A/N: More of my silly inspiration in this chapter, except it seems so long ago now. So apparently fanfic has stats, and quite a few of you have me down for an author alert, which rocks, but I don't believe I recognize a good chunk of your names as reviewers, which doesn't rock! Thank you to those who take the time to let me know what you think, I truly appreciate it. To my other alerters, I understand it's extra work, but I'd still love to know what you think. I can't be certain, but I hope you wanting alerts on my story can only mean you like it at least a little, that's what I'll tell myself anyways :) At the very least, I'm very flattered you take the time to read my little story. I'd like to make it better for you based on reviews, but hey, whatever peanuts your butter. Hope you like this chapter! and HAPPY NEW YEAR
… … …
"What are you thinking?" asked Harry in a sing-song tone, spinning his wand across his finger and thumb like a bored student in the middle of a class lecture, breaking the studious silence of the room.
"Just about the mission…" mumbled Hermione from the bed where she was lying on her stomach, not looking up from the parchment sprawled out before her. She wanted to give one last look to the guest lists and the strange letters between the Russian Magical Mafia and known Death Eaters, hoping their mystery may just magically pop into place.
"Liar…" drawled Harry slowly.
"How would you know?" asked Hermione, then quickly she lifted her head from her reading to actually look at Harry while she addressed him, "You're not in my head are you?" she demanded.
"No!" cried Harry as if insulted, "Merlin Hermione! How many times do I have to tell you! I don't go in unless you tell me its okay."
"Okay," said Hermione regrettably, "I'm sorry…"
"Besides," Harry grumbled fiercely, "You can feel me!"
"OKAY," said Hermione again, feeling like he was rubbing her nose into her guilty mistake, "I said I was sorry."
"I mean you make me promise, and I do," he ranted, "Do promises from me mean nothing to you then!"
"I SAID I WAS SORRY," Hermione repeated in annoyance.
Harry just glowered at her, frowning slightly. Hermione returned to going over the documents in front of her and Harry took a seat at the edge of the bed.
Suddenly Hermione recoiled her feet up into her legs, "Harry! Sod off!" she barked.
Harry laughed. "Tickle, tickle."
"C'mon Harry, I'm busy."
"C'mon Harry," he teased, mimicking her voice, "C'mon Hermione! It's Christmas Eve! Let's not work tonight."
"Actually Ravenclaw," said Hermione playfully, "its 12:13, its Christmas day…"
"Well then all the more reason to be merry!" he declared, and with a flick of his wand the papers in front of Hermione slid into a nice neat stack, flew across the room and landed on the hotel dresser.
"Haar-yyy" she whined, reaching for her own wand. But Harry was too quick for her and zapped it inches out of her reach with his own.
Hermione sighed, "Alright Harry, what do you want to do? Sing carols?"
Harry gave her one of his shameful puppy dog smiles and a humored scoff escaped Hermione. She rolled over and sat up, wanting to give Harry a hug.
He gratefully embraced her and rocked her playfully back and forth in his arms. The next thing Hermione knew Harry was giving her soft warm kisses on her neck.
"Harry…" she whimpered apprehensively, "Someone will be back to get those papers from me any minute…"
"I locked the door…" said Harry, still kissing her neck all over.
"Seriously this time?" asked Hermione, trying to see if she could tell from her distance from the door, "You always forget..."
Hermione took Harry's movement from her neck to her mouth as all the answer she would get. After feeling his weight subtly push into her Hermione laid back, allowing Harry to position him self on top of her…
It was hard for Hermione to fully enjoy herself at times like these; after all it was hard to get in the mood if you were constantly worried about being caught.
'Relax,' she told herself, 'you know he needs you... you're his only comfort these days…'
But she couldn't relax, even then. It was like she knew, even more than other times. She had a premonition that someone would walk in on them, which is why she told Harry to just go up her shirt and not to take it off… It would be easier to recover that way should someone barge in …
This, among other reasons, was why Hermione made Harry swear never to go into her mind without her saying so. She couldn't feel him. His quiet looming presence in her mind wasn't currently there, honestly it kind of tingled. It made her head feel like it had extra weight in it. No, thank goodness he wasn't there.
