Author's Note: Thank you for reading my story! I appreciate all the reviews, follows, and favorites so much! If you saw on my Twitter or Tumblr this is a rewritten version of this chapter as my computer ate the original. Feel free to reach out to me on either platform under LaDeeDaa35
This is a non-HEA. Lots of triggering things in this fic so please proceed with caution as it's intended for over 18. This is not a happy fic and you will most likely not like many characters by the end.
Chapter Trigger Warnings: extreme psychological trauma, extreme emotional abuse, imprisonment, blood, sexual content, and manipulation.
Song mentioned in fic is 'Sparrow' by Marvin Gaye.
Again, thank you!
Chapter Two
Lady Hermione Malfoy held her champagne flute the way her mother-in-law had drilled into her head, playing the part of an aristocrat's wife expertly. Her dull eyes, disguised with makeup tricks to look lively and beguiling, moved across the room unseeingly. She'd never found any enamour in the display of wealth that her husband's parents lavish on their guests. To her this was simply another boring social orgy with the pompous elites her family found much more suitable company than herself.
Her mother-in-law was likely to be watching her, picking up on little critiques as she was so apt to do, that would inevitably be brought up during breakfast tomorrow. Hermione's father-in-law was, no doubt, in the midst of maneuvering political alliances for his next legislative task to make his and other disgustingly affluent families' lives that much simpler by exploiting the law to assist with increasing their assets.
It nauseated her almost as much as knowing her husband had most certainly slipped off with his mistress early tonight and his absence was keenly noticeable. He and Astoria had been particularly blatant of late which made her worry that if the gossip became loud enough it would reach his mother's ears.
If Narcissa did catch wind of the whispered truths, she would berate Hermione for lacking in whatever wifely duties she thought her daughter-in-law needed to keep Malfoy's interest. It was her responsibility to please him, not the other way around. Then she would begin her favorite lecture on why Hermione was the worst possible choice for a daughter-in-law. So often had her mother-in-law recited all of her shortcomings she could probably save her the wasted breath and regale them herself.
According to Narcissa, Hermione wasn't an unfit daughter-in-law simply because of her mudblood status, which was actually her second most glaring offense. In her mother-in-laws' esteem her daughter-in-law was apparently still failing, even with all the time taken out of Narcissa's own busy schedule to train her, to be sociable enough as one in her status was required to be. Hermione also hadn't yet mastered every facet of etiquette she should know but wasn't taught due to her mudblood upbringing. However, those paled in comparison to her lack of producing their sorely desired grandson so as to keep the Malfoy legacy going, even if the child would be a half blood. This had become an especially egregious flaw recently after so many years of being married.
Three years of marriage.
Three childless years of marriage if you asked either of her in-laws.
Rather hard to fill a nursery when your husband would only fill his arms with one woman and that woman wasn't his wife, she thought. Astoria had made it quite clear to her husband she was not one to share in the early months of her marriage and thus her husband had bowed to his love's will and not so much as stepped into his wife's private suite since. Not that Hermione minded. At this point she had no qualm with not ever having to fulfill that part of her vow. His parents would never berate him for it, having spoiled him his entire life, and found it much easier to put the full blame on their repugnant daughter-in-law for the situation as they did with all the other woes relating to their unauthorized marriage.
She knew Lucius and Narcissa had spared no expense to try to find a way to get rid of her by nullifying the marriage contract and a means to unbind their vow. It seemed Malfoy was correct in his research and had effectively tied them irrevocably together.
Without meaning to Hermione scowled slightly before she caught herself and smoothed her features back into a look of unaffected poise. Any time she thought about her husband and the cursed binding he'd convinced her to participate in, it made her furious. For three years she'd dealt with the pain of his disregard for what they'd vowed to each other. In that time she'd noticed the powerful binding magic that had been entwined so strongly between their individual magics to create the new shared magic when they first came together dim darker and darker. Now it seemed to have extinguished and she couldn't be sure if its magic even existed anymore between them or if they only possessed their own magic.
Why the binding hadn't affected him for not casting aside his other pursuits with his extramarital dalliances she didn't understand. Everything she'd ever read about the binding ceremony they'd participated in stated the vow was not to be taken lightly and the ancient magic interlocked with theirs that presided over their joining would do as it saw fit to make the pair of them comply with the vow they willingly submitted to.
She'd yet to see any evidence of that being true and had begun to think the ceremony had been performed incorrectly somehow, which allowed him to keep Astoria as his mistress all these years later without repercussions. What she did know was that a facet of herself, almost like a hole in her very being, had been stolen by him that fateful night. Swept away like a thief's plunder to leave her with a feeling of incompleteness. She hoped he had a similar feeling and that his ached like a rotting tooth for his selfish choices in the marriage he willingly chose to be in even if he acted like he didn't. Regardless of her husband's extramarital pursuits, nothing could change the fact that, to Hermione's in-laws great distaste, she would be a permanent fixture in their lives as much as Malfoy would always be one in hers.
Hermione sipped her drink, smiling a false pretty smile at the chit now engaging her in frivolous conversation about the splendid food and marvelous entertainment. Nothing would give her more pleasure at that moment than to smash the glass drink in the girl's painted face to shut her up. At length she was able to politely excuse herself with a weak explanation of needing to revisit with the head chef about the lack of horderve platters.
Once she'd made her escape outside the ballroom walls she sighed uncomfortably in the confining black corset hidden beneath her silky blue green gown. It looked lovely on her given the number of men who unabashedly lowered their gaze to her breasts that were modestly covered yet noticeable enough for them to stare. What she wouldn't give to be in her evening dressing robe, curled up in her private parlor, reading a book by the fire instead of being an ornament for the men to ogle. Convinced she'd found a temporary moment of solitude she began to pace down the hall leisurely, savoring the muffled silence. Her steps inevitably led her past the drawing room.
She's no longer phased by it.
The fear of the room was nothing compared to the absolute phobia she'd developed for locked, enclosed spaces.
Without meaning to her mind mistakenly dredged up the unpleasant memories of when she'd first come to the manor and the baptism by fire she'd endured here during the first year of her marriage.
No sooner had Malfoy pulled Hermione around the corner away from Harry and Ron when he stopped her in her tracks.
"We don't want to draw further attention to ourselves, so keep quiet."
Knowing he was right, Hermione let him drag her silently through the wreckage of the recently emptied Hogwarts corridors. After the traumatic departure from the boys she now realized that she didn't think she could bear seeing how her other friends would react when they learned the shocking new circumstances she found herself in. They eventually came to a length of corridor where Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood awaiting what she assumed was their son's arrival.
"Wait here." Malfoy commanded, stepping over to where his father and mother watched the pair of them arrive together with barely disguised confusion.
At first, neither of them seemed to outwardly react to the news he relayed. Eventually, they glanced expressionlessly down at the ring on his finger, then over to Hermione's own hand, before raising their deadened eyes to her face. The shared look of disdain that followed made her hollow stomach drop further. Of course they'd be upset, she thought bitterly. There was no need for her to continue to naively hope that this was going to be anything but a continuation of the war of wills she'd just endured for the last two years. It's another war she's resolute to end in her favor.
The familial trio spoke in hushed voices for only a few minutes, however it seemed to be a heated, waspish argument from the looks on their faces. At last, Lucius and Narcissa swept past their son, moving in the opposite direction of where she waited, toward the courtyard while Malfoy returned to her side.
