"Are you going to tell them?" Draco whispered, walking to the gates of the Manor.
"I don't have much of a choice."
Hermione's mind was a cluster of thoughts and emotions. She was both angry and terrified, yet the worry sure as hell wasn't helping her not thinking about all the ways she could make Blaise pay.
Draco took her hand as the gates turned into smoke to let them in.
"What are you planning to do? You're way too composed."
She smiled at his remark and shrugged. "Just thinking about the new battleplan."
"Which is?" He pushed.
"I don't know yet," she sighed. "It all depends on how things will escalate, I'm just considering the possibilities. I don't know if we should come back to school tomorrow or stay here some more days to figure out what to do and how in Merlin's name we should handle this."
"You mean the Order or the Dark Lord's temporary replacement?"
"Both. I wonder who's in charge of the Order since Dumbledore's dead. As for the Death Eaters, we can only wait for the developments. I can't really make a decision without even knowing how they're going to react."
Draco put his hand on the knob of the front door and it magically opened for them. They quickly reached the empty Drawing Room and Hermione couldn't remember ever feeling that nervous. She took off her cloak and left it hanging on the Dark Lord's seat, sitting down. Looking at herself, she noticed she was still in her magic-proof – way too short for her liking – Hogwarts uniform. Draco followed her to the grand table and leaned on it in front of her, taking her hands in his own.
"Are you okay?" He whispered.
Hermione nodded and leaned her head on his chest, taking a deep breath, "I can do this."
She let go of him and exposed her now red Mark, then touched it as the Dark Lord did, feeling a dozen minds suddenly connect with her own. She pictured Malfoy Manor and filled the call with as much urgency as she could.
"Let the show begin," he murmured.
Multiple Death Eaters then started to appear. The inhabitants of the Manor, such as Bellatrix, the Lestranges and Lucius Malfoy were the first to arrive, staring at her outraged and confused.
"Where's the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix asked, glaring at her.
By that time, everyone was already there.
"Sit down, all of you," she sighed and people started taking their seats, apart from a few exceptions.
"How dare you be in my master's seat, you filthy Mudblood?" Bellatrix shouted and fired a – deadly, she was sure – hex at her, that she managed to block in time.
Hermione stood up and pointed her wand back at her. "Sit. Down."
By that point everyone but her had taken a seat, some more reluctant than others.
"Where is the Dark Lord?" Lucius Malfoy asked again. She noticed Draco was back in his seat next to him. She'd have to change some seating arrangements later, Bellatrix being that close wasn't going to be any good, not in that kind of situation. Snape, on the other hand, was eyeing her with a mix of amusement and badly concealed disgust, which she was sure was more than intentional.
"The only thing I know is that he put me in charge until he comes back, I have no idea when that will be or where he is," Hermione finally answered, slowly.
And then it was chaos. Not that she was expecting anything else.
"What is the meaning of this?" Walden Macnair, one of the worst human beings she had ever met, was barely able to sit still.
"Something happened. I don't know what that is, or when it happened, he just stormed into Hogwarts and gave me this," she said and showed him her new bright red Mark. "And then disappeared."
It was like she could hear every single person murmuring and swearing in the room. Some were confused, others simply angry, others had the same look in their eyes Bellatrix had when it came to killing.
"How is it possible?" Dolohov eyed her curiously, with something in his expression she couldn't quite grasp.
"How am I supposed to know? He didn't do or say anything else besides leaving me here to run his show with zero instructions." Hermione was sure it wasn't hard to pick up on the annoyance in her voice.
"This has to be a joke," Lucius said.
"Did he look any different? Perhaps that wasn't even him and that Mark of yours was cursed or something." Antonin Dolohov was now completely tuned towards her in his seat, hands in pockets and looking rather calm.
"That was him. And no, he didn't look different, just sick. He cought blood after changing my Mark and disappeared. He didn't even look like he could properly stand. Something happened."
"Could the Order have anything to do with this?"
Should she tell them? Surely the Dark Lord had known for some time before telling her Harry was alive but there had to be a reason he hadn't shared the information with the Death Eaters.
"It's possible. We can't afford to exclude any option, right now."
The room turned silent for a few moments before Bellatrix pointed her wand at her, about to shoot another possibly deadly hex her way.
"Filthy Mudblood! You killed my master!"