One can only imagine his reaction if he had just read her previous thoughts. Planning how to make it not look like they were fooling around while they were supposed to be fooling around? He'd be livid if he knew. Not to mention should he catch a thought that had any association with the fact that she felt like she had to do this for him, that she was only with him for his sake… that she only wanted to help a friend…
She closed her eyes tightly and gave him a moan, slowly grazing his back with her fingertips the way he liked…'Just give him what he needs…' she thought.
And suddenly, clear as day, she felt the undeniable presence of someone else. No! Harry can't hear these thoughts!
'Harry!' she thought harshly. She was very angry he would try and sneak into her mind, 'What are you doing here!' She demanded to know.
'What?" said Harry's confused voice inside her head, 'Hermione look out, you're going to bump into that serv-'
But it was too late, suddenly Hermione was no longer snogging with Harry on a bed but upright and feeling herself bump right into something deftly solid and hearing a loud crash.
She opened her eyes. She had run into a man in a stiff formal looking tuxedo and a silver platter he had been carrying had fallen to the floor, resulting in a loud clamor of noise. She quickly looked around. She was in a hallway.
Surprised, Hermione stuttered, "I'm- I'm so sorry," she uttered.
"No, No, my apologizes Ma'am," said the server, "No need to fret, nothing has spilled, the platter was empty, I was just going back for a refill."
Hermione was looking frantically around for the hotel room in confusion, where had it gone? She looked down; she was in an extravagant evening dress. Her hair; black.
"Do you need some assistance back to the ballroom?" asked the server, interrupting her uproarious thoughts.
"Ballroom!" she asked.
"Just down the hall and through those doors…" said the servant, pointing. Then he picked up his tray and headed off towards what Hermione could only imagine was the kitchen.
'That was close,' said Harry's voice in her head, 'No one was supposed to see you sneak in.'
"Where am I Harry?" Hermione asked, "What's going?"
'That was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in.'
"What?" asked Hermione, he had already said that…
'That was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in… that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in.'… rang Harry's voice over and over in her head.
'Stop it!' she thought, clutching her temples, confusion and now sudden fear mounting.
But Harry's voice only grew louder and faster, louder and faster, 'That was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, that was close; no one was supposed to see you sneak in, THAT WAS CLOSE; NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO SEE YOU SNEAK IN'
Hermione's head was beginning to bang with ache and confusion. "GO AWAY HARRY!" she screamed.
And suddenly he was gone.
She was alone in her mind.
'Great,' she thought, not sure which was better, Harry going crazy in her brain or total solitude in a strange place.
Her decision to try to get out of wherever she was through the ballroom was based on its strange pull, where things seemed eerily and strangely familiar.
The second she even opened the doors and stepped in she was bombarded with drunken people in fine attire, dancing and laughing. They scared her; they were swirling and whirling all around her so. They bumped into her and shouted in her ear, she could barely stand without feeling like she'd be knocked over.
On top of that, a flock of birds were flying over head. Then with a closer look she realized Lucius's revolting crow was picking a fight with the Owl Draco had adored so that night in the Malfoy Owlery. Looking at all the other birds she saw they were all exactly the same, either an evil putrid crow or a beautiful large Owl, dozens of them, all identical and all flying about the room, fighting with each other…
"They'll run green and you know it!" screamed a party guest right next to her.
"Are you mad?" retorted the man he was apparently talking to, evidently neither of which cared they practically yelling in her ear as they're conversation took a harsh disagreement.
"If the water doesn't run red tomorrow then I just don't know what the bloody world is coming to!" he added, shouting not only out of anger but over the noise and music of the party as well..
"Earl, would you just listen for once?" said the other man, sounding very boisterous and annoyed, "I'm not saying I don't think Fudge SHOULDN'T be impeached, Merlin knows he can't control a damn thing, I'm just saying he WON'T be. Never once in the history of the Flow of Fate has the water run red. Only a bleeding heart loyalist to democracy like you would still believe in the power of the people, and in the Flow of Fate. Half of those idiots at the annual political convention tomorrow don't even take the ritual seriously… they'll just automatically vote the water to be green, whether or not they really want Fudge to finish out his term…"
Hermione tried desperately to squirm away from the two debaters before her ears burst.
"Alright, alright," said the other man, appearing to calm down, "I guess you're right, no one ever utilizes the Flow of Fate properly… You just startled me there for a minute, you know there are a lot of wizards out there who think Fudge is doing a good job…"
Hermione heard no more of their conversation, having finally found a space in between the crowd just wide enough to squeeze through. Just in time too, she was about to get a pounding headache. She had completely forgotten that Fudge would be making the 3rd annual address of his 4 year term tomorrow at the annual political convention. Even though the convention occurred every December she had been so busy with the Order she hardly had time to keep up with current events.
