Chapter 8- Parchment, Chairs, and Prisoners of Fate

Hermione set down her coffee as Draco refolded the Prophet.  He took a sip from his cup and looked over at her.  They had eaten breakfast in silence after the DADA confusions.  Hermione had gotten a chance to look at the dining room, which was decorated surprisingly like the second room of the Manor she had ever seen.  The dark wood was everywhere: the chairs; the table; and the paneling. 

"Well, Granger, let's get started, shall we?" Draco said in his usual drawling voice.  He smirked, "You do want to earn your wages, don't you?"

"Of course!" Hermione replied scathingly.  I want to earn my money, Malfoy… Not everyone is born to a rich family… I bet you never worked a day in your entire life… Except to make my friends suffer… You worked hard at that, didn't you?

"Good.  Alright, you already know the basics of what you are going to be doing. Riding this house of any and all dark objects.  This will include machines, books, and other objects," Draco told her, watching her expression closely.

Hermione made sure to keep her face blank.  Draco's power of observation was a little frightening sometimes.  He had the ability to know exactly what people were thinking and feeling.  She nodded, however, to show her understanding.

"Here is the contract.  It is a normal magical contract of silence.  Though," Draco leered, "you will find it to be quite ironclad.  There are no loopholes."

Why would I need a loophole… I should have someone look at the contract for me… I know next to nothing about wizarding contracts… Percy maybe…

"Of course not," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You have until tomorrow to return the contract to me signed.  Today I will show you around the house, a chance for you get acquainted with the Manor.  I expect you are impressed with the grandeur of it?" he raised his eyebrows.

Gag me with a wand… "It is a very impressive home," she replied automatically.  It was the answer she gave to everyone, no matter how ugly the house.  In this case, however, she was telling the truth; it was a lovely home.  It was just too cold for her taste.

"I had the Manor redecorated after the… after we left school," he told her, slightly unsure of what he had almost told Hermione.  Hermione understood that he meant after his parents died.

Fortunately, the door behind Hermione opened at that moment, allowing Draco and Hermione's conversation to pause temporarily.  It was Raldy.

"Miss Granger, an owl arrived for you," she squeaked, holding out a letter.

Hermione took the parchment from Raldy, thanked her, and turned back to Draco.  Draco nodded to her, indicating that he would not be offended if she opened the letter at the table. 

Hermione unrolled the letter and quickly read it.  Oh no… What a great surprise… Not… Why do things like this always happen to me… Of all times to get Reddington's disease… Now?

Draco was watching her face closely.  His narrow grey eyes bore into her brown ones.  "What is it?" he questioned.

"My supervisor… She's come down with Reddington's.  She won't be back at work until," Hermione checked the parchment, "three weeks from today actually."

Draco pressed on, "What is so bad about that?  You can have some time to yourself at work.  Halmaturus is a bitch on a broomstick."

"Well, she, uh, forbid me to go to work until she gets back," Hermione said in a rush.  Then she frowned, "How do you know Halmaturus?"

"I don't.  Connections are everything, Granger," Malfoy said coldly. 

That's sad if he thinks connections are everything… Family is everything… Friends are everything… Love is everything… I suppose Malfoy never had any of those things… Not really anyway…Of course I've never been in love either… At least I know my friends and family love me…

"Well then, you will be staying for three weeks?" Draco asked, interrupting Hermione's thoughts.

"I guess so," Hermione looked down at her plate, frown deepening.  No matter how bad she felt for Malfoy, three weeks with him would be a long time.  But… Another week means a hundred and twenty more galleons… Yes… That seems worth it… "Yes.  I will be staying for three weeks."

Draco was still staring at her.  He held out the contract to Hermione; she had forgotten all about the piece of parchment with the excitement of the letter.  "Here, I expect you'll want someone to look at it."

Hermione nodded briefly. 

"Very well," Draco said.  He took out his wand and muttered a few words.  He pointed his wand at the door through which Raldy had disappeared and a green eagle escaped from the tip.  The wispy bird flew straight through the door, vanishing from sight.

"To get a house elf?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes."

A moment later Raldy scurried back into the room.  She was looking down at the ground, but when she reached Draco seat, she looked up.  "Yes, Master?"

"Raldy, Miss Granger would like to send a letter.  Go get parchment and a quill," he spoke harshly.

Hermione glanced over at him in surprise.  He had always treated the house elves with distain, but not disrespect.  Raldy, however, did not seem to notice anything.  "Of course, Master."  She scampered out of the room.

"Alright, Granger.  Meet me in the den when you are finished," Malfoy commanded.  He took a last drink of his coffee, stood up, and strode confidently out of the room.

"That," Hermione's name for Malfoy would have made even Ron proud, "thinking he can boss me around like I am some lowly person.  How dare he!"