Hermione barely had the time to dodge the blue light before standing up and disarming her, then Conjured chains that trapped her into the chair and Silenced her.
"Since you seem so keen on trying to kill me tonight, you will have your wand back when I will be in no mortal danger from you anymore," she said, keeping her voice as steady and cold as possible. It wasn't like she couldn't hear the whispers in the room.
"As unexpected and unpleasant this situation may be for all of us, it's a mission like any other for me and you as well." Hermione could feel every pair of eyes in the room on her, as she leaned forward, keeping her hands on the table. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm not sure the Dark Lord would be pleased to come back and learn we've been fighting like children and trying to murder each other the whole time, instead of figuring this out."
The deadly silence was only interrupted by Severus Snape. "As much as it pains me to admit this, Miss Granger is right," he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Now more than ever we need to stay united. The Dark Lord will be gone for who knows how long and if she is the chosen one, then so be it. None of us can do anything about it."
Hermione was sincerely impressed. That many not horrible things said about her without the usually high amount of disgust were something, coming from him. She crossed eyes with Draco over the room and he smirked his Slytherin smirk at her.
"For what's worth, you have my support, Miss Granger," Dolohov said and lightly bowed his head. A few more nods of approval made their way into the room, along with other reluctant ones.
Antonin Dolohov was one of the deadliest people in that room and, besides his loyalty to the Dark Lord being unquestionable, he was well-respected among the Death Eaters. Having him on her side, for whatever reason his mind had come up with wouldn't be a bad thing, but she just couldn't help asking herself why. He wasn't exactly the most tolerant towards Muggle-borns.
"While I appreciate your… dedication, Dolohov, I do not care for approval or assent from any of you. The Dark Lord gave me an order and I intend on acting upon it, whether you like it or not. Since none of you seem to protest or fight back at his orders, I expect you to do the same with mine, as I will be very happy to report whichever one of you refuses to collaborate as soon as he gets back. I am sure as hell not taking the blame for your actions."
It looked like her words had had the hoped effect on everyone sitting at the table, but perhaps Bellatrix, who was still glaring at her like she could set her on fire with just her eyes.
They won't respect you unless they fear you, they said, and, as much as they didn't fear her, they did fear the Dark Lord. There had to be a reason why he put her in charge instead of other more experienced ones, such as Bellatrix or Dolohov himself and, while she could understand the risk of putting Bellatrix in charge of anything, with her impulsivity, she could still name at least five better candidates than herself.
"I think Granger should take Aunt Bella's room," Draco said and she almost chocked on her roast beef. While doing her best to give the impression of a cold façade, Hermione turned towards him, sitting right next to her.
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were visibly surprised at their son's suggestion, while Aunt Bella looked simply outraged, other than insulted – for lack of better words.
"Excuse me?" Bellatrix argued.
"There's only a few months left of school and the Dark Lord will be back eventually. Considering her higher rank I don't see why she would have to stay in the South wing," he continued, ignoring her.
Lucius was starting to look suspicious, his gaze wandering between the two of them. Hermione could hear his mind trying to wrap itself around what was happening. Did he suspect anything?
Before any of the Malfoys could speak, Bellatrix intervened. "Well, where would I go, then? And why does the Mudblood get my room? There are plenty of others available."
"Language, Bellatrix. We're eating," Narcissa said and glared disapprovingly at her sister. Just as any other Pureblood elite lady, Narcissa Malfoy never gave up her manners and expected others to do the same, at least for meals or tea.
"In case you forgot, Aunt Bella, the Dark Lord did order me to help Granger with whatever she needed when we came back to school and there's only one guest room in my wing." She could see Lucius narrowing his eyes at them, probably thinking the same thing she was thinking. By the time she would most probably stay at the Manor permanently, she would no longer be in school and she wouldn't need Draco to help her in case the Gryffindors went rogue and decided to get revenge.
"Plus, you'll get to have Mother and Father's guest quarters, which I'm sure you'd like better than your current accommodation," he continued. Oh, Slytherin indeed. Hermione could see Bellatrix reconsidering the offer. Malfoy Manor was so outrageously big Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's wing held not only their quarters, but a small ward for guests as well.
"We would love to have you, Bellatrix," Narcissa spoke, "If that is fine with Hermione, of course."