She couldn't help but agree though; she hadn't liked Fudge since her 4th year at school. A lot of people didn't. But like the man had said, she had no idea how long it had been since the Ministry actually impeached and voted out a Minister before his term officially ended by voting the water red. He had a point when he said no one took the opportunity to do so seriously. The Flow of Fate just seemed so out of date and old fashioned…it seemed during the opening ceremony all the delegates habitually voting the water green was as ritualistic as the rest of the proceedings.
She tried pushing through the crowd, somehow knowing things would be calmer if she made it to the other side of the ballroom… These people, this party… it was all vaguely familiar.
Finally she weaseled her way through the party attendants, reaching a refreshment table. Sturgis Podmore was standing by it as well.
Hermione's mouth dropped, "STURGIS? You're alive!" she exclaimed in shock and excitement.
"No," he said calmly, "but don't you worry, I consider it paying back what I owed."
"What?" asked Hermione, afraid and confused.
"Never mind that now," said Sturgis, "You're a married woman!"
Hermione crinkled her forehead with deep perplexity, no she wasn't… what was he talking about?
"Oh how marriage changes everything Hermione!" he went on hurriedly, "You'll suddenly find yourself willing to do anything for someone, even if the connection is only by law! I know it's hard to believe coming from me, having never been married myself, but I watched the change in my sister, Marietta Podmore- Excuse me, Marietta Baggins! Why I'm not even related to Clyde by blood yet I find myself thinking I'd do anything for him!"
"Sturgis," Hermione interrupted, "What is this place?"
"This? THIS!" he shouted, "This is a party! The question is: Who am I going to dance with? Lucius or Dumbledore?" And with that, he vanished.
Hermione turned about in circles, scanning the room for him, looking for where he had gone, but instead she only found the most bizarre line of tap dancers.
Lucius, Brusto, Landon and, and… Nicholas Greenly… all tapping and smiling pleasantly together.
Instantly forgetting about Sturgis, Hermione's fear subsided and before she knew it she found herself marching right up to Nicholas Greenly.
"I knew I'd seen you before!" she told him.
Nicholas smiled what seemed to be apologetically and shrugged, continuing his tapping to the sound of an ol' timey style piano.
"But you didn't seem this happy last time…" said Hermione pensively, "Yes, sir, you were annoyed."
He just continued to dance in the line up with the other three, all of which didn't seem to acknowledge her presence but continued tapping upbeat and smiling at the guests.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he finally said oddly.
"It's okay…" answered Hermione.
"If it makes you feel any better, that gum you like is coming back in style…"
"What?" asked Hermione in bewilderment, "Now you've confused me!"
Suddenly he stopped dancing in his place, ironically looking like the ridiculous one next to the other three, and looked her square in the eyes, "When I'm confused, I write everything down," he told her firmly.
Hermione just looked at him inquisitively.
Then he turned to look at his dancing partners, "I need to get back to work, Goodnight Lucius, Landon, Brusto," he said, bidding farewell to each with a polite nod. Then he turned back to Hermione, "You however," he said, nodding at her as well, "Good morning!"
She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Had someone just called her name?
All her life she had had the most bizarre and random dreams, mixing elements of reality and memory with the ("with the peculiar and fantastic" don't sound right with the sentence…try re-wording it or adding a few words) peculiar and fantastic… But hey, even though it would take her awhile to realize the change, her crazy random dreams were far better than the nightmares of horrible, horrible memories that had plagued her for the last few months. At least her weird dreams were kind of funny to her.
It was very true though, ever since she had a partner in her bed with her, she hadn't had a single nightmare. In fact, she was totally taking for granted how rested and invigorated she had been feeling lately.
She yawned pleasantly, stretching out her arms.
"Hermione!" she heard Draco yelling from up deck for what possibly could have been the second time, "come here and look at this."
Hermione wrapped her naked body up in a satin white robe and went to the origin of his voice.
Through the darkness of the very early morning Hermione could see Draco was standing at the railing at the stern of the yacht looking out into the distance. Hermione went up next to him. Draco glanced at her briefly but quickly turned his head back to where he was looking.
