Hermione's first week back at Malfoy Manor was an uneventful one.
She filled pages of her journal, describing how the Manor had not changed
since she had last been here and that the same cold chill reverberated
through the house at all times.
Lucius' reaction to her return wasn't quite as she expected. She came down for breakfast early on her fourth morning back and Lucius had simply gazed in her direction before departing out the door. His silence struck her as odd, but so did the entire situation. Three years ago, no one would have ever suspected that one day Hermione Granger would be spending the summer at Draco Malfoy's house, not by force, but by her own will. Sometimes, even her mind skipped reality and she would wake up in the early hours of the morning, frightened that she had been kidnapped.
She was sitting outside on her usual bench, under a stream of trees, when Draco presented her with a letter. "It just came," he said, as if justifying that he hadn't already opened it.
She glanced at the tidy scrawl on the front of it and saw that it was from her mother. "Thanks," she said, tucking it away in the book she was reading. Draco looked mystified but chose not to acknowledge it.
"Reading on your summer vacation?" he asked, shaking his head slowly, a grin spreading across his face. "You are definitely no fun."
"I am so!" Hermione looked up, offended that he would make such an accusation. "I just have to keep up on my Charms studies so I don't fail as an assistant next year."
"You can fail being an assistant?"
"You know what I mean, Draco."
The grin spread even wider into a gaping smile. "I still say that you're no fun," he declared, sizing her up with his eyes. It was as if he was challenging her to argue or prove otherwise.
Too intelligent to fall for his taunts, she simply shook her head and continued to read her book. Draco sat beside her in silence for several moments before she noticed his body stiffen. His head spun around and when Hermione looked in his direction, she saw Narcissa bounding across the lawn, a brilliant smile on her face.
"Bella, Rodolphus! Just the two people I was looking for!" Her face looked flushed with excitement and Hermione took note that she was now calling Draco 'Rodolphus' who was Bella's husband. He, too, had been killed in the attack that left his wife dead.
"I wanted to know about the party," Narcissa said, breathlessly, settling herself between Draco and Hermione. "I know you two want a live music group, and that it's your wedding reception, but I really think recorded music would be much better."
Hermione looked at Draco, who appeared as confused as she felt. "Um, right," he muttered slowly. "Mum, do you think maybe you should lie down?"
"I knew you'd agree!" Narcissa replied happily, jumping to her feet. "Cocktails for everyone!" she cheered and charged off back towards the mansion. Hermione's eyes followed her until she drifted out of sight.
"What does your Dad think of her like that?" she asked Draco when she could no longer watch Narcissa.
"He isn't really concerned," Draco said and Hermione detected a note of bitterness in his voice. "He thinks she's no harm to herself or anyone else."
Hermione was at a loss for words. She felt horrible that the woman was plagued into internal darkness and chaos because her husband was so demanding. That should warn you to always think for yourself, she thought to herself.
Draco stood up abruptly. "I have to go," he said and walked away before Hermione could have a chance to respond. She knew his mother's condition embarrassed him, but it was most definitely not his fault. If anything, it was Lucius' fault and he should pay. But that was not up to Hermione. That was up to the afterlife to decide his fate.
She yawned and stretched out on the long bench and something fluttered to the ground. Reaching over carefully, her hand came across the letter from her mother. She held it in her hand, wondering whether or not it was worth reading. She finally decided to scan it quickly, in case anything serious had happened.
"Dear Hermione," she read aloud to herself. "I hope that everything is suiting you well back at Malfoy Manor. Maybe now you will be able to make the choice you should have made at the end of last summer. The gods sometimes give you a second chance for a reason, Hermione, and this one was graced upon you so that you could choose the right path for yourself."
Hermione rolled her eyes. If the entire letter was going to be about preaching and such, she didn't want to read it. Her eyes scanned down the letter quickly, ignoring the admonishing pressures that her mother was placing on her, before coming to rest on a rather interesting paragraph.
