I've been gone a long time, I know, and I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone who's stuck with me despite the fact that I haven't updated in nearly five months. I'm still working on everything, promise…it's just slow work at the moment but as soon as I have stuff to put up and intenet to put it up on, you'll have it. Thanks so much for your patience. Istalindar
&
In her dream she was running, something she hadnt done for months. She was running up and down the hallways in the great country house she was confined in, looking for something. Every so often she'd turn a corner and come across a coiled black snake with golden eyes blocking the hallways, and she'd hastily turn and head in the opposite direction.
She was chasing a few sparkling pink orbs, some of which led her to dead ends, to the snakes or to a huge bay window that overlooked the grounds of the manor house. Outside, below the window, was a carriage, sitting horseless in the great drive. The door opened, but she never saw who got out.
"Hermione." She looked around, searching for the source of the now-familiar and, if she was honest, welcome voice. It had been all she had heard for the past three weeks, but she still couldn't locate him.
"Hermione." Again, the elusive voice calling her. She spun on the spot by the bay window, looking behind and around her. Nothing. Damn him, where was he? She signed and resigned herself to calling.
"Malfoy!" She sat bolt upright in bed as the name was torn from her lips, the movement making her muscles scream in protest. She let herself fall back onto the bed with a groan, and sighed in relief as her muscles relaxed and the pain ebbed.
He chuckled, turning the vanity chair backwards so he could straddle it and rest his arms on the backrest as he watched her from cool grey eyes. She turned her head so she could face him.
"Good morning." He said with a smile. "And I've told you to call me Lucius. It's not that hard, is it?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Habit. Morning to you too." She snuggled deeper under the white duvet, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Still in bed at this time?" He asked teasingly. She shrugged.
"It's cold in here." She slowly pushed herself into sitting position, the duvet falling to her waist. She glanced down and saw her state of semi-undress and she pulled the duvet up to her shoulders.
"I hardly think that modesty now is appropriate." He commented. "You've been in my house coming on four months now, slept in one of my beds for a quarter of that time. If I was going to ravage you, it would have happened by now." Hermione smiled weakly.
"That's comforting," she commented, "Though it's still cold in here." She shrugged, then regarded him more thoughtfully. "So, to what do I owe the honour of your visit to my rooms at such an ungodly hour?"
"It's ten in the morning, Hermione." Lucius remarked. "Have a shower, get dressed, eat breakfast. Meet me in the library at eleven." He stood and bowed low, and Hermione smiled and watched as he left and shut the door behind him.
Immediately she through back the covers, reaching for the silver birch staff as she rose unsteadily to her feet. It had been nearly a month since Lucius had fixed her broken bones and she could only walk even now with the staff or someone helping to support her weight.
In the shower, Hermione shedded her clothes and sank onto the stone seat under the spray, washing herself from sitting down. She had found her arms had regained the strength and mobility much faster than her legs, though her writing was still appalling, though neater, she had been surprised to discover, with her left hand than with her original right. She turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the counter and dried herself off as well as she could. Hauling herself back to her room, she collapsed, exhausted, onto her bed.
She stared morosely at the wardrobe on the other side of the room and the servants bell within arms reach. She hated calling for the house elves, still being SPEWs most fervent supporter, but it looked like she had little choice. Lucius' sense of reality may be somewhat lacking, but he hated being kept waiting.
She rang the bell and watched as Dimmy, the house-elf assigned to Hermione, appeared.
"Miss?" the house-elf asked hopefully.
"I need a bit of help." Hermione said sheepishly. She glanced at the clock, she still had half an hour before she had to meet Lucius. The house-elf looked stunned for a moment before jumping up and down, clapping her hands joyfully.
"Ooh, miss! What is it miss wants Dimmy to do?" Dimmy asked earnestly.
"Well, I need some breakfast if its not too big a bother." Hermione bit her lip.
"No, no! Miss, anything else?"
"A bit of help getting dressed – my legs still aren't strong enough." The house elf nodded and bounded over to the wardrobe.
"Does miss know what she wants to wear?"