"Miss?"

Hermione jumped and looked around wildly.  Raldy was standing next to her chair, holding out a piece of very fine parchment and an eagle quill of the brightest blue imaginable. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, Raldy.  You scared me!  Thank you for the quill and parchment," she said taking the items from the elf's outstretched hand.  "You can just wait here.  It won't take but a moment."

Raldy stepped back so as not to see what Hermione was writing.  At least the house elves have manners around here…

Hermione scribbled a quick note to Percy, asking him to look at the contract and send it back by return owl.  She signed her name, adding a small postscript to say hello to the family.  She turned to Raldy and handed her the letter and the contract, on which she had written Percy's name.  "Thank you, Raldy."

"It is no problem, Miss.  Raldy is hoping that Miss knows she can come to Raldy whenever she needs anything," Raldy bowed.

"Sure," Hermione smiled, feeling better to know that at least one person in the house liked her.  That could just be because she is a house elf… House elves like everyone… Well almost everyone… Dobby hated the Malfoys… Dobby has always been sort of an odd character though…

Hermione pushed her chair back and stood up from the table.  She straightened her clothes and exited the dining room, making her way to den.

*   *   *   *   *

Draco had his back to Hermione when she slipped in the open door.  She took a brief second to stare at Draco's body.  From the back, he was actually quite attractive.  He wore a crisp blue button-up shirt, black pants, and black shoes.  Hermione could see his masculine waist, his broad shoulders, his bare neck… Take a mental cold shower, Mione… You are getting NONE of that… Absolutely none of him… Don't even think about it… Damn, did you see his shoulders!

Hermione swallowed quite audibly.  Draco turned around, grinning slightly.  "Like what you see?"

"Yes," Hermione choked out, "this really is a lovely room."

"I wasn't talking about the room."

Hermione's eyes popped open.  Did he mean what she thought he meant?  She decided to play it cool.  "Well, whatever you were talking about, I don't know.  But this room is quite nice…"

Draco smirked, "Right.  I'll let that slip for right now.  We have things to do."

Hermione gave herself a mental shake.  With Malfoy around there was no room for games or inattention.  He would nail her the moment she wasn't attentive. 

"I brought you over here to go over the basics of the Dark Materials here.  You know as well that I do that they are extremely dangerous.  Since I pride myself on knowing a touch," Malfoy exaggerated the word, "more about the Dark Arts that you do."

Hermione snorted; she would bet her three weeks wages that Malfoy had practiced the arts himself.

"But since you are a witch with a fair amount of common sense, I don't think that it will be too big of a problem.  I will be working with you, of course.  For your safety and the safety of the Manor.  I can not afford to have explosions going off or being sued for your carelessness," Malfoy said in an arrogant manner. 

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten under her breath.  When she opened her eyes, Malfoy was staring at her strangely.  "Oh, do go on," Hermione requested.

"Now most of the objects have been in my family for centuries.  I expect you have heard of some of them, but some are quite rare.  And I might add some are quite valuable.  Now I know that you will refuse to take these objects to a Borgin and Burkes, but you are fortunate that I am wealthy and will agree to that request.  You are to dispose of these objects in any way possible," Malfoy lectured, still standing.

Hermione took this small break as a chance to sit down.  She wandered over to a chair in the corner facing Malfoy.  She sank down into the deep cushions and immediately fell asleep.

"Granger!"

Someone was slapping her.

"Granger, wake up!"

Hermione shifted slightly.

"Granger, you have to get out of that chair!  NOW!"

Hermione opened her eyes.  Malfoy was tugging on her arm. 

"Get out of the damn chair right now!"

Hermione realized with a quake of fear that the cushions were swallowing her.  She struggled to escape from the clutches of the chair but succeeded in standing up.  She was breathing quite heavily.  "What the hell was that?" she asked, rounding on Malfoy.  He had let her sit down in the chair.  What the hell had he been thinking?

"The Chair of Death.  You've found your first dark object," he replied, some of the pale color returning to his absolutely white face.  He smirked.  "Congratulation."

"Congratulations?  What do you mean 'Congratulations'?  That damn chair could have killed me!  Why the hell did you let me sit on it?" she raged, advancing on him.  It wasn't the first time her life had been in danger, but it was the first time that she had willing allowed death to come to her door.  All because she was tired of standing.  She mentally slapped herself.  Hermione, you have got to pay more attention to things… This is exactly the type of dark object that you should have been careful of… Ordinary objects enchanted to be Dark ones… Get with it…

"I was getting a book from the shelf and when I turned around you were halfway swallowed by the chair," Malfoy motioned to the book that was on the ground, "I dropped the book and came to wake you up.  The only way to escape from the Chair of Death is for the one being swallowed to push themselves away.  Since most of the time the person is asleep, the Chair gets to swallow them."