And now the whole table was staring at her. Great.
"It's more than fine with me, Mrs. Malfoy. And, of course, thank you, Draco, for the hospitality," she managed to say.
"So just like that, she gets my room?" Bellatrix protested. The woman was almost literally throwing daggers at her. Hermione felt like she would chain her to the wall and throw knives at her just for fun.
"Bellatrix, don't be silly. It's just a room," Narcissa said, like she was talking to a child, "Plus, you'll get a whole ward for yourself. There's no need to be difficult, now, is there?"
Although Narcissa Malfoy's voice was always calm and far from aggressive, Hermione knew better than trusting she was a gentle, caring witch. She loved her family, of course, and she may bloody well be the best thing that had happened to Draco, with a sociopathic aunt and Lucius Malfoy as a father, but there was just no way in hell Narcissa wouldn't hex you into oblivion if needed. Hermione found she quite liked the woman, as she reminded her a lot of Andromeda at times – not that she would tell her.
Bellatrix Lestrange stood up, glared at every single one of them and left the room. Hermione sighed. The woman was something else entirely.
"Missy," Narcissa called and the elf appeared immediately, "Bellatrix will be using the guest quarters in our wing from now on, be so kind as to move her belongings there and Hermione's into Draco's guest room."
"Of course, Mistress!" Missy smiled and Disapparated. Another thing she liked about Narcissa was that she didn't treat her elves like scum, unlike her husband. She'd never liked Lucius.
"Miss Granger, you should consider asking Severus to open a Floo for you at Hogwarts, due to the circumstances of your new role," the woman said and took a sip of wine.
She had actually thought about that, opening a one-way only connection from the fireplace in her room. "I'm already taking it into consideration, Mrs. Malfoy, perhaps a one-way connection to Malfoy Manor would be safer, instead of an all-access one, so there's no unpleasant surprises."
"Of course, a Floo connection can be easily corrupted but the Heads' rooms have protection against anyone trying to get in without permission, haven't they? At least, that's how it was at my time."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, thinking. She definitely wasn't surprised Narcissa had been a Head Girl. "Yes, only the owner can get in, unless you have a key. But would that apply to the Floo as well?"
She and Draco had found quite the useful way to exploit the key loophole, though, and while the door itself might have some sort of charm that recognizes the owner's magic or something like that, the fireplaces in the rooms weren't supposed to be used as Floo, since they were obviously not given access to the school's Floo connection, so she doubted the same protections would apply.
Voicing her concerns, she noticed Lucius' eyes kept subtly drifting from her to Draco. The man was far too good at lying and manipulating not to have noticed something.
"Perhaps. The Floo connection might only let you enter the room if that were the case, but it might also let everyone in and that's not the best option for security purposes. I'm afraid my knowledge of the castle's magic isn't that deep but I'm sure Severus will have an answer."
Draco Malfoy couldn't believe he was being escorted to his room by his mother. His meddling mother.
"Your father and I noticed something different between you and Miss Granger," she said nonchalantly as they kept walking. Draco did his best not to as much as breath differently, while he waited for her to continue. She didn't.
"So?" He forced out.
"So I was hoping you could clarify the situation for us." Narcissa Malfoy stopped in front of his bedroom door and turned to him.
"There's nothing to clarify, Mother. We're on speaking terms and we haven't hexed each other in a while, isn't this enough?"
Draco strongly tried not to let his mother see how nervous he was to get out of that conversation.
"Are you… getting fond of her?" His mother asked and he could clearly see the mix of worry and distaste on her aristocratic features.
Of course she had to go there. Draco didn't even bother to answer, he knew she already had the answer.
"Well, is it mutual?" She pressed.
Draco sighed and waved his wand, casting a Muffliato. "I would be very impressed with her acting skills if that wasn't the case," he murmured and looked away. Why could he never get his way with his mother? He felt like he'd do a much better job at fooling Lucius – and that was saying a lot.
"Where did you learn that spell?" She questioned.
Draco merely shrugged, "Granger uses it all the time, I learn fast."
Narcissa Malfoy stood silent for a few seconds, looking at him.
"Are the two of you serious?"
"I don't know. It's new," he sighed. He was more worried about Hermione rather than himself, truth be told.
"Can we forge her lineage?" His mother eventually asked. Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes.