"Your father and I will be taking a short vacation this summer to Australia. In other words, you can say we're trying to save our marriage. Your father is adamant that I stay out of your personal business and that whom you marry is none of my business. He doesn't understand that you are still a little girl and need assistance with every decision that you make."
Hermione fumed at this last sentence. Reading on, her mother bid her well wishes and greetings from her father. "We're leaving at the end of this week," she wrote. "I'll write you from Australia."
Was everyone going to Australia this summer? How come no one was inviting her? She felt a little put out but excited nonetheless. Her parents wouldn't bug her for quite some time. There was no way that they would travel all that way only to stay for a few days.
Not if they're Apparating, said the little voice inside her head and her reality self was given a jolt. Sometimes she forgot that her parents were not Muggles and could Apparate and Disapparate. She curled the letter into a paper ball and stuffed it back into the envelope, feeling rage inhabit her body and mind. Who was her mother to think that she was still a child? She was almost nineteen, for crying out loud. Some girls her age were already married with three children! And if her mother assumed that she was such an invalid little girl, then why did she set her up to be married?
Standing up furiously, Hermione stormed into the Manor, via the back door. Narcissa looked up as she passed her in the hallway, but said nothing, still lacking a grounded look in her eyes. Hermione tread up to her bedroom where she slammed the door so hard, the pictures of her, Harry and Ron fell off the walls, all complaining and rubbing their foreheads.
She sat on her bed in a huff, folding her arms across her chest. It was no use pouting, she knew, because no one was there to see, but it made her feel better, thinking there was something she could do about her mother's attitude.
A soft knock emitted from the other side of the door. "Hermione? Are you okay?"
"You can come in," she sulked and Draco opened the door and entered. "I'm not a baby."
Draco's usually clear eyes clouded up. "I know," he said slowly in the same tone he often used with his mother. "I never said you were. Here, have a box of Bertie Bott's." He thrust the box her way and she shook her head. He retreated his arm looking more confused than ever.
"I wish my mother was like yours," she spat out before she could stop herself. Draco looked hurt for a split second, but the look soon vanished.
"Why?"
"Oh, I didn't actually mean that!" she cried, feeling a sudden bout of homesickness sweep over her. "My mother keeps insisting that I'm a child still and that I need someone to look after me!"
"That's funny," Draco said, digging into his box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "My mother can't even look after herself, let alone tell me that I'm incompetent." He smiled graciously at her and held out the box. "Sure you don't want some?"
She shook her head again, but smiled. "No, thanks. You want to read the letter she sent me?" She moved over so that he could sit beside her on the foot of the bed. He sat down and took the letter in his hand. Unscrambling the paper, he took a few moments of silence to read the entire thing. Hermione watched his eyebrows rise as he neared the end of the letter.
"See?" she asked as he handed her back the letter. She rolled it up again and threw it behind her towards her nightstand. "She thinks I'm a child still!"
"So that's why she forced you to marry," Draco said slowly, trying to understand the situation himself.
"Yeah. Makes total sense, doesn't it?" Hermione muttered miserably, grabbing a handful of candy out of the box in Draco's hand. "I mean, is she slow or just mental?"
Draco's eyes flinched, but he said nothing. Hermione felt instantly sorry for choosing the terms that she used, but she didn't apologize this time. Instead she just shrugged and looked away.
"Want to come job hunting with me tomorrow?" Draco asked. "I need a job for in September; just something so I can have a bit of money of my own."
Hermione nodded. "Sure. I should get a summer job, but there's not much point now." She looked at the calendar she had on the wall that bore a grinning picture of Gilderoy Lockhart, one of Hermione's subtle heroes. "It's almost the second week of July."
"Why did you like him so much?" Draco asked, looking at the calendar with a glare of disgust. "He was so rotten; I hated him."