"My ripped jeans and a button down shirt." Hermione said after a moment's pause. Dimmy cheerfully retrieved the items plus underwear and laid them before Hermione.
"Anything else?" Dimmy asked. "Does miss need help putting them on?" Hermione saw a tray of breakfast materialise out of the corner of her eye and nodded.
"Please."
Dimmy was clearly ecstatic to be finally helping her stubbornly independent mistress, her tennis-ball eyes sparkling as she briskly dressed Hermione and plaited her long bushy hair into a heavy plait that hung down her back in a thick rope. Clearly familiar with Hermione's spartan makeup regime, she applied it before Hermione even noticed what she was doing.
"There, miss is ready." Dimmy stepped back and Hermione glanced in the mirror, half-expecting to look an absolute mess. If anything, she looked better than she usually did.
"Thanks, Dimmy." Hermione said. She glanced at the clock. 10:59.
"Shit!" Hermione grabbed a strawberry and her staff and hobbled as fast as she could to the library. She pushed the large door open with her shoulder and stumbled inside. Lucius turned and set down the book he had been reading.
"Late." He commented.
"Exhausted." Hermione retorted. She sank unbidden into an armchair. "It's a longer walk than I thought."
"Have you been doing your exercises?" Lucius questioned.
"As often as I can." Hermione replied, "It's not like I enjoy being a cripple."
"You're hardly a cripple, Hermione." Lucius commented. Hermione didn't answer, "Draco has decided to stay at school over the Halloween break." She nodded in acknowledgement.
"Is it that time already?"
"The beginning of October, Hermione. Halloween isnt for a few weeks, yet."
"Forward planning," Hermione muttered. Lucius smiled.
"Quite," He sat in the armchair across from her. "So."
"Is there a reason you dragged me out of bed and halfway across a town-sized house at eleven in the morning?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Perhaps I just enjoy your company." Lucius suggested. Hermione snorted. "You doubt me?" He asked innocently.
"Lucius, I'm not stupid. I know you're keeping me here for a reason, as dictated by Voldemort. As soon as you two decide what to do with me, and realise I'm not just going to do what I'm told, you'll get rid of me. Simple as that."
"My lady, you wound me." Lucius said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I shall tell you the truth." He said decisively. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "The truth is, none of us expected you to keep quiet during Madeleine's…questioning. No one ever has, you see." He paused. "Now we have the problem of what to do with you. Since you're clearly not going to tell us anything except where to shove various torture instruments," Hermione smirked, "We just have the problem of what to do with you."
"Kill me." Hermione suggested cheerfully. Lucius looked thoughtful.
"An idea." He mused. "And yet…messy. While it would solve our problem, I prefer to dispose of people with somewhat more style and elegance. As I have yet to think up something suitably fitting for you, something brutal would never do, you see, you're stuck here."
"So Voldemort's ordered you to dispose of me." Hermione said, feeling strangely calm.
"The Dark Lord," Lucius corrected. "Hasn't ordered anything of the sort. He left you to me and told me you were mine to amuse myself as I would until I tired of you and killed you." Hermione stared at him blankly.
"I cant believe you find me particularly amusing." Hermione managed. Lucius smiled.
"You have your ways, Hermione." She rolled her eyes again and looked out the windows to her left. "Anyway, there's a reason I called you to the library."
"Besides my sparkling personality, you mean?" She asked dryly, her gaze returning to him. Damn it, he was handsome. Just like his stupid-ass son. Actually it was more like it was clear where his stupid-ass son got his good looks from.
Stupid Malfoys.
"When you've quite finished insulting my son and family name, Hermione," Lucius said calmly. Hermione gaped.
"You're an occlumence?" She demanded. "Have you been reading my thoughts this entire time?"
"No, not really. That last thought simply happened to be very loud." He said smugly.
"Teach me." Hermione said suddenly. Lucius looked surprised. "Teach me how to be an occlumence." She pressed.
"Why do you want to be an occlumence?" Lucius asked.
"It's an interesting skill to have." Hermione shrugged.
"Hermione, as much as I hate repeating myself, I'll remind you. There is little to no chance of you leaving this manor alive."
