"We're not going back to the Manor for Christmas?" Hermione's voice sounded dangerously close to a whine, but she didn't care. As usual, her mother had met them at King's Cross and side-apparated them home. Except home wasn't home.
Instead of the Manor, she was looking upon the Forest Cottage. The distinctly un-Christmasy cottage with its slate shingled roof and it's red stone walls. From the outside, it looked so small that it might only house a single room. Luckily, her parents had added an extra two rooms, living room, and a bathroom.
Still, it was a far cry off from the lavish comforts of home. Turnip wore his fur a midnight blue as he whined at Hermione's feet, trying to get her attention.
"It's still not safe at the Manor," her mother said placidly, though there was a set to her jaw that warned Hermione from arguing.
Draco grinned impishly, "I like it," he said. "My room overlooks the brook. At home all I can see are hills."
She glared at him, and shook her head slightly. His grin widened.
"It's already decided," said their mother as she opened the front door. "I've already had the elves decorate."
And Hermione reluctantly agreed that the cottage looked cozy and inviting inside. The decor, which was normally done in greens, reds, and browns, was now redone in silver and white. Sparkling snow fell from the ceiling, evaporating before it hit the people below, and the inviting scent of cinnamon filled the room. The kitchen was through a door on the left, and a spiral staircase stood against the right wall that would take the occupant to whichever of the three bedrooms they wanted.
"I like the tree," said Draco, smiling at the lush fir in the corner.
"I thought we could decorate it tonight," said Narcissa, striding over to the fireplace on the opposite wall so that she could straighten the garland on its mantle. Above the mantle, a painting hung in a silver frame of a white stag bounding over a snow-filled landscape. "Come on, darling," she coaxed, catching Hermione's unenthusiastic expression, "Isn't it pretty? Won't it be nice to have a change this year?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat, and nodded. "I'm sure it will be wonderful," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm just going to head up to my room."
Her mother searched her eyes for a moment, and then nodded. "Don't take too long, darling. Mardie will have dinner ready before too long."
She nodded, and headed up to her bedroom. She left Turnip to settle happily into one of the plush chairs.
Admittedly, the room was significantly more grown up than her room at home. Her bed sat in a shining silver frame, piled high with white silks and furs. Sheepskin rugs protected her feet from the frigid floorboards, and a silver chair was pushed up against the window, overlooking the brook Draco had been so excited about. There was a vanity against one wall, and a large fireplace against the other. A wardrobe sat beside the vanity, and she knew her mother had charmed it so that the door would open to her wardrobe at the manor.
In honor of the holidays, her walls had been re-papered to resemble an evergreen forest. Reindeer flitted and and out of the trees, their harnesses jingling.
She watched them for a moment, and then let out a sigh as she sank into the chair. Her travelling cloak was still on, and she buried her face in the soft fur of her hood.
"What's wrong now?"
Hermione pressed her eyes shut, and pretended she was back at the lodge with her mentor.
We're at the Forest Cottage.
She didn't feel any surprise from Bellatrix, and it made her sit up straighter.
You knew this would happen, didn't you?
"Cissy hasn't returned to the manor since summer. I didn't think it was likely that she'd go back just for Christmas."
I don't understand why! We've never left the manor for so long before. Father would be heartbroken-
"Do you really want to spend Christmas at the manor without him? Do you really?"
Hermione scowled. Of course she didn't. But that didn't mean she wanted to have Christmas anywhere else either.
Maybe we should have just skipped Christmas this year.
There was a low, husky laugh that made her feel like there were butterflies in her stomach.
"I think you're going to love Christmas this year," Bellatrix promised.
A blush bloomed over Hermione's cheeks. I can't wait to see you. She smiled, and opened her eyes to look down at the frosty brook. Snow had not come to the Forest Cottage yet, but there were lightened blooms of frost over the rocks and underbrush, signalling how cold it was.
"Good."
Draco draped himself over the back of a chair and glowered as he watched their kneeling mother put the final touches on Hermione.
"If it's so innocent, I don't know why we're not all going." he griped.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Do you really think you could hold your tongue in a room of Death Eaters?" she challenged, "In a room with him?"