"We're following them shortly so they can prepare for our arrival at the manor."
Hermione's eyes were still watered from telling Harry and Ron goodbye. Now with her imminent departure she had a thought of how much she didn't want to leave without at least saying goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They were her only pseudo parents she had left...
"May I at least say goodbye to-"
"No," he interrupted her sternly, "I told you, send whomever it is an owl. We need to leave now before things get out of hand here."
"Malfoy, you're being unfair. I'd really like-"
He grabbed her upper arm tightly.
"We're leaving, wife, before the Ministry officials appear. Would you like to have to deal with them interrogating you and perhaps arresting your husband today or would you prefer to have some reprieve after last night's arduous events?"
Hermione paled a little. No, no she most certainly didn't want to deal with the Ministry today. What she really needed was enough sleep for the dead to feel well-rested and time to come to terms with her new reality. A reality where she lived with her childhood bully now turned husband and his parents who couldn't stand to share the same air that she breathed, let alone her presence in their manor. The same manor that'd been the setting of many of her ongoing nightmares these past couple of months. Adding an inquisition and his possible arrest to her already overwhelmed state of mind would end disastrously.
Seeing her shoulders slump and taking it as Hermione's unspoken compliance, Malfoy kept his hold on her as he escorted them out the same courtyard his parents had left through until they were beyond the boundaries of the smoldering castle. Still holding her firmly he apparated them. When she opened her eyes she found that they were standing before the foreboding Malfoy manor front gates as she'd stood before them not even three months ago.
"You need to take out your wand and cut your palm."
Hermione startled at this instruction as he released her arm.
"What? Why?"
Malfoy glared vexedly at her.
"To add you to the wards, of course. You're a resident now and the manor needs to recognize that. Since I cannot bring you harm I'm unable to cut your hand without hurting myself as well."
With great reluctance she slid her wand from within her pocket. The wand tip sliced across her own palm as she muttered the spell and cut her skin deep enough to draw blood.
"Why do I need to cut my hand?"
Malfoy's eyes rolled impatiently before he also retrieved his wand and nicked the tips of his fingers so a drop of blood welled to their surfaces.
"Obviously the manor is blood warded, Granger."
Without further explanation, he pressed her palm into the freezing cold iron lock of the gate while his own bloody fingertips touched the metal between her spread fingers. There was a brightening of purple light between their hands before it dimmed and the gates opened for them.
After tending to his own fingers he waved his wand well above her cut so as not to touch it, sealing the skin back together, and pulled her speedily up the long lane toward the looming front doors. It was so eerily similar to the last time she'd been brought here that she almost asked him to take her inside another way.
"You may be a resident but exiting and entering the manor by other means requires my father to add additional ward privileges. For now, you've only been given the liberty to do either through the front door and gates." He explained, as if he could hear her thoughts.
It sounded more like a tactic to keep her imprisoned, she thought worryingly.
Once they're inside and the front doors closed with a definitively loud thud, Malfoy waved a hand around the high ceiling room in disinterest.
"Formal foyer. All the formal rooms are in the front of the manor. We rarely use them except for social events." She didn't look around as she'd already been through here before and would rather not be in this vicinity of the manor ever again if she could avoid it.
Malfoy had already explained she'd have her own set of rooms where the family resided at the back of the manor, far from where Lord Voldemort had stayed and done much of his work. It was the only thing that made the idea of even returning inside this house of horrors possible.
He walked a pace ahead of her as he led her down a familiar hall. A slight jolt of phantom pain ran through her arm to the scar hidden beneath her clothes when she recognized the layout they were traversing down.
"Malfoy, where are we going?" She asked, suddenly uneasy.
He didn't answer her.
"Malfoy, why are we going this way and not to my rooms? Where are we-"
He stopped...he stopped in front of them. She could never forget the lofty, dark mahogany doors, the goblin wrought silver handles with the Malfoy crest hand crafted into them, and the aging creaking sound they made as they were pushed open against their heavy weight.
They'd stopped in front of the drawing room doors.
She hadn't blamed Malfoy for what'd happened nor for the role he had to play that night the snatchers brought Harry, Ron, and herself to the manor. She knew they couldn't be found out or, as he had warned her, they'd be killed. He had to ignore her as his insane aunt incised her for life with the disparaging word all of her new home's occupants thought befitting of who she was. Hermione had hoped he'd sympathize with her some after the ordeal when they next met for what happened or apologize for not being able to help her.
He never did.
"Why're we here?" She whispered wobbly.
"Father and mother wanted to meet with you in private." He explained in a toneless voice.
Hermione turned to face him.
"I can't go in there."
His look of dispassion only exacerbated the fear she felt which she was sure must be evident on her face.
"It's a short formality and will be done in no time, wife. Then I can give you a tour of the rest of the manor and your rooms."
She turned to face the doors. Even with her Gryffindor bravery she couldn't stop her hands from shaking so hard that she couldn't even grasp the handles when she tried to lay them atop the decorative silver.
"I-I can't. Couldn't they meet me in-"
Malfoy's hands shot past hers and yanked the handles down to gain entry before pushing the loud, squeaking doors from her nightmares open.
"Salazar wife, no one in there can hurt you. Just go and appease them." He hissed into her ear before shoving her unceremoniously into the room.
By the time she'd caught herself from falling on unsteady footsteps and spun back he was already closing the doors...with her wand, somehow pulled from her jeans pocket, in his hand.
"A precaution. I'll give this back after you're finished."
The doors sealed shut and their loud locking sounds reverberated around the high ceilings.
Panic choked off Hermione's breath as she raced back to the doors, pushing down mightily on the handles that wouldn't give way under their locks.
"Malfoy, I can't! Please, don't leave me locked in here! Open the door!"
She tugged on the handles to see if the doors would simply pull open but they stayed firmly shut.
A disdainful 'tsk' from behind her had her whirling in place.
Lucius Malfoy stood next to the fireplace while Narcissa Malfoy sat in a black wingback chair beside him. Both stared cavalierly at her as Hermione's gaze dropped from the pair down to the hardwood floor where...where…
Narcissa scowled.
"Stop that heavy breathing noise, you sound like a crup in heat. And enough of your theatrics. You heard my son, neither of us can harm you, mudblood."
Hermione felt her breath calm long enough to raise her flashing eyes at her mother-in-law. So much for a hospitable welcome for their new daughter-in-law who was going to spare her a life in Azkaban.
"Don't you dare call me that."
Lucius's eyebrow rose.
"Or what? You'll hex us? With what wand, girl?"
A jolt of fear rippled across Hermione's skin as she came to the realization of the validity of his statement. When she said nothing further her father-in-law nodded knowingly.
"Your temper is precisely why we asked Draco to remove your wand. We don't want to have any unfortunate accidents."
Hermione's gaze turned stony as she stared on at them until Lucius began to pace the floor before the fireplace.
"So, you've married my son. I cannot say I could foresee something like this happening especially given how contumeliously Draco has always spoken about you. Well, now that you two have revealed your foolhardy arrangement and the unhallowed ceremonies that were performed to bind yourselves together, I took the liberty before your arrival to glance over the terms of agreement you signed as well as the legal marriage contract you both agreed to. Did you research any of this beforehand to understand what you were agreeing to, mudblood?"