"And why do you have the Chair in you office?" Hermione screamed.

"Because, Granger, there have been more dangerous people than you sitting in this den," he said quietly.

For a brief moment, Hermione wondered what it was like to be Draco Malfoy.  Obviously he didn't feel safe in his own home.  He had never found love with his family or his friends. He's a prisoner of his own fate…

"Granger, do you want to stop here for today?" Malfoy asked.  He was eying her with a strange look on his face.  It appeared to be a mix of hatred, confusions, and compassion.  Compassion?   Come off if, Hermione… Malfoy doesn't have an ounce of compassion anywhere in his body… He's got a heart of iron…

"No," Hermione said defiantly.  "Keep going." 

This time she remained standing as Malfoy continued, "As I was saying, you can use any means to rid the Manor of these Dark Objects.  Charms, spells, anything.  I might warn you against using transfiguration, as Dark Objects react very powerfully when being changed into something else."

Hermione nodded; they had learned that in DADA in their seventh year.  "What are some objects that I can expect?" she questioned.

"Lots of things.  Books, poisons, machines, furniture, jewelry, some unpleasant human items," he said with a trace of a smile on his aristocratic face. 

Hermione blanched.  By 'unpleasant human items' he doesn't mean human body parts… Does he?

Draco caught the look on her face and let out a laugh.  "Tell you what, Granger, I'll take the human items, you can take everything else.  Deal?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes.  She didn't want to show Malfoy her weakness, but the thought of never seeing another shrunken head forced her to say, "Yes."

"Alright.  Now, these Dark Objects are very dangerous.  You saw yourself in the Chair.  That is why I will be working with you.  As much for my protection as your own.  I expect you already know this though."

"Malfoy, I know.   I'm not stupid," she sighed.  I'm stupid enough to sit in a chair that wanted to swallow me though… That has to count for something…

"That, Granger, is precisely why I hired you.  Plus I wanted to give you a chance to see how devilishly handsome I am.  Now," he added before Hermione could comment on the last statement, "let us go and take a tour of the Manor.  You've only seen about an eight of it."

*   *   *   *   *

Hermione flopped down on her bed, exhausted.  Being around Malfoy required a lot more energy than she had anticipated.  Every moment she had to bite her tongue to keep from yelling at him.

Of course, the rest of the Manor was beautiful.  As Hermione had walked with Draco from room to room, she could tell which rooms he had redecorated and which had been decorated by his mother.  Mrs. Malfoy favored deep purples and blacks, while Draco liked greens and silvers.  Hermione also noticed that the rooms Mrs. Malfoy designed tended to have hard furniture and frightening pictures on the walls.  Draco decorated with more comfortable chairs and sofas and with art that Hermione now recognized as Dada art.

My favorite room still has to be this one… I love the colors… It's by far the warmest room in the entire Manor… I wonder why Draco chose this room for me? 

Hermione glanced over at the bookshelves in the room.  She hadn't gotten a chance to look at any of the books yet as she had been so busy with other things.  She slowly got off the bed and walked over to the shelves.  Tracing her finger along the book titles, she grabbed a bright red book, sat down on the bed, and opened the book.

Immediately, she started laughing.  It was a book on all types of art.  As luck would have it, the page that she had opened to was devoted to comic books.  And not only any comic books, but the Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle.  Hermione laughed for a long time.  If only Ron could see that Draco had a book about his favorite childhood comic.  I bet he still reads Martin Miggs… In the Sunday post… I should ask him… I bet he'd love to be reminded of his childhood reading choices…

Hermione continued to flip through the art book.  Almost at once, she found the page devoted to the Dada artistic movement.  She read the section.  Although she could see the beauty in the Dada art, it was definitely not her taste.  Hermione preferred the impressionists, particularly Claude Monet and Mary Cassat.  On the next page of the book was a print of her favorite Monet painting, Wheat Stacks (End of Summer). 

She gazed at the painting, admiring the beauty of such an ordinary thing.  She saw hay stacks every time she went into the country to visit her family.  However, she never saw them the way that Monet did.  The reds, browns, and whites were invisible to her eye unaided.  With the help of someone else, she was able to see the exquisiteness of the hay stacks.

Is Malfoy the same way?  Is he a haystack that I just need help to see?  Should I try to look at the colors that make up his soul instead of the entire picture?  Can Malfoy really be compared to art?  Maybe it's just the tiredness talking in me… But maybe not… I don't know, Malfoy did some terrible things… That is for sure… But I guess I should try to see the beauty in an ordinary thing… Monet can do it after all…

Hermione closed the book and sat up on the bed.  A sudden burst of energy hit her, maybe it was the coffee she had just consumed.  She walked back over to the bookshelves and put the art book back.  There was no doubt in her mind that she would look at the book again before she left the Manor.  It wasn't often that she was able to see her favorite painting.  It was semi-unknown, considering the celebrity of his other prints.

