Here's another chapter, I hope you enjoy it. I've got the foreseeable future worked out, I'm just trying to figure out how to end it, which could take a while. In the meantime, here's another bit. Enjoy. Istalindar
&
It was Christmas day, and Hermione was…listless. She hadn't seen Lucius in days, though she had received his note giving strict orders that she was not to leave her rooms. It was because Narcissa was home, she had heard from the House-Elf before it cracked itself over the head with her dinner tray. It made sense, in a way, but Hermione couldn't help thinking that if Lucius really wanted her, then he wouldn't care that his spoiled wife was home. Draco's words kept coming back to her, about how she meant nothing to Lucius.
Hermione shook her head and stepped onto the balcony, staring out across the garden. It had stopped snowing, but it was absolutely freezing. Hermione shivered and looked down.
And saw Narcissa Malfoy glaring up at her.
Hermione immediately retreated, shutting the doors to the balcony quickly.
Lucius, Narcissa saw me! Hermione exclaimed hastily.
What? He sounded pissed. What exactly were you doing to make her notice you? He demanded.
I was only on the balcony and she was in the garden. Hermione explained hastily. I looked down and she looked up and she looks really mad.
Of course she does. Just…hold your tongue. I'll be there in a moment.
There was a sharp pop and Hermione looked up and winced. Narcissa Malfoy stood there, tall, thin and elegant in long ice-blue robes. Her blue eyes burned furiously.
"Who are you?" she asked. Hermione bit her lip, but didn't answer. "You're quite young." Narcissa commented, stepping forward and circling Hermione, who stood as still as she could. "Too young, really, for my husband. What are you doing here?" Hermione didn't answer. "Girl! Answer me." Narcissa snapped. Hermione didn't, and Narcissa stepped close to Hermione, staring hard at her. Then she smiled. "I know you." She said, her features relaxing into a smile that almost made her pretty. She smiled wider, and began to look a bit feral. "Of course I do. The World Cup. You're Potter's little bitch, aren't you?" Hermione bit her lip to stop from replying.
Hermione! When I come in there, kneel at my feet, call me sir and don't look me in the eye. Understand? Lucius didn't give her a chance to answer, throwing the door open and striding into the room. Hermione immediately did as she was told, running to fall on her knees at Lucius' feet, eyes on the ground.
"Sir." She whispered. Narcissa laughed.
"No master, Lucius? That is quite uncommon for the girls playing your slave-games." She commented. Lucius met her gaze with an icy glare.
"What are you doing in here?" He demanded. Narcissa shrugged.
"I was curious. I saw her and thought maybe I should see who the strange child was in my house. You are aware that she's Draco's age, right? What you're doing is practically paedophilia." She smiled venemously. "The only reason I'm not mad is it's just so funny. Have you been reduced to children now Lucius?" Narcissa taunted.
"You don't wish to know the answer to that question, Narcissa." Lucius commented. "Just as I would not want to know your answer." Narcissa glared.
"I don't want her in my house." She snapped. Lucius shrugged.
"You haven't got a choice." He replied nonchalantly.
"Get her out Lucius, or I will-" Narcissa began dangerously.
"You'll nothing." Lucius interrupted calmly. "She's not my pet, dear, she's the Dark Lord's. I'm her Keeper, not her Master."
"What?" Narcissa asked, shocked. "The Dark Lord has taken a mudblood pet?"
"She's not just any mudblood, Narcissa." Lucius said patronizingly. "You said it yourself. She's Potter's bitch." Narcissa shuddered and swept from the room, leaving Lucius and Hermione alone as she slammed the door. Hermione immediately climbed to her feet.
"Thank you." She said fervently. "I thought she might behead me."
"She might have done." Lucius agreed, heading for the door. Hermione caught his hand.
"Lucius." He looked down at her.
"What?"
"Stay?" He shook his head.
"I've got important things to do." He said. "I can't. Much less when Narcissa's home. Go to sleep, Hermione. And stay inside. The less contact you have with my wife the better." Hermione nodded, and watched Lucius leave.
That night she dreamed she was running through the manor, chasing the pink rubies from her bracelet, but her path kept being blocked by black snakes that hissed at her. When she ran past the window she saw a carriage pull up and Lucius climb out, holding his hand to someone else. But she never saw them, instead she was back to chasing the rubies.
&
Christmas passed, and both Narcissa and Draco left. It seemed, however, that in the short time that they had paused their habitual sharing of beds, Lucius had lost interest in her. He rarely spoke to her now, and even her occlumency lessons trailed off, leaving her with nothing to do but her exercises and her constant reading.
She reminded herself repeatedly that Lucius was an exceedingly busy man, and that he now trusted that she well enough that she didn't need his constant nurturing. While she appreciated that he thought she was strong enough and independent enough that she didn't need his coddling, it didn't stop her wanting it.
Still, he had things to do and she was a big girl now. And the books…
However, something that wasn't becoming uncommon was her wandering while she read. And as often as it trailed to Lucius, it wandered to Draco. It was kinda cute, the way Draco seemed to try to 'rescue' her from the big bad Lucius, as though Lucius would actually hurt her. And he had grown up nicely. Still, Hermione was beginning to think she liked her men just that tad bit less green.
I.e. given the choice, she'd go for Malfoy Snr as opposed to Malfoy Jnr.
