Hermione had managed with little effort to jump from her window's bedroom. Strong bipedal paws landed with ease unto the grass down below. Mindful to not being seen by anyone, she passed next to the family's greenhouse that led to the nearest side of the forest, holding her breath as she ran through it. Luck was on her side, for the detection Charms didn't activate. It seemed likely she was allowed into the grounds no matter the shape or form of her body.
The sensation of freedom overtook her as soon as she was surrounded by nothing but trees and untamed wilderness. Perhaps, the lack of freedom to come and leave whenever she desired so, was gradually turning suffocating. And she didn't resent it till now. Despite having not experienced any dull moment in this mansion, the fact that she had to be on her guard all the time was becoming quite exhausting. She missed her autonomy now more than ever.
Being here alone, suddenly felt a new and so welcomed experience.
Shining golden eyes looked around, taking in the scenery. Hermione was amazed by how acute and precise her vision was. Everything was so bright in a place of almost complete darkness. All this time she thought the reason for the brightness was because of the lights in the room or at the dungeons at Hogwarts what allowed her to see clearly. But no, these eyes were made to see in the darkness.
'It'll explain why Lupin never struggled to pursue us in the forest.' Thinking of Remus didn't bother her as much as before. She still blamed him, and part of her will never entirely forgive him. After all, it was his mistake that triggered this chain of events. But the fact that her stomach didn't boil anymore every time his name would come up in her thoughts was already evidence of some degree of acceptance.
Her gaze drifted downwards; the ground seemed so far now in comparison with her human size. Her long strong paws pressed against soft mud. She enjoyed the cool sensation as the mud simmered through the slits of her paws. There was something otherworldly in feeling the soil under her feet for the first time.
Her paws carried further into the forest. She throttled with her head pointing upwards, smelling the sweet scent of wildflowers and the scent of bitter wood. The smells could almost be tasted on the roof of her muzzle. She could hear the faint squeaks, bellows, and screeches of woodland animals. However, none seemed to be nearby for she couldn't see anything.
Her senses had never been so keen.
Wanting to see what else this body could do; Hermione ran as fast as she could. Her paws kissed the land, branding the ground with the shape of her steps. Wind wiped across her face and brushed through her thick layer of fur. The increasing excitement ran in her veins as her muscles stretched and contracted with every push. With her strong heart and steady breathing, she continued pushing forward.
She moved with such ease as if she has been doing it for a very long time. Which it was strange considering she had never attempted to get acquainted with this body. Did it come by instinct? Like a baby that doesn't understand the concept of crawling. Yet, they do it naturally nonetheless? Hermione wondered.
She woefully regretted the many opportunities she had before to see what this body was able to. She doesn't remember when was the last time she had so much fun without restrictions of any sort.
Everything felt amazing. Regardless of the ubiquitous longing inside her chest, Hermione managed to put it behind for a moment, and completely bask in this new experience.
The sound of flapping wings reached her sensitive ears. The werewolf turned her head upwards. Bats were filtering across her head, making her gradually decreased her speed. She watched the dark and large colony of bats screeching and flying among the trees. Her ears twitched at the sound of insects droning incessantly.
Attracted by the chirping of cicadas, the werewolf stood up in two paws and kept walking till she found herself standing on knee-high grass of an endless forest. The grass still held the warmth of late afternoon sunlight. In the forest's darkness, green tiny lights ignited by the ones and twos. Not a second later, as her body pushed the straight lines of grass, awakening the little insects from its slumber, green lights appeared all around her.
She had never seen so many fireflies gathered in one place. It felt like she was having her own personalize little show of stars. The orchestra of cicadas accompanied the display of lights, and the hoot of the owls chimed in from time to time.
'Incredible…'
A child-like sense of wonderment filled her chest, enveloping her consciousness. What a foreigner feeling that was! Very strange but not unwelcomed. She embraced it with open arms, for deep in her mind she knew that a feeling like this might never come again, at least not soon. And without any other thought in her mind, she slowly lay down on the grass. Enthralled by the inky sky and its infinite, with bright, flashing stars and planets traveling across space.
Her muscles lost its tightness, kneading the tension away by only lying still. Her heartbeat played a slow rhythmic tune that lulled her into a stage of full relaxation. She didn't know how much time when her eyelids became heavier. In no time she drifted to sleep.
When Hermione opened her eyes again, she saw the moon wasn't in the sky anymore. That could only mean the night was soon to become morning. She needed to go back to her room before the sun came out.
But before the werewolf could take the first step, she realized there was no path to go back to.
She was lost.
Pushing down any twinge of anxiety, Hermione took in a deep breath. The smell of wood and green fill her lungs, but there was something else too lingering in between, she couldn't tell what though. The young witch inhaled deeply again; it was something metallic, like iron maybe. Being the only clue to find her way back, Hermione followed the smell.
She looked up to the sky again; there wasn't any sign that sunlight was about to come out soon. Stars kept shining, but not that bright either. The sense of urgency started to creep into Hermione. She kept moving hastily, not willing to risk being transformed back in the wilderness.
The smell started to become more intense as Hermione approached.
There a was worn path with the tall grass and the small plants on both sides were roughly mangled, her instincts told her that something or someone passed by recently, but the smell were many to distinguish which one belonged to what exactly. When stepped on the path, she flinched at the little sharp things incrusting in her paws. Hermione saw what it seemed like several pieces of dried but pointy bark scattered all over. Like someone was purposely removed the bark from the trees.
The werewolf took a deep breath again. The air smelled of dirt and food, something akin to butter. Perhaps bread. Another breath, even deeper this time. The fur in her neck stood up by instinct, Hermione growled as she recognized the metallic smell. It wasn't iron like she thought at the beginning. It was copper.
The tang of blood.
She looked around, searching for another telling of what might lie ahead of, but she found none. Driven by curiosity and lack of direction, the werewolf ventured forward.
Her ears twitched at the faint noises of whimpers. The little cries of something or someone became clearer with every step she took forward.
Hermione prostrated herself in four legs and approached carefully. A gust of wind ran through her body and with it a foul stench. She froze in place, pointing her snout upwards, she breathed in once more. The acrid smell was barely tolerable.
It smelled of the dead, cut flesh, and the pungent smell of body stench.
Death smelled as if the very odor itself penetrated her nostrils and tried to scoop the insides of her face.
The werewolf flashed her sharp teeth in recognition of the body stench.
'…Greyback!'
It was the small human-like cry what drove the girl to approach closer. She put her paws on the ground with the grace of a feline stalking her prey, mindful to no step on dried leaves or twigs. Not a moment later, her eyes became bigger as she drank the sight before her. A werewolf, of grey almost white fur, stood up in two legs, with its arm raised on the air holding an almost dying elf hanging from between his fingers.
Her eyes drifted at the ground, where tiny little elves' corpses, some limbless, others headless lied next to his paws. Yellow eyes narrowed, studying from afar that none of the bodies were eaten, not even gnawed. Yet, the blood was still gushing from a couple of them. Greyback dismembered them as some sort of sick entertainment.
The whole scenery was utterly gruesome, this was a new level of cruelty that she never imagined could ever exist.
Despite the overwhelming stench of blood and the disgusting smell of Greyback, Hermione could barely detect it, but it was there in the air. The smell of spices and roast. Those elves used to work in the kitchens. The little one hanging from Greyback's hand had the distinctive smell of sweet bread. Hermione noticed that his free arm was broken, making it impossible for him to do apparition.
