure of what was going on, her fingers curled into fists to stop her hands from shaking. She was sure she was about to have a nervous breakdown or a heart attack because, maybe this was it. Bellatrix finally had come to claim what was hers. Hermione jumped to her feet, and ran to the door. Pressing her ear to the heavy black wood, she tried to listen to the sounds to determine where they were coming from. She quickly deduced that they had to come from downstairs. There were rushed steps in the distance, and a few loud pops. She realized that there was a staircase nearby and heavy footsteps ascended then, descended it, doors opened and closed. Her ears could pick up yelling; domineering and demanding and then, heavy and muffled protests that followed.

Hermione didn't realize how her fingers curled around the door knob turning it to reveal the dark hallway ahead of her. Her mind failed to remind her of the worries she had before, about the wards and traps but, the survival instinct had kicked in and it would be uncharacteristic of her to just hide in her room and wait. The hallway was dark, and oddly free of portraits. She hadn't been to many aristocratic houses but, she remembered the Grimmauld Place and there were portraits everywhere. She deduced they had been moved, because she could see the distinct shadows of frames that once occupied the walls.

"Quit being so stubborn, Draco" she heard a female voice. And Hermione couldn't help but lean against the wall, allowing her steps to lead her further down the hallway and into the light. She saw the grand staircase that curled like a snake onto the first floor. She paused, unsure of what to do. Draco had never told her that she couldn't leave her room, he just warned her that her escape attempts would be futile. Reluctantly, she pulled herself off the wall, and edged closer to the staircase, she could see the movement below, hurried steps, and rushed whispers. A door opened and closed and then, there was silence. Hermione had a peek to see if there was anyone down below. She sighed in relief when she realized she was alone and she hesitantly made her way down the stairs, the floors cracked under her bare feet. And she paused, taking her time to descend each step, her fingers caressing the wall, as if looking for some sort of encouragement, support from invisible forces.

There were two doors to her left and she could see the light sipping through the crack in the middle. She approached it on her tiptoes and leaned carefully forward, at first she couldn't make out the faces and the voices. There was a lot of movement. But, she patiently waited and her eyes widened when she saw what was playing in front of her. By the fireplace, there were two large couches, Draco was occupying one, his arm wrapped around his torso, she saw his bruised face and she gulped. Pansy Parkinson was fussing over his shirt, to expose the deep cut on his right hand side. Hermione saw him clenching a fist around his wand that he didn't want to let go. There was a tall figure that hovered over them both and it took her a few seconds to realize that it was Blaise Zabini. Unlike Pansy, he was clad in all black robes that matched Draco's. He was giving orders to the house elves that popped in and out of the room. Blaise's hand was occupied with potions and he was searching and searching until he found the one that would work.

"Open up, pretty boy" he spoke, and Hermione shivered hearing how deep his voice had become. Draco hesitated, in fact she wasn't sure if he was fully conscious. Blaise pressed his fingers around Draco's jaw and forced him to swallow the potion that he held in his hand. "You lost too much blood" she heard him say, he seemed to be the only one who was calm and composed in the room. Hermione's gaze wandered and she saw another figure standing next to the fireplace, his face cradled in his hand.

"Why do you always have to be so careless?" Pansy spat, pressing her hand on Draco's side, while working her wand to stop the bleeding. Blaise Zabini was forcing Draco to drink another potion and then another. Her gaze wandered to the figure that stood by the fireplace who had begun to bang his head against the marble.

"Seriously?" She heard Pansy yell, who took her shoe off and threw it at the man, hitting his back. "Pull your shit together, I swear- !" another yell and her second shoe hit the back of his head this time. The man turned and threw a glare at Pansy, "Hit me again, I will-"

"What? What will you do, Theo?" Pansy cut him off, waving her blood stained hand in the dismissive manner as if telling him to bugger off.

That was when Hermione noticed the amount of blood Draco was losing, her eyes widened in horror and she didn't hear herself scream in shock, but apparently everyone else did despite all the yelling.

"My, my look what we have here" she heard Nott's drawl once he pulled the doors open. "I spy with my wizard eye, a tiny little spy."

"Perfect! Just what we need, a mudblood to soil the air he breathes-" Hermione couldn't even look and meet his eye but she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge Pansy's reaction. "I thought you said she was locked up somewhere Draco-"

Were they back together?

A part of her mind questioned and Hermione might have stared at her hands in utter shock when she realized what she was thinking.

"She looks scary as fuck without her bird nest of a hair" she heard another voice and she reluctantly looked up to meet Blaise Zabini's harsh gaze. He stared down at her, as if he knew all her darkest secrets, as if he had deciphered the puzzle that Hermione Granger was, and he hated everything that he had found out about her. "What did your aunt do with it, Draco? She made sweaters for the elves?"