"But there's a tinsy bit of chance." Hermione said optimistically.
"Yes, that the Dark Lord will have you taken to him so that he can watch you being executed." Lucius rolled his eyes. "Harsh as it may seem, Hermione, this is your reality."
"Okay, fair enough." She conceded. "But I'm bored!"
"What about your schoolbooks?" Lucius asked, arching one elegant eyebrow.
"Read them all. Memorised most of them." Hermione tapped her head with one finger. "I absorb information easily."
"You mean you suck it up like a sponge." Lucius muttered. "It takes a long time to become a skilled occlumence, you know." Hermione shrugged.
"I'm not going anywhere." Lucius watched her for a long time, and she soon felt a headache developing. Suddenly realising what was happening, she visualised him running into huge thick walls, and he leaned back in his chair with a laugh. Her headache lessoned.
"Well done, though it took you a while to realise I was in your head." Hermione frowned.
"Wait – if its so easy to get in my head and nosy around, why cant you just go in and pick Harry's whereabouts out of my skull?" Lucius spread his hands helplessly.
"We've tried." He shrugged. "But someone, not you, has put that information under lock and key. You can access it, we cant."
"You mean someone's been messing around inside my head?" Hermione asked. "Who?"
"Who do you think?"
"Dumbledore" she said instantly. "Or…no." she subsided, working furiously to banish thoughts of the other from her mind.
"That's interesting." Lucius steepled his fingers as he leaned back and regarded her coolly.
"What is?" Hermione asked innocently.
"Why would Severus Snape want to alter your mind?" He pondered. A slow wolf's smile spread across his face.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod
"He hates Harry more than he hates me!" Hermione blurted out.
"Does he now?" Lucius asked coldly.
"Lucius please!" Hermione begged. She scrambled from her chair and nearly fell into an untidy heap in his lap. Instead she managed to stay on her knees. "Please!"
"Please what?" Lucius' long fingers stroked over Hermione's hair, flicking away the hair tie and freeing her hair from its braid. "Why does the man who caused you so much pain mean so much to you?" Hermione didn't answer, and she deliberately kept her mind as blank as possible, and when that failed, filled her mind with the unicorns and cherubs from Fantasia. Lucius grinned.
"See? You're improving already. And don't worry about your precious Potions master, the Dark Lord knows already." He stood and held out his hand to Hermione, who took it.
"You mean you already knew about him? That was just a 'lesson'?" She spat. Lucius smiled.
"My dear girl, you are no longer in the safe world that Dumbledore liked to keep you in. You asked to learn occlumency and I'm teaching you. The first step is learning to defend your own mind." He let her hand drop and walked to the door, turning back when he reached it. "I actually asked you here to tell you that you may use the library and read to your heart's content. Enjoy." He slipped through the doors and was gone.
"Bastard." She muttered.
Manners, Hermione. his voice tutted in her head.
Get out of my head, Lucius. she shot back.
Make me. she could practically see his smile. She envisioned pushing him out of her mind's door and locking it behind him. She turned back to the library with a sigh.
Her head was silent.
&
The library was Hermione's version of paradise. It was absolutely huge, and filled with books that taught both light and dark magic, history and prophecy. Most of Hermione's waking hours were spent in the library, poring over books often wider than her own head. Dark or light magic lost distinction in her search for knowledge, but it occurred to her several times that she rarely even thought of escape anymore, so caught up in the books was she. This thought filled her with an uneasy feeling like she was betraying her family and friends, but she quickly suppressed it and concentrated on the idea that she was gathering information for Dumbledore.
Information he could have got from any of the books you're reading. It's hardly spying – these books were published and so are public.
Shut upLucius occasionally joined her in the library (or in her head) and they talked about almost anything – occlumency, what she was reading that day, what they were doing at school, how work at the ministry was going. Lucius didn't seem to be guarded about anything – if Hermione asked a question, he answered.
So far she hadn't dared to ask about Voldemort. Still, she enjoyed their conversations, and she learnt a great deal about him. He, like Draco, had grown up as the 'little lord' with a largely useless mother and an autocratic father. He didn't ever mention details of his life after his 18th birthday, and Hermione could easily guess what happened then.