Hermione's chin tilted loftily, as she stared down her father-in-law. She refused to answer the arsehole if he kept calling her that even if she was wandless. After a long, unpleasantly silent pause Lucius sneered at her.
"Fine, Mrs. Malfoy," he couldn't have said her new married name with more disparagement if he'd tried, "did you research the binding ceremony or read through the marriage contract prior to signing the agreement of terms?"
Hermione couldn't help her gaze from flitting down involuntarily to that spot, that very distracting spot, before she answered.
"I researched everything as well as I could while I was on the run for my life. Malfoy-I mean Draco, gave me what he could find in his own research and I read through everything thoroughly. I know he had a solicitor review and ensure the legality of signing a terms of agreement to accept the marriage contract. I personally read through the contract a week prior to signing the agreement and saw no fault in its wording; they're both magically and legally irrevocable."
It'd been difficult to find anything in the books she'd found on what it was Malfoy was asking her to agree to with this binding. Things she did find eluded to a more Divination and nonsense view of binding oneself to another 'for true love'. All in all from their combined research it seemed from a more practical understanding they were agreeing to a sharing of their magics, minds, and bodies in exchange for a sort of unbreakable fealty to each other. She'd been unable as of yet to determine how her husband's mistress would factor into the vow he'd taken.
Narcissa looked fleetingly perturbed up at Lucius as she whispered harshly.
"I never should've gone into Bellatrix's vault to retrieve that cup. I thought it strange when Draco said the Dark Lord wanted it moved to the manor without her knowledge."
Lucius glared down at his wife, his face blatantly telling her to keep quiet in front of their mudblood daughter-in-law who could no doubt hear her confession. Narcissa's lips thinned as they tightly shut. Having silently censured his wife, Lucius returned to the conversation at hand by openly glowering at Hermione.
"Yes, Draco has said as much as well. How very noble of you to bind yourself with such a vow in exchange for the victory of the war. You must feel quite pleased with yourself to now be considered not only a savior of the war but also one of the wealthiest women in all of wizarding Britain."
Any desire she may have had to find mutual grounds of connection with her in-laws and to offer peace died like the her innocence of life had on the floor in between them. She felt all the righteous anger from their involvement in the war and how because of this man's grave incompetence his son had unwillingly chosen to bound himself to her so that she might save him and his mother from an ill fate. Lucius must be incredibly egotistical to think he had no bearing on the current circumstances they were all in right now.
"Oh yes, I'm so thrilled to be married to the man I considered my enemy in almost the entirety of our non-existent relationship. It's so pleasing to be tied to him and his family who think they're superior to me because of what they deem to be my inadequate blood status. That they're so much better than I am because of their endowment of large sums of galleons they didn't earn a single bit of except for their luck of having the last names they were born with.
"How clever of me to have actively sought out Mafoy and convince him to agree to this scheme so I may sink my claws into the finite Malfoy fortune. I've already planned all the many things I intend to buy with the substantial wealth that comes with my title as your son's wife since that's what matters most to me; money."
Neither of her in-laws were impressed by her sarcastic tongue lashing but she'd hardly noticed. She still wasn't able to stop herself from looking anywhere except that heinous spot on the floor.
"You've quite the impertinent mouth on you, girl. That's something you'll need to rectify as the possible future Lady Malfoy before you can be brought into our society." Lucius chastised.
Hermione couldn't help but snort indignantly.
"I've no intentions of being a high society lady. I'll keep to my rooms and books. No one will even notice that I'm here, Lucius."
He openly growled at her when she spoke his name with casual disdain.
"In this household we respect the rank of titles and as such you will call me Lord Malfoy unless directed otherwise. You'll also not sit in your rooms all day reading like a swotty chit. I've read the contract you've signed and by doing so you've agreed to be a Malfoy which means you have social responsibilities you'll be expected to comply with."
Her stare left the floor again to look into the cold azure eyes of her father-in-law. She knew it had been ambiguous while reviewing the marriage contract she'd read that by signing the terms of agreement she'd be agreeing to 'accept the title and duties as the Lady Malfoy' upon his father's death. That wasn't now though, and hopefully wouldn't be for years to come. Until then she saw no reason to adhere to this man's orders.
"No, that wasn't what Malfoy and I agreed upon."
Narcissa stood then, her face contorted into a hostile jeer.
"There'll be no negotiations with this. Regardless of how we feel about this travesty we're intent to overlook your shortcomings to make due with the situation we now find ourselves in unless otherwise remedied. If you're to become Lady of the manor you'll have many duties you'll be expected to perform, even as a mudblood, and you'll not-for heaven's sake girl stop looking at the floor! It's extremely rude."
Hermione's eyes snapped up when Narcissa censured her to meet her father-in-law's look of deliberation then resolve.
"There's no time to waste. We must start your training as the future Lady Malfoy, right now. The first thing you must learn is how to move past what's happened in this home, girl. War is messy and sometimes you end up in the thick of things such as you did in this very room. That was then and we're here now. As your future role dictates you're going to be expected to play hostess in any room of the manor, including this one. You must become accustomed to setting aside your personal qualms to play the part you agreed to by contract."
Hermione shook her head vehemently, unable to even consider the demand.
"No, after this meeting I refuse to ever step foot inside this room as long as I live here."
The silence between them was deafening as she defied her in-laws yet again. She didn't care what they thought. She wouldn't be made into a pretty floozy who bounced around in ridiculous dresses, pretending to care about the elitist pricks her husband's family mixed with, all while ignoring the horrific trauma she'd endured here.
Lucius's lips curled into a strange smile.
"I see. Well, that's where you're wrong and a perfect segway to the point of this meeting. As junior lady of the manor you will follow the social protocols that are required of your status. You'll be compliant and obedient to myself as Lord of the manor, my wife as Lady of the manor, and your husband. You'll learn the social decorum befitting your position. You'll do all these things willingly and learn your place, girl, starting now."
Hermione's heart lurched, wondering what he'd meant as she stood defenselessly before Malfoy's wand wielding parents. It's then Lucius stopped his pacing before his wife.
"Narcissa, I'd like to take tea in our parlor before we call on the solicitors to begin the process of building my defense for the Wizengamot trials."
Lady Malfoy nodded to her husband, sending another hate filled look at her new daughter-in-law, and vanished on the spot which now left Hermione alone with her father-in-law. Lucius regarded her coldly.
"The first thing you'll need to master is how to handle your impulsiveness. You speak before you think as do you act before you think. A good way to do that," he grinned maliciously at her, "is to curb your reactions by facing your fear of this very room."
Hermione's stomach knotted with anxiety.
"Wh-what?"
Lucius picked up his walking cane he'd left leaning against the great stone fireplace mantle.
"You'll spend your time here until you can learn to control your response to being in this room and move past what's happened here."
She stared at him disbelievingly.
"No, I refuse."
He threw his head back and laughed callously.
"You misunderstand me, girl. You've no choice. Figure out how to control yourself and keep your outbursts in check befitting your new station. Our house elf Hattie will be by from time to time to check on you until I've deemed you effectively remedied of your absurd fear of a room."
Without another word, Lucius disapparated on the spot, leaving Hermione alone in the drawing room. Whatever Lucius had meant by her needing to find self control left her mind completely.
She was trapped in here.
She was trapped in the Malfoy manor drawing room.
She was locked away in the drawing room; the scene of all her nightmares of late.