'He probably broke everyone's hands before becoming a werewolf.'
Horror and terror were on the little elf's face. He shut his big eyes tightly as Greyback enclosed his fragile neck between his long claws. Just when Hermione thought he was about to rip off his head, the werewolf stopped.
Hemione, confused by this, observed with interest. Her ears moved at the sound of the grey maned werewolf taking in short sniffs multiple times before she could realize what was happening. Greyback turned around only to set his black eyes on her.
Anger at herself was the first emotion to invade her for being too stupid. 'If I can smell him, he can smell me…' But then it quickly morphed to fear.
The werewolf released the elf from his grip, his frail body fell onto the rest corpses. Greyback's savage eyes focused on the girl. Hermione saw recognition flashing on his bright eyes. He knew who she was. And yet, his threatening demeanor didn't diminish in the slightest. On the contrary, Greyback opened his mouth displaying his deadly teeth into what seemed a menacing grin. There were streams of saliva running down his lower jaw to the floor.
Hermione growled in warning. Instinctively, she raised hackles to make herself look bigger. She flashed her equally sharp teeth and showed her claws by extending her arms.
The younger werewolf growled again, loudly this time. But the only thing she earned was a mocking snort.
Though Hermione's claws were long and sharp, they were nothing compared to Greyback's, his claws were twice as long, thicker and sharper. Two sets of deadly weapons, held by two strong limps. Greyback's bulky size overshadowed hers with ease.
For every step the grey werewolf took, she took one step behind. Hermione knew she wasn't a match for him. At least, not in this body. If he wanted to kill her, there was nothing stopping him from doing it.
Sensing the deadly intent in those eyes, adrenaline-filled she turned around and ran.
She ran as fast as she could. Her eyes drifted upwards. The grey of dawn was already in the sky.
She didn't need to look back to know Greyback was approaching fast, as his foul stench became more pronounced by the second. Her legs pushed abruptly to the right, taking a sharp turn on the left. Her first thought was to go back to the mansion, but she didn't know where to go. There wasn't any landmark on her sight that could guide her, and the only smell she could sense was the stench on the wolf behind her.
Her heart hammed against her chest. Panic was cursing through her body, halting any rational thought but to stay alive whatever the cost.
Feeling his presence almost at her talons again, Hermione took another sharp turn. This time, as her limps tilted 30° to press against the ground and impulse on the contrary direction, she caught a glimpse of sharp claws almost grasping her head. If she hasn't lowered her head at the last moment, Fenrir would have managed to severely hurt her at the very least. Because he was so close to catching her, the grey werewolf lost his balance, rolling against the ground.
Having been able to put a little distance between them, Hermione launched her body to a tree, desperately clawing her way up. Her claws pierced the bark, pieces were shot like water when it sprinkles, all in different directions. Her breath was ragged, but not from lack of oxygen. She was never felt so vulnerable. Desperation and fear fueled her efforts to climb, but ultimately, she was too slow.
Everything happened so fast that she barely registered the strong grip of his hands pulling her down, and in a quick move, his claws painfully scratched her back. By his strength alone she was dragged down and threw on across the opposite side. She landed against a large rock incrusted in the ground.
Hermione howled at the impact.
She blinked several times, trying to dispel the blurry vision. Her feet scramble on the ground, urging her body to stand up and run. She stood up as fast as she could, balancing her weight while her eyesight slowly recovered from the dizziness.
Greyback watched her struggling with cruel amusement in his eyes, she could smell it, taste it even. There was blood in his fangs, dripping from his chin. He licked his claws for some reason Hermione didn't understand.
He was having fun with her, just like he had fun with the elves.
The werewolf lunged forward with one arm aiming at her. It a successive movement the girl used her claws to throw dust from the ground into Fenrir's eyes. Blinding him momentarily, she took this chance to run. Hermione focused on her surroundings again, there was nothing but the sound of running water on her left side.
A clearing and a small creek came in sight, she ran next to the stream knowing it passed close to the mansion's grounds, all she needed was to follow it. Fear was feeding the adrenaline in her body, unable to feel anything but terror.
Hermione looked behind her as she ran. There weren't any signs that Greyback was following her. She took no relief on that as her instincts kept screaming to keep running. Her eyes looked up to the sky, sunlight was about to come anytime now. The young witch continued running as fast as her limps allowed her to, no hesitating in speed.
'If I can make to the mansion then I can…Just a little longer.'
Out of nowhere, a strong force came from her right and collided against her. It knocked her to the ground; she rolled several times before she came to a stop. The girl made the effort to push herself up, but before she could even raise her head, Greyback was already on top of her. He grabbed her by the neck, then dragged her violently to the water stream.
Before Hermione could see where he was dragging her, the young werewolf was already submerged in water. She kicked, clawed and pushed, whatever she could do to escape his grip. What she could only do was to watch the air leaving her lungs. Fenrir had a large part of his weighing down her body.
After a few seconds, he pulled out her head only to submerge it again.
The more she struggled; the more Fenrir's grip on her neck tightened. The horrible sensation of water entering her lungs raised the panic in her body. She felt close to drowning, but Greyback pulled her out again. Then, he pushed her again.
Fear like this, colder than ice and holding her heart in a vice grip. The blood in her veins felt like it was coated in black ice. Her stomach was iron, heavy, and solid. As if death, the thing, the person she has been eluding for so long wished to greet her for a final time. She felt all this before. So many times she has feared for her life, so many times she was at the edge of life and death. This would not be the last one. This was nothing, nothing…
'NOTHING!'
'I WON'T DIE!'
Hermione clawed the arms that were holding her, piercing the thick skin with her claws, blood started to drip. Greyback was about to hit back when the first rays of light appeared in the sky. And with that, the transformation began, his limps started to become less sharp and human, his weight and strength rapidly decrease, Hermione could feel it. She quickly flexed her hindleg, then with a short but strong kick on his chest, she pushed him away from her. At that very moment, the transformation began in her body as well.
Hermione crawled out of the creek, curving herself in a spine wrecking cough fit. Water still lingered in her lungs. Spatters of saliva and water continue falling from her mouth till she transformed back to her original body
Greyback was already on his feet, he clutched his chest tightly, while blood dribbled between his chest and the palm of his hand, it went down all the way to his crotch. Another trail of blood ran from his wrist to his elbow. Hermione turned to look at him, his demeanor hadn't changed in slightest, the man had a vicious look in his eyes. He licked his lips lasciviously, looking her up and down like a piece of meat, his tongue licked over his bloodied teeth.
"I told you." He rasped as if there were dust in his voice. "Sooner or later I was going to get even, but now I—" A flame hit him on the chest, charring his skin just like Hermione had done in her hand during her training with Bellatrix. He howled in pain, stepping backward, pushed by the pain and the force of the impact. Black eyes widened in shock, not expecting the wandless magic.
Quickly, his face morphed into rage, almost matching the dislocated look on the girl. His eyes narrowed as he saw the girl raising her arm again, sensing another attack Greyback ran and launched himself at her, his arm extended ready to neutralize the girl's hand.
From the tip of her finger, a light-blue jet came out, sharp like a dagger. It happened so fast that it took him seconds to realize what she had done.
His arm was severed. It fell with a soft thud on the ground.