He continued to teach her occlumency, too. It occurred to Hermione tht he was wielding a double edged sword in doing so, that while he was teaching her to guard her mind and invade the minds of others, she could conceivably turn those weapons on him.
The prospect seemed less and less likely, actually, as time went on. She enjoyed his company, which he lavished upon her freely, along with many other gifts. Her clothes, for example. Her wardobe continued to expant, despite her protests that it was unnecessary. Labels like Chloé, Hermés, Ralph Lauren (the wizarding branch, obviously) and more started to appear in her closet, much to her rather embarassed delight. When Hermione's 18th birthday rolled around (thanks to the time turner) in late November, Lucius gave her a beautiful silver charm bracelet from which hung tiny faceted tear drop pink rubies and tiny silver charms, which she took to wearing constantly.
Now and then Hermione wondered what he was up to. He was a deatheater, Hermione knew that, and so worked for Voldemort, but at the moment he was being so kind and generous and funny and - Hermione cut off that line of thought. She was here, and alive, for as long as Lucius and Voldemort wanted her here, seeing as she was a mudblood, and Voldemort and his followers wanted to rid the world of mudbloods, she figured it wouldn't be too long begore she was killed or otherwise dealt with. She figured she enjoy her time alive while she still could.
&
Hermione looked up to see Lucius walk into the library. Hermione She smiled, but he didn't return the gesture.
What is it? she questioned wordlessly.
The Dark Lord wishes to see you. Tonight. Hermione shot to her feet, the book falling to the floor with a thud. She reeled, grabbing for her staff, and Lucius steadied her.
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" she asked quietly. Lucius shrugged elegantly, his face cold and blank, a look she recognised from Draco.
"Clothes are waiting for you in your room." He said flatly. She nodded, readjusting her grip on her staff.
"How long."
"An hour before we leave." She nodded again and turned her back on the pale handsome man and made her way to her room as quickly as she could. The tears were streaming before she even reached her door.
&
Layed out on her bed was a long black skirt and a fluffy black wool sweater that fastened up the front with silver clips. However, as Hermione discovered when she pulled it over her bra the 'buttons' didn't go up far enough. The shoulders of the cardigan kept falling off her shoulders and the swell of her breasts could be seen. She sighed and almost without thinking, rang the servant bell. Dimmy appeared, smiling delightedly as she always did when her mistress summoned her.
"Yes Miss Hermione?"
"Could you please straighten my hair and twist it up? I still cant make my hands do it up properly."
"Miss shouldn't need to – Dimmy wants to help miss." Hermione sat at the vanity and watched the still form of her reflection as Dimmy effortlessly twisted up Hermione's hair. Hermione put on platinum and diamond earrings but left her throat bare. Dimmy set about putting Hermione's makeup on, making her eyes smoky and lining the lids with dark grey-blue.
"What's the special occasion, miss?" she asked, stepping back to admire her handywork.
"The Dark Lord has requested my presence." Hermione said, standing up in the suddenly-silent room. She scooped up the black shoes by the bed and put them on, then turned back to see Dimmy staring at her, wide-eyed.
"But miss is Muggleborn!" Dimmy exclaimed. Hermione nodded. "So Grand Master will kill miss." Hermione shrugged.
"Probably." Hermione picked up the heavy black velvet cloak and swung it around her shoulders. "Goodbye, Dimmy. And thanks." She smiled again and turned to open the door, and instead found Lucius stood in the open doorway, her staff in his hands.
"How touching." He sneered. A 'pop' announced Dimmy's departure.
"Time?" Hermione asked tiredly. Lucius thrust her staff at her in answer and spun on his heel, expecting her to follow.
She did.
&
The coach ride passed in rigid silence; Hermione staring at the snow-coated landscape and Lucous feigning sleep. It was a week until Christmas, Hermione mused. What a Christmas gift that would be – dying. She rolled her eyes at her own morbidity and tentatively reached out to Lucius mind – and was repelled so violently she gasped.
"I'm not in the mood for company." He said flatly without opening his eyes.