"The Dark Lord believes you are too ill to attend," Narcissa said sharply. "And that I will be staying home to tend to you." She pulled the edges of the juniper silk gown, and nodded in satisfaction at the eveness of the hem.
His frown deepened. "If Mione gets to go, shouldn't I?"
"No!" Both Hermione and Narcissa shouted at the same time. Turnip, who had been sleeping in his usual chair looked up and let out a sharp bark.
Narcissa stood, and ran her fingers over the matching silk ribbon that held most of Hermione's hair up in an elegant updo. A few curls had been allowed to escape, and they framed Hermione's face becomingly. "Your makeup shouldn't smudge at all until you come home and use that balm I got you to remove it," she said, her fingers sliding beneath Hermione's chin so that she could tip her face this way and that.
"Do I pass inspection?" Hermione teased.
Narcissa carefully removed her hand, and rested it on Hermione's shoulder. "You look beautiful. I only wish it were a proper first ball," she said sadly, but there was a fondness in her eyes that made Hermione feel warm all over.
There was a rap at the door.
"Draco, darling, would you let Severus in?"
He stalked over and yanked the door open, letting in a gust of chilly wind along with the imposing Potion's Master.
Snape wore a slightly shinier version of his usual black outfit, though he had pulled his hair back with a black silk ribbon. "Hello, Narcissa," he said stoically, "Hermione," and then he arched a brow at Draco, "I don't suppose you care to explain why you're sulking?"
"No, I don't," snapped Draco, pointing his glower towards the floor.
"Good," said Snape, sniffing as he turned back to Hermione and Narcissa, "You both look lovely, as usual."
"I just don't understand why we're still letting her do this!" Growled Draco. "It should be me."
Her throat felt hot as she whirled around to face him, "What is that supposed to mean?" she spat.
"Children!" their mother stepped between them and gave both a stern look. "Control yourselves this instant. Darling, you need to calm down so you can keep your Occlumency shields up," she said, stroking Hermione's shoulder comfortingly, "And you," she turned to her son, "Neither of you should be going! It's bad enough that Hermione is forced to endure this evening without you making it harder on her."
Draco had the grace to look ashamed, and he stayed quiet as he watched his mother fuss over Hermione again. A white cloak was summoned from the coat closet, and then Hermione took Snape's arm. He noted the nervous expression his sister wore and felt guilt begin to claw at his stomach.
"I'll have her home by Midnight," Snape promised. He swept Hermione towards the door.
"Wait," Hermione turned and stepped quickly back to her mother, flinging her arms around her.
Draco tried to offer her a smile when her brown eyes looked over to him, "You look beautiful," he said, his voice sounding slightly off.
She grinned in response, and flashed him a wink. When had she started winking?
After another moment, in which Narcissa whispered something in her ear, she gave their mother one last hug and then returned to Snape.
"Goodnight!" She called.
Snape exchanged one last look with their mother, and then ushered Hermione through the door.
The moment the door shut the energy in the room changed. Narcissa looked at Draco and then at the clock on the mantle, "Draco, get dressed in your best black robes," she said absentmindedly.
"Why?"
But she was already at the staircase. "Hurry darling, we don't have much time."
His brow furrowed, but he did as he was told and climbed to his room to put on his best black robes. After a moment, he put on his nicest dragonhide boots as well, the ones he kept shined so bright he could see his reflection in them.
When he returned, his mother was dressed in robes that resembled Snape's more than her usual ones. The collar was high, and buttoned all the way up to her throat. The sleeves were similarly buttoned close at the wrists, and her hair was curled in a gleaming bun at the nape of her neck. It was a stark contrast, one that made her look very formidable.
"What are we doing?" he asked quietly, as if she were a wild animal he didn't want to startle.
"Mardie!" she barked, "The sandwiches!"
The round elf hurried in, carrying a platter of sandwiches.
"Eat Draco, we don't have time for a proper dinner."
Not wanting to argue, he snatched half a sandwich and wolfed it down as Narcissa attached a wand holster to her arm. It didn't quite feel real to be watching her slide her wand into the holster and whip it out experimentally.
She grabbed her own sandwich and took a bite as she went back to the clothes closet and dug through it. He had never seen her eat without a plate before. She looked so...casual.
