PAWN
A/N: The Cliffhanger Strikes Back! Dun dun dun…
***
As the heavy oak doors to the audience chamber slammed shut, an eerie hush fell over the daunting crowd of Death Eaters as Hermione knelt before Voldemort.
Truthfully, Hermione had never been more scared in her life. She sat silently (due only to the spell cast by Draco,) on the cold hard floor, not daring to take her eyes off of her adversary. Hermione didn't even care about trying to hide her fear now—she knew Voldemort could sense it practically seeping out of her pores.
Voldemort continued his study of her. After a moment, he finally spoke. "Rise, Miss Granger," Voldemort said in his low and snake-like voice. Owing to the bounds on her wrists, Draco grabbed Hermione by the forearms and dragged her upwards into a standing position. Hermione shivered in Draco's icy grip, wrenching herself free.
"I believe," Voldemort continued, looking at Draco meaningfully, "that we can free Miss Granger of her bounds?" Draco gave a curt nod of his blonde head and turned to Hermione. He untied the ropes from her wrists. Hermione rubbed them, surprised to see angry red welts forming from the abrasive bonds. Draco then whipped out his wand. Hermione flinched and he smirked, placing the tip of the wand to her throat.
"Parli," Draco whispered. Hermione's eyes went wide as she felt a warm, glowing sensation in her throat, and suddenly rasping breaths pushed out through her mouth. She had her voice back.
Voldemort seated himself on his makeshift throne, obviously amused. "And now, down to business. Come closer, Miss Granger."
Timidly, Hermione took a few small steps closer to the abhorrent creature.
Voldemort looked pleased with her obedience, but what else was she to do? Continuing, Voldemort said, "And now, Miss Granger, we will discuss your living arrangements for the extent of your imprisonment."
A terrible hush fell over the room and the Death Eater heads snapped to attention. Hermione shook her head. What did he just say? She wondered. Perhaps the Death Eaters are planning some kind of torture? Hermione steeled her nerves and spoke. "Shouldn't you just throw me back into the dungeons with the rest of my mates?" She asked, a bitter edge to her voice.
Voldemort let out a bemused cackle. "No, no, Miss Granger," said he. "That would be far too…predictable."
At this, Hermione fought back the urge to let out a harsh chuckle of her own. "Forgive me," Hermione said, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "But you've already tortured me, tried to kill my friends, and bound and gagged me on the way up here. You really can't get much more predictable than that!"
From the side, Draco Malfoy gave her a sharp look and elbowed her in the ribs to shut her up. Hermione gave her former schoolmate a dirty look. Childish, yes—and in the face of extreme danger on the Voldemort front—but Hermione was through with being meek and quiet at the moment. With the Order's secrets already spilled by the thrice double-crossing Snape, now was not a time for timid actions.
Voldemort appeared to be considering his captive's outburst. Finally, he let out an obviously amused laugh. "You make a good point, Miss Granger," the snake like creature said thoughtfully. "Which is precisely why we must decide your living arrangements."
Hermione was confused. She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
Voldemort looked impassive. "Few ever do, my dear girl," he said. Voldemort turned to Lucius, who was waiting in the front of the crowd in anticipation for his Lord's commands. "Lucius!" said Voldemort sharply. "Disperse with these crowds, and call a chair for Miss Granger here."
Hermione saw a blank look of confusion creep into the elder Malfoy's eyes, but he turned and began to command the Death Eater assembly outside of his hall. The crowd left silently, pulling their hoods over their faces as they left. Draco began to file out among them. Just as he reached for his hood to cover his fair head, Voldemort spoke out to him.
"Young Malfoy, you will stay. This matter will perhaps be of your concern." Draco turned, and, locking eyes with Hermione, nodded. Seconds later Lucius returned with Kipsy the House Elf, who was bearing three chairs. Hermione tried to catch the eye of the tiny Elf, but Kipsy's gaze was locked on the floor. The Elf set the chairs up to face Voldemort's, performed a small bow to the Dark Lord, and disappeared with a snap of her fingers.