"No one is forging anyone's lineage. Why are you so okay with this anyway?" He asked. Something was up, or his intuitive skills were really fucked up.
Narcissa sighed and looked away. "At least she's magical. Whether I approved or not, you know I wouldn't get in your way to the point of disowning you or prohibiting you to see her. Your father, on the other hand, might have given you a hard time."
Draco narrowed his eyes. They were both Slytherins and he knew perfectly well Slytherins chose their words with care. "He might have given me a hard time? What's changed?"
"Her rank, Draco. She's much more important than she's ever been before and I'm afraid your father might have more of that cunning and ambitious than the average does."
So that's it? The key not to get her killed by his family was her now higher rank? He did see his father's point, though, having him involved with someone that powerful now the Dark Lord was gone surely was quite the advantage.
"I hope that cunning and ambitious whispers in his ear at night that I'll be having none of his scheming and plotting when it comes to her. Granger sure as hell won't have it. Merlin knows she's everything but stupid," he shook his head and looked away.
He could only wish good luck to anyone trying to get her doing what they wanted. She wouldn't even leave him alone for trying to get her to sleep and eat at regular intervals now that she was so "behind" on studying for N.E.W.T.s.
"Language, Draco. And I'm sure he will bring this up himself soon, darling. Just don't give him any more reason to be mad at the two of you, the cunning and ambitious only holds him back for so long." His mother softly smiled at him, almost apologetic, and left.
Draco stood there for a few minutes, trying to process what had just happened, then eventually opened Hermione's new bedroom door and stepped inside, before realizing it was empty. Had she not moved in yet? Her stuff was there, so she wasn't in her old room anymore, but where was she? With that thought in mind he did the most reasonable thing anyone who knew Hermione would do: he went to the library.
Hermione was in hiding. Sort of. Let's just say she was using her current location to both hide and research, but mostly research. The fact that Malfoy Manor's library was – just like anything else there – outrageously big and spooky and mostly unused at night was just a plus.
She was trying to find something – anything – about Horcruxes that could explain the Dark Lord's recent disappearance.
"Miss Granger," someone called behind her and Hermione almost bumped into the 10-feet-tall bookshelf she was glued to, trying to read the names on the back of the old books and parchments. "It's quite late."
She turned around and put a hand on her forehead, trying to get her breathing to slow down. "It's never too late and never too early to read, Dolohov."
"And what are you reading tonight, Miss Granger? That's a very dark section you're consulting," he asked, smirking.
"It is. Not my cup of tea, I'll admit, but you should know what you're fighting nonetheless," she said and turned back to the shelves, pulling out a dusty book that looked like it hadn't been touched in years.
She took the book back to the table she had occupied and put it on top of the pile that was already forming, leaning on the wood.
"Planning on fighting the Dark Lord?" He smirked again and crossed his arms.
Hermione studied him for a few seconds. He was tall, marginally handsome and completely unreadable, unless he let you – and even then, she wouldn't trust it. Plus, he was being way too nice for anyone with a bit of sense not to think something was up.
She smirked and crossed her arms back. "Anything I can help you with, Dolohov?"
"Shouldn't that be my line?"
Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at him.
"I do know a thing or two about Horcruxes. Do you think that's why he left?" He casually sat on an armchair nearby.
"One of the reasons why, perhaps. Cutting out plausible explanations just because isn't really my thing," she sighed and sat on the table, taking the book she had already started reading. Hermione felt terribly self-conscious with his gaze pointed on her, more so since she hadn't been able to change and was still wearing her uniform. Her bloody short uniform, that is.
"I don't think the owner of a Horcrux is supposed to feel when one, or all of them, are gone, though."
"And I found nothing that suggests otherwise. I think he visited some of his hiding places and found one, or more, were gone." Hermione was terribly frustrated at the matter.
"And I imagine you're the responsible for a couple of them yourself?" He said and it sounded more like a statement, rather than a question.
Hermione raised her gaze and pointed it on him, then sighed and closed the book that was proving itself to be more and more useless on the matter. "I've never destroyed one myself but I did play a part in it."
"How many are there left?"
"Three, that I know of. He might have made some more or they might have destroyed more. Whatever the case, it doesn't look like I will be getting any answers tonight." She waved at two more books to go back to their place, then opened another one, reading through the table of contents.