Hermione rushed the expansive doors again, slamming her palms hard on the antique wood. She could feel her magic reach out for Malfoy's connected to hers, to tell him of her distressing situation and her need for help.
"Draco, please let me out! I'm locked in. Open the door!"
Silence.
She slapped her hands until they were red and numb to the stinging sensation before she moved on to pounding her fists on the doors. She screamed herself hoarse as she beat on them for what must've been hours.
Someone had to let her out.
Anyone.
She couldn't stay in here.
She had to get out.
She had to get out...
"Miss?"
Someone was gently shaking her awake. Hermione's eyes snapped open to stare at the little house elf before her, their big sapphire blue eyes blinking curiously.
"Hattie?"
The house elf nodded.
"Yes, miss. I's coming to check on yous miss and bring yous supper."
Hermione sat up from where she'd passed out in front of the drawing room doors.
It seemed to be later in the day if her grumbling stomach were any indication as to if she'd slept past lunch. Hermione looked pleadingly at the little creature before her.
"Hattie, can you please take me out of this room?"
Hattie looked fearfully around her.
"Shh, miss mustn't. Master has warned Hattie to not let you out, miss, except for the lavatory. Hattie will be most egregiously punished if I's does."
Angry tears filled Hermione's eyes at the house elf's plight. Of course Lucius would, the bastard. It's not in her nature to ask a creature to willingly help her at their own risk, especially a Malfoy manor house elf.
"It's alright Hattie, I understand. Can you take me to the loo, please?"
Hattie nodded and took Hermione's hand, apparating them with a loud crack. When Hermione's eyes reopened she was in a completely sterile white lavatory. There may be a door but she couldn't find it nor was there a window.
"Hattie is returning to collect miss in ten minutes. Then miss is eating supper." The house elf explained in a high pitched voice.
Hermione thanked her before she vanished with a crack. She wasted no time trying to explore the room for an exit.
There wasn't any way out that she could find.
Resigned, she quickly bathed in the walk-in shower then redressed herself in the same clothes she wore at the Battle of Hogwarts. She's used to this after the limited clothing choices she had in the past year. Eventually Hattie returned to bring her back to the drawing room. A small table had appeared that held a decent spread of food.
When had she last eaten? She made to cross the room but stopped herself short and instead skirted around the perimeter, avoiding the middle area.
After eating her fill of a real meal to the point she thought she might be physically ill Hermione stood slowly, steadying her hands on the arms of the elegant chair she sat in. With a bit of strength restored she turned from the chair and stared blankly at the spot.
It didn't look like much of anything now that the rug covering the area was gone. Upon a distant inspection though, she'd found there was the faintest hint of a blood pool stain that was rather large around where her attention was drawn to. She wondered how much, if any, was her own blood and how many others had laid there as she did, meeting a fate worse than hers? How many didn't leave this room alive?
With great reluctance and Gryffindor worthy courage she took a step forward and stood for a while.
Then another.
And another.
When it was getting dark outside she'd managed to come within a few feet of the spot before she broke down bawling, retreating back to the doors and once again trying to force them open until she passed out in exhaustion.
Some time later Hermione woke in cold darkness. No one had lit a fire for her nor did she have her wand to start one. The chill made her shiver involuntarily as she huddled up tighter within her jumper that she stretched over knees. She wasn't sure how long she lay like that, hours perhaps, when she felt a slight tug at her magic.
His magic.
It wasn't very strong but it almost felt like his was seeking hers out. With an aching movement her head tipped up as her eyes slid to the crack at the bottom of the sinister doors where her only source of light peeked through. Once her eyes adjusted from the dark, her heart leapt in surprise. She could see someone was sitting on the floor on the other side of the door.
Carefully, she sat upright and lightly tapped on the wood.
"Malfoy? Are you out there?"
There was no reply.
She'd laid her cheek flat again on the floor to make sure they hadn't left. It looked like they're still there.
She sat up once more, the tears flowing openly now and evident in her subdued tone.
"Malfoy, please let me out, I can't continue to stay in here. It's cold and there's no fire. I'll keep to my rooms if you let me out, I swear. Please, Draco?"
Again, there was nothing but silence for another minute before she heard the creak of a floorboard. Her cheek pressed into the cool hardwood as she hopefully watched them get to their feet...and walk away down the hall.
"No!" She screamed, pounding her fists on the door.
"Draco, don't leave me in here! Open the door! Draco please! You swore a vow not to harm me! Draco! Draco, come back! Draco!"
The feeling of their magic snuffed out again, like a candle being blown out quickly. Her fists pounded on the door like that until her wrist bones were rubbed raw and bleeding from hitting the laquered wood over and over.
He didn't come back.
The next evening she repeated her attempts to move toward the spot on the floor. She'd managed to take a two steps closer before she was forced to retreat back beside the door where she'd taken to sleeping in case Malfoy made another unexpected visit so that she could try to plead with him again.
On the third night she moved six steps closer.
By the fourth night she hovered next to it.
The fifth night she stood atop it, shivering in cold fear but remaining unmoved all night.
On the sixth night of her imprisonment Hermione laid on her back in the spot as she had that night, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The same cracks in the plaster were there, the ones she tried to trace to ignore the pain in her arm as she screamed in agony. After a moment of searching she found what she'd been looking for.
The lines in the ceiling right next to the upper left corner of the chandelier curved to form an oddly shaped outline of a sparrow. She remembered when she saw it, right after Bellatrix had withdrawn the tip of the blade from her bloody skin. She could almost feel that pain again in that morbid moment.
Hermione's eyes stared transfixed at the cracks until she could almost actually see the bird with it's little body and head tilted somewhat. It looked exactly like the ones her father had told her about when she'd asked him questions regarding the little birds that'd taken up residence in their garden.
Sparrows, he began after adjusting his glasses high on the bridge of his nose where he always placed them when he was about to give her a dissertation, were social birds, birds of family, birds of joy. They would find small delights here and there to fill themselves with contentment for what they'd been given in their lot in life. Sparrows were clever things who worked together for the greater good of the whole flock which is probably why they had chosen the trees in their garden to stay in because they would protect all of them. When Hermione decided sparrows were her new favorite animal, at the time her father grinned knowingly.
The memory of the song came naturally to her then. It's the one that every time she'd heard played on her muggle radio it would remind her of her father and the conversation they had that day. Since her lips were very dry Hermione wetted them with her equally dry tongue. Satisfied they were somewhat moistened she began to quietly sing the lyrics to herself, giving the self comfort she needed since no one else would afford it to her here.
Eventually, her song drifted away as she closed her eyes to fall restlessly asleep into nightmares of that night in this room. Violent scenes with slashing knives, a blood splattered persian rug, and unfeeling sets of eyes that looked on as they stood by the fireplace flooded her vision. Once in her nightmare she told herself that she must wake up from this bad dream.
It wasn't until morning that she was finally able to pull herself free.
Hermione was made to stay in that room for a week until, as Lucius had instructed, he felt she'd learn to control her emotions better in the room.
On the seventh day of sitting at the windows, staring vacantly out across the manor's sprawling manicured gardens, the door handles slowly dipped down to open.
Hermione's head whipped towards the door to find Malfoy standing in the entryway with his hands on the handles. She jumped to her feet, her eyes searching his face questionably. As he glanced up and down her body she knew he was assessing her state of her mentality.
"Father says I'm to give you a tour of the manor now, if you're amiable."
