Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize in the Harry Potter books.
Chapter IV: Caught
"What's taking him? It's been more than three hours," Hermione said impatiently walking around Draco's room to keep herself busy. She sighed and sat. Why was she worrying anyway? She didn't think he would bring her food, though God knew she was hungry enough to eat a hippogriff, figuratively speaking. Knowing him, he was probably stuffing his face with food and enjoying the point that she was suffering.
That wasn't fair, she knew. She had to give him credit in the 'being human' department. And she had to admit she had never seen Draco 'stuff his face.' That was Ron's department.
For the first time she took the time to notice the room. It was really magnificent, and well, enormous. The room was painted silver-gray, and green for the corners and angles. The lights from the torches made the somewhat dark room seem a little spooky, with the light reflecting from the mirror-like color of the walls. There were tall beautifully framed windows and a balcony, all of which were with drapes parted to showcase nighttime on Malfoy grounds. If it weren't for the torches situated on the walls, which were charmed to light automatically, she would have been in total darkness. With a wave of her wand, the lamps on the end table and bedside drawer lit up to give her a bit more light.
There was a majestic four-poster bed with its black covers and drapes which were trimmed with silver and made of a strange material that felt like silk, smooth and shiny, but was incredibly warm—a very welcome feeling in the cold season of winter. The posts and headboards were decorated with green ruby-eyed serpents twirling around them. It was a work of art, obviously antique, though of course stylish. Then there was the large ornate cabinet, of course for Draco's clothes.
The couch she was sitting on and the wing chairs, which were placed in front of the grand fireplace, were extremely cozy and well suited for comfortable reading, which she assumed, was what Draco mostly did in them seeing the shelves full of books in the bookshelf along one corner. In front of her, there was a small table. Its design was that of four snakes biting a circular piece of oak wood on which was placed what looked like a dragon's claw carrying a crystal ball, inside which was what seemed like a large yellowish pointed tooth that was suspended at the center. She was puzzled by it. It looked like it belonged to something taller than a three-story house. Then she remembered the Black Dragon's heart. She noticed a door which she supposed lead to the bathroom. How she longed a warm soak in the tub after the crazy events that happened to her that day.
A palace in its own right, she thought as her eyes scanned the room once again.
"Hey, I'm not staying long." Draco. She wished the jolt he gave her didn't show. The matter was embarrassing enough as it was. His quick and silent entry was quite unnerving. She was glad to see him though. She was starting to get really bored with looking around the room. "I just came to tell you that we're having an event downstairs so be careful."
Hermione's stomach growled.
"Don't worry. I asked a house-elf to bring something up for you to eat." He was just about to leave when he added: "Granger, be careful. Pansy's here too." An unfamiliar jolt passed through her. Curious. "You don't know how good she is at finding out about things."
Somebody knocked on the door and Draco answered it. 'Speaking of the devil,' he thought as he saw who it was.
"Draco, sweetie," Hermione heard Pansy's loud, high voice. It almost made her sound like a house-elf. "I saw this elf sneaking some food and it said it was for you so I decided to personally bring it to you. Here," she said holding up the tray of food.
"Thanks," he said as he took the tray and tried to close the door. Pansy stopped him by putting her hand to block it. Draco visibly mentally argued with himself whether to close the door on Pansy's fingers or entertain her for a while longer. He chose the latter, having in mind his father's disapproval if he learned of such trouble with his… approach with other 'pureblood families.'
"Can I come in?" she pleaded, fluttering her eyelashes.
"No."
"But why? Are you hiding something from me in there?" she asked trying to look around him, but failing with Draco blocking her from getting even a small peek of Hermione, who was now too nervous to even shift for fear that Pansy might catch her movement.
"Because it's my room and I do not wish for you to enter it," he answered full of cold venom in his voice.
"Please, oh please," she said in her irritating babyish tone.
"No!" Draco finally barked. Even Hermione jumped, literally. "Are you that daft that you can't notice that I want you to leave me alone?" He saw something flicker in the annoying girl's eyes. It probably meant trouble. And he couldn't care less. It would be wise to avoid any trouble for now though. For somebody else's sake. "Just wait downstairs, alright?" he ordered in a slightly softer tone but still as commanding, banging the door in front of her.
Hermione finally got over her shock. "Wow!" she exclaimed at his outburst a while ago. "Remind me never to get you angry again. You almost gave me a heart attack a while back there," she said lightly, trying to cool down the boy.
"You won't even dare anger me when you work for me at the start of the term. You don't want to displease your master, do you?"
Hermione scowled. "Of course I would. With an idiotic git like you for a master, who wouldn't?"