"I'm sorry," She whispered. His eyes opened, and the carriage drew to a halt.
"Don't speak until spoken to." He said sharply. "When you are brought into his presence, kneel and bow your head. Watch your thoughts."
"Thanks." She said quietly. He nodded swiftly and swept from the carriage.
"Follow me." He ordered. She did, walking as swiftly as she could with her staff.
They entered a great house, and Lucius breezed straight through the main entrance hall without pausing. He stopped before a set of extravagant double doors and gave his cloak to a bowing servant. The servant gestured for Hermione's cloak, and she handed it over. The doors opened and Lucius strode though. Hermione followed and instantly felt hundreds of hateful eyes boring into her. She straightened instinctively.
"Mudblood." The whisper passed though the assembled deatheaters.
Stop there. Kneel. Hermione did as she was told unquestioningly, bowing her head so her neck was exposed.
Lambs to the slaughter. She thought mirthlessly. I always assumed I'd die fighting. Funny thing, that.
"Indeed, Hermione." The use of her name made her jerk, but she did not look up. "It is Hermione, isn't it?"
She nodded. "Yes sir." She whispered.
"Yes, my lord." Voldemort hissed. She felt rather than saw Lucius tense in front of her.
"Yes, my lord." She repeated. Voldemort chuckled.
"Come forward." Hermione slowly got to her feet. "Leave the stick." Hermione let the staff fall to the floor with a loud clatter in the silent room and slowly looked up. Voldemort watched her with his red eyes, and she slowly stepped forward, her limbs trembling. "You are still weak." He observed.
"Yes my lord." Hermione answered softly.
"Madeleine…" Voldemort sneered but held out his hand. Hermione took a deep breath and tentatively laid her hand in his. "Sit here by me." He let her sink to the floor at his feet, where she sat stiffly, expecting a blade in her back or suchlike any second. She looked at Lucius, but he was staring fixedly at Voldemort. "Madeleine!"
Madeleine stepped forward and Hermione noticed that she looked considerably the worse for wear.
"Yes, my lord?" she asked.
"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione gasped and jerked back as Madeleine's corpse thudded to the floor, the head lolling to the side so the empty eyes stared unrelentingly at Hermione. To Hermione's disgust, she could feel Voldemort's hand on her head, stroking her hair. "Hush, Hermione, it's alright." Hermione's stomach surged upwards at the doting tone and she clamped her lips together tightly to stop herself throwing up. "I like the mudblood." He announced. "She's a lovely pet. So pretty." He caressed the side of her face, along her jaw line. He smiled and Hermione bowed her head.
A fate worse than death…
Shut up, you stupid girl! The voice barked in her head.
"Lucius shall care for my pet, as he has done so admirably in the past. But first…come, pet. I have something for you." Hermione followed Voldemort away from the main hall, fighting her tears of horror.
I will not cry. She told herself fiercely. I will not cry.
"Look there, pet." Voldemort opened a door and ushered her inside and Hermione's eyes widened.
&
The entire court stood waiting for Voldemort for three hours. The deatheaters talked softly among themselves about Voldemort and his new pet and Lucius, looking around, locked eyes with Snape, who seemed paler than usual. Lucius crossed to his side.
"You looked shocked." He said quietly.
"She looks well considering she was under Madeleine for six months."
"Three months." Lucius corrected. "She's been recuperating at the Manor since then." Snape shot him an incredulous look. "She's fond of you, you know, despite your determination to encourage dislike from your students."
"You've been caring for her for three months." Snape said disbelievingly.
"The Dark Lord commanded it. Luicius said. The double doors swung open, ending their conversation, and all the Deatheaters snapped to attention.
Voldemort swept in, followed by Hermione who stood straight and stared straight ahead, but Lucius saw the wild look in her eyes, the scratch across her breastbone and the tumbled disarray her hair was in. And he needed only a second's stretch to her mind to see the chaos in her head.
"Lucius," Voldemort said silkily. Lucius stepped forward. "You may take her back to the Manor now." Lucius nodded, and Hermione bent and picked up her staff. Both bowed and left the hall.