"He was fun," Hermione answered quickly. She wasn't sure exactly why Lockhart had stuck out in her mind, but she was sure that his good looks played a very small part.
"I can be fun, too," Draco said, leaning close to her. Hermione leaned back, ready to accept his kiss but the door burst open and there stood Narcissa, looking fit to be tied.
"Bellatrix! Lucius! What are you doing?" she shrieked. "I thought I would find you up here! I can't believe you, Bellatrix! My own sister! With my very own husband! The two of you make me sick."
Hermione turned to Draco as his mother approached them. His face was pale and he looked frightened. "Mum, it's me, Draco," he said quietly, standing up to face her. Hermione was impressed to see that his height matched her own and he towered over her by a few inches.
"You slime," she shot at him, raising her hands. "If I had my wand with me," but she broke off in mid sentence. She turned to Hermione and seethed. "I would have expected better from you, Bella," she said in a faraway singsong voice. "Much better. After all, you always said that you never had eyes for Lucius, yet here you are, alone in your bedroom, half undressed. How do you explain yourself this time?"
Hermione was speechless. She kept opening and closing her mouth, not sure what to say. Draco jumped in with, "Mum, that's Hermione, not Bellatrix." He motioned for Hermione to leave the room while he restrained his mother. "She's got to go now, Mum, and I think you had better lie down."
Hermione fled the room, escaping to the safety of the kitchen. She sat at the table, with her head buried in her arms. She felt like crying for the poor woman, but no tears came to her eyes. How sad it was for Draco to live in a house like this. They were well off, yes, but emotionally unstable, the whole lot of them. Somehow, Hermione suspected that Bellatrix Black's death had quite an effect on her sister. Hermione could clearly remember the day that Harry and Bellatrix duelled in the streets of Hogsmeade, late at night. Lucius Malfoy was battling with Remus Lupin and Hermione and Ron were shooting hexes and curses at every moving thing they didn't recognize.
"This is for Sirius!" Harry cried and a burst of green light shot from his wand. Bellatrix's face contorted as she dropped lifelessly to the ground. Of course, Lucius and the others had abandoned their battles to check the commotion. Bellatrix's lifeless body was carted out of the village on the shoulders of her fellow Death Eaters. "That was for Sirius," Harry said quietly as Hermione and Ron comforted him.
The front door banged open and Lucius Malfoy burst into the kitchen, a flurry of black robes and white blond hair. He glared at Hermione before asking coldly, "Where's my family?"
"Upstairs," Hermione replied, just as bitterly. "Your wife isn't feeling too well at the moment. Maybe you should take her to the doctor's. Unless, of course, you have a fake doctor that you're willing to take her to." Her eyes glinted at him as his unrelenting hateful glare penetrated her very soul.
"Very well," he said through tight lips. "Where are they?"
"I told you, upstairs," Hermione repeated, exasperated. How slow was this man? "Draco was going to put Narcissa to bed."
"Under this roof, you will call her Mrs. Malfoy," he spat at her.
Hermione remained defiant. "I will call her whatever I please," she said sternly. "Besides, it's an insult to call her Mrs. Malfoy; it makes it seem like you own her."
Lucius grinned and leaned towards her so that his face was inches from hers. "I'm letting you stay here for the summer," he said, "but I can kick you out at any time."
"If you do that, I might not make the right decision at the end of the summer," she retorted and he moved his face away quickly, shock filling his furious eyes.
"What?"
"Kick me out and I won't have the chance to make my decision."
"What decision?"
She smirked. "I guess you'll have to wait until the end of the summer to see."
She enjoyed seeing the agony on his face and expected a nasty comeback, but he remained quiet. Instead, he traipsed up the staircase, yelling, "Narcissa! Are you okay?"
Hermione said in shock for a few moments. It was as if someone else had spoken those words that she was sure had come from her mouth. Never in a million years did she ever think that little meek Hermione Granger would have the nerve to stand up that fiercely to Lucius Malfoy. It felt good to know that she had a strong backbone, nestled somewhere in the goodness of her soul.