Draco didn't react the way she expected him to. He just smiled—a real genuine smile, which made Hermione blush. She had never seen him smile before. "Here," he said, giving the young girl the tray of food. "Hey, I could send Potter and Weasley a letter if you want. They must be worried about you by now."
"Sure, but I'll write the letter. I don't think they'll believe it if you're the one who wrote it."
"Good idea. They might think that I kidnapped you or something. The quills and parchments are in the top drawer over there," he pointed to the one beside the bed. "I'll send it when I come back." And with that, he left.
Hermione ate the food quickly. It was a meal that could rival Hogwarts. And that was saying something. After she finished, she decided to take the bath she had longed for first since it would probably take some time before Draco came back. He wouldn't have bothered informing her if not. Enough time to take a soak in the bathtub. Or better yet, a relaxing bubble bath.
Hermione took her clothes off and wrapped a fluffy white towel around her with the initials D. M. skillfully embroidered on it. She fixed the water making it just the right temperature, randomly selected a scent and poured it lavishly. She had manners really. But the propriety of asking slipped her mind completely. She didn't think Draco would mind anyway. It didn't look like he used them—the bubble baths and the majestic bathtub. The shower did though.
The dip felt wonderful and smelled great. She looked around the bathroom. It was absolutely elegant. What else would you expect from the Malfoys? It was orderly, too. There was a pile of neatly folded towels.
There was no window but floating scented candles of different shapes and sizes, which automatically lit up the moment she came in, amended for the darkness. The air was immediately filled with its fragrant and relaxing odors. And, Hermione noticed, they moved out of the way when you passed. There were candles shaped like flowers of different kinds, which were all placed approximately at waist-high, a sun, which was noticeably lower than the other candles, and a moon, which, on the contrary, was higher and gave a hazy white light. Different sizes and colors of stars dotted the place, their flames following the corresponding color of each—ranging from sizeable blue ones, which gave bright bluish-white light, to little reds giving faint scarlet glows. She noticed that the moon and the stars' flames provided most of the light, giving the room an eerie glow. It was somewhat relaxing, giving you the feel that you were bathing under the moonlight.
Suddenly, Hermione heard a voice ring through the room. "Where is she?" It was Lucius.
Hermione hastily got out of the tub and covered herself with a towel. The door to the bathroom suddenly burst open and Lucius, Draco and the Parkinsons entered. Narcissa was nowhere in sight. Draco had his hands behind his back and his wand was with Lucius. She could hear his faint growl.
"So here's our little mudblood," Lucius said with disgust. The word 'mudblood' hurt worse coming from Lucius than from Draco.
"You didn't think I'd miss you, did you, mudblood?" piped Pansy's high-pitched voice. "You really should know that you couldn't hide that fat body of yours, even if it is behind Draco's broad shoulders. It's too large."
Draco laughed contemptuously. "If she's fat, what does that make you? An elephant?"
She could see Pansy's shocked expression, quickly replaced by a frown, giving Hermione a moment of satisfaction. Ha, didn't expect that, did you, Parkinson?
"Shut up, boy," Lucius snarled, hitting Draco in the face. "That is, if you don't want to spend the rest of your vacation chained in the dungeons," he said in that same malicious voice, twirling Draco's wand between his fingers.
"You can't do that to your own son," Hermione cried boldly.
"Oh, I can, child. And if I can do that to my only heir, I can do it to a mudblood like you," he said laughing mercilessly.
"You cruel beast," she said between gritted teeth.
"I may be a cruel beast but you can be my beauty (cooorny! Ugh, how could I make such a line? slaps herself in the face. LOL)," Lucius said, touching Hermione's still bare shoulders. Hermione could still hear Draco's growl, evidently becoming stronger. She couldn't take it anymore. She suddenly slapped Lucius as hard as she could.
It didn't seem to have hurt him one bit, but still losing his temper at her insolence, he shouted "Crucio." It was pure pain. A second of agony felt like an eternity of torture. It was nothing like she had ever felt before. She embraced herself, trying to stop the shouts burning in her throat, and failing miserably. She could hear an assortment of different noises in the background: Lucius' loud ordering barks, the Parkinsons' malicious laughter, Pansy's annoying chatter and, to Hermione, the most distinguishable of all, Draco's shouts.
"Hermione! Stop!" There was no pleading in his voice. Anger, yes, and hatred of course. He would never plead. She wouldn't ask him to. For him it would be like giving up his pride. But for her, trying to help her was more than enough.
"Hermione! Hermione!" he shouted over and over again.
a/n: Oh, I do love Draco's growling. Oh, and sorry about that stupid line. Where's Narcissa when you need her? I wonder what happened at the party? Hmmm… well, review.