Passing him a black cloak, she paused. "Do you have your wand?"
He nodded, "Mum, what are we doing?"
She swallowed the bite she had just taken. "You're right."
He blinked. "I...am?"
She nodded, and took another bite, shimmying into her own cloak. "I'm not going to allow you to become involved with the Death Eaters, and joining the Order is out of the question. Out. of the question," she repeated when he opened his mouth in protest. "I'm not going to lose another child to the manipulations of Dumbledore." She took a deep breath. "But it's not fair to expect you to sit idly by while the rest of your family risks their lives."
"Mum… what are you saying?"
She set her sandwich down on the tray, and fastened his cloak. "I think it's time for you to see what I've been working on. Are you ready?"
He nodded, feeling his excitement stir, "I am."
Though she was perfectly capable of apparating herself, Hermione was grateful for Snape and his insistence that she save her strength for "fending off would-be suitors".
She shivered as he escorted her up the lantern lit pathway towards Riddle Manor.
"Master Snape!" chirped a house elf as they entered the manor. It was painted a glittery red, and wore a crown of holly leaves. "Miss Malfoy! Welcome, Hirk will take your cloaks!"
The normally quiet manor was bursting with noise. Hermione took a moment to center herself, and straightened her shoulders before allowing Snape to take her into the ballroom.
"Remember that even with your father in prison you are still part of one of the most prestigious families in Wizarding Britain. Everyone here will will be thinking it, and wondering if they can use you for that reason." He whispered into her ear as they entered the glittering room.
Everything, the walls, the table that lined the far wall, the glittering floor, was gold. It was nearly blinding under the sparkling candles that floated high above the dancers.
It seemed, in that moment, that every member of Pureblood society was in the room. She knew rationally that only those the Dark Lord trusted were there.
"Uncle Sev," she whispered, trying to maintain her calm composure as she took in the dozens of twirling couples.
He patted her hand, and gently tugged her towards the northern end of the ballroom. "We must pay our respects to the Dark Lord," he whispered. "Since it's your first time here, I will formally present you to him."
She nodded, grateful that he was with her.
The Dark Lord sat in a throne-like chair on a dais of gold and emerald. A small line of people stood waiting to greet him, and Snape steered them to the end of the line.
"This isn't like Mother's balls at all," she whispered, looking around. The colors were too garish, and nothing was done to hide the barrels of wine that took up the southern wall. Glittery elves bobbed in and out of the crowd, serving drinks. A string quartet stood next to the wine, playing music with slightly glazed eyes. She suspected at once that they had been put under the imperius curse.
Are you here?
There was a stab of regret, "Not yet, doveling. I'll be arriving later, after I finish rounding up the entertainment."
Hermione would have frowned had she not felt Snape's probing eyes on her. Instead, she looked up at him and offered him a tentative smile.
"We're next," he said lowly.
She straightened even more, and immediately fought to clear her mind of thoughts of Bellatrix. Then Snape boomed out-
"My Lord! Allow me to present Hermione Malfoy."
The Dark Lord was dressed in deep green robes, his red eyes in starker contrast than usual as he offered them a benevolent grin. "Severus! And Hermione! Two of my favorite people. Welcome. Will you be playing the part of Lucius tonight, Severus?"
Snape bent at the waist in a bow, "Indeed, my lord. I will be the one to intercept all dance requests."
There was a snake-like laugh. "Then I pity the young men. And you, Hermione? Will you be joining in tonight's entertainment?"
She opened her mouth to ask what that might be, when Snape jumped in, "I promised Narcissa that I would get her home before midnight, my lord."
"So early? She's not a baby anymore now, Severus. She's recently come of age. Isn't that right?"
It took Hermione a moment to realize he was speaking to her, but she quickly chimed in, "Yes, my lord. I turned Seventeen in September."
"Nevertheless, my lord, a mother's worry defeats us all in this, I'm afraid."
"Pity." The dark red eyes flashed in annoyance. "Next year, then. Once you are through with school your mother will have no claim over your activities."
Snape bowed again, "Thank you for having us here tonight, my lord."