"Sorry if I woke you," he said, "I've just never seen the sun rise on the ocean before and got really excited, I thought you might want to see it too."
Hermione smiled, "It's ok, you didn't wake me, I've never seen it either."
Then they both turned to silently watch. Hermione couldn't even organize her thoughts regarding how beautiful it was when the first rays of light appeared, and how the water seemed to reflect every color of the rainbow as the sun beams hit the ocean at different angles, then the fragments danced and twinkled in the rhythmic rise and fall of the waves. The black star filled sky slowly succumbed to the soft sky blue that slowly faded into the pink that was coming from the sun bobbing half way out of the ocean's surface. Slowly but surely it grew more and more sky blue.
The wind was blowing and the sun wasn't up far enough yet to radiate any heat. Draco glanced over to Hermione who was too hypnotized by the amazing spectacle to even realize she was shivering. Draco put his arm around her and pulled her close to him, it made him unexplainably happy when her goosebumps went away and she put her head on his shoulder.
Draco and Hermione were both assuming the same thing about the other; that they had forgotten about Hermione's repeated question the night before.
"We need to take the yacht back soon," he said randomly, "We're going home today."
Hermione said nothing to this, but continued looking out into the ocean. Going back to Malfoy Manor? Already? Of course already, they had been away for a week. It's just that… after the first night she honestly didn't give much thought to anything else but fine dining, dancing, lounging and getting shagged by Draco and living the high life in a far away tropical paradise.
And now suddenly she was supposed to go back? Go back to sadistic Lucius and his scheme with Voldemort with unknown intent? To that stuffy house with those horrible and conceited guests? Go back to where the Order hardly considered her feelings or her well being?
She could kick herself for being so stupid. Of course she had to go back. No matter how bad she perceived the Order she knew it was only because her mission was extremely difficult, but regardless difficulty she must not let it bring her down. She was a captive yes, but also a spy. She had faith that somehow she'd bring the Order right to Voldemort's doorstep.
Then it was only a matter of time. They all would pay, every Death Eater. Wormtail, Crabbe, Parkinson, Lucius, Draco…. The image of Draco in Azkaban struck Hermione very strongly and suddenly she could not define her array of feelings…
"By the way," Draco somewhat mumbled, breaking her train of thought, "My aunt has given us a wedding gift."
"Yes?" said Hermione.
"It's, um, well, plane tickets. We're going to take an airplane home."
That was the last thing Hermione expected to hear, "Airplane? Not portkey?"
"No not portkey," Draco said briskly.
"But airplanes are so muggle," said Hermione, slightly shaking her head in confusion, "who in your family would…"
"My aunt Andromeda…" Draco said quickly, "quite the black sheep. But she, uh, is very nice and knew that it would be something that I would kind of… find interesting. She wasn't at the wedding, not invited, she uh, mailed me the tickets. Lucius doesn't necessarily know… he may think we're portkeying very late this evening when really we'll have been well on our way by then and picked up and dropped off at the front gate, no big deal really, just thought you should be aware." And with that he turned away from the stern railing and disappeared down into the cabin of the yacht.
After watching him hastily take off Hermione turned back to face the now fully risen sun.
The basketball court, television… even the willingness to try Mountain Dew and now plane tickets? Just how prejudice was Draco anyway?
Hermione felt as though she had millions of things to sort out in her mind and placed her chin in her palms, leaning against the rail and pondering deeply as she stared out into her last oceanic view as Draco had begun charting the boat and the voyage back to shore.
… …. …
The clothes Hermione had just shoved into a suitcase had found themselves once again sprawled across the hotel room floor as Draco shoved said suitcase out of his way in order to throw Hermione down onto to bed and remove her clothing all the while passionately kissing her.
The thought must have struck them both very hard and deep at the same time. They were going back to Malfoy Manor. Back to their preordained roles of muggle-born crusading Gryffindor held captive and pureblood Slytherin supremacist with the key to the cage in his pocket. Lucius would be around, and they'd be back in the public eye. Certainly no more shagging. The two of them together just wouldn't make sense there, not like it was there in their hotel and their tropical island sanctuary, that parallel universe where the two could actually mutually hook up without consequence.
Best get as much of it in as possible then.
Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the idea was taking badly to Draco, he never had been too keen on quickies as far as she knew. But he made passionate almost desperate love to her when they had mere hours to catch their plane. Hermione was sure Draco must have never heard of the mile high club, the way he was going at her like it was the last time.
But only Draco and the pleasure Hermione knew came along with him could keep Hermione, a stickler for plans, punctuality and responsibility, away from packing and ensuring they make the plane on time. In fact she wasn't even worried about it; she was screaming and moaning in ecstasy.
And from that, she grew a little sad. It felt good to be so distracted by something pleasurable that she hadn't the mind capacity to worry about her usual Hermione worries, it was so liberating. She NEVER got a vacation like that; Draco was the only one who could do it. And soon it would be gone.
If only they could stay on the island forever, enjoying each other's bliss in their paradise. No Lucius and his perverted counterparts, no Dark Lord on the rise, no betraying best friends, no mission.
Quickly Hermione was ashamed of herself. She had to complete her mission! While Draco made her feel as though other things were more… important… better… she knew she just wasn't thinking clearly. She would complete her mission; Draco had just been an unexpected perk.
Draco roared loudly and then his whole body relaxed. For a brief moment he still had Hermione pulled into him. He lowered his head, resting his cheek in her chest with his eyes closed, feeling her catch her breath while he caught his.
Casually he raised his head and released Hermione to get herself redressed. Then the two slid to the floor, gathering up the clothes that had spilled and quickly shoved them into their luggage, giggling slightly at their sudden haste.
As they were running out of the Hotel's grand entryway, climbing into their limo and taking off to the airport, Hermione took one last look at the beautiful ocean and wondered airily how Draco would act towards her when they actually got home.
… … …
"Quickly!" Draco barked as he, Hermione and a house elf lugged their luggage up the large Malfoy Manor stairs "He'll wonder why we took so long to portkey!"
Getting to Malfoy Manor from the plane took longer than Draco had thought, and now he was worried Lucius would question him.
But when the main door swung open Lucius could not be seen among all the others passing by the foyer in route to other places of the house.
"Draco…" said Hermione, "Who are these people?" The house felt to be quite fuller than usual.
"I'm not sure," said Draco, although some of them looked familiar, "I think that one is from Lucius's office… that one too… but that one is from another department…"
"Is he having a meeting?" Hermione asked with sudden Order inspired interested.
"Not that I know of," said Draco, "I mean it would be unlike him, he hardly ever brings people in areas of the house not intended for entertaining guests."
Hermione smirked, 'no wonder', she thought, 'with so much to hide.'
"Oh bother," he muttered, "I'm not sticking around to talk to these bores, I'll go see if mother is upstairs, tell her we're home."
Draco left Hermione there in the foyer alone with the elf and strange guests. She studied them, they seemed busy, distracted, almost worried even. Suddenly there was a tug on her arm. A house elf was trying to get a bag from her.
"We can take care of these for you miss," he squeaked.
And as if so flashy Hermione saw it out of the corner of her and just knew, she looked up the stairs to see Rita Skeeter in a bright yellow business suit walking along with Lucius.
"…remember," he was saying, "Don't print it till this Friday, the Monday before the Address…"
But Hermione didn't stick around to greet them; she had already dashed along to her quarters, hoping they hadn't seen her.
… … …
It was late afternoon, the sun was beginning to disappear and soon the house-elves would be in to light the candles for Hermione to read by. She had been in the library for hours, save for her breaks where she'd wonder around the south wing, looking for Sarah or Draco… But Sarah was no where to be found, and the only sign of Draco was the light coming from beneath his study door. If he was in there, he hadn't come out in a long time. Hermione was bored, almost lonely even, but not quite bad enough to leave the south wing and venture the rest of the house, Rita could still be here, reporting on whatever it was exactly going on.
But a growl in Hermione's stomach, in addition to her restlessness, helped her decide to brave the possibility that Rita may still be around and go to the kitchens for food and the slight possibility of running into Sarah, who could maybe be cleaning there.
Much to her disappointment no one in the kitchen was over three feet tall. After letting them talk her into a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup Hermione took a seat at the counter and pulled Wednesday's Daily Prophet over to herself while she waited.