If there was any howl of pain, she never heard it. If there was blood sprinkling on her face, she never felt it. Her voice, loud as the roar of a lion, and with her eyes fixed on the target, Hermione pronounced the next spell.
"Diffindo!"
This time the cut draw vertically on his chest a perfectly straight line, it wasn't deep yet enough to stagger any step forward he wished to take. The witch pushed the man to the ground by another swift motion of her finger.
Calmly, she approached the struggling body on the ground. She loomed over him, gazing down with hate and disgust. She watched his mouth being filled with his own blood, quickly coming out from the corner of his lips.
He bared his teeth painted with blood, then opened his mouth as if he was trying to speak out loud, but the gushing blood escaping from it hindered any of speech.
His eyes became bigger as the girl's feet loomed above his neck. The same eyes almost bulged out of his skull as the girl stepped on it multiple times, her heel digging deep, pushing the Adam apple. Her vicious kicks stopped till she heard the soft crack of his collapsed trachea. Gurgling sounds were the only noise he could make in a futile attempt to gasp for air.
Brown eyes never strayed from the desperate, fearful ones as she pointed her finger at him. Then, Hermione hit him with all she had. Her arm moved in the air like an Orchestra's director does when they are playing a rapid melody. Up and down, left and right. Her finger moved with precision and strength, her wrist with grace and ease. She burned and cut him. She did it till her arm hurt. Till the emotion of how indefensible and pathetic he made her feel was erased from her present consciousness. Till the panic that still gripped her heart finally decided to release its hold. Till the moment Hermione felt she had recovered her position of power, that's when she stopped.
If there was any moment during her attacks, that Greyback managed to utter a word, if he begged for mercy, Hermione never heard it. For she could only hear the beating of her heart and the sound of her voice casting spell after spell.
She stared at his face. Until the light of his fearful eyes faded away, leaving an empty body behind.
Slowly, she turned around. Her steps were short but firm. Suddenly, the so marvelous feeling of cool mud under her soils became more of an irritating sensation, something that no one should experience.
The running water felt cold to her feet. She sat in it and looked the water wash away the blood on her body.
To Hermione, it felt like the air itself had rushed out of the room after she finished her side of the story. There was a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away no matter how many times she swallowed. She didn't know what to expect from Voldemort, but she knew it wouldn't be a pat on the back.
"Greyback was very violent. A savage animal of sorts. That was the main reason why I wanted him in my front lines." Piercing red-eyes set on her. "Nevertheless, he never attacked one of mine. Ever."
As her gaze dropped to the carpet, she tried to swallow again that cotton on her throat. Right now, not even water could bring relief to her dried throat. She understood how bad it looked for her from the outsider's perspective. While she ended up having some injuries, there was no point of comparison for what Greyback received in retaliation. It was hard to explain her actions at this point, without looking completely innocent.
As if Voldemort had read her mind, he added. "Lucius came before you, he filled me on what he saw. He mentioned the body was hard to recognize."
"My Lord, I swear to you that everything I did was in self-defense." Her words uttered with utmost sincerity yet didn't earn any reaction from the man in front of her, who remained displeased at her actions. "But if you doubt of my words, I'll lower my Occlumency shields for you to see yourself." Hermione dug her nails into her palms, scared to have Voldemort's presence in her mind. But if there was a chance that could free her of punishment, she was willing to submit herself to the probably painful experience.
But when she raised her head to face him, Voldemort wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking down at the snake on his lap. The dark wizard's lips moved ever so lightly. His fingers barely touch the scales of the snake's skin, she found it mesmerizing how he touched her so delicately, almost like a lover.
There was nothing she could do or say but sit still and watch the subtle exchange between master and pet. Watching them like this, Hermione wondered how much influence had Nagini over Voldemort.
When his sight returned to the girl's direction, the expression on his face had slightly faded.
"Did something else happened?" He asked.
There were things that Hermione wasn't aware of. She didn't know that her hands were shaking, in contrast with the apparent calmness on her face. She was sure the only injury she had was a small bruise on her back and not the angry open wound that she actually had. Neither was she aware that there was a bite in her forearm which begged for medical attention. And more importantly, she never heard the distinctive sound of apparition a few meters from her. Nor the loud gasp that came seconds after.
Silent steps a blonde woman approached the girl sitting in the water. Her eyes remained fixed on the small body, for her mind couldn't bear to gaze at the dismembered body a few meters from her.
"Granger..." Her voice was soft, almost tentative.
Blue eyes searched for the girl's face. Which she hid behind a curtain of wet brown hair, where mud and dried leaves had made a home. Her pale body was painted with red marks, purple bruises and open wounds. Very slowly, Narcissa kneeled beside the girl, and put aside her brown hair. The girl's expression was drawn with an eerie calmness, but her eyes betrayed her brittle confidence. Exhaustion was present in those brown orbs, there was more blackness than brown inside those eyes. Said eyes were rimmed with red and gray.
Narcissa has seen it before, in her husband and in her sister. By now she could recognize it in anyone by a mile away.
The aftershocks of battle. Sometimes not even the most seasoned wizards could avoid such jarring feelings that the fights often brought after.
Hermione came back to reality blinking away whatever thoughts clouded her mind. She turned to look at the woman and stared at her for what felt a long time as if she was trying to discern whether or not she was hallucinating.
"What are you doing here?" There was no emotion in her voice. There was nothing else betraying in her face that didn't already her eyes betrayed.
Narcissa extended her hand, an invitation to get out of the water. Hermione untangled her arms and accepted the help. As the girl stepped outside, Narcissa's eyes went bigger at the mark of teeth on the brunette's forearm. "Did he bite you?!" She asked with alarm in her voice.
The girl looked at the bite on her right limp, it was relatively shallow but it still managed to break the skin. And just for a second, the thought of pretending to be equally or even more surprised than Narcissa crossed her mind.
But the lie could carry her only so far.
Hermione was so exhausted from all this.
"Yeah… I think he did." She said, not sharing the same worried face that the woman had.
"Don't you realize what this means? Granger, I don't have anything to stop the infection of lycanthropy. The only one is Severus and you cannot go to an hospi—"
"It's fine. I'm fine."
Narcissa stopped rambling at the unfazed expression the brunette maintained. Up to that moment, her gaze finally drifted from the girl's face. She looked at the girl's body up and down. Then, she took one short glance at what was supposed to be Greyback's body.
The blonde woman took a step back, her eyebrows slightly raised. "You are already infected with lycanthropy." Her voice was no more than a whisper. Confusion and shock were painted on her features. Her lips moved in silence as if she was about to speak, but in the end, she gave up.
She nodded, almost imperceptibly. "That'll explain why I'm naked." An attempt to smile was made, but a grimace took shape on her lips instead. The girl pressed her lips into a thin line, as an attempt to hide the shivers caused by the cold.
It'll be months later that she was willing to recognize that the origin of those tremors was because she was afraid.
Narcissa, finally broke out from her daze, quickly undid the knot on her neck and removed her cloak, then place it on the girl's back. "Let's go. Your injuries need treatment."
Considering how unnerving this all was, for the first time, the brunette didn't argue.
Her body and mind craved for at least a little respite before she did anything else. "I want to go to my room."
Narcissa kept silent, she pulled the wand from her pocket. In a blink, they were outside of Hermione's room.