The smile was back in full force, "Yes, of course. Enjoy what little time you have here."
He waved them off genially, and Hermione felt as if a vise around her chest loosened.
"Perhaps I should have just stayed," she said.
He shook his head, "If I can spare you another year of Muggle Hunting I will."
"That's what they're going to do?" She blinked in surprise, then thought of Bellatrix. "Do you…?"
He looked at her sharply, "All Death Eaters are expected to participate in the Hunts. But there's a difference between participating and hunting. If I can give you another year to learn that difference then I will be very happy."
She followed him silently as he led her to the scattered tables that surrounded the feasting table.
"Hermione!"
Both Hermione and Snape looked around at the sound.
Terence Higgs, looking handsome in blue silk robes, hurried through the dancers towards them.
She smiled at the sight of her friend. "Terence! You're here!" She ignored the twittering whispers that erupted on either side of them
He grinned as he reached her, and grasped both of her elbows, "I hoped you'd be here! It would have been terribly boring without you. Did you see that we're the only ones under thirty here right now? Though Uncle says that Pansy might come, and Gregory and Vincent of course."
"Try not to become too comfortable with us elders," droned Snape, "I'm positive that there will be more students coming. Unfortunately, the youth of our time don't seem to understand punctuality."
"Professor! I heard you might be escorting Hermione tonight. May I please have permission to dance with her, I might die of boredom otherwise."
"We wouldn't want that," said Snape, arching a brow. He always had a soft spot for his students, but Hermione rarely got to see it.
She nudged him playfully with her elbow, "Please, Uncle Sev?" She'd rather get permission to dance with her friend than have one of the older attendees take an interest. She noticed a man old enough to be her father's father eye her appreciatively, and repressed a shudder.
He pretended to think it over, and then sighed, "Alright. But mind what I told you earlier."
She nodded, and allowed Terence to whisk her onto the dancefloor.
"The Dark Lord has decided to give me the mark," he whispered excitedly as they copied the steps of the others surrounding them.
She didn't know how to respond, so she smiled back at him, "That's fantastic!" It wasn't. She looked up at his grinning face and suddenly felt as if she had been invited to his funeral. "When?"
"Tonight, after the hunts. I'm going to catch one, you see, and when I present it to the Dark Lord at the end he will honor me above all else?" His hands were warm against hers.
"And if you don't? If they're too fast for you?" she teased, feeling sick to her stomach. She thought of Ian and Jean, her muggle parents, and wished for the thousandth time that she was not connected to the muggle world at all.
I shouldn't care, she thought irritably.
He laughed out loud, and spun her around, "They won't be! Mother had our fastest horse sent up. The muggles don't stand a chance against me!"
She felt eyes on her, and looked over her shoulder to see the Dark Lord staring at her. She smiled wider at him, and offered a wave, earning a nod in return.
"Ahh, perhaps you'll be next," Terence said, looking around to see what held her attention.
She looked back at him, "Next for what?"
"The mark. Everyone knows that you'll get it. Do you know what they say about you?"
She shook her head, brows furrowing.
Pale green eyes sparkled at her, "They say you're going to be his next favorite. That you'll replace the old guards and bring the new generation up in his esteem. They say you're special!"
She swallowed hard, "Who says that?"
"Everyone. My Uncles mention it once a week. Everyone knows you're going to be special one day."
She quirked a brow at him, "One day? I'm not special now?" Her heart was thumping so hard she felt as if it would pop out of her chest.
His smile softened, "Of course you are."
The dancing was slowing, and his grip on her was becoming too soft.
"I think I want some wine," she said quickly, breaking from his grip. He followed her, and when they both had glasses of the burgundy liquid he changed the subject to his training as a Death Eater, and his new position at the Daily Prophet. Both were interesting to Hermione, and she felt herself relax around him once again.
She danced three more times with Terence- all of them quick paced and fun, and then reluctantly agreed (at the request of Uncle Sev) to dance with others.
She was dancing with a middle-aged, bumbling man who kept stepping on her toes when she felt a familiar tingle start racing up and down her spine. A hot feeling that wasn't her own burned in her belly.
The man spun her around, and she looked anxiously towards the door. As soon as she did her breath caught in her throat.