Alone with the enemy again, Hermione thought with dismay. Voldemort rose from his seat and motioned for his three guests to sit. Hermione, after looking around awkwardly
and receiving a sharp glare from Lucius and a thoroughly bemused one from Draco, found no better option than to seat herself. The chair was enormous, and hugely gaudy, with gilded paint and a burgundy red velvet cushion. The ornate carving made it look like a ruined medieval artifact. Hermione found it a truly Malfoy-esque piece indeed.
Voldemort stared down at Hermione once again. "Your parents were Muggles," Voldemort said. It was more of a statement than anything else, but Hermione nodded nonetheless. From her left, Lucius gave a sneer of disgust, which Voldemort ignored.
"They were killed, were they not?" Voldemort continued, his hands clasped in front of him calmly. Hermione inhaled deeply at the reminder of the painful memories.
"You should know," Hermione spat acerbically. "After all, wasn't it your Death Eaters who did the deed?" Her hands clasped the arm of her chair violently.
Voldemort sighed through his lipless mouth. "Yes. A great misfortune, but unavoidable, you see," he said, not at all cruelly. "There is no fairness in war, Miss Granger." Voldemort paced back to his chair. "But let us discuss less painful matters. The subject of your quartering, for example."
Hermione frowned, seeing Draco and his father exchange wary glances. "What exactly I am I being kept for?"
Voldemort stood in front of Hermione. "Miss Granger, you were—are—the smartest witch to graduate from Hogwarts School in nearly a century. There were rumors," here he paused, scanning the girl in front of him. "Rumors that you had inherited that intellect from Rowena Ravenclaw herself. But of course that cannot be true. We had your parents to consider.
"Your N.E.W.T. results surpassed even my own, I will admit," Voldemort continued. Hermione could not verify whether the tint of pride she thought she had heard in this creature's voice was true. "And it came as a realization to me that if we had one such as yourself on our side," Voldemort showed a lipless smile. "I would be indestructible."
Hermione snorted in disbelief. "You actually think I would sink so low as to serve you?" she hissed in anger, glowering. "I will never work for your scum." Hermione glared at Lucius and Draco.
Lucius Malfoy turned to her, equally irate. "Be quiet, filth!" Lucius said in a deadly tone, raising his hand to strike her. Hermione flinched.
"Lucius! Calm yourself!" Voldemort said sharply. The elder Malfoy, still glowering, slowly lowered his arm and turned stiffly in his chair. "Is this how you treat a future guest in the Malfoy Mansion?" Voldemort asked benignly, gesturing to Hermione.
"What?!" Lucius and Draco cried, bolting from their chairs in sync.
"What?" yipped Hermione in shock.
Voldemort stood, a benevolently calm smile curling over his pale face. "I said, Lucius," Voldemort spoke slowly to his right-hand man. "That Miss Granger will be instated here at your Manor as your guest on my behalf from now on."
Hermione blanched. Draco looked at her in shock. Lucius sank back into his chair weakly.
"My…my Lord," Lucius mumbled brokenly. "I do not understand!"
Voldemort did not look particularly surprised by this statement. "Lucius, my servant, need I explain it again?" Voldemort said in a dangerously low tone. Lucius shook his head, long blonde hair never moving.
"No, My Lord!" Lucius said quickly. 'That is not what I meant at all. I merely meant I do not know of your plan. Surely," he cast a dark look at Hermione; "you have a reason for wishing me to house this…Mudblood in my home?"
Voldemort clucked his tongue. "No need for such harsh words, Lucius," Voldemort said brusquely. "My plan is but simple: you keep Miss Granger here, to your complete advantage of course, while she and Severus work on a new artillery of potions for my stock." He grinned down at a wide-eyed Hermione.
Lucius merely blinked. "But why in the house?" Lucius asked, sounding very much like a five-year-old child. "Can't we just throw her in the dungeons?"
Voldemort sighed disappointedly, eyeing Lucius with some disgust. "If Miss Granger's friends were to attack and come looking for her, where is the very first place they would look, Lucius?" he asked.
Lucius sighed. "The…dungeons," he admitted with defeat, glaring at Hermione, who glared back.