"I set extra anti-apparition charms and jinxes since I arrived." The girl weakly said, anticipating Narcissa's inquisitive gaze of why she couldn't apparate inside a room from her own house.
Once she crossed the threshold, Hermione headed to the bathroom "I'm going to clean myself." She didn't wait for a reply.
As soon as the door was closed. Like a punch in the stomach, reality hit her; finally breaking all her barriers of self-control and strong will. They crashed like crystals in the face of her consciousness. In two large steps, she was grasping the sink, using the cold edges as support while her stomach emptied itself.
It is amazing what a body can resist when it is filled with adrenaline, seconds ago she felt relatively fine. But now that her body finally stopped pumping that lifesaving chemical and her heart rate returned to normal, her body was started to suffer the burnout of her fight and the traumatic experience of almost dying, again.
Hermione was dry-heaving, but waves nausea kept coming. Despite having no food to throw, her stomach kept convulsing till yellow-colored saliva came out.
The pain came striking from all sides. Though it was hardly a walk in the park to have her back scratched, a bite in her arm and several bruises, she noticed that her tolerance to pain was getting better and better.
She inhaled and exhaled, then closed her eyes and waited for the waves to reside.
She inhaled and exhaled, then closed her eyes and waited for the waves to fade.
She breathed again, deeper, calmer.
Brown eyes opened; she was greeted by her own reflection. Her hands gripped the edge tightly, till her knuckles turned white. She looked into the mirror as if she didn't recognize the person in there. She was 16 years old but felt like she aged 10 years in a short span of 3 months. She didn't look like a teenager anymore.
Her eyelids closed again, flashes of Greyback being butchered by her cursed through her mind.
'What happened...What did I do?'
"I killed Greyback…" She murmured. "I killed Greyback because he tried to kill me."
Her mind felt dizzy, disoriented, her thoughts were disjointed and barely coherent. All the raw emotions were stepping on her abdomen. She sat on the edge of the bathtub. Her hands ran through her head were mud and leaves hanged in among her hair. She didn't care. Her mind was measuring the consequences of her actions, seeing all the possible outcomes that her brain could come up with.
The throbbing in her chest didn't help either, now that she remained unmoving, it was becoming harder to ignore. Fortunately for her when she reached the lowest drawer under the sink, there was a small vial to numb her.
A sudden knock on the door startled her. "Miss Granger, is everything alright?"
Narcissa was in her room…
A cold shiver ran from the nape of her neck to her heels. The gut-wrenching sensation came back doubled.
Narcissa saw her.
'Narcissa knows!'
"Y-Yes! I-I'll be out in a moment."
"Do you need clothes?"
"No. It is fine."
'I'm fine, everything is bloody fine!'
She eyed the shower. "I'll be out in 5 minutes."
With her hand on the doorknob, Narcissa had half-mind to enter and truly verify if the girl was indeed fine. The thought died once she heard the shower running.
With a heavy sigh, she stepped back. She clasped her fingers, calling her personal elf.
"Filqui."
The small elf appeared in a blink of an eye; ready to take her mistress orders.
"How may Filqui serve you, mistress?"
The blonde woman regarded her personal elf and the hunching posture she carried. The tired eyes and the fallen ears said everything. The elf was mourning the loss of her friends. "Bring me a Garrow Potion and some Amadoubil with two cloths." She took a quick glance at the bathroom door. "After that, go and tell my husband to send someone to clean werewolf remains. It is northeast from here, just tell him to follow the creek up north."
With a nod and a soft 'pop', the elf left the room.
As the sound of falling water continued, Narcissa survey around her guest's living quarters. Her eyes were filled with curiosity and a certain reservation. The largest window was fully open, the lower end of the curtain had a stain of moisture usually caused by the morning dew. One flip of her hand to the left and the window closed. She walked towards the oval pattern that was covered by the curtain's drapes. Her hand reached for the thinly veiled fabric and pulled down to uncover the cheval mirror. Meeting with nothing but her own reflection, she turned her body, noticing that the two smalls mirrors on her vanity were face down too.
There were little to none personal belongings on top of the vanity and dresser, at least nothing that wasn't books or related materials. No photos, or another sort of sentimental object. There was a pair of muggle shoes placed at the foot of the bed. And some, probably dirty, muggle clothes on the floor next to the shoes. However, the girl's robe rested on the bed carefully folded.
Narcissa's curious eyes wandered across the girl's working place. Although it was tidy than before, the mess was still present; Piled up books, parchment, and ink pots scattered over the table and other surfaces. Misplaced potion ingredients here and there. At last, some of those ingredients started to make sense to Narcissa. Most of them were used for the concoction of Wolfsbane potion. Aconite, silver dust, moonseed; all very expensive ingredients, how peculiar was that the girl seemed to have a large supply of them.
"How does she afford it?"
Accidentally, her feet stumbled on a medium-sized wooden chest. The metal bands were rusty, yet the locking mechanism looked recently bought. Her eyebrows rose when she noticed the lock wasn't actually closed. Narcissa glanced up at the bathroom door. The door was still closed. Once she tried to open the chest, a strong shock ran through her hand. Narcissa removed her hand in record time at the first feeling of electricity running in her limp. To leave a second more would have been dangerous.
"Blood charms. Smart girl." The woman muttered under her breath.
A pile of books rested next to the tea table, between the two sofas. She reached for the one on top. It read: Werewolves: Uncivilized Beasts. She took the next one Lycanthropy and its origins.
She frowned slightly at the sight of the next book's title. It was slightly odd; Veela's mating rituals.
But before she could think more of it, something else caught her attention. A book among many scattered, it seemed recently used. It was big and heavy like a tome, with wrinkled parchment next to it. As if the girl had recently had taken notes, but then discarded them for some unknown reason.
The unbreakable boundaries of magic: Life, death, money— A comprehensive study of magic and its limitations.
She picked up the book; it was heavier than she expected it to be. Specks of dust were accumulated inside of its spine. Most of the brown leather that protected its pages, was falling into pieces. Narcissa proceeded to see take a seat on the lengthy sofa next to her. She gingerly flipped its pages. In contrast with the exterior, the interior seemed well-cared for. The smell of coffee and vanilla touched her nostrils, as well as fresh ink. She noticed that some sections had side notes recently written.
The boundaries of life and its creation…
…Life cannot be harnessed, once extracted from its original body, vitality itself will vanish into the veil. However, there are registers of dark artifacts being able to…
"How did you find me?" The sudden voice broke her concentration.
If Narcissa was startled by the interruption, she didn't show it. The woman calmly placed the book on the table and turned to the girl in acknowledgment.
Hermione stood outside the bathroom, dressed in a thick bathrobe. She looked more like herself than moments ago.
"An elf, that I believe you inadvertently saved, came to me. He told me what happened and how he came to be free. He said that the last thing he saw was Greyback pursuing another werewolf into the forest. As soon as the sun came about. I went out to look smite the man myself."
'How is it that every time something happens to me, you seem to appear all of a sudden?'
The question was on the tip of Hermione's tongue, urging to be voiced out. Yet, her conscience wouldn't let her. It felt wrong to be downright suspicious when Narcissa has done nothing wrong.
Adding the fact that yesterday's talk didn't go well for both, didn't help her case in favor of utter those words. So she swallowed them.
An elf apparated next to Narcissa, one vial, and pieces of cloth were handed to the blonde woman. Without any word, the elf left as quick as she arrived.