Bellatrix stood in the doorway with Rabastan, dressed in glittering white. Small braids pulled the hair away from either side of her face, but her hair was otherwise left to hang around her shoulders in masses of gleaming curls.
All she could do was gape openly as Bellatrix smirked in her direction, and then glided off towards the Dark Lord.
Rabastan, who had been behind her, strode towards her.
"May I cut in?" he asked the wizard holding Hermione. There was a steely aimed at him, but he continued grinning broadly as she was reluctantly released.
"Got you to myself now," he said, chuckling as he took her hand and gripped her waist.
She smiled back at him, "Aren't you supposed to be presenting yourself to the Dark Lord?"
He shrugged, "He doesn't care about me much, and I think it's been made very clear to all that I lost my mind in Azkaban for him," still, his smile did not fade, "besides, Bellatrix can't dance with you while we're here, so she thought I should get the chance."
"Shouldn't you have asked my escort for permission?" she asked, glancing over to a scowling Snape.
"Why?" He was surprisingly graceful as he led her through a series of complicated steps, completely ignoring the dance the others were doing. "You're the one I'm dancing with, not him."
She laughed at him, earning a grin in return, and allowed him to lead her until her head was spinning and her throat burned with thirst.
"You shouldn't be consorting with him," grumbled her uncle as she slid into the seat beside his and eagerly drank from the wine goblet that waited for her.
"I like him," she gasped once she had drunk her fill.
He gave her a look, and summoned a glass of water for her, which she drank with gusto. "There are eyes on you."
"Those eyes are drunk," she said, nodding at the women closest to them, who promptly burst into giggles. "Why haven't you danced with anyone, Uncle Sev?"
His lip curled in distaste, "The time for me to court has long gone."
She smirked, "Dancing isn't courting," she said, "It's just dancing."
Black eyes turned to study her, "You know better than that. I know you do."
She did. Of course she did. But it was more fun to pretend that her actions didn't carry such weight.
"For what it's worth," he continued after a moment's silence, "I think Terence would be a fine match. He's always been very studious, and he defends those weaker than him. He might be more at home with a Gryffindor than any of us are willing to admit." There was a twitch under one eye, but he gave her a slight smile. "He's a good boy."
Was that what people thought of them? That they were going to…
"I have to use the loo," she said quickly, trying to keep herself steady as she stood and pushed past the dozens of silk-clad bodies.
The corridor that led to the toilets was deserted, and she was thankful for that as she spent a few minutes trying to get her roiling stomach under control. As she washed her hands she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked more grown up than she ever had.
The corridor was still deserted as she left the bright light of the toilet. She smoothed her robes as she walked, and then let out a yelp as an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the shadows.
"Let go of me at once!" She hissed, squirming as her back was pressed against a wall. She ceased at once as she looked up into Bellatrix's smirking face. "Bella!" she gasped.
"Miss me?" the older woman chuckled, and captured Hermione's lips in a kiss. She tasted of amaretto and chocolate.
When they broke apart, Hermione rested her forehead against Bellatrix's and felt her body hum in approval. "Always," she said, not caring about the whine in her voice.
"How would you like to go somewhere more… intimate?"
It took a moment for Hermione to register the words, and then she pulled back, blinking in confusion. "But.. Uncle Severus…"
Dark brown eyes sparkled with glee, "Won't be able to stay mad at you forever."
"And the hunt?"
Bellatrix caught one of Hermione's hands in her own, "Perhaps it's time I let the others have a chance at winning."
"Won't the Dark Lord be mad?"
"I've already told him you're not feeling well, and that I'm going to take you back home," she caressed the back of Hermione's hand with her thumb, sending shivers up the brunette's back. "He understands that this happens to youths at their first party sometimes. Too much wine," she kissed the spot beneath Hermione's ear and whispered, "Too much excitement."
Hermione jerked in response, and felt Bellatrix's smile against her neck.
"Now, doveling, would you like to go somewhere with me?"
Hermione couldn't think beyond the feeling of those lips against her skin. Somehow she struggled out, "Y-yessss."
"Alright then," Bellatrix pulled away at once, a wicked grin spreading across her features, "Let's go."