Lucius' reaction to her return wasn't quite as she expected. She came down for breakfast early on her fourth morning back and Lucius had simply gazed in her direction before departing out the door. His silence struck her as odd, but so did the entire situation. Three years ago, no one would have ever suspected that one day Hermione Granger would be spending the summer at Draco Malfoy's house, not by force, but by her own will. Sometimes, even her mind skipped reality and she would wake up in the early hours of the morning, frightened that she had been kidnapped.
She was sitting outside on her usual bench, under a stream of trees, when Draco presented her with a letter. "It just came," he said, as if justifying that he hadn't already opened it.
She glanced at the tidy scrawl on the front of it and saw that it was from her mother. "Thanks," she said, tucking it away in the book she was reading. Draco looked mystified but chose not to acknowledge it.
"Reading on your summer vacation?" he asked, shaking his head slowly, a grin spreading across his face. "You are definitely no fun."
"I am so!" Hermione looked up, offended that he would make such an accusation. "I just have to keep up on my Charms studies so I don't fail as an assistant next year."
"You can fail being an assistant?"
"You know what I mean, Draco."
The grin spread even wider into a gaping smile. "I still say that you're no fun," he declared, sizing her up with his eyes. It was as if he was challenging her to argue or prove otherwise.
Too intelligent to fall for his taunts, she simply shook her head and continued to read her book. Draco sat beside her in silence for several moments before she noticed his body stiffen. His head spun around and when Hermione looked in his direction, she saw Narcissa bounding across the lawn, a brilliant smile on her face.
"Bella, Rodolphus! Just the two people I was looking for!" Her face looked flushed with excitement and Hermione took note that she was now calling Draco 'Rodolphus' who was Bella's husband. He, too, had been killed in the attack that left his wife dead.
"I wanted to know about the party," Narcissa said, breathlessly, settling herself between Draco and Hermione. "I know you two want a live music group, and that it's your wedding reception, but I really think recorded music would be much better."
Hermione looked at Draco, who appeared as confused as she felt. "Um, right," he muttered slowly. "Mum, do you think maybe you should lie down?"
"I knew you'd agree!" Narcissa replied happily, jumping to her feet. "Cocktails for everyone!" she cheered and charged off back towards the mansion. Hermione's eyes followed her until she drifted out of sight.
"What does your Dad think of her like that?" she asked Draco when she could no longer watch Narcissa.
"He isn't really concerned," Draco said and Hermione detected a note of bitterness in his voice. "He thinks she's no harm to herself or anyone else."
Hermione was at a loss for words. She felt horrible that the woman was plagued into internal darkness and chaos because her husband was so demanding. That should warn you to always think for yourself, she thought to herself.
Draco stood up abruptly. "I have to go," he said and walked away before Hermione could have a chance to respond. She knew his mother's condition embarrassed him, but it was most definitely not his fault. If anything, it was Lucius' fault and he should pay. But that was not up to Hermione. That was up to the afterlife to decide his fate.
She yawned and stretched out on the long bench and something fluttered to the ground. Reaching over carefully, her hand came across the letter from her mother. She held it in her hand, wondering whether or not it was worth reading. She finally decided to scan it quickly, in case anything serious had happened.
"Dear Hermione," she read aloud to herself. "I hope that everything is suiting you well back at Malfoy Manor. Maybe now you will be able to make the choice you should have made at the end of last summer. The gods sometimes give you a second chance for a reason, Hermione, and this one was graced upon you so that you could choose the right path for yourself."
Hermione rolled her eyes. If the entire letter was going to be about preaching and such, she didn't want to read it. Her eyes scanned down the letter quickly, ignoring the admonishing pressures that her mother was placing on her, before coming to rest on a rather interesting paragraph.