Anticipating Narcissa's intentions, she walked to the sofa and sat next to her.
"Show me your back." The older woman said, handing the vial to the girl. "Recline your back forward."
Hermione could feel something humid and warm reaching her skin. She guessed it was steam. What followed after was the intense smell of Amadoubil invading the air.
'Merlin. This is going to hurt…'
Hermione sucked air through her teeth at the contact; the cloth was too hot. She bent her back like a cat as the brown liquid filled her wound. Her back burned and itched at the same time.
"Can't you use Episkey?" Her voice was slightly grumpy.
"No, the wounds are too deep. It'll only close the…"
"…The skin on top, and not the muscle inside, which could lead to an infection or worse. Episkey is only for small bruises, cuts, or disjointed limps. It mustn't be used for anything else." The words fell from her mouth bulky, awkward. As though someone had stuffed them in her mouth. "Yeah..." She chuckled "Madam Pomfrey was very energetic about the correct use."
Hermione hissed again as the reheated cloth pressed tightly on her skin. Blood and Amadoubil mixed together ran down all the way to the girl's lower back only be absorbed by the withe robe. She tried to curved her back again, but this time Narcissa grabbed her firmly by the shoulder. "Stop moving, Miss Granger." Her voice was stern, like a mother scolding her child.
"How are you feeling?" Narcissa inquired after a few moments.
Hermione had too many things in her mind at once, so many ideas and possibilities that couldn't form into sentences. She felt too many things at the same time, fear mostly. Her mind was muddled by what had happened in the last hours. Thankfully her little time in the shower served to cement herself properly at the moment and to regain a modicum of control.
"I'm fine." Hermione bit her lip, at the sound of her own voice. It definitely didn't come out as 'fine'. She cleared her throat this time. "A little bit shaken I guess, but fine nonetheless."
The inner layers of skin started to merge together, provoking an acute pain in her back. Hermione almost jolted up from the sofa. "Do. Not. Move!" Said Narcissa, holding the girl in her place. "This is my last batch of this plant, don't waste it."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be ungrateful. It just too uncomfortable."
"I believe the ungrateful part has been already covered, Miss Granger. All I'm asking is for you to stop behaving like a child." Narcissa spoke in her usual detached tone.
Feeling the strings of guilt being played in her heart, Hermione bit her lip. "You are right. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, working up the words she wished to convey with honesty. "I- I want to apologize for what I said to you yesterday. I never meant it" She looked behind her shoulder, searching for the woman's eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm really sorry."
"The arm," Narcissa said, not meeting the girl's gaze.
Hermione corrected her posture in such a way that Narcissa was sitting next to her. She carefully pulled out her arm from the bathrobe, ripples of pain cursed on her arm with every motion.
Not being punishment enough, Narcissa put more pressure than was necessary on the brunette's wound, making her hiss loudly.
"And yet you said them," Her voice was biting cold.
"I know, and I'm sor—"
"I trust you are capable of taking care of this." Said the blonde, indicating to Hermione to press the cloth on the injury. Hermione understood that her apologies were not wanted nor needed. So, she shut up and paid attention to her arm.
Narcissa stepped away from Hermione. When she turned around with her arms crossed over her chest, Hermione drank in the woman's appearance for the first time since they met today. She looked beautiful.
The blonde wore a simple yet elegant cobalt blue dress; it was conservative like many of her garments. Few loose silk-like strands of hair fell on her shoulders. The golden lines contrasted with the color of the fabric, making look like the top of the dress had needlework made of gold. The way she had fixed her hair told the girl it was done with haste, but her clothes and shoes told her that the woman wore nothing but tasteful attires even when she had the intention, like she said, to smite a man. Leave it to Narcissa that even in hasty situations she wore nothing but fashionable clothes.
Brown eyes connected with the blue ones; they were equally studying her as the owner sat in front of her. Sighing internally, she prepared for the storm of questions that were coming.
"What happened today, Miss Granger? And spare me the lies this time." Narcissa's eyes were measuring. Ready to analyze every word that was about to come out of the girl's mouth.
'I don't even know exactly.'
"I went out for a run deep into the forest…" Her fingers pressed tightly on her wounded arm. Several shivers ran all over her body, this time the reason wasn't because of the Amadoubil entering her flesh.
Hermione explained everything she could recall. Completely omitting the little but critical detail of why actually she left the room in the first place.
"Did he recognize you? That moment when he saw you, I mean."
"Yes, he did, at least I think so. I believe my smell gave it away."
"And once you both turned human, he still went after you?"
'Not exactly.'
"Yes," Hermione replied convincingly. It wasn't the time to doubt what happened during her moment of rage. Perhaps later, in the solitude of her room, she'll revisit that memory that lacked details.
"He never uttered word?"
"Does growling counts as speaking?" The brunette cracked a smile but wasn't well-received by the blonde, who remained unamused. Internally, she rolled her eyes "I didn't stop to have a conversation with him if that's what you are asking."
Narcissa didn't react at the girl's snappy reply. The defensiveness in her words came more biting that she intended to. Afraid that Narcissa might see it as a telling sign that she wasn't being entirely honest. "Honestly, I don't understand what he was trying to accomplish."
"He had a grudge against you, for what you did to him."
"And what was that?" Hermione scoffed "For being an accidental target from a spell I barely remember to cast?"
"That, and you antagonize him the night he confronted you."
"That doesn't justify him doi—"
"I'm not saying it does. However, I saw multiple times that when you both crossed paths, you sneered at him. No exception." The usual cold tone grew suggestive. "You clearly disliked him."
Hermione frowned, not appreciating what the woman's implication in that statement. "He attacked me still thinking I was defenseless! I didn't throw the first bite or spell if that's what you are insinuating."
Then, she paused for a moment, conceding Narcissa's statement. "But yes, you could say that…" She shrugged her shoulders, wincing after the action. The wound on the back protested at the motion, although almost closed the flesh remained very tender. "Ugh... Considering the actual state of his body I know what you must think, but—"
"I believe you, Miss Granger" Narcissa interrupted. "You were in shock not a few moments ago. No one can fake that. And seeing you now, I'm honestly surprised you can pretend that nothing happened." Narcissa extended her hand, silently asking for the cloth on the girl's arm. Like the other piece, she vanished into thin air. "But you'll ever be so lucky if the Dark Lord believes your story and lets you walk out of punishment."
"I approached Mrs. Malfoy, so she could help me treat my injuries. After that, I came to see you, my Lord." It wasn't lying, Hermione convinced herself. She just didn't want to bore the man with so many details.
A small smile appeared on his lips. Every time he did it, goosebumps appeared in her arms. "Ah, dear Narcissa, has she been treating you well? I understand she can be quite… disdainful towards her not-so-equals."
"I'm must be lucky, then." Hermione returned the smile "She has been nothing more than a gracious hostess to me, my Lord."
"I'll ask you not to tell anyone about my Lycanthropy problem, please," Hermione asked, while she adjusted the last buttons of her blouse. Her request has politely uttered, without any hint of urgency that the cells in her body vibrated with. Her mother always told her to not show when something was wished to be acquired because from that moment the man or woman who owned it could raise its value. She considered the same principle applied here. The brunette could only hope that Narcissa wouldn't share this with anyone. If not, it'll bring her a headache that she definitely didn't need.