"Besides," said Voldemort, "that is not the extent of my plan."
Hermione's rage broke again. "Oh yeah?" she said. "What's next? I've heard what you do to your prisoners! Will you put the Imperius on me? Lease me out as a slave? Throw me in one of your harems?"
Voldemort calmly waited for the end of this little outburst. "Not quite, Miss Granger," Voldemort said, "but close." Hermione grimaced. She had heard tales of what had happened to female captives—and none of them had been remotely pleasant. Voldemort rose again. "You see, Miss Granger, I have a reward system for my followers."
Hermione quirked an eyebrow in feigned interest. "Oh?"
Voldemort chose to ignore her lack of enthusiasm. "It really is quite simple: if one does well in my ranks, they are rewarded. If one does poorly," he chuckled. "Well, let us just say the consequences are severe."
From her side, Hermione could see Lucius and Draco share a look that told her that the punishments were indeed not something you'd appreciate.
"Fortunately," Voldemort said, the grin crossing back onto his face, "The Malfoys here have done extraordinarily well as of late. Or shall I say, young Draco in particular." Here the master beamed at his young follower. Draco visibly swelled with pride. "And," Voldemort continued, "he shall be rewarded for his actions in the act of the capture of the school of Beauxbatons."
The cold feel of dread crept back into Hermione's abdomen. "And…just how…will he be rewarded?" Hermione stammered, already grasping the cold answer.
Voldemort looked up, surprised by her lack of understanding. "Why my dear girl," said he. "With you, of course."
Hermione's brown eyes inflated with horror. They met those of the equally shocked Draco Malfoy.
Until she blinked.
***
When Hermione came to many hours later, she was greeted with the sight of the ever-energetic Kipsy nervously dancing around her with a cool washcloth.
Hermione shrieked in surprise and bolted up from her lying position. The Elf jumped and cried out as Hermione leapt off of what she realized to be a small cot back in her old resting place—the dungeons.
Ah, upgrades at last, I see, Hermione thought dryly as she noted the cot. Fortunately, her captors seemed to be nowhere in sight. Her only company was the elf, which, Hermione realized, was staring at her avidly from the corner.
"Sorry, Kipsy," Hermione said, catching her breath. "I just…didn't remember where I was."
"It's alright, Miss!" the Elf said energetically, relieved to see Hermione's fit was only temporary. "Kipsy was afraid that Miss had forgotten herself, but Miss is fine now." Kipsy paused, regarding her charge. "How is Miss feeling?"
Hermione realized she had a headache, as well as several craps from her odd sleeping position on the cot. "Miss is feeling…tired, Kipsy," Hermione replied in a tone to match her mood. She sank down to the cot again, massaging her temples. "Why am I down here?" Hermione asked, to no one in particular. "The last thing I remember is Voldemort saying—"
Kipsy shuddered at the Dark Lord's name. Hermione froze. "…saying that I was Malfoy's reward!" Hermione moaned in disgust. Her headache grew and Hermione threw her head down on the cot miserably.
How had she gotten herself into this mess? Why had she ever taken Harry's advice and left the castle grounds alone? Why?
"Why what, Miss?" Kipsy probed. Hermione jumped, not realizing her thoughts had been spoken.
"Nothing, Kipsy," Hermione replied, sighing. The Elf looked up at her with its huge brown eyes full of pity. Kipsy took Hermione's hand and patted it in what Hermione supposed was reassurance. "At least Miss will be free of the dungeons," Kipsy said.
Hermione was about to say something to the effect of describing her hatred of Malfoy when the door to her cell was thrown open in a violent and angry manner. Light poured in and filed around the silhouette of one Draco Malfoy.
"Enjoying the accommodations, Granger?" Malfoy sneered, stepping in to Hermione's abode.
Deciding that since she was in no danger of dying, two could play the snubbing game. "They're fine, thanks," Hermione replied airily, gesturing to the cot. From somewhere beside her, Kipsy shook her head in a bemused way before disappearing into thin air. "Of course," Hermione added, almost as an afterthought, "it was much nicer without the scum infestation that just made itself known."
