Despite her fears of all the things that could have happened after Voldemort said those words…nothing happened. He released the hold on her chin and turned to Malfoy.
"Take her to one of the guest rooms," he said, shocking Hermione with what he said next, though she could tell that there was sarcasm underscoring every word, "and treat her as a guest. Oh, and make sure she gets something dry to wear. We don't want her falling sick, now do we?"
Oh, there was no concern in his voice. None at all. She knew, even though he had said nothing about it, was that Voldemort wanted her alive for as long as possible.
"So…so that's it," she heard herself saying. "That's all that you're going to do to me?"
He turned to her with a twisted smile as she picked herself up off the ground. "Oh, no, my dear Hermione Granger. There will be much more. Much, much more. But not now. Draco, take her away. Blaise…you may go as well, but leave the child here."
Hermione's eyes widened and she leapt towards Christabelle's inert form. "Don't you dare—what the hell are you going to do to her?"
She felt herself jerked back suddenly, before she could take more than two steps towards the girl. Someone had caught her from around the waist, holding her with her arms pinned so that all she could do was kick and twist her upper body in a futile attempt to get to Christabelle. She stilled, however, when she heard the sound of laughter coming from behind her. Harsh, cold, mechanical laughter.
"Ah, yes, Draco," she heard Voldemort say. "You do know your part here, don't you?"
"Of course, my lord," came the answer from the person who held her. Hermione screwed her eyes shut momentarily, then kicked backwards with her leg. She hit nothing, hearing only laughter.
"And Hermione Granger, you do have spirit. Now, take her away, Draco. I have no further use for her today."
As she felt Malfoy begin to move she went limp in his arms. If he had to take her away from that girl then she would make it as hard as she could for him to do it.
He dragged her out of the room, his arms in an iron grip around her waist. Zabini followed and as he turned to shut the door Hermione made one more attempt to break away from Malfoy and return to Christabelle. Luck was not on her side and the door clicked shut. She sagged in Malfoy's arms once more.
"Well?" came the smooth voice of Bella Lestrange, who was still lounging by the door. "What did he do to her?"
"It doesn't matter, Lestrange."
Hermione saw Bella straighten at those words. She looked at Malfoy, her eyes narrowed.
"So that's how you are addressing me now?" she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Think you are so much higher than me now, do you boy?"
Hermione felt Malfoy stiffen. She guessed that he was glaring back at Bella, though she couldn't see his eyes.
"If you wish to know what went on, ask the Dark Lord yourself, aunt."
Bella stepped forward in a liquid movement. "Or, boy, I could ask the mudblood herself." Her wand was in her hand in a moment.
Malfoy jerked her so that she was farther away from Bella. "I would not do that, Lestrange. You wouldn't want to anger your master, now would you?"
Hermione saw Bella's face flush with anger but the wand was returned to her robes.
"Insolence, boy. You need to learn to respect your elders."
His arm still locked around her waist, Malfoy dragged her forward, away from Bella. "I will never again have any respect for you, Lestrange. Now, get out of my way."
Bella moved to the side, allowing the three of them to pass. As they did so, Hermione heard Bella call Malfoy something, though she couldn't quite make out what it was. It didn't sound very polite, from what she could hear.
"Draco, are you insane?" Zabini said as they rounded the corner to an empty hall. "She is your aunt, after all—"
Malfoy gave a barking laugh that had no humor in it. "What do you think I am, Blaise? Now, Granger, start walking or I'll curse you. I know some pretty good ones now; I could probably beat you even if you had a wand."
She began to walk, though she said nothing. Better not to fall to his level of taunting.
She still could not believe that this was Malfoy. That he had turned into someone like this, someone who didn't care if Voldemort got his hands on a young girl. Hermione shivered, wondering what was currently happening to Christabelle. She didn't want to think about it, so she tried to block it from her mind. Concentrate on her thoughts of Malfoy, even though he wasn't the ideal subject either.
He was so…so cold. Like he just didn't care about anything. She wondered what had happened to him in the months since she had last seen him. Voldemort had spared him, that much was for sure. But for what reasons, she did not know. It didn't seem like him to keep around someone who had failed him…
In the time that she had been thinking, Zabini had left them, heading somewhere else to do something else. She felt Malfoy's grip tighten again, jerking her upwards as his pace quickened.
"Hurry up, Granger," he growled, his mouth close to her ear. Then; "There are stairs here. Be careful."
And those two words, coming from his mouth, threw her off entirely. She lost her step, slipping down a few steps. Malfoy cursed as he hauled her up.
"What the hell did I just say, Granger? I told you that there were stairs!"
"I'm…sorry," she said, still stunned by his words.
Be careful.