Hermione stopped looking at herself in the mirror and turned around to see Narcissa.
The blonde was perusing over the girl's working desk, examining the few ingredients she had on display.
"Tell me, Miss Granger. Do you do your own wolfsbane draught?" She asked while she held the dried aconite flower between her fingers. Then slowly she approached it to her nose, clearly enjoying the sweet aroma.
"…Yes." Hermione eyed her suspiciously.
"Impressive." Her tone didn't match the compliment. At the same time, the brunette couldn't discern if she meant it or not.
When their eyes finally met; Hermione noticed the change almost immediately. Those blue eyes had turned into dried ice. Something told her that she wouldn't like what was coming.
"Draco got his first task." The words were softly spoken, yet to Hermione, it sounded more ominous than anything else. "He needs help to complete it."
The flower was tucked carefully in a glass recipient.
"I want you to help him." Narcissa's glare remained firmly fixed at Hermione.
'Want. Because a pureblood never asks. They demand.' Hermione's stomach tightened; anger was already making itself known in the pit of her gut. "And if I refuse?" She asked, thrusting her nose into the air.
The blonde pressed her lips very lightly as a response to the girl's defensiveness. Her sight dropped to the table where the books of lycanthropy she took earlier were placed.
"So, you want to blackmail me." A dry chuckle came out from her lips. The muscles of her face tensed at seeing how fast Narcissa was willing to play dirty. 'She couldn't even wait a day.'
'How desperate must she be to step this low?'
Surely the Malfoy family wasn't past blackmailing others. After all, rich families like them dabbed in politics and what was politics but filled with a bunch of backstabbing aspiring aristocrats. No, Hermione concluded, the new low for Narcissa had to be the need to blackmail a muggleborn thinking that otherwise said muggle-born won't be willing to help.
"Why don't you ask your sister? I'm sure she would be willing to help you."
"Bella can't help him." Said dismissingly
Behind the impenetrable ice-shield that Narcissa put on display, the brunette could feel the self-contained apprehensiveness irradiating from the woman's body. She knew that Lucius and Narcissa had been losing sleep since Draco got his task. That was at least 3 weeks ago when she had an unsavory encounter with Lucius. They have been doing everything in their power and yet they couldn't find any relief. Otherwise, she wouldn't be having this conversation with Narcissa.
She sneered; the brunette couldn't care less what was the son's task.
"And what about Snape, after all, he is Draco's—" She clenched her jar abruptly as another question resurfaced in her mind. "…Since when?"
"Since when what, Miss Granger?" Her features remained impassive at the hissing voice.
"Since when have you been bidding your time?"
A flash of understanding crossed over the blue eyes.
"It's all over your face." Hermione pointed out.
"That night when you offered to treat my injury. After I asked you why were you helping me, I thought you were lying. I thought you wanted something from me. Did it start from there?"
"No." The woman sighed "It was the night when I found you with Severus."
Hermione could ask Narcissa if Severus knew about Draco's task. But she knew that would be useless, for she already knew the answer to that question. Severus was a close friend of the Malfoys, and more importantly Draco's Godfather. She could bet her own wand that Severus was the first man to be requested for help.
And that was what it didn't feel right to her. The brunette started pacing around the room in silent contemplation. Her mind wandered, placing all the possibilities on the burgundy walls of her room. Her eyes darted rapidly across the wallpaper as if her thoughts were written all over.
'Could this be related…?'
It seemed too far-fetched, even in the privacy of her own mind. And yet, the more she thought about it, things started to make more sense. At least the time-line matched, but that could only be a coincidence.
Or not.
Severus Snape was clever and manipulative; nothing he did or said wasn't without a purpose. The fact that he deliberately told Narcissa a lie he knew she wouldn't believe, was not an accident at all. Hermione knew this.
But then, what was his intention? What did he gain by lying? What was he planning? That she didn't know, and yet she couldn't help but find it related it to this.
'What does he gain for Narcissa to be suspicious of…me?'
Her mouth slightly opened, inhaling air as her heart rate rose gradually. The brunette didn't know whether to smile and admire his cleverness or to snarl and tear everything apart in a tantrum.
"He sent you to me…" Hermione whispered.
She pushed down every emotion that threatened to tear her semblance of calmness. Hermione's focus returned to Narcissa, who seemed confused by the girl's sudden change of behavior. Brown eyes narrowed "You asked Severus to help Draco, and he refused you."
Aware that she wasn't making any sense, Hermione tried again. "Severus deliberately lied to you, knowing very well you won't believe him. That very lie led you to believe that I had something worth to be paid attention to. He manipulated you."
Narcissa's forehead wrinkled, ever so lightly while she connected the girl's words with her own experience.
"Obviously, he didn't plan for this specific situation to happen!" Hermione continued. "No one could have foreseen this! But he trusted that you will pay more attention to my behavior from that moment on. And eventually, you'd had figured it out all by yourself."
He knows about your curse…" Narcissa had finally caught up with the girl's train of thought.
"He does."
"Why wouldn't he just tell me?"
"Who knows how his mind works." She flipped her hand dismissively.
Hermione clearly understood why. If Severus have told Narcissa directly, that would have been a breach of their verbal agreement. And that'd be a betrayal, one that he cannot afford. But this technicality wasn't a breach, and Severus exploited beautifully.
Like many times before, she wondered if it was a mistake telling Severus the whole truth. The reason she told in the first place was that she needed someone to tell her side of the story or at least to know what really happened. Someone who was close to Dumbledore, who worked with him. Someone to know what kind of man was the headmaster of Hogwarts. And that man happened to be Severus.
Hermione had believed that Severus knowing her real circumstances eventually would turn up beneficial. But at this moment that conviction wavered, again.
"Be as it may, he was confident that you knowing will provide you the right tools for me to help you whether I wish it or not."
The more the brunette thought about it, the less she found flaws in the man's logic. She had to admire how utterly subtle of him. 'He must be very intimately acquainted with Narcissa to predict the woman's train of thought.'
Narcissa might be able to school her features almost flawlessly. But what she could never hide, no matter how much she tried, was the intelligence that shined in those blue orbs. Just like her older sister, Narcissa possessed a sharp mind. And because that, Hermione knew this 'random encounter' couldn't be as random as the woman led her to believe.
"How did you really find me?" Hermione asked.
The girl let the silence filter in the atmosphere as she continued looking at the blonde, waiting patiently for a response.
"Originally, I've tasked the elves to keep a close eye on you."
Those words grated at something in Hermione, morphing her expression into a scowl.
"The elf you saved, never saw you. He just remembers falling on the ground and Greyback leaving the place. It was a garden elf who saw a brown werewolf passing near the greenhouse heading to the forest. When he reported to me, I assumed the elf saw the incorrect color. When the sun came out, I tasked Filqui to track Greyback, instead, she found you."
"You can imagine my surprise, Miss Granger, when I realize that the elf didn't see the wrong color, after all."
Of all the things Hermione did think of, this option never crossed her mind. She felt a little bit like a fool. The brunette could bring herself to be angry at the woman, all this happened because of Severus.
Needless to say, all her anger was focused on him.
"Why did Snape refuse to help you?"
"He didn't. He actually agreed to help me, to a certain extent. However, I needed a guarantee that he'll do good on his promise, so I asked him to do the unbreakable vow."
