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Chapter 4
Picture
I am all alone this time around
Sometimes
on the side I hear a sound
Places parallel I know it's you
Feel
the little pieces bleeding through
--Nine Inch Nails
Hermione fidgeted, uncomfortable with the way Lucius was appraising her. He watched her fidget fascinated with how much she resembled his past friend.
"You won't have your strength fully back yet, but that potion is better than the last. And you will need to continue resting and remain calm."
She looked around the cabin, avoiding looking at Lucius. He was amused by her state. She obviously feared him. Something dawned on Hermione. Had Lucius even eaten since bringing him to the cabin?
"Would you like something to eat Mister Malfoy?"
He appeared to sneer at her as he answered her, "yes." Hermione looked at him, briefly considering letting him starve when a shiver ran through her body. Lucius saw her shudder. His eyes raked over her body again.
"Perhaps you should dry yourself first. It would be such a loss to the wizarding world for a witch such as you to die from pneumonia."
Hermione's eyes narrowed at Malfoy.
"Your sarcasm is duly noted."
She turned from the man and with a flick of her wand, she was dry. She stopped in the kitchen area. Turning to look at him, she started to fidget again.
"You can bathe yourself while I fix some food. Can you get there on your own?"
He looked back at the bathroom door and then to her.
"I am sure I can manage," he said. There was no way he was going to ask this…this…this Mudblood for help. She shrugged and turned toward the kitchen.
As Hermione looked through the kitchen, she wondered why she was not just contacting the Ministry with Lucius' whereabouts. But he had been hurt and weakened and she could only imagine how the dementors would love that. She shuddered at the thought. Then she could hear his hoarse voice whisper "Bellatrix" and a new anger formed in her.
Slowly, Lucius made his way back to his designated bed. He watched Hermione. A burning anger was on her face as she forcefully threw food together. Hermione placed some soup and pumpkin juice on a trey when she heard Lucius getting back in bed. When she turned and stepped toward the bed she stopped, frozen in her tracks. Her usual view of Lucius Malfoy was in all black, covered completely in clothes screaming his aristocratic presence, but this was not what she saw. Lucius Malfoy had opted to wear only the pajama bottoms he was given and there he was in the bed with his upper half bare.
Hermione found it hard to swallow as she stepped closer to him, placing the trey across his lap. As he moved his hands to allow her to set the trey down, she saw it—the Dark Mark. Standing up, she didn't move her eyes from the mark. In her mind, the mark still hung over the house she grew up in and the screams of her parents echoed around her.
"I…I…um have to go. Just leave the trey on the side table. I'll be back later."
Lucius watched her run from the cabin wondering why she was not turning him in or killing him.
Harry was watching Ron's knight annihilate his bishop when Hermione came down with a box of fake coins. She sat down in a chair, taking out her wand, and began making odd wand movements to each coin.
"Hermione, what are you doing," Harry asked.
"Preparing the fake galleons for any new arrivals at the DA meeting." She stood up with the box full. "I imagine there will be many."
Harry's mind flashed to the events the night Dumbledore was murdered. The looks on the students' faces who were not fighting—those who had not been in the DA. It was shock, horror…helplessness. Harry nodded his head, looking down in time for Ron to speak out in victory.
"Check mate!"
Harry's eyes shifted back to Hermione climbing the stairs to her private room. Harry felt a burning hate for Voldemort as he watched one of his best friends. No one else seemed to notice, but he had. She wasn't the same anymore.
"Want to go again," Ron asked.
Harry looked back to Ron and shook his head slightly. As usual, Ron had been oblivious to what was going on around him. Frustrated, Harry stood and headed up to bed.
When Hermione came back down the stairs, she found the common room nearly empty. Ron sat at the chess table packing up his chess pieces. Hermione was not in the mood for Ron's chitchat. Picking up the book she left on the sofa, she sat down to immerse herself in reading. Ron looked around the common room when he was done and noticed how deserted it was. Walking over to Hermione, he slid himself next to her on the couch.