His comments caught her off guard. And unexpectedly, a tear ran down her cheeks, she would have protested, said something in return but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was paralyzed and staring at her bare feet as if to conceal her embarrassment. Unfortunately, her cheeks had failed her because they blushed furiously. Draco hadn't mentioned her hair situation to her face and she was grateful. She had avoided staring at the mirror and she had no intention of doing it anyway. Hermione had never been the vein one but her hair had always been part of her identity.

"Leave her alone" she finally heard his voice. His voice was ashy and it sounded as if he could hardly breathe. Hermione finally met his gaze, and she took a shaky breath, for she had never seen Draco in such a state. This was nothing like his Quidditch injuries, even when Harry hexed him with Sectumsempra, Hermione hadn't seen him in recovery. This state that he was in, was something shocking and unexpected for her. He had bruises on his face, and a cut across his left cheekbone that Pansy had patched up, his right hand side was bleeding, he had lost a lot of blood, some of it staining the couch before pooling under Pansy's feet, and since she had no shoes on, her stockings were stained with the crimson liquid. But, the witch didn't mind, she would do anything for Draco.

Hermione had no doubt about that.

"Did you run the diagnostics? He might still be bleeding inside" Hermione commented, to the shock of everyone in the room. Suddenly, four pairs of eyes were staring at her and it made her very uncomfortable. She cleared her throat, and spoke louder when no one said a word, "Were you stabbed or were you hexed? If you have been hexed, treatment would be more complex than just stitching and blood replenishing potions" and she didn't miss Pansy Parkinson's glare, and Blaise Zabini's loud snort.

"You might have the biggest brain Granger but, we are not fucking idiots. You wren-'' Pansy yelled at her, with a deep frown on her face and Hermione saw Draco reach out to grab Pansy's wrist and caress it gently, murmuring something that only Pansy could hear. Whatever it was, it worked because Pansy turned her attention to Draco with the most gentle expression she could muster, instead of finishing the insult she was about to throw Hermione's way.

"Why don't you go and floo call mother? I don't want her to panic and try to come back when she hears what happened" Draco told Zabini.

Zabini hadn't left Draco's side even though Pansy was doing the majority of the dirty work. He silently protested, shaking his head before he spoke. "Send Nott. He could be less useless then-"

"Can you just follow orders for once?" she heard Draco snap with a sigh.

"And miss all the fun? I haven't seen you whine in years- so, hell no" Blaise protested, curling his arms around his chest. The two of them looked like they were back in Hogwarts, bickering over little things in life that barely mattered but were so important to boys that had just begun to experience puberty.

"Fine, you ass- Theo, will you?"

Nott nodded, running his fingers through his hair. She quickly noticed that he was wearing the same kind of robes as Draco and Blaise but she realized there was a small difference. The embellishments on the collars were different for all three. Draco and Blaise had the same color, a gold trim but the pattern was different while Theo's was silver and a different pattern all together. He turned to face Hermione and he smirked a little, eyeing her shamelessly that made Hermione flinch uncomfortably. He leaned to whisper in her ear as he passed by.

"Don't mind Blaise, he is just bitter that you look better than him with no hair. Looking quite badass, Granger" Hermione's eyes widened, was he complimenting her? "Welcome to the snake pit, soon you will be just like us" she heard him click his tongue before walking away.

"Theodore- play nice or no candy" she heard Draco speak and she blushed furiously, lowering her head.

She remained like that in silence, nibbling on her lower lip and she failed to recognize a pair of grey eyes staring at her and studying her reaction with a deep frown of his own. She was pulled from her shock by Pansy's voice who announced to the whole room that she was done patching up Draco's wounds. Hermione looked up and noticed Blaise leaning over Draco's exposed chest to study Pansy's work, "Impressive, Pans- you are getting better at this" he complimented. She watched Pansy lean down and place a kiss on Draco's temple, whispering to him and he listened with his eyes closed. Pansy's fingers were caressing Draco's frown and he visibly relaxed into the witch's touch. She didn't miss the little detail that his fingers were still wrapped around Pansy's wrist. Hermione looked away, feeling uncomfortable as if she was witnessing an intimate moment between them and unfortunately to her, her gaze fell on Zabini's who was staring at her with an indecipherable smirk on his lips.

"B and I will go and check the wards around the estate. I know-" Pansy assured Draco running her fingers through his hair, "but, we need to be safe than sorry later."

"Go" Draco mumbled, nodding his head.

"What do we do with the mudblood?" Pansy stared at her, eyeing her with a disgusted look on her face.