The brunette raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. The unbreakable vow was a very serious binding spell. Although she was confident that Severus would be careful about how the vow was being phrased, no matter how specific it gets, an unbreakable vow often has loopholes that can be exploited.
"So, what would it be, Miss Granger?" Narcissa shortened the space between, her face reflected how tired she was of a conversation that was being unnecessarily taking too long. "You'll still haven't given me an answer."
Without letting her words to sit too long in the air, the girl lowered her gaze in submission. "Whatever punishment you seem fit, my Lord, I'll accept it."
There was nothing else she could say or do, but to wait for Voldemort to decide what to do with her. Hermione dried her sweaty hands on her robes, her stomach felt heavy as lead. She wondered if the Cruciatus curse hurt as much a Harry once described it. She pictured the face of the man Bellatrix cursed time ago; he was a trembling mess when Lestrange was done with him.
If the man decided to physically punish her, she'll accept it. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if she'll end up badly as the man Bellatrix tortured. Would it be even worse than Bellatrix's Crucio?
"Tell me, Hermione, do you regret killing him?" Voldemort asked, while he delicately petted Nagini with his knuckles.
"No, my Lord." She said almost reluctantly.
"Even if it cripples my plans?"
"People like Greyback are replaceable, my Lord." That was the most honest thing she had said today, Hermione thought. "I- I'll set myself the task someone else to fill his place."
"Do you believe yourself indispensable to my cause?"
Hermione raised her head in surprise. Ashen white features were seemingly placid, but she could tell his eyes held a danger within. The man was, at the very least, annoyed with her. It wouldn't do to act so sure of herself without knowing where he was heading at.
"No. I wouldn't dare. For I'm replaceable as well."
"Then tell me, what's the difference between you and Greyback? Or you believe yourself and equal to him?"
Voldemort was all about hierarchy and power, or that's what Nagini told her one day. He didn't like people being extremely humble, at the same time it was prudent to not be overly confident. Even Bellatrix seemed to be not as arrogant and obnoxious in his presence.
However, Greyback would never be equal to her, ever. She knew it, and he knew it.
"…When we faced each other, I managed to kill him wandlessly with a simple flick of my wrist. And there was nothing he could do but to die by my hand. There lies the difference my Lord, I'm still useful to you. If Greyback wasn't able to defend himself. It means it wasn't useful enough for you, my Lord."
A short-lived smile formed in his mouth, if Hermione blinked, she surely would have missed it. His fingers kept caressing Nagini's body, reveling in his master's warm and gentle touch. The snake kept preening at the sensation while her head pointed at Hermione's direction, her dark slits opening and closing with intent in those reptile eyes. For a moment, the girl thought Nagini was about to talk with her. But nothing came after, the snake just kept looking.
After a moment of silent consideration on his part, Voldemort took the girl's wand from the table. He ran a finger across the wand's body, examining its materials, shape, and color. "Wandless you say?"
The girl nodded.
He extended his arm and offered the wand to her. "Scabior was Greyback's second in command, find him. Dolohov knows where he is." Hermione grasped the wand but Voldemort held it thigh in hist fist. "Do not disappoint me, Hermione."
The way he uttered the last words carried a heavy aura of menace with equal intimidation. Fail wasn't an option, Hermione understood this.
A wave of relief wash over her, she nodded once. "I won't, my Lord." She swore it.
"We'll gather tonight." The man told her as he made a weaving motion, finally dismissing Hermione.
Hermione didn't even consider her question, she outright refused.
The woman quickly recovered by blinking away the incredulous look on her face. "You don't seem to understand your position, Granger you either help me or…"
"Or what?!" Her voice was all demanding, she felt at the very edge of losing her temper again, self-control be dammed. "What are you going to do? Who are you going to tell? The Death Eaters? Your husband or perhaps your sister?! Or better yet! are you going to tell Voldemort?!" Narcissa almost physically flinched at the dark wizard's name being spoken out loud. "You are the one that doesn't seem to understand, Mrs. Malfoy! There is only one opinion that matters around here and that is our Lord's opinion. And guess what? He knows."
"…What?" Her eyes opened wide; confusion quickly settled on her face.
"He knows! He knew from the very beginning. Why do you think I'm here?" Hermione opened her arms, motioning her surroundings. "He recruited me for my abilities, being a werewolf was among the reasons he wanted me here." '...And being imprinted to your maniac sister!'
Hermione was fully aware that if there was a risk, it was Bellatrix knowing. But that Narcissa did not know that. Whatever power the woman thought she had over her; it didn't exist.
"And even if he didn't why would it matter? it is no secret that Greyback was a werewolf."
"I asked to keep it a secret for the sake of my privacy. This matter is of no one's concern but mine!" Hermione said, trying to ignore the thick tension growing in her jaw. "I-I was wondering why you couldn't wait; how desperate must you be to try to blackmail me when you just healed me a few minutes ago and—" The brunette huffed in frustration. "But now I get it. You thought I was mentally fragile enough to easily give in to your blackmail."
Narcissa, however, didn't seem to be listening to her anymore. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth moved silently, but aggressively. It almost looked like she was having an argument with herself. "I can't believe this." The blonde woman muttered, barely audible. "This is…This…Is just madness."
"What are you talking about?"
"You are not aware of anything, are you?" The blonde gave her a contemptuous look. When the brunette remained silent, the woman's expression morphed into something the girl hadn't seen in a long time. "What makes you so valuable that he is willing to oversee your little flaws?" The blonde's vocal cords vibrated with belittlement.
It was then when she saw Narcissa Malfoy. It felt like ages since the last time she set eyes on that woman. The one with the haughty expression; with the superiority flair which she carried herself by the virtue of her birth. The one that stood at King Cross station every beginning of the school year with an etched expression of disgust and supremacy in her face.
Would have been another person shooting a spiteful gaze just like Narcissa was doing it, Hermione would have matched it with equal measure. However, for the sake of familiarity, she made an effort to remain unfazed. Even more, as she continued watching the woman, she welcomed her. Like a sort of familiar face that someone sees every day in the corner when crossing the street but never talk to or the neighbor three houses next to hers and after many years they just acknowledge each other's presence with a nod.
"Funny, your sister asked the same thing." She replied dryly.
Narcissa's expression somehow became more pronounced "Allow me to shed some light on your colossal ignorance." Her voice dripped scorn. "A year ago, no, months ago The Dark Lord would not dare to invite a girl, especially muggle-born, an impure one to mix among his ranks. And said girl is infected with the dirtiest and lowest cesspool of curses: Lycanthropy. Not only he does that but he invites her to sit next to him. One of the greatest honors he can give, bestowed to you almost since you arrived."
"I earned that seat!" Hermione retorted.
"The fact that you have to ask if it actually matters whether or not the Dark Lord knows about your curse, tells me how little do you know the Lord. Allow me to clarify that for you, it matters. It really matters. The main reason why Greyback couldn't aspire to a higher position was because of his curse."
"When you arrived, he personally told me to take care of your needs." A wry smile was drawn on her lips "I have to say Miss Granger; I was between shocked and livid. I thought he was punishing me for my husband's failures. As if hosting death eaters wasn't enough, now I had to tend personally the newest addition."
The woman shook her head lightly; her lips, slightly parted, as if for a moment she couldn't believe her own words. Unbeknown to Narcissa, Hermione started to share the same sentiment.
