After a long day's work in the lab, Snape and I were headed back up the stairs to the main house.

"Severus, do I really have to come to dinner?" I whined.

"Unless you'd rather not eat." Severus answered waspishly. We were both tired.

Grumbling, I followed him into the dining room, where everyone else was just settling into seats. I looked around but found no sign of Dolohov. Nobody else seemed concerned by his extended absence, so I decided not to mention it. I hoped he hadn't gotten in some kind of trouble over Scabior. The man hadn't been a proper Death Eater, but still perhaps Voldemort was angry about his demise.

There were two seats left open at the table, and to my dismay, they were next to Malfoy Sr and Bellatrix. Sadly, Daphne was all the way at the other end, so an actually enjoyable dinner conversation didn't look likely. Deciding on the lesser of two evils, I sank into a chair next to Malfoy and let Snape take the chair on my other side, next to Bellatrix.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," I greeted him. Sure, he made my skin crawl, but my parents had taught me manners.

To my surprise, he offered me a smirk in return, "Good evening, Madame Dolohov. We missed you at breakfast this morning."

"I do apologize. I'm afraid after all that happened yesterday, I overslept a bit."

"Naturally, naturally. A most trying day for you I'm sure."

Not as trying as it was for Scabior, I thought. Aloud I said, "Yes, it was rather. Fortunately I've had work with Severus to keep my mind off it."

"Ahh yes, Severus did mention you had some small talent with potions." I gritted my teeth.

"Well, I enjoy it at any rate," I replied calmly. "Do you brew at all, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh, hardly at all," he replied in a equally breezy tone. "Gripworm's Apothecary has an excellent selection, and for a man of my means it simply isn't worth my time to brew my own." I groaned internally. Could the Malfoys not go one conversation without mentioning the size of their Gringott's account? Honestly, it almost made you think they were compensating for a deficit in... other areas.

I returned a polite smile, "Of course, many of the potions the Dark Lord needs can't be entrusted to an apothecary."

"Naturally," returned Mr. Malfoy, "There are also certain potions I prefer to brew myself."

"Indeed?" I asked politely, not at all sure that I wanted to know where this was going, since I knew firsthand the sort of things that went on in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

Malfoy gave me a wide, somewhat predatory smile and lowered his voice, "Oh, yes. After all, Narcissa might wonder why it is that I wasn't sharing my sensory enhancement potions with her," he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

My cheeks flamed and I looked quickly at my plate. I knew from the whispered gossip in my old dorm back at Hogwarts that sensory enhancement potions were what muggles would call a sex-aid. They enhanced pleasure, and allowed each partner to feel not just their own sensations, but those of their partner as well.

I darted a glance back up at Malfoy, and he seemed to be reveling in my obvious discomfort. Seeking to bring the conversation back on to less dangerous ground, I said a little too loudly, "This wine is delicious, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy placed his hand on my shoulder, "My dear girl, if we are to be together in this house, you must call me Lucius."

I nearly choked out, "The wine is wonderful then, Lucius."

"I shall have to take you on a walk around the vineyard some day," he smiled that predatory smile again.

Luckily, I was saved any further consternation by the disappearance of the salad and the appearance of the main course.

For the rest of the meal, I participated halfheartedly in a conversation with Severus about who-knows-what. My mind was spinning. Surely Lucius Malfoy was not coming on to me less than 24 hours after watching my husband's reaction to the last man I'd gotten involved with. This must be a trap, but I couldn't imagine what kind. What was his goal here?

As dinner ended, I snagged Snape before he could return to his chambers, "Severus, would you mind walking me back to my room? I'm afraid I can't get in without Dolohov, and he still seems to be away."

Snape nodded grumpily and swept me up the stairs with him. When we reached my rooms, Snape lowered the wards with a wave of his wand and turned to go. Before he could leave, I swept a look up and down the hallway and pulled him into my room.

"What in the world are you thinking, Hermione?"

"Need your advice." I responded tersely.

"Have you any idea what Dolohov will do to me if he finds me in your rooms late at night?" Severus grumbled.

"Yes, well I intend for you to keep your pants on."

"As do I, but he seems like a man to jump to conclusions."

"Well, sit down and stop looking guilty then."

Snape reluctantly sunk into a chair and sighed, "So what is all this about?"

I quickly recounted the events at dinner. Once I'd finished, Snape said nothing but looked thoughtful.

"Well," I prodded, "What do you think? It's obvious it's a trap, but I can't work out what his angle is."