She pushed the tears that desperately wanted to appear in her eyes back down. Her part of their shared magic lashed out angrily at the feelings she felt for his abandonment, for letting his father do such a thing to her.
"You left me here."
Malfoy's eyes were masked emotionless orbs of grey matter. She could feel his own part of their shared magic strike hers like a whiplash, making it recoiled with a kind of pain that wasn't physical but just as painful as it withdrew back into her and settled quietly, effectively cutting them off from their connection again. It was a hollow feeling of utter emptiness.
"I couldn't let you out anyway, seeing as my father controls the wards."
Hermione stared at him for a long time, hoping he'd show her some compassion for the emotional ordeal she'd just endured. He eventually held the doors open wider for her, his other hand now withdrawn from his pocket, holding out her wand to her.
"If you promise to not cause harm to my parents I'm to return this to you for your use. However, if you do use it against them, I'll remove it from your possession since we can't harm each other. Is that clear?"
He'd get no affirmations of any type from her but he seemed to know this as he gestured mockingly out the door.
"Shall we, wife?"
Her eyes dimmed at her formal title as she looked on her husband impassively. Calmly, so they wouldn't have reason to lock her in this room ever again, Hermione walked directly over the spot that'd been covered in her own blood once and past her husband's lithesome frame, being sure to not touch him as she took her wand back, wishing she could enact the exact harm she vowed not to on him. It would almost be worth it to know he actually did feel some of her pain.
A few weeks later the Ministry officially charged her husband, mother-in-law, and father-in-law with crimes related to their part in the war. As per their agreement Hermione appeared before a handful of the Wizengamot members to plead leniency for her husband and mother-in-law. It was the most daunting thing to defend either of them after the hellish ordeal she went through when she first arrived at Malfoy manor.
Yet the fear of the pain she could experience through their binding after the ordeal with the drawing room was more effective at making her want to keep Malfoy out of Azkaban at all costs for her own safety. Besides, she'd made a vow that must be kept to protect them.
Her privately heard testimony before the head and senior co-council for the Wizengamot secured the acquittal of her husband and mother-in-law and somehow allowed Lucius Malfoy the privilege of being under house arrest until his trial, however he couldn't couldn't leave the premises without notifying the Department of Magical Law Enforcement unless there was an emergency. It's more lenient than she'd thought any of them would receive until she watched the three of them gracefully approach the Wizengamot seats and cordially shook hands with wizards and witch that made up the senior ranks.
As Hermione stood watching the interactions, apart and alone from her family, she couldn't help but hope there would be karma at some point in their lives. The Malfoys were overdue for some natural justice.
'It was such a dreary day' Hermione lamented to herself, sitting in the sunshine on her parlor chaise with a book laid open in her lap. Life at the manor these past few months was rather mundane, she'd found out quickly. She had her books and a large, private study to fill which was a welcome respite, but for the most part she chose to confine herself to her rooms to avoid any unnecessary run-ins with either of her in-laws or her husband. Not that she'd run into him most likely.
She rarely saw Malfoy except when he was moving through their shared sitting room as he walked straight past her without acknowledging her existence. He'd even stopped coming into her suites after the first month she'd moved in. It'd been awkward at best to let him into her bed and quite frankly as these were her rooms, if he showed up again she'd insist they'd need a separate bedroom far from hers to do these monthly visits. She wasn't going to let him corrupt her only safe haven with memories of these loveless, obligated relations. Now with him basically out of her life, her routine became predictable and unchanged. After all the upheaval of the last few years of her life and constantly being on edge for her safety she thought this would be a welcome state of being.
Except she wasn't safe, not really.
After Lucius released her from the drawing room she'd been informed she no longer had free access to the front doors and gates. If she wished to leave she must speak with her father-in-law.
"He can't do that, Malfoy! This is imprisonment and illegal!"
Malfoy didn't even look up from the papers he was reading through at the desk in their sitting room.
"Then take these matters up with him, wife. I'm not the one who set these rules."
Her palm slammed onto the desk in front of him.
"We didn't agree to this!"
His eyes rose then, a look of detachment was all she could see in them.
"This wasn't discussed in our agreement nor do I have the right to issue you privileges the Lord of the manor must set forth. If you must know I did insist that he allow you to be given floo privileges in the off chance you had a medical emergency and needed to leave to the hospital. Don't bother looking for the floo powder. It's locked away in father's study from even myself."
"You can't keep me locked up here, Malfoy. Someone is bound to notice."
Again, he shrugged indifferently.
"Then my father will deal with it. Your life here will be what you make of it, wife. I suggest finding things to occupy your time productively."
He'd effectively dismissed her then and Hermione stormed from his presence, determined to figure out how to reach Malfoy on a personal level to gain some level of relationship so that he'd intervene on her behalf as he should for his wife to his father.
As if that weren't enough she also had some new psychological developments she had to contend with after the week in the drawing room. It had set in motion a new strange tick of hers once she was through her own doors. Several times a day she'd check to make sure the doors were unlocked or left wide open. Today being no exception when Hermione walked out of her parlor door to find her private dining room door closed. It gave her a pang of anxiett to see it closed. As if she were an intruder in her own rooms, she timidly opened the door to see a flurry of activity happening. Her mother-in-law stood with her back facing her, regal as always in her black dress robes, pointing her wand to create an array of floating candles above the table.
"Lady Malfoy?"
Her mother-in-law barely spared her a glance at her.
"You look like a common book printer with those ink stained fingers."
Hermione almost retorted back that Narcissa always looked like a hag, but what's the use?
"Is there a special occasion I'm unaware of that brought you here?"
Narcissa didn't even bother to address her directly.
"It's tradition for Malfoy couples to take luncheons together weekly in the wife's private rooms."
Hermione blinked in confusion.
"I don't recall seeing such a luncheon on my schedule. Does my husband know of this?"
Narcissa turned her haughty gaze on her then, unamused.
"It will be on your schedule once a week after this week. Of course Draco knows seeing as I told him personally yesterday to add it to his own calendar. Go fashion yourself as the further Lady Malfoy for your luncheon with your husband."
Not interested in arguing further, Hermione returned to her dressing room to change into more formal robes. An hour later saw her dressed in velvet crimson dress robes, with her hair coiled around her head like a crown of tamed curls.
"Find a use for yourself and fetch your husband. The house elves will be ready to serve your meal in fifteen minutes." Narcissa ordered, barely hiding her displeasure at what she wore.
Assuming it was passable, if not well liked, Hermione made her way across the gaudy sitting room she shared with her husband.
Once she stood outside his closed private suit doors she knocked formally but it seemed no sound came from within. Maybe he'd gone out and hadn't informed the house elves of his other plans. Narcissa would be livid if she didn't at least check to make sure he hadn't heard her knocking.
"Malfoy?" She called quietly as she opened the door.
Hermione hadn't expected to see this. No one would expect to walk in on this. She could only stare in horror at the raven haired beauty panting her husband's name while digging her manicured nails into his ivory skinned shoulders, bouncing naked at a frantic pace atop him. Her husband's fingers were bruisingly gripping his mistress's waist, helping her move up and down over him as he moaned up into the ceiling in ecstasy. Hermione was so appalled by the sight she didn't register when Malfoy's gaze dropped to look into Astoria's face with a pained look, rubbing his chest as if it suddenly hurt, only to find his wife standing in stunned silence in the doorway.