"Your father and I will be taking a short vacation this summer to Australia. In other words, you can say we're trying to save our marriage. Your father is adamant that I stay out of your personal business and that whom you marry is none of my business. He doesn't understand that you are still a little girl and need assistance with every decision that you make."
Hermione fumed at this last sentence. Reading on, her mother bid her well wishes and greetings from her father. "We're leaving at the end of this week," she wrote. "I'll write you from Australia."
Was everyone going to Australia this summer? How come no one was inviting her? She felt a little put out but excited nonetheless. Her parents wouldn't bug her for quite some time. There was no way that they would travel all that way only to stay for a few days.
Not if they're Apparating, said the little voice inside her head and her reality self was given a jolt. Sometimes she forgot that her parents were not Muggles and could Apparate and Disapparate. She curled the letter into a paper ball and stuffed it back into the envelope, feeling rage inhabit her body and mind. Who was her mother to think that she was still a child? She was almost nineteen, for crying out loud. Some girls her age were already married with three children! And if her mother assumed that she was such an invalid little girl, then why did she set her up to be married?
Standing up furiously, Hermione stormed into the Manor, via the back door. Narcissa looked up as she passed her in the hallway, but said nothing, still lacking a grounded look in her eyes. Hermione tread up to her bedroom where she slammed the door so hard, the pictures of her, Harry and Ron fell off the walls, all complaining and rubbing their foreheads.
She sat on her bed in a huff, folding her arms across her chest. It was no use pouting, she knew, because no one was there to see, but it made her feel better, thinking there was something she could do about her mother's attitude.
A soft knock emitted from the other side of the door. "Hermione? Are you okay?"
"You can come in," she sulked and Draco opened the door and entered. "I'm not a baby."
Draco's usually clear eyes clouded up. "I know," he said slowly in the same tone he often used with his mother. "I never said you were. Here, have a box of Bertie Bott's." He thrust the box her way and she shook her head. He retreated his arm looking more confused than ever.
"I wish my mother was like yours," she spat out before she could stop herself. Draco looked hurt for a split second, but the look soon vanished.
"Why?"
"Oh, I didn't actually mean that!" she cried, feeling a sudden bout of homesickness sweep over her. "My mother keeps insisting that I'm a child still and that I need someone to look after me!"
"That's funny," Draco said, digging into his box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "My mother can't even look after herself, let alone tell me that I'm incompetent." He smiled graciously at her and held out the box. "Sure you don't want some?"
She shook her head again, but smiled. "No, thanks. You want to read the letter she sent me?" She moved over so that he could sit beside her on the foot of the bed. He sat down and took the letter in his hand. Unscrambling the paper, he took a few moments of silence to read the entire thing. Hermione watched his eyebrows rise as he neared the end of the letter.
"See?" she asked as he handed her back the letter. She rolled it up again and threw it behind her towards her nightstand. "She thinks I'm a child still!"
"So that's why she forced you to marry," Draco said slowly, trying to understand the situation himself.
"Yeah. Makes total sense, doesn't it?" Hermione muttered miserably, grabbing a handful of candy out of the box in Draco's hand. "I mean, is she slow or just mental?"
Draco's eyes flinched, but he said nothing. Hermione felt instantly sorry for choosing the terms that she used, but she didn't apologize this time. Instead she just shrugged and looked away.
"Want to come job hunting with me tomorrow?" Draco asked. "I need a job for in September; just something so I can have a bit of money of my own."
Hermione nodded. "Sure. I should get a summer job, but there's not much point now." She looked at the calendar she had on the wall that bore a grinning picture of Gilderoy Lockhart, one of Hermione's subtle heroes. "It's almost the second week of July."
"Why did you like him so much?" Draco asked, looking at the calendar with a glare of disgust. "He was so rotten; I hated him."
"He was fun," Hermione answered quickly. She wasn't sure exactly why Lockhart had stuck out in her mind, but she was sure that his good looks played a very small part.