"I wonder if they will ever find Malfoy," Ron said. Hermione simply shrugged. She hated this. Every time they were alone and Ron opened his mouth to try an actual conversation, it sounded and felt forced. There was just nothing really for them to talk about. A small twinge of fear and guilt twisted in Hermione when Ron mentioned Malfoy though.
"I hope Voldemort kills his arse," Ron stated trying desperately for conversation.
Hermione's head snapped over to look at Ron.
"Ronald Weasley! That is a horrid thing to say!"
Ron, with his blank yet confused look on his face shrugged his shoulders.
"What! Hermione, he is pure evil! Look how he has treated you."
Hermione shook her head as she turned back to her book.
"That doesn't matter Ron. He is still a human being."
Ron looked at her as if she had snakes coming out of her head. Hermione paid him no attention however and went back to her reading. Ron sat there silent for a moment. Then he decided he was done trying to talk. Hermione felt Ron's movements and hoped she was wrong in what he was about to attempt to do. She was terribly disappointed when she felt his lips moving on the side of her neck. Without looking up, she shrugged him off.
"Stop it Ron."
Ron sat there a moment watching her read. Looking around the common room, he turned back to Hermione and attempted to assault her neck again. She shrugged him off much more forcefully this time.
"Ronald, what is wrong with you? I said stop."
This time she turned to look at him. He didn't look happy.
"What's wrong with you," he snapped.
Hermione stared at him trying to figure out how he could ask her such a thing. There were so many things "wrong" with her. Shouldn't he, above anyone else, realize this?
"You know what, Ron." She snapped her book shut and stood up. "Being as your main concern is snogging maybe you should find someone else to snog."
She stormed up the stairs, thankful she had a room to herself. She leaned against her closed door. Ron's angry voice traveled up the stairs, reaching her ears.
"Fine! I'll just do that!"
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and blindly felt for the phoenix pendent. Once she felt it, she held it between her fingers, opening her eyes, and looking down at it. She looked around her room. She really did not want to be there—she did not want to be anywhere Ron was near. Looking back down at the phoenix, she began turning the serpent.
Lucius slept most of the day. When he was awake, his mind drifted to a certain memory.
It can't be her.
He continued to convince himself that his memory was of someone else. After all, for so long he had blocked the memory, refused to ruminate on it, waiting for it to slowly disappear from existence. His mind kept betraying him though. If the Mudblood was the same girl from his memory, then that meant one thing—she lied to him all those years ago.
As Lucius woke, the soft sound of a sniffle alerted him to someone's presence in the cabin. The door to the bathroom was right by his bed and just going in there wore him out, he didn't have the strength to make it all the way across the cabin. There was a fire in the fireplace though. Sitting up in the bed, in the gap between steps he could see her. Hermione was curled up in a large chair. The light from the fire reflected on her face.
She was pale like someone haunted by things within her own mind…in her own memory. The dark circles under her eyes told him she did not sleep well. She started shifting as if seriously disturbed. A tear slid down her cheek and he could hear an agonizing whimper. He sat frozen watching her.
Suddenly, Hermione sat straight up, wide-awake. She looked around as if recalling where she was. Realizing the time that Harry and Ron were probably already heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast she jumped up, throwing the blanket off her.
"Oh bugger!"
Lucius watched the girl run around frantically. She ran into the bathroom and grabbed a phial of potion for Lucius. Sitting it on his bedside table, she ran to the kitchen and threw a quick breakfast together for him. As he ate, she checked the time again. It didn't matter how quick she was, she would miss breakfast totally. Not that she was very hungry anyway. Lucius watched her stand there tapping her foot in irritation and indecision. Throwing her hands up in the air, she turned toward the bathroom and moments later Lucius heard the shower running.