"What are you looking for?" He asked and leaned forward.
"Something that explains the effects of the destroyed Horcruxes on their owner. He sure as hell didn't look unaffected. And if so, how do you stop it?" Hermione was growing more frustrated as she saw there was nothing hinting at what she had just said in the table of contents of the book.
"Well, Nagini is nowhere to be found, so he must have taken her with him. Perhaps he will recover like last time," he murmured absently and Hermione couldn't but help asking herself what he was thinking about.
"Why are you not being obnoxious to me?" She asked instead.
"What do you mean?" He studied her curiously.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know perfectly well what I mean."
Antonin Dolohov smirked and stood up, walking towards her. "I don't kiss and tell."
"Who have you kissed?" She asked, amused. Always trust a Slytherin to make cryptic remarks like that and then be awfully proud about it.
He merely shrugged and then eyed the dusty books behind her. "You won't find anything there. Not what you're looking for, anyway."
Hermione was about to ask him how he could possibly know, unless he'd read every single book in there, but the sound of a door closing distracted her, and then Draco was there, his eyes drifting suspiciously between her and Dolohov.
"Figured you'd be here," he said.
Dolohov stared at him for a few seconds, then smirked, nodded his head goodbye and left.
"Hi," she smiled and hopped off the desk, taking the hand he was offering her.
"Hi," he smiled back and drew her in for a kiss she was glad to deepen. "It's pretty late, what are you working on?"
"Just some research about horcruxes but it's not going very well," she sighed and sat back on the mahogany table, discarding yet another book.
"Do you really think that's it?" He asked and opened a small and old-looking book.
"I don't know. Could be," Hermione sighed. Draco narrowed his brow at her uncertain voice, as asking her what was wrong. "I just hate not knowing."
"Let's go to bed, then. You can keep working on it back at school, I'll have the elves bring you the books you need." Draco took her hands and pulled her back on her feet but she looked back at the tomes, worried.
"I'll make it quick, I promise. Just go to sleep, I'll be back in no time."
Draco Malfoy snorted, "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. How come you're so brilliant yet you don't have any common sense when it comes to studying?"
"That's not true!" She protested.
He looked at her the way you would look at a five-year-old. "Granger, you forget to eat. Or sleep. You're going to work yourself out. Again."
"That was once." She murmured and looked away.
"That was more times than I care to count. I've been slipping you Sleeping Draughts for weeks, now," he sighed and gave her a disapproving look.
"Just one more hour," Hermione almost whined. She knew pretty well how unreasonable she could be when it came to studying, but it was just stronger than her.
"I can have the elves ban you from entering the library, you know."
"You wouldn't," she gaped, offended.
"It's almost midnight and we have school tomorrow. Watch me." Draco looked – and sounded – dead serious.
Hermione quickly calculated her chances of talking him into letting her stay one more hour to sort out through the possibly useful books and the ones she could safely dismiss and found they were pretty low. Plus, she didn't trust Dolohov. He may have said she wouldn't find anything just for her to stop looking. Maybe he knew something he didn't want her to know. Hermione just couldn't risk it.
"Fine," she growled and rolled her eyes, annoyed.
He grinned and stroked her bare tights. "I'll admit, Daphne's work truly is… remarkable."
Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help the amusement showing on her face. "Actually, I need to owl her," she remembered.
"What for? She will only be getting it at breakfast and you're going to be there already."
"I need to talk to Snape about the Floo network, I don't think I'll make it to breakfast," she confessed.
"Hermione," he warned, his hands still on her.
"It's no big deal, really. I'll stop by the kitchens on my way to class, promise," she assured, praying it would be enough for him to stop worrying that much. She was fine. One skipped meal wouldn't kill her.
He sighed and reached into his back pocket, then handed her an envelope. "Looks like Daph's always one step ahead of all of us anyway."
"She wrote, 'He's been dealt with.' What's that supposed to mean?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
"That she either placed a nice hex on his sheets that will strangle him in his sleep, or she handled it in a more refined and oh-so-Slytherin manner. Either way, the bastard's in for one hell of a ride." Draco scowled and sighed.
With that, she handed him back the parchment, since she had no pockets, and followed him outside.
None of them had noticed Dolohov hadn't left, but merely Disillusioned himself.