"What the fuck?" Malfoy yelled, tossing Astoria off him while throwing a sheet over the pair of them.
Hermione stood frozen, unsure of what to do once she was caught.
"Granger, what the fuck are you doing in my rooms?" He hollered, trying to keep Astoria from view.
At least Astoria had the decency to look absolutely mortified whereas Malfoy looked unabashedly malevolent at her.
"Your mother sent me to fetch you for our weekly scheduled luncheon." Hermione answered weakly.
The look he gave her could've knocked her dead faster than an avada kedavra.
"Get out! Get the fuck out!"
Needing no further prompting Hermione turned and ran down the hall, across their shared sitting room, and into her rooms. Narcissa had yelled after her but she paid her no heed. Once she was in her private suite she did the unthinkable; slammed the doors shut and warded herself inside. Her feet carried her over to the other side of her bed where she hid, curled up around her knees and bawling loudly at the truth she'd silently ignored all this time because she hadn't yet seen it with her own eyes; that even though she didn't want to be married to him she was still bound to a man who detested her. That she had willingly entered into a marriage where she would always be the other woman even if she had Malfoy's last name.
" Get up!"
Hermione's eyes flew open at the sound of her mother-in-law's voice in her private suite. She sat up quickly in the ornate bed to find Narcissa tossing a soft blue dress robe across the foot of it.
"Hurry up, girl!"
"Why?"
Narcissa huffed in exasperation as she pulled Hermione's duvet off, making her push hastily at her sleep gown to make sure she was properly covered.
"Just get up, now!"
Malfoy appeared in her room almost an hour after her abrupt wake up call as she finished dressing in the expensive robe.
"They're here."
Hermione blinked. Who's here?
Narcissa nodded sharply to her son.
"She'll be down shortly."
He cast his glance apathetically at his wife before turning to leave the women alone again. Narcissa spun her on the spot, glaring at Hermione.
"Listen to me, girl, your friends have made the ridiculous decision to send a Ministry representative to check on your welfare. Thank Salazar, Lucius still has enough influence to make sure a family friend will be the one paying the visit. Now, you'll go down there and tell the man that everything is fine and you're quite happy here. Do you understand?"
Hermione's heart jumped in her chest. Harry and Ron had sent help. Of course they hadn't forgotten her and were worried about her. This was her chance to escape at last after months of being trapped. As if Narcissa could see her thoughts on her face, her eyebrows narrowed and her tone lowered menacingly.
"I warn you now, if you compromise this family, it will be detrimental to your living situation here. You're married to the heir of the Malfoy family, bound to him for life. If you think things are terrible with your own set of rooms to do as you please in, I assure you things can be much less hospitable."
Hermione was unmoved. She may not need these rooms in a few minutes so why should she care? With a viper fast hand Narcissa wrapped her talon fingers around her chin and jerked Hermione's face up to stare into her frosted gaze.
"Perhaps Lucius should call in a favor or two to have the Weasley home searched. I've heard Mr. Weasley collects many muggle artifacts for his personal collection and performs illegal spells on them to perform illicit magical capabilities. Enough it would seem to seriously put his career in jeopardy and perhaps spend time in Azkaban. If that's not plenty of motivation for you to comply, I'm sure there could be more found in a search than mere muggle items. Are we clear on this?"
Hermione's heart lurched. Arthur. She knew they'd easily find a multitude of misused artifacts to issue a warrant for his arrest and she knew her mother-in-law wasn't bluffing that Lucius would do whatever need be done to cause them harm if she didn't cooperate. Her change in demeanor seemed to please the appalling woman, especially when she slowly nodded her head in agreement even as Narcissa still held firmly to her chin.
"Then we have an understanding. Finish dressing and fix your hair quickly. We don't want to keep him waiting."
Narcissa practically tossed her face aside before striding from her room.
Hermione couldn't finish tying the sash around her dress robe quickly because she had to focus too hard on keeping herself from crying. How had things turned into this? When she'd agreed to marry Malfoy she assumed she would live a relatively hermit life as her family ignored her existence. Now, it felt like they were going out of their way to torture and mentally beat her into submission.
When the expertly tailored dress robe was completely put together and her hair pinned from her face in an uncoordinated coil that her untaught hands could do, she made her way down to the formal parlor. Malfoy was resting his forearm against the mantle, staring vacantly into the flames. Lucius was conversing quietly with a man in ill-fitting grey robes and a maroon bowler hat in hand while Narcissa sipped tea in a chair near Malfoy.
All four of them turned upon her arrival.
"Ah, Hermione," Lucius said her name so casually it made her skin crawl, "this is a close acquaintance of mine from the Ministry, Mr. Adley. It seems someone has put in a request for the Ministry to check on your well being."
The man looked apologetically over at Lucius.
"Terribly sorry about all this, but there are laws we must follow when a formal request is submitted."
Her father-in-law nodded regally.
"Of course, if you please." He gestured to a formal tea service the house elves had set up around a large circular table she hadn't noticed. The man waved his hand dismissively.
"No, thank you, Lucius. I'm actually required to speak to Mrs. Malfoy, privately."
If any of the Malfoys were upset by this news they didn't show it. Lucius smiled politely to their guest.
"Of course, we shall retire to the drawing room then. Hermione," Lucius leveled her a vacant stare but it held so many sinister promises. "When you've finished, feel free to join us if you wish."
She didn't reply for an awkward amount of time before she found her words in a dull tone.
"Of course."
With nothing else left to say the three other Malfoys swept out the door and left her alone with the Ministry official.
"Um, won't you have a seat?" She motioned to the overstuffed chairs next to the table laden with the extravagant tea set.
"Yes, thank you."
The pair of them moved to sit as he withdrew a quick quote pen and notepad.
"Now, I have a few questions of formality before I let you return to your day, Mrs. Malfoy. Do you mind if I use this quill while we speak?"
She shook her head.
"Excellent. Now, a formal request for a welfare check has been submitted by an anonymous tipster."
Harry and Ron, she's sure of it.
"They claim they haven't seen you in almost three months and you've stopped replying to their letters. Is this true?"
It wasn't true. As far as she knew she sent a letter every week to them. She'd hardly received any letters back and the ones she had made hardly any reference to her lamenting not seeing them nor acknowledging her wish to visit with them. It's then she realized that her father-in-law must be reading her posts and changing her letters. Perhaps he was also withholding any letters being sent to her by her friends.
If she told this to the Ministry official no doubt they'd begin a formal inquiry...which would find nothing, she realized as Narcissa's threatening words returned to her. They'd find nothing and nothing would change except whatever ill intentions her new family could exact on her true family outside these walls. She couldn't let that happen. She...she had to keep them from harm.
Hermione's flat eyes rose to meet the man's and she nodded her head.
"Yes, it's true. I-I don't wish to speak to any of them anymore. I'd like to put that part of my life in the past with everything that happened over the last year. Speaking with them reminds me of all the traumatic things I endured because of their incompetence. I...I simply wasn't sure how to explain my change in opinion of our former friendship."
The words stuck disgustingly to her throat as she said them.
"I thought by not replying to them they would stop writing to me."
Mr. Adley nodded in understanding.
"Not to worry, Mrs. Malfoy. These things happen often. You're not the first person I've visited with who simply wanted to sever ties to past relationships but the other party was unwilling.