What in the…what did that mean? Be careful? He had never said anything even remotely like that to her when they were still in school. And now she was pretty much his prisoner, completely at his mercy, and he was telling her to be careful?
What had happened to him?
He stopped before a door, fumbling in his pocket for something and withdrawing a small key. With a deft motion he unlocked the door, opened it, and pulled her inside. He locked the door behind them. Then he turned on her.
"I would never have thought it of you, Granger," he said nastily, releasing his hold on her, letting her stumble and fall to the ground. "You, of all people, getting caught like this."
"Well, I'm sorry if I disappointed you," she spat, pulling herself to her feet. With no one else about she felt both more confident and even more frightened than ever. "I didn't know you expected so much from me."
Malfoy crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "Oh, I didn't expect much from you, either way. But getting a child involved? I didn't think you were that stupid."
"And I didn't think that you were the type of person to—" She broke off her words.
Malfoy raised his eyebrows, regarding her with cold eyes. "What were you going to say, Granger?"
She swallowed, clenching her jaw. "If you want to know, you're going to have to curse me," she said through her teeth.
Malfoy did something else then, that threw her entirely off balance. He laughed, and this time there was humor in his voice.
"So that's it. You think I'm going to curse you. Just tell me what you were going to say, Granger." His voice dropped dangerously on the last few words.
Hermione just stared at him. He was…unpredictable. Completely unpredictable. "Wha-what?"
"I'm not going to curse you, Granger."
Her eyes wide, she stared at him. What was going on? First he was cold and cruel, now he was saying he wouldn't curse her? "Bu-but you did earlier." She cursed herself for the stammering in her voice.
He shrugged. "Yes. I did. But I won't now. Just tell me."
She swallowed. Hard. Then took a deep breath and spoke. "I never—I never thought you as one of those who would leave a child to the mercy of someone who would hurt her." There. She had said it. And as the words registered in Malfoy's ears his face went blank again.
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Granger. A lot. And don't," his voice went cold again, "ever think that—" His voice cut off.
"What?" she couldn't help herself from asking. "What were you going to say, just now?"
Malfoy stood up straight, turning back to the door. "There's a bathroom through that door over there. And clothing in the dresser." He opened the door and was halfway out before Hermione moved.
"Wait! What the hell did you mean? Malfoy!" The door slammed shut and she heard it click as it locked. "Damn it!" She struck the wood with her fist and slumped down to the ground.
Now she was locked in a room, more confused than ever. What was he going to say? What shouldn't she ever think? Not that she really cared about Malfoy. But she just wanted to know what was going on.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then opened them and looked around the room. It was small, dark, with a door on the left wall. The one that led to a bathroom, she reasoned. A small bed in the corner with a dusty dresser sitting beside it. And there was…
There was a window. She got to her feet, walking over to it. It was one of those large windows with a low sill, big enough for someone to sit on. Which she did, looking out at the landscape.
It was dark, partially because there was no sun yet, mostly because the clouds were still blocking out the sky, depositing rain over the countryside. There was a tree beside the window, swaying in the wind, tapping the glass with its spidery branches as it moved. Water streamed down the window, obscuring her view. As she sat there and exhaled the warmth from her breath created a patch of fog, misting the glass.
She was cold—freezing, really. But she sat there for a few more moments, watching lightning flash in the distance. She counted slowly, counted the seconds until the thunder rolled dimly.
Almost a minute. The storm was almost sixty miles away.
She rose, walking to the bathroom. There was no lock on the door, and inside she found several musty smelling towels. There was a toilet and a sink, as well as a shower. She turned on the sink, turned on the hot water and found that it actually was hot. She rinsed her hands under it, then shut off the flow. Heading back out into the main room, she looked in the dresser, pulling out a long skirt and a white blouse. Both were a bit ratty, the blouse with a black stain around the right sleeve, almost as though it had been burned. But they were dry, which was all she needed.
In the bathroom she turned on the shower, letting the water heat. Then she stripped out of her wet clothing, dropping them in a pile on the floor. She stepped into the stream of water.
Warmth suffused her body, enveloped her in it. She sighed, letting the water fall over her, washing away the events of the day.
She tried not to think as she washed her body with an old bar of soap, cleansing herself of the mud she had accumulated on herself over the past few days. Rinsing, she sat down on the bottom of the shower, letting her head rest on her knees, letting the water rain down on her head and back. And she just sat there, relaxing as best she could.
Finally, the water began to turn cold and she got out, drying herself off with one of the musty towels. She hung up all of the damp things of hers, then dressed in the new clothes.
Then, returning to the small room, she realized that she was bone weary. She barely made it to the bed before her eyes began to slip closed and she was only able to pull the covers back and fall onto the hard mattress before she was asleep.
Outside, the lightning flashed.