As the warm water showered down on Hermione, she felt every ounce of her relax. She hated waking up like that, but it happened almost daily anymore. As she washed her hair, she kept pondering how the things she needed in terms of immediate needs—food, shampoos, ect—seemed to be provided by the cabin. It was Dumbledore's so it couldn't be totally normal. Then her mind wandered to the injured Death Eater in the bed just through the door.
Why am I doing this?
When Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, Lucius had finished his breakfast and was downing his potion.
"Now do not forget your strength will not be up to par yet, so no traveling around the cabin yet."
Lucius looked at her as he placed the phial down, irritation growing. Who did this Mudblood think she was? Hermione noticed the detestation Lucius held in his eyes while he watched her. Her eyes narrowed in return before she turned to leave.
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Using all his strength, he pulled her back. She fell back over him, landing on the other side of the bed. As quick as a flash of lightening, Lucius turned, pinning her wrists to the bed. He hovered above her, sneer in place, with nothing short of malice in his eyes.
Hermione's heart was pounding. Panic was washing over her coming close to overwhelming her. He leaned so close to her that as he moved to whisper in her ear, she could feel the heat from the tip of his nose caressing her cheek. Hermione held her breath.
"You are correct, Miss Granger. My strength is not up to par. Just imagine what I can do when it is."
She began to squirm, wanting, needing to get away. He chuckled ever so slightly as his strength began to wane. He threw himself back onto his back and watched with amusement as Hermione scampered off the bed. She grabbed her bag and rushed for the door. On her way out, Lucius heard her mumbled "be back later."
Hermione sat in the common room working on her homework. The first DA meeting was in only a few hours. Harry sat across from her working on a DADA essay. Hermione looked up at Ron playing exploding snap by the fire with Dean. She shook her head. Harry, noticing this, turned around following Hermione's gaze.
"Don't worry about it Hermione. You know Ron always waits until the last minute."
Hermione snorted as she turned back to her work.
"Yes and then he expects me to do it for him."
Harry smiled gently.
"True."
The occupants of the Gryffindor common room looked up at a tapping sound coming from one of the windows. Curiously, Hermione walked over to the stained glass window and opened it letting in a school owl. The owl flew into the common room, circling the entire room, and dropped two pieces of parchment in between Harry and Hermione.
"What is it," Hermione asked Harry as she opened her own.
"Professor Slughorn is having a dinner gathering next week."
Hermione could feel the burning glare Ron was sending her way as she read the invitation. Ignoring Ron, she placed it in her bag and began gathering her books. Harry looked up.
"Where are you going?"
Hermione shrugged a bit.
"I'm running to the library. I'll see you in time for the DA meeting."
Harry nodded and watched her run out the portrait hole.
Hermione entered the cabin to find Lucius sound asleep. The potions would cause him to sleep for hours. As she stood next to his bed looking down at him, she questioned her decision to help him again. He seemed so strong that morning when he pinned her down. And he was right—what would he be like when he was back to full strength? An indescribable panic rose in her chest at that thought. Would he kill her?
She was about to turn away when she noticed it. On the bedside table sat a small snapshot. Reaching out with shaking hands, she looked at Lucius to see that he was sound asleep still, and picked it up. She stared at the wizard picture confused and enthralled by it.
The occupants of the picture were unaware they were being photographed. She recognized the surroundings—her favorite corner in the library. Sitting at a table was a much younger Lucius Malfoy. A book lay out in front of him on the table. His hair was much shorter than the Lucius lying in the bed, closer to the length of her ex-Potions Professor. The most drastic difference was his eyes and face. Lucius' face seemed less closed off than what it was now. His eyes—his cold grey eyes held warmth…warmth that seemed directed at the oblivious girl sitting across from him. The girl sat deep in thought chewing on the tip of her sugar quill before beginning to write again. Hermione stood in the cabin, staring at the picture…staring at the girl in the picture. It could have been Hermione's identical twin.