"Did you know Bella was training Draco? That was till he ordered her not to; the excuse was that she had better things to do than to waste her time. But lo and behold! Once Miss Granger arrived the Lord commanded his Lieutenant to personally train her."
Narcissa stared directly into Hermione's eyes. "If you don't think he is favoring you, Miss Granger, then I think I giving too much credit to your intelligence."
Hermione stood rooted in her place; Thinking how was it that she hadn't been aware of any of this. If she was looking for a single reason to think the Dark Wizard held her in higher regard than the others, Narcissa just threw her a whole list of items.
"I really didn't know." She spoke softly, still absorbing the information.
"I can see that, Miss Granger." Her tone was flat. The woman sighed tiredly, seeing her plan crumbling even before it started.
There was no doubt in the girl's mind that all this had everything to do with Bellatrix being her mate. 'But then why he would give me the potion in the first place?' It was an illogical thing to do if the man wanted her to bond with his Lieutenant. Besides all that, Voldemort wasn't known for his kindness, then why he paid more attention to her? 'Ugh, no wonder Lestrange asked if he was fucking me.' A wave of disgust originated in her stomach. '…Gross'
Hermione needed to think, really think about the implications behind his actions. But not now. Not when already everything felt like a clusterfuck. She could feel the first twinges of a headache approximating. 'A bloody clusterfuck indeed.'
Her eyes drifted at the light outside, she turned her body and looked through the window. The shadows cast by the house had almost shrunk by half. 'By now, everyone must be about to wake up.' In no time the news will spread. She needed to reach Voldemort before that happened.
'What a day…' She was thankful for the distraction, though, in whatever form it came. It was better than to be alone with her thoughts, a habit that Hermione avoided most of the time in recent months.
After all this, Hermione felt forced to recognize one thing. Regardless of the venom which Narcissa's words were spoken, all of them were said with honesty. A rare occurrence when living among snakes. The blonde just showed her a glimpse of how callous and cunning she can be, but if the woman truly wished her ill, then this interaction would very different from what it was right now.
No matter if she had a reason hidden behind all the apparent interest for her wellbeing, Narcissa had helped her more often than not. 'I shouldn't discard her so easily.'
Hermione prayed to whichever deity was willing to listen, and hoped she wasn't making a mistake involving herself with this family.
"Why me?"
"Excuse me?"
"What makes you think I can help your son?"
"Weren't you listening? Our Lord does favor you, Miss Granger. If Draco has your support—"
"That doesn't mean I have sway on his opinion."
"I don't think anyone does."
"Then what do you expect of me?"
"Your help."
"What is his task?"
"What guarantee you'd give me—"
"None. Other than my word." Her tone left no room for argument.
She raised a skeptical eyebrow in response. "How can I trust you'll keep your word?"
"The same way I'm trusting you right now."
Narcissa remained silent, her expression was thoughtful.
"Is your decision Mrs. Malfoy, either you tell me what it is or we are done here."
As the silence extended, Hermione turned her back on Narcissa again, letting the ultimatum hang in the air. If the woman didn't trust her, that was her prerogative, Hermione told herself. There was no other guarantee she was prepared to offer. 'I'll be utterly mad the day I dare to do an unbreakable vow with someone.' Particularly with someone she didn't even know.
"Whatever Draco has told you about me, believe him." That was as much as a convincing attempt she was inclined to do.
"I don't think that's a wise thing to say, Granger."
Hermione snorted. "Didn't he tell you how smart I'm? The smartest witch of this generation, or so Dumbledore told me once." She sounded nearly wistful. A sentiment that wouldn't be understood by the woman.
The seconds turned to minutes, and just when Hermione thought this wasn't going anywhere, Narcissa spoke again.
"Alright, Miss Granger. But if you don't keep your word, I'll make sure to skin you alive myself and use your filthy fur as carpet on the main entrance."
She didn't doubt any single word of that promise.
"Draco has to establish a path for the Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts. Lucius and I found an enchanted cabinet in…"
Hermione almost barked a hysterical laugh right at that second, it took all her will to remain in her place, unmoving. Suddenly, she felt like all the tension was drained, then filled her with maniac amusement on the verge to explode. She wished she could though, for the ridiculousness, the mere absurdity of all was just hardly bearable at this point. 'If only!' If only Narcissa had started this conversation with those simple words, things would have developed very differently. Her teeth flashed into a big smile; Hermione was glad that Narcissa couldn't see it.
Hogwarts, the most secure place after Gringotts. Voldemort tasked Draco to build a path, her path to get to Hogwarts, a seemingly impenetrable fortress. The chance of a lifetime, to enter Hogwarts without nobody knowing. To break the headmaster when he will less expect it. Nobody and not a single soul inside that castle will see her come.
She was happy to know the dark wizard was keeping the promise he made to her.
"… The actual problem is that the one in Hogwarts is in a very decrepit state and we don't know if…."
Of course, she'll do anything in her power to help the boy to achieve that. Suddenly, Hermione didn't feel so furious at Severus or in general. Not much, at least.
The way Hermione was starting to see it, they could help each other. 'If she wants my help, how about a task for a task?' Narcissa had mentioned before her knowledge in healing was limited. But amateur or not the woman seemed to understand more than she let know. The brunette called it a hunch. How far, how deep that knowledge ran? The brunette couldn't tell. But that was something she'll eventually learn.
"…Under those conditions most probably the magical core of the wood had or is about to extinguish any…."
She eyed a book with a dark leather cover on top of her bedside table, the one she bought a month ago. Once her arm extended in direction to the furniture, the book flew immediately to her hand.
"Are you listening, Granger?!" The brisk tone made Hermione's smile wider.
Finally, with a self-regulated modest smile on her face, she turned to face the woman. "I think we can benefit from each other Mrs. Malfoy. I promise I'll do everything in my power to help Draco." Hermione said as she offered the book to Narcissa. "But I'll need your help with this…"
Hermione lingered nervously a few seconds looking at her wand before she gathered the courage to turn and speak to Voldemort. "My Lord, before I go. May I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Do you want me to…" The words got stuck in her throat. She cleared her throat one time, then twice. "Do you expect me to mate with Bellatrix?" She croaked, almost wincing at the sound she just produced.
Voldemort halted the soft touches on Nagini. He turned to look at the brunette with interest.
"I guess, w-what I'm trying to say is, I—"
"Do you want to?"
"Merlin, no." She replied immediately. "And even if I wished to, which I really don't, she is married."
"Why would that matter?"
"The magical bond—"
"Is nothing compared to a Veela's or werewolf imprint." The man explained as if it was something she should've known already. His attention drifted somewhere else. "I wouldn't have given you the potion if that was my wish. I might have as well forced you onto Bellatrix from the beginning. I said I wanted you to join by your own volition. I have kept my word, have I not?"
"Yes, you have, My Lord."
If his words were true, then why…? Hermione didn't know how to ask without sounding ungrateful or suspicious of his intentions. She couldn't risk offending him, even more so after today.
"Be sure to keep yours, follow my orders. And you'll have nothing to worry about." His tone was kind and sympathetic like he was talking to a friend.
But Hermione wasn't stupid, she knew a threat when she heard one.
"Would that be all?"
"Y-Yes." Not feeling daring enough to test the limits of his accessibility, the brunette bowed. "Thank you for your time, My Lord." And after the proper reverence, she left the room.