Hermione walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, critical of every aspect.  She wasn't gorgeous, that was for sure.   Her hair was too wild, her nose too thin, and her legs too short.  But she wasn't unattractive either.  When she took the time to straighten her hair, the stunning dark brown and auburn highlights stood out.  Her tiny features balanced out her small nose.  Her legs were short, there was no denying it.  But robes hid them most of the time anyway.  Ginny had told her that to make her legs look long, she had to wear long pants. 

Hermione stood in the mirror for a while longer, just looking at herself.  Finally, she shook her head and walked back into the bedroom, desperate for company.  Deciding on the inevitable, Hermione poked her head out the door, said, "Raldy?" and walked back into the room.

Not more than a minute later, Raldy opened the door and entered Hermione's room.  "Can Raldy help you, Miss?" the elf squeaked.

"Oh well, I was just wondering how you are, Raldy," Hermione lied.  She hadn't taken the time to think of an excuse to talk to the house elf so she acted on her instinct.

"Raldy is just fine, Miss.  Thank you for asking.  Would Miss like a beverage?  Hot chocolate or tea, perhaps?  The house elves in the kitchens would be delighted to prepare anything for you," Raldy informed Hermione.

"How about an ox, I'm feeling peckish," Hermione said under her breath.  She still remembered when Fred, or George she couldn't remember, had told her how to get into the Hogwarts kitchens.

"Sorry, Miss?" Raldy asked, looking up at Hermione.

"Tea would be wonderful, Raldy.  Thank you," Hermione said.  She watched Raldy scurry out of the bedroom.  As great as house elves were, they were no replacement for humans.  They wanted to serve too much.

And since Malfoy was the only other human in the house, Hermione knew there was no way she would see any other human that night.

Well, this sure is fun… Sitting on the bed, swinging my feet… Yep, really fun… I'm just having the time of my life here… Sounds like a Muggle postcard: Having loads of fun, wish you were here (not!)… I guess I could go into Malfoy's den and start to look at the books over there…

Hermione got off the bed and opened the door.  She paused for a moment, wondering whether she should wait until Raldy brought back the tea.  Deciding that Raldy would leave the tea on her desk, Hermione set off in the direction of the den.

She walked quickly and quietly, not wanting anyone to hear her.  Now that she was in her "work" state of mind, she didn't want to be interrupted.  She hurried along the last corridor that led her to the den.  On one of the doors to her right, the Malfoy dragon breathed a huge cloud of wood-fire up.  Hermione paused briefly to look at the crest, something that she hadn't done.

It was, as she had thought, a dragon.  Upon closer inspection, Hermione realized that it was a Norwegian Ridgeback.  She recognized the black scales, bronze horns, and black ridges lining the dragons back.  Seeing the dragon reminded her of Hagrid, which brought a warm feeling of comfort to her stomach.  Still looking at the crest, Hermione noticed a sword behind the dragon.  She leaned towards the door, trying to read the print on the sword.  It looked as though the sword was inscripted with a Latin phrase.  She had never been very good at translations; she made a mental note to copy down the words later and find a book on the subject.  Crossed with the sword was a wand.  From the tip of the wand was a sort of mist.  It looked as though the artist that crafted the crest tried to create the look of a charm in the wood.  To Hermione's eyes, it just looked like an odd-shaped cloud.  She giggled, wondering what a long line of Malfoys would think knowing that Hermione thought their crest was a cloud.

Continuing on her way, Hermione finally made it to the door that opened into the study.  She sighed, pushed the door open, and almost gasped at the unpleasant scene laid before her eyes.

*   *   *   *   *

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Author's Notes:

A cliffhanger, sorry.  I am also sorry to inform you that I am going on a trip to Australia and New Zealand for the next three weeks.  I was going to have a friend post for me, but I haven't even started chapter 9, and I need to sleep tonight.  So, I'm sorry, but the next chapter won't be up until a few days after I get back.  I leave tomorrow (July 2) and return three weeks from then (July 23).  You can expect another chapter by the end of the week of the 23rd.  Please accept my apologies, I didn't mean for it to work out this way.

Now, since I am going to be gone for such a long time, I expect lots of reviews in my mailbox when I get home!  Right?!?!  Let me also do a bit of shameless plugging for my other fan fiction stories.  I have two other mini-stories that, if you support other ships, you would like.  They are both romantic comedy stories like this.  I must warn you though, that one of them is R/H.  I know that a lot of people don't like that ship, but the storyline fit the personality of Ron better than Draco.  So please read those, they are cute stories that don't take long to read!  BTW, I need a beta-reader.  Anyone interested?

Happy summer everyone, enjoy it while you can!

-Molly