"Fudge announces he is re-running for Minister of Magic" read an intriguing headline, pulling Hermione's attention into the article:
"As it is well known, the end of my eight year term is one from this December, the time when the Trove of Smoke is open once again to the Wizengamot, who shall elect your next leader," Fudge was quoted to say in answer to Rita Skeeter regarding his run during a brief address today. Although the public conference was intended to focus on the upcoming annual State of the Union, Ms. Skeeter's question digressed the topic slightly as Fudge continued, "Well, I'd like to announce today that I, Cornelius Fudge, am re-running for Minster of Magic and this months convention will focus largely on my stance regarding current issues, rallying up supporters and getting a kick start on fundraising for my new campaign!"
The announcement caused quite a stir among supporters and critics alike. Fudge's recent actions pertaining to muggle relations and the silent yet solidly growing threat of the re-rising of He-who-shall-not-be-named has undergone much scrutiny. As Fudge has almost already completed his 1st eight year term, he is only eligible for one more.
Of course, the Ministry will be accepting applications from others seeking candidacy. Running mates will also be announced at next week's State of the Union convention, although it is unknown as to whether or not anyone else is interested in the position. A reliable 3rd party can confirm that the much rumored as interested and highly acclaimed Albus Dumbledore is in fact not interested and will not apply for candidacy. When asked, Fudge referred to the rumors he has shown signs of believing at one point as a "gross misunderstanding" and would describe his relationship with Hogwart's Headmaster as "very professional".
Never-the-less, next weeks convention will be the very beginning of what is sure to be a long year of self-promotion and campaigning from all those interested in running. As always, the Daily Prophet will be the source for all your information needs regarding the candidates and the progression of their campaigns."
Hermione finished the article with mixed feelings. She wasn't surprised Fudge would re-run, and she was fairly confident he would win, mostly because he was the only well known person willing to do the job. But what the hell was Rita doing at a press conference about the State of the Union coming up? Since she had wormingly gotten her job back she wasn't allowed to do front page news. No, Hermione had been pleased to see it was only back page gossip dribble for her. True, she hadn't written the article, but she and her off topic question had been mentioned in it. Rita even being allowed to do field research at the press conference irked Hermione enough.
She sighed in stifled frustration and tossed her napkin onto her now bare plate. Perhaps a long hot bath and then she'd go to bed early…
She collided into a brooding, stiff figure in attempt to go through the kitchen door.
"I'd say welcome back, mudblood, but your clumsy stupidity just reminded me how unwelcome you truly are," said Lucius's harsh voice with a particularly extra dose of venom.
Defense and dislike quickly filled Hermione at the sound of his insults, "Clumsy…stupid… mudblood?… don't you mean Malfoy?" she brandished back.
It took Hermione an extra second to figure out the hot throbbing pain on her cheek and the jolt to her head and neck was because Lucius had smacked her across the face, it had been so surprising after all. Of course immediately after she felt like an idiot: he called her a mudblood out loud, surely he should've known that meant he was alone, no one around to be fake for…
And if only she had looked Lucius in the face before speaking to him first, she would've noticed his eyes were wide and piercing, and he had a smug half smile on his face. His shoulders and chest were puffed up and held high, and he had a little hop in his step.
Only so many things could make Lucius Malfoy appear so happy. He was, no doubt, on a power trip. If only she had noticed at first, Hermione would've known to be more careful. But the smack had now become more of a smack into reality. Lucius Malfoy was a goat sucking bastard and her every breath should be toward bringing him down… Each throb in her cheek was now an unceasing reminder and she surged with anger…
But she didn't provoke him further, she knew intuitively now was not the time.
Lucius had been staring at her intently; waiting for her response, any reason to beat her further… but to his dismay she did nothing out of line.
"What was that for?" asked Hermione softly, not looking at him.
"Looking back, I've realized you haven't been a very good houseguest. I've been too lax with a loudmouth brat like you; you've gotten away with far too much. A good host draws lines, and now you know I demand respect."
Then he pushed her aside and asked an elf for a bottle of champagne.
Hermione knew instinctively that he must have something he wanted to celebrate, and it filled her with a sudden strong and horrible feeling. Suddenly, she felt very behind, overwhelmed and rushed. Her inefficiency and dillydallying rapidly made her extremely upset. There was no more messing around, with a sudden and desperate urgency she felt she needed to figure out what was going on and fast. Once she did, she could escape, warn all the others and finally take down Lucius and his evil empire. She needed to do all this, before it grew too late.
Before Lucius had whatever his ultimate goal may be to celebrate.