"Leave her, she is harmless and you know it-" Draco replied and before Pansy could protest, Hermione saw him squeeze Pansy's wrist.

"Come on, Pans-" Blaize's gaze hadn't left Hermione's even for a second, "We'll get Theo on our way, three is better than two" he said, and bumped into Hermione's shoulder as he walked by. He wasn't careful but he wasn't careless either.

Blaise Zabini was making a point, letting her know where he stood.

With the snakes. And she was an unwanted outsider.

Hermione lowered her head and listened to them exit the room, closing the door behind them.

"Come here, Granger. Don't be shy and sit" she heard him speak.

Hermione felt uncomfortable, she wanted to run upstairs to her room but, seeing how hurt he was, and staring at his ashy face, she couldn't deny him that request. Walking over, she took a seat on the couch across from him. .

"What happened, Draco?" she asked, she didn't expect him to be honest. But, she couldn't curb her curiosity. She just needed to know what was going on the outside. She needed to know what the world was like, so she could better assess her chances of survival when she ran.

"Heard some ass talk shit about my aunt, I didn't handle it well" he lay on the couch, with his head pressed to the pillows that were stained with blood. Hermione couldn't help but stare at his bare chest, noticing several scars.

"Despite what you might think, Granger. She is still my aunt, my blood and my honor. I told you the world you once knew is long gone. We have new rules now. And I had to play my part. Besides, I gave the Dark Lord exactly what he wanted"

Hermione's eyes widened. "The Dark Lord?"

"My aunt isn't the only one who likes to play. Her lover is worse than her, I told you" he spoke slowly, trying to direct his energy to heal his wounds instead. Bellatrix and Voldemort were lovers, Hermione couldn't imagine what that was like or maybe it worked perfectly, because she was sure that in Bellatrix's eyes, Voldemort was the most perfect of all beings. "If a pureblood is insulted, he encourages the honor to be restored by dueling. Sometimes, it's just fists, no wands or magic. Quite ironic if you ask me since the world the Dark Lord has built revolves around rejecting muggle ways."

"You should rest, Draco. Don't waste your energy" in reality, she wanted to ask him if it hurt too bad, no- she wanted to ask him if he had regular meetings with Voldemort. She wanted to ask him, if she should bring him some dreamless sleep potion no- she wanted to ask him if Voldemort knew that she was with him and not with Bellatrix. She wanted to run more diagnostics to make sure Pansy didn't miss anything no- she wanted to ask what the color of their collars meant.

As if sensing her busy mind, Draco stared at her.

"Tell me Granger. What did you think about Malfoys' role during the War of the Roses?"

Hermione stared at him in shock and she remembered the book that materialized that morning. She blushed, frowning a little. "As if you don't know-"

"I do but, knowing Blaise, I know they will take a while. He is very meticulous especially when it comes to disgraced Death Eaters who might want to seek revenge and right now, he is pissed beyond words. He doesn't take it well when his friends get hurt. So, I need you to keep me company until they return or go back to your room and stay there-" he insisted.

Hermione wasn't sure if she should. She didn't feel safe or comfortable around them but, a part of her hesitated to leave him alone, in the state he was in. Clearing her throat, she allowed the words to spill from her lips on their own. Being the overachiever that she was, she had expertly outlined the timeline of the Malfoys' arrival to then, England and continued to state not one but multiple arguments from different perspectives on Malfoys' involvement in the War of the Roses.

By the time she was done with her thesis, she had noticed that Draco had fallen asleep. So, she pursed her lips and studied his exhausted expression. He looked vulnerable, and she realized she hadn't seen him look like that in a long time. She reached out with her hand before she stopped herself with eyes wide open. What was she doing? Was she reaching for his wand that was neatly pressed against his exposed chest? The answer terrified her. While she struggled to identify the truth, her hand remained in the air, reaching out to Draco but Hermione was just frozen, unsure of what her body was doing.

"Trying to strangle him, Granger?" she heard Theo's voice and she gasped, pulling away to sit back on the sofa, cheeks flushing a shade of red.

"She probably wanted to strangle him in his sleep" Blaise's voice boomed, and he stepped into her vision, "I should build her a pretty little birdcage. Maybe, mudblood can learn a lesson the hard way not to touch her Master without permission."

Hermione froze, lowering her gaze, she realized that she was in big, big trouble.

Author's note: I apologize for posting this update a day late, I wasn't feeling well yesterday and struggled to finish it. I will let you decide the name for the female elf. You can leave a review or find me on Tumblr, check my profile for the link and share there. I will be posting the story's aesthetics over there as well as answer any questions you might have about the story- xoxo