Snape shrugged, "I shouldn't be so sure it's a trap. Lucius is... competitive."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with annoyance.

"It means that when he is told he can't have something, his desire to possess it increases tenfold." I raised an eyebrow angrily, but Snape cut me off. "I know you are not a possession, as do you. However, you must think as Malfoy does. I don't think he sees you as an opponent, but as a prize to be won."

"Well more fool him," I grinned. Malfoy had been one of our top targets, but I hadn't really thought I had a serious chance on that front. I definitely wasn't disappointed, though. As Ginny had pointed out to me one night when I confessed my crush on Bill to her, I seem to have a thing for dangerous, older men.

"Indeed," Rejoined Snape. "Well, if that is all, I think I'll be going before I have my arms ripped off."

He rose to leave and before I could think better, the words tumbled out of my mouth. "Severus, where's Dolohov?"

Snape turned to fix an appraising look on me.

"Just wondering," I modified quickly.

After a long pause, Snape said "He is on assignment in his native land. You may expect him back my tomorrow."

"Thanks. Goodnight, Severus." I replied.

"Goodnight, Hermione," and with that he swept from the room.

I decided that there was no reason not to sleep in the bed tonight, although it did feel very large and cold, so far from the fire. Nonetheless, I put on some flannel pajamas, tucked myself in and snuggled down into the covers to get warm. So far, I hadn't experienced any nightmares since I'd been here, and I hoped that trend would continue.

I woke up suddenly to a presence over my bed. I noted dimly that the covers were all gone, replaced by a thin, dirty sheet. I didn't move, hoping that whoever it was would leave me alone. That was not to be.

A clammy hand grabbed my arm and pulled me upright. I tried to scream at the face before me, but no sounds came out. It was Scabior, but he was unmistakably dead. His face was smeared with blood, he was missing teeth, and one of his eyeballs hung out, connected only by a bloody piece of sinew. "Ello, Beautiful," he wheezed.

I struggled, but his bloody fingers were relentless. He pried my arms apart, and then I felt a pair of large, clammy hands undoing my night shirt. I whipped my head around to see Greyback behind me, his mouth full of bloody, razor-sharp teeth. In fact, all the men from Malfoy manor were there around me, coming closer and closer. Another hand grabbed my face and jerked me around to the other side. I tried to scream again, but again I couldn't make a sound.

"Hermione!" Someone yelled. I flinched. I started to hyperventilate as the hands ran over my exposed stomach, reaching up...

"Hermione," the voice came again, quieter. "Wake up,"

Suddenly the men disappeared, to be replaced by one large, blonde man. In a blind panic, I struck out again and flung myself out of bed. I flew across the room and found myself crouched by the door.

I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm my racing heart. I wasn't in Malfoy manor. I was in Dolohov's room, and the blonde man on the bed was Dolohov, who seemed to be bleeding profusely from a nose wound.

"Dolohov?" I whispered.

"Yes, little one. It's me." he replied in a calm, soothing voice. "Come back to bed."

I stood up and walked shakily over, but didn't sit on the bed.

"What happened to your nose?" I asked with concern. "Did you get hurt on your mission?"

Dolohov chuckled, "No, little one. You just punched me in the face."

I flushed. I hadn't even realized.

He grinned, showing blood on his teeth. I grimaced and turned away; it reminded me too much of my dream.

I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Come now, mishka. It's okay. I know it was an accident, and to be fair it was a finely-struck blow."

I shrugged awkwardly.

"Can I trust you to fix it?" Dolohov asked.

"Of course," I responded automatically, holding out my hand.

He placed his wand in it, and closed his eyes.

"Episkey" I whispered, and his nose cracked audibly as the blood vanished. I handed his wand back carefully.

"Thank you," he smiled gently. "Don't go around telling anyone I let you use a wand. You're still an Undesirable as far as the ministry's concerned."

I gave him a small smile in return. Dolohov opened his arms and gestured to the spot next to him.

"Come back to bed. Do you want to tell me about the dream?"

"Not really," I responded. I crawled into bed next to him and settled in his arms. I tried to tell myself that I didn't feel the safest I'd felt since this damn war started, here in bed with a Death Eater.

Dolohov was quiet for a minute, stroking my hair. Finally he asked, "Was it a memory or a fear of something to come?"

"A memory mostly," I answered honestly. "With an extra dose of creepy thrown in."

"Well you are safe from it here. Sleep now, little one."

Uncharacteristically, I didn't respond at all. I obeyed and drifted off to sleep.