"If you'd like," Mr. Adley offered, "I can take a letter in your hand to them when I give them the report of reassurance that you're safe and wishing to remain here undisturbed."
She gulped noisily. This was an unexpected opportunity she couldn't refuse.
"I'd be most appreciative of that. Hattie?"
The little house elf appeared with a crack next to the table.
"Miss called?"
"Yes Hattie, may I have some paper, a quill, and ink please?"
"Right away, miss."
Another crack had the elf vanishing and left the pair in quiet silence after he refused the tea service again. Hattie reappeared minutes later with the requested items.
Hermione turned to the table to write her letter. She knew Harry would see Crookshanks name and know something was wrong given she'd sent him a letter asking him to take care of her cat. As Hermione began to write her note so it would be structured in a way he'd read it as a covert way for her to call for help, a strange thing happened.
The words didn't appear on the page.
She dipped her quill in the ink, thinking it needed more, and attempted to write again.
Nothing.
A chill clutched her chest. They'd given her an anti code quill. She couldn't write any hidden messages to Harry.
She almost turned to the man next to her and confessed every horrible thing she'd experienced since moving into this prison of a home. The image of Arthur Weasley in shackles kept her tongue still. She couldn't see what other choice she had but to write the letter as she had told the man she'd wished to. It would protect them, she thought mournfully as she kept tears from forming in her eyes at all. At least she was still keeping them safe...even if it meant at a distance.
Numbly, she set the quill down and gave the letter to Mr. Adley after placing it in an envelope and wax sealing it with the Malfoy crest pressed into the soft substance. Mr. Adley took the letter, smiling kindly.
"Excellent. I'll be sure it's delivered. Now, I must ask this once more as a protocol. Mrs. Malfoy, are you sure you feel safe here and are you content?"
Her tongue felt thick as she forced herself to reply to the words she desperately didn't want to say.
"Yes, sir, I'm safe and content here."
It hurt like hell to lie.
A week after the unexpected visit a letter appeared on her bed.
Hermione turned the pale, unmarked yellow envelope over, pulled off the wax, and brought out the parchment within. It was in Harry's scrawl.
'Hermione,
We don't know what happened but Adley told us about his welfare check and gave us your letter. We were only concerned for your well being and thought Malfoy was keeping you against your will, which is why we placed the formal request. We won't lie that we're shocked and heartbroken you feel that way. Why didn't you tell us before? We've been through so much together that we assumed you'd be open to tell us anything, even if it's that you're angry with us for what happened over the past year. Your letter was a bit of a punch to the gut to be honest, but we'll respect your wishes. If you ever need us, Hermione, we're only a letter away.
Take care.
Your friends always,
Harry and Ron'
She clenched the letter between her hands, bringing it to her lips as she silently keened into the last letter she'd probably ever receive from him, knowing she'd likely kept them all from harm again but placed herself firmly in Malfoy's grasp.
She tried to run away that next month.
She didn't go to Harry or Ron, assuming Malfoy would expect her to after the welfare check and putting them in danger. Instead, she managed to steal a bit of floo powder Malfoy accidentally left out after Astoria paid another nightly call. While he was preoccupied she flooed to the Leaky Cauldron under a heavy cloak so no one could notice her before making her way into muggle London.
She transfigured her cloak into a normal muggle trench coat to keep her profile hidden and walked several miles until she reached her destination. The shelter was as she remembered in her youth when she and her mum volunteered there. Everyone was as kind as she remembered, giving her clothes, food, and helping her find a safe place to stay for the time being.
The plan she devised to get to Harry's was easy. She'd stay in the cheap hotel room the shelter paid a week's worth of boarding for. Then, once she felt certain Lucius and Malfoy would've already sent someone to see if she was at Grimmauld Place and found nothing, she'd walk there.
It would take most of a day for her to reach the house but at least Harry would help her escape the Malfoy tyranny she'd married into once she explained everything. He'd understand and help her find a solution to everything she reassured herself, as she sat in the middle of the hotel bed, staring off at the white dingy wall. A gentle knock on the door and a soft 'housekeeping' made her jump. Timidly, Hermione approached the unlocked door, still fearful of any locked or confined space, and opened it enough to show her face.
"Oh, no thank you," she read the white name tag the older blonde haired woman wore, "Janet. I'm not in need of housekeeping today."
Janet the housekeeper nodded a little, a knowing look in her eyes as she glanced up and down Hermione's mostly hidden figure. She'd probably seen similar situations of women and men hiding from domestic issues that had been sent here from the shelter.
"Not to worry, love. Have you eaten yet?"
Surprised by the question, Hermione shook her head. The food the shelter gave her would feed a person for a few days. The idea of traversing out to find food, even in muggle London before it was time to go to Harry's, terrified her. Anyone could see her and she knew Lucius had many eyes in high places at the Ministry of Magic.
Janet smiled kindly as she offered her a thermos.
"It's not much, some beef and vegetable stew, but it's hot."
Hermione gratefully took the thermos.
"Thank you." She murmured, trying to keep the tears at bay.
It'd been a long time since someone did something for her just to be kind, even as small a gesture as this. Janet's smile widened.
"Just leave it outside the door when you finish and I'll fetch it later."
The compassionate housekeeper left her then to move onto the next room to clean. Hermione sat on the hotel bed and inhaled the soup, relishing in its taste before placing the thermos outside the door.
A knock came the next day and Hermione peeked out but no one was there. She was about to close the door when she glanced down. There was a seran wrapped sandwich, a small bag of crisps, and a bottle of cheap muggle whiskey with a note attached.
Curiously, Hermione picked these items up and brought them inside. Once she'd closed the door but left it unlocked she laid her gifts atop of the bathroom vanity before taking the note in hand to read.
'You looked like you could use this yesterday.'
Hermione's heart felt full from Janet's random acts of kindness to her.
Later that evening she found that the whiskey burned her tongue uncomfortably but Janet had been right about needing this. She wanted to not think about the constant apprehension she felt of possibly being found, about the consequences for running away that could come, and the fear of her father-in-law's wrath after successfully hiding for three days now.
The whiskey was working its magic, slowly unfurling through her body and making her feel very relaxed for the first time in, hell, over a year probably. She'd almost fallen asleep when a knock came at her door.
She assumed Janet had returned and opened the door with a smiling face...to a pair of cold eyed blonde men.
They'd found her.
Terror filled her entire frozen being for a minute before Hermione attempted to slam the door shut. Malfoy's hand threw it wide open and he walked her back into the room, an unreadable expression on his face. Horror at the realization of the situation made a vicious shiver run up her back as her father-in-law followed them inside with a look of disgust at their surroundings.
"My, how the mighty have fallen, girl." He jeered at her, taking in the half empty whiskey bottle on her bedside table.
Hermione said nothing, gasping for breath as she stared wide eyed at Malfoy while he breathed heavily through his nose, the anger beginning to burn heatedly in his eyes.
"Well," Lucius began, finally drawing Hermione's attention to him, "I hope you enjoyed your little impromptu holiday, but it's time we head home."
Go back? With them?
Never.
Her wand was out in a flash, pointing threateningly at her father-in-law.
"I'm not going back with you."
The two men said nothing for a long moment as they watched her stand trembling before them.
"Draco," Lucius said impassively as he laid the silver snake head atop his cane on his son's shoulder.
"Take care of this problem or I will." He whispered loudly enough for Hermione to hear.