Draco gave his old schoolmate an icy blue glare. "Now Granger, that's no way for a prize to talk to its owner," he smirked, absolutely radiating with smug satisfaction in his new ownership.
Hermione stood, fury etched into her features. "Listen, ferret," she spat. "You will never own me!"
Draco took a step forward, so he was directly in front of Hermione. Hermione realized with dismay that he had the height advantage, so if she wanted to glare at him from this standpoint she had to actually raise her head to look at the filth. "Listen up Granger," Draco said, his voice dangerous. "Potter and Weasley aren't here to save your skin now…you're at my mercy."
Hermione gave a smirk of her own. "Empty threats, Malfoy," she said, remembering Voldemort's words about her intellect and using her for his potions stock. "Voldemort won't allow you to maim me in any way, and you're quite well aware of that. You can't kill me because I have a job to do. And raping me is far out of the question because you wouldn't dare sully yourself with Mudblood flesh," Hermione spat in fury. Silence enveloped the room. Draco looked totally abashed and at a loss for words. Hermione silently awarded herself a small bow for finally achieving this goal.
"We'll just see about that, Granger," Draco said slyly, pulling on a smirk to cover up his speechlessness. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. "You think you know everything, you always have—but you're wrong Granger, oh so very wrong," Draco said. Hermione started to squirm under the intense blue gaze. "Just count yourself lucky you're in Voldemort's favor." He wrenched her face out of his hands. Hermione could feel a bruise forming on her jaw.
Draco turned to the door with a swish of his cloak that Snape would have admired in their Hogwarts days. "I'll be back for you later, pet," Draco said over his shoulder. Hermione grimaced at the title he had "graced" her with. When he was at the door, Draco turned with a grin that lit up his entire pale face in a malicious delight.
"This game has only just begun, Granger…a game where you're nothing but a worthless pawn," Draco said abrasively, smirking. "A game in which you cannot win."
Hermione held him with a glare. "We'll see," she said. "We'll see whose king will fall."
***
Three levels above in the study, Lucius was pacing nervously in front of his Lord. "I hope this plan works, my Lord," Lucius said, thinking of his son and the Mudblood and his Master's obscene plan.
"When have they not, Lucius?" Voldemort asked benignly, pouring himself a glass of Amontillado from Lucius's wine cellar. Noting the worrisome look on his follower's face, Voldemort sighed. "Lucius, my friend…this plan is fool-proof." He gave a harsh laugh and toasted his own brilliance before the red liquor was thrown down his throat.
***
A/N: YAY! FINISHED!
I hadn't updated in so long, and I'm really really REALLY sorry! (Darn that whole Real Life problem for getting in the way!) It's a long story, and you don't want to hear the details. I can say that since the hols are starting this week for my vicinity of the planet, I'll be updating more. No school= v. happy Madame.
Er…I suppose this chapter had its funny bits. I hope no one thought this was all drama, because it isn't. And we're finally moving in to D/H range! For all you mad shippers out there, this should sate you for a while.
And in other news…well. My reviewers so officially Rock, if you didn't already know. I love you guys so much. Whether it's criticism or praise, it's a major self-esteem boost. Woooooo for you guys:
*Ms Lessa (sneaky bastard indeed! We TOLD you he was tricksy…)
*dangelu881
*Harry's Girl
*Islandmochagurl
*FantasyKiki (thanks! I'm glad you like it!)
*Proud Mary (well…you'll see about all of them if you just keep reading!)
*Tristanlover59
*offleewild1
*hotaru420 (I'd bow, but with my luck I'd trip)
*Unicorn13 (my b-day is even later. I'm a September!)
*Jenberg
*alka
*serena
*Wander Aimlessly (the suspense is good for my review count! Heh)
*Megan
And of course Britta, who help me fend off Liz's Mock-Attack Friday. (Of course, the three of us really shouldn't talk. We are neo-maxi-zoom-dweebies.)
(Sorry. I'm not alphabetizing my thank-yous anymore. That takes time I simply haven't got.)
Be safe and happy—
MME