"I can be fun, too," Draco said, leaning close to her. Hermione leaned back, ready to accept his kiss but the door burst open and there stood Narcissa, looking fit to be tied.
"Bellatrix! Lucius! What are you doing?" she shrieked. "I thought I would find you up here! I can't believe you, Bellatrix! My own sister! With my very own husband! The two of you make me sick."
Hermione turned to Draco as his mother approached them. His face was pale and he looked frightened. "Mum, it's me, Draco," he said quietly, standing up to face her. Hermione was impressed to see that his height matched her own and he towered over her by a few inches.
"You slime," she shot at him, raising her hands. "If I had my wand with me," but she broke off in mid sentence. She turned to Hermione and seethed. "I would have expected better from you, Bella," she said in a faraway singsong voice. "Much better. After all, you always said that you never had eyes for Lucius, yet here you are, alone in your bedroom, half undressed. How do you explain yourself this time?"
Hermione was speechless. She kept opening and closing her mouth, not sure what to say. Draco jumped in with, "Mum, that's Hermione, not Bellatrix." He motioned for Hermione to leave the room while he restrained his mother. "She's got to go now, Mum, and I think you had better lie down."
Hermione fled the room, escaping to the safety of the kitchen. She sat at the table, with her head buried in her arms. She felt like crying for the poor woman, but no tears came to her eyes. How sad it was for Draco to live in a house like this. They were well off, yes, but emotionally unstable, the whole lot of them. Somehow, Hermione suspected that Bellatrix Black's death had quite an effect on her sister. Hermione could clearly remember the day that Harry and Bellatrix duelled in the streets of Hogsmeade, late at night. Lucius Malfoy was battling with Remus Lupin and Hermione and Ron were shooting hexes and curses at every moving thing they didn't recognize.
"This is for Sirius!" Harry cried and a burst of green light shot from his wand. Bellatrix's face contorted as she dropped lifelessly to the ground. Of course, Lucius and the others had abandoned their battles to check the commotion. Bellatrix's lifeless body was carted out of the village on the shoulders of her fellow Death Eaters. "That was for Sirius," Harry said quietly as Hermione and Ron comforted him.
The front door banged open and Lucius Malfoy burst into the kitchen, a flurry of black robes and white blond hair. He glared at Hermione before asking coldly, "Where's my family?"
"Upstairs," Hermione replied, just as bitterly. "Your wife isn't feeling too well at the moment. Maybe you should take her to the doctor's. Unless, of course, you have a fake doctor that you're willing to take her to." Her eyes glinted at him as his unrelenting hateful glare penetrated her very soul.
"Very well," he said through tight lips. "Where are they?"
"I told you, upstairs," Hermione repeated, exasperated. How slow was this man? "Draco was going to put Narcissa to bed."
"Under this roof, you will call her Mrs. Malfoy," he spat at her.
Hermione remained defiant. "I will call her whatever I please," she said sternly. "Besides, it's an insult to call her Mrs. Malfoy; it makes it seem like you own her."
Lucius grinned and leaned towards her so that his face was inches from hers. "I'm letting you stay here for the summer," he said, "but I can kick you out at any time."
"If you do that, I might not make the right decision at the end of the summer," she retorted and he moved his face away quickly, shock filling his furious eyes.
"What?"
"Kick me out and I won't have the chance to make my decision."
"What decision?"
She smirked. "I guess you'll have to wait until the end of the summer to see."
She enjoyed seeing the agony on his face and expected a nasty comeback, but he remained quiet. Instead, he traipsed up the staircase, yelling, "Narcissa! Are you okay?"
Hermione said in shock for a few moments. It was as if someone else had spoken those words that she was sure had come from her mouth. Never in a million years did she ever think that little meek Hermione Granger would have the nerve to stand up that fiercely to Lucius Malfoy. It felt good to know that she had a strong backbone, nestled somewhere in the goodness of her soul.