An involuntary shudder skidded across her body at the sinister words, watching Lucius leave the two of them alone.
Malfoy glared hatefully at her.
"What the hell were you thinking, you bloody fool? Do you realize how much legal trouble my father could be in for leaving the manor? Consider yourself lucky he was able to bribe the auror in charge of tracking his whereabouts to say nothing. If you come with me now without fuss I'm sure he'll be more forgiving than if you fight this."
Hermione, dizzy from the effects of the whiskey, let the tears from the last few months finally pour down her face as she broke down before her husband.
"Malfoy, please let me go. You don't want me as your wife and neither do your parents. You have Astoria to keep you company and she can fulfill whatever Lady Malfoy roles you wish her to in my stead with my blessings. I won't tell anyone what's happened during my time at your manor, I swear. Please let me leave here and go stay with Harry."
He snorted unkindly.
"As if it's as simple as that. There's no running from our situation, Granger. We're bound together until death in all manner of ways. The sooner you accept that as I've regretfully resigned myself to, the better life will be for the both of us."
She felt her fear shift suddenly to anger in her alcohol induced state.
"You want me to accept that your father forcefully made me stay in a room your mad aunt sliced up my arm and tortured me in? That I should accept lying to my friends so that they will no longer contact me because your parents promised to do horrendous harm to them? Or even better, I should accept being called a mudblood and treated like chattel by you while you fuck your mistress every night and your demented parents try to psychologically twist me me into docile obedience?"
Malfoy's entire demeanor changed as he stood menacingly over her even with her wand separating them.
"You don't seem to understand your predicament and mine. No matter where you go, Granger, my father will find you. Until he's exhausted all avenues to rid us of this binding vow and our legal contracts he will keep you close to hedge his bets. If we cannot be unbound he's intent to make the best of the situation by making our marriage work in his favor. Neither you nor I can change his mind on the matter regardless of what we personally want. Quite frankly, I don't give a fuck if you leave to live with Potter and never darken my doorstep again. That's not the reality we live in. Don't make this any more difficult for you or I than it has to be."
His words were like ice but they burned a fire through her.
"Don't you feel anything through our binding of what I've gone through since walking through those gates, Malfoy? Have your parents raised you to be so unkind and hard hearted you can't even have compassion for me as a person, let alone your wife?"
His face didn't change at all as he looked her over distastefully.
"Even if I did nothing will change, wife. Not for you nor myself. You married the heir to the Malfoy estate. We don't have the luxury of simply walking away from our duties when it's inconvenient for us. That includes you as you signed the papers saying you agreed to the role you're to play within the household regardless of Astoria's presence."
"You never said any of this Malfoy when we spoke of our bargain! Not once did you say I will have to not only play Lady Malfoy but also accept another woman in this marriage!"
Malfoy seemed to be losing his temper as his nostrils flared.
"I told you on our wedding night about Astoria, what more do you want? It's more than most women are told by their husbands. You're too clever to not catch on and snoop about so I assumed being honest with you when you asked was the best choice. You're making me regret that choice with your inane prattling.
"As to being Lady Malfoy you said you read the damn paperwork. How is it my fault you weren't diligent enough to comprehend what it was you read? It doesn't matter though. You said so yourself you read the papers and found them magically and legally sound. Once my father comes to the same realization he'll make sure your leaving is not a possibility. In the meantime if you make yourself useful and don't do absurd things like run away, he might be more prone to give you things to make your life more comfortable at the manor."
She refused to accept that there wasn't another way.
Her wand poked his chest, hard.
"Back up or I'll hex you, ferret." She hissed threateningly.
Malfoy smirked, almost as if he found juvenile amusement in this sick banter.
"There's that idiotic Gryffindor bravery. You've been so subjugated of late I'd thought you'd turned Hufflepuff. Well, wife, shall we see what happens when you break this part of our vows by causing bodily harm? Whom do you think will hurt more, myself or you?"
She didn't get a chance to reply when the door was flung open.
Janet stood in the doorway, holding her broom threateningly before her.
"Oye! Who do you think you are? This is a private business. You can't barge-"
The moment was so quick Hermione barely had time to react in her drunken addlebrained state. Malfoy had snatched her wand from her hand before spinning around to stupefy the poor muggle woman. Hermione, much too slow to react, had tried to leap past him to protect her new friend but ended up with Malfoy's arms wrapped around her as the feeling of apparating stole her breath.
Lucius strolled into her study with an unreadable look on his face. Hermione, currently translating ancient ruins as a renewed hobby of hers, glanced up upon his sudden appearance and felt her body stiffen involuntarily. Any time her father-in-law came within sight of her in a nonpublic setting it immediately set her heart racing.
"Mrs. Malfoy." He greeted, coldly.
Not mudblood or girl. Hmm, interesting.
"Lord Malfoy." She returned just as unfeelingly.
Lucius began to walk the room she'd recently finished decorating, apparently taking note of her proclivity for Georgian style of decor as well as a color scheme befitting the era.
"I've come to discuss a business proposal for you."
Hermione physically bit her lip to keep from immediately barking no. Lucius smirked a little, an almost look of praise for her emotional control. Like she had choice but to comply locked away in this wretched penitentiary as she had been for almost a year since she first stepped foot inside the doors. It'd become even more unbearable after he locked her away in these rooms for an entire month without her wand when Malfoy returned with her from her attempted escape.
"My trial is set to begin in two weeks' time."
He'd turned to face her then, a look of estimating cleverness hid his true intentions well.
"I find myself uncertain of the success of my solicitors ability to win my case without enough added testimony from witnesses."
Ah, they came to the source of this impromptu meeting. He could see realization dawn on her face.
"I'd like to offer what you so desire; peace and privacy. You'll complete your training with my wife so you can attend the three main social events the Malfoy family holds every year and play the part you're expected to on those occasions. Aside from that the other duties you'd be expected to perform shall be postponed until you're the official Lady Malfoy. You'll be allowed to spend your time as you see fit. In exchange, I want you to write a letter of recommendation for leniency to the Wizengamot."
Hermione's eyebrows rose.
"And if I refuse?"
Lucius's eyes flickered violently for a moment before steeling themselves to indifference.
"I'm reaching an olive branch out to you, Mrs. Malfoy, by offering the life of solidarity and books you crave in exchange for a letter in favor of my release."
Hermione scowled.
"You mean you're asking me to bend my morals to keep you from facing the consequences of your immoral choices."
His hand squeezed the solid silver snake head atop his cane, his rage seemingly struggling to stay in check. After a few uneven breaths he stood up to his full height.
"I'll leave you to consider my offer. However, think it over carefully, Mrs. Malfoy. This offer will not stand for long."
He turned and stormed from her rooms, leaving her to her thoughts.
Hermione blinked several times as she pulled herself back to the present, standing at the end of the hallway, looking out across the manor's still neatly manicured gardens. How much things had changed in two years' time. Her assistance with Lucius' secured her hermit life she'd always imagined for herself at the manor minus these few parties like tonight. Her husband lived his own life and the two of them rarely interacted if at all. At least she was living the life she had chosen out of the other options that she was given.
She sighed silently to herself, knowing her reprieve must be short lived. It wouldn't be long before she was sought out by Narcissa, wondering why she was here when she should be inside, instead of eluding her family duties. Without delaying any longer Hermione returned to the grand ballroom, slipping amongst the guests and pretending to be a doting daughter-in-law.