No matter how sweet of Draco it was to try and protect her, and how nicely he'd grown up since she last saw him at the end of July, just hours before she'd been kidnapped by Madeleine. It was funny, actually, how easily she'd slipped into the routine here. She didn't even think of escape at all. And why should she? Hermione chuckled, looking back at her book. Lucius cared about her, even if he was super busy right now.
Spring was coming, the snow (way too much snow for southern England) was melting, and from it was rising purple and yellow crocuses and snowdrops. It had started raining, slow, constant unending drizzle. Hermione lived pointlessly, reading from the library on any topic she could get her hands on, Dark, Light, pointless, useful, fiction, nonfiction…it was something to fill the endless hours it appeared she had. At this point, even a visit from the Dark Lord himself would be welcome. As long as he didn't bring those vile creatures with him. On the other hand, if he did, perhaps Lucius would make the disgust and self-hatred vanish again. The pros and cons of being Voldemort's pet.
However, Voldemort didn't visit, and neither did Lucius. Spring rolled on, warming very gradually and constantly raining. Narcissa stayed well away, and the library seemed smaller than it originally had. Hermione had never known it was possible, but books were getting boring. She wanted to do something that didn't involve pacing.
On the upside, her legs were getting better. She could go without a staff for up to two hours now, thought at the end of it she was tired and her legs would cramp.
It was one of those cool, but not cold, wet days that Draco's predictions came true. Hermione was standing by the window on the upper landing, staring blankly out at the grey countryside that surrounded the Manor, when she saw a carriage draw up on the gravel drive before the house. She saw Lucius descend quickly, dressed handsomely in black as always, and then he extended his hand to someone within the carriage. A pink-gloved hand took it, and a hooded woman followed, the two of them hurrying quickly into the house.
Hermione quickly stepped away from the window and looked over the banister. The pair came into the lobby, shedding wet cloaks so Hermione could see properly. The woman was petite, with curling honey-gold hair swept up at the back of her head, but some of it was coming free, dangling in perfect curls around her face. She wore beautiful rose-pink dress robes that suited her perfectly, enhancing every inch of her amazing body. Hermione couldn't help glaring, and the woman picked up on it, turning and looking up. Hermione drew back quickly.
"Lucius?" Her voice was sweet, but a tad too high. "Who was the girl I saw up there?" Lucius laughed.
"A girl?" He questioned.
"Yes, I'm quite sure I saw her. Dark hair, quite uncontrollable."
"Ah, you mean Hermione. She's…I'm her guardian."
"What? Is she homeless?" The woman questioned. Lucius chuckled.
"Not as such. But I look after her."
"That is so darling of you." She trilled. Hermione grimaced.
Lucius, who on earth is she? Hermione asked with a mental laugh. She's rather shrill.
She's Lady Gemma Forsythe, and none of your business. Stay out of my mind. Lucius said sharply. Hermione frowned, stepping once more to the banister to get another look at the woman that Draco had mentioned as one of Lucius' lovers. Unfortunately, Gemma was watching for her.
"There she is! Come down here, darling child, I must get a look at you!" Hermione hesitated, but at a look from Lucius she reluctantly dragged herself down the stairs. She came to a halt in front of them, and found she was at least an inch taller than Gemma.
"Lucius, she's no child. She must be seventeen at least." Gemma said, sounding slightly more disapproving.
"I never said she was a child, sweetness." He murmured in her ear, making her smile as his breath made her curls tickle her ear. Gemma giggled and Hermione resisted the urge to be sick.
We need to talk. She said silently to Lucius. He met her gaze, and the impassivity she saw there shocked her.
About what? he questioned.
About us! she exclaimed. Lucius chuckled in her head.
You silly little girl. he said. There is no 'us'. You were nothing to me…you are aware of that, right? Hermione stared dumbly at him, shock and horror reducing her to silence. Oh, you didn't know. Well. Now you do. Run along. Hermione gaped. Hermione, go! he snapped, and she fled.
Back in her room, Hermione threw herself on her bed and sobbed. Lucius was meant to care about her! Of course he had never said it, after all, he had a reputation to consider, but she had always known he cared. If he didn't care, she reasoned, why did he insist she did her exercises? If he didn't care, why did he bring her books? If he didn't care, she paused and looked at the silver and ruby bracelet still around her wrist. If he didn't care, why did he give this to her? She glared at it, then out the window.
He cared. Of course he cared. But he had to put up a front, a show, that made him look to be interested in the beautiful, well dressed, well connected pureblood witches that no-doubt flocked to him in droves. That's all it was. And the brush off he gave her was just a ploy to make her leave, because he couldn't have her around throwing doubts into Gemma's little mind about his intentions.
Now it all made sense. And with a satisified smile, Hermione let herself fall asleep.
&
It didn't improve though. Gemma was around all the time, her shrill voice echoing around the Manor. It disgusted Hermione, the way Lucius so blatantly played with her, like a cat and mouse. Or like playing serious games with a child, because that was all Gemma was in comparison to him. A child.
He didn't even speak to her anymore if he could help it. And Hermione couldn't help it if she mourned that. Well, more than mourned it. She moped around her bedroom, completely at a loss of what to do. She couldn't leave, but staying here was unbearable. She couldn't talk to him, because he shunned her. And there was no one else to talk to because the House-Elves didn't like talking either, it scared them. So Hermione spent her time alone in her own private hell, occasionally delving into her books but spending more and more time at the window, staring across the estate and watching winter vanish as she twisted the bracelet around her wrist.
Days passed, and Hermione found she couldn't, in the end, be bothered to move, or eat, or read or do anything in fact. All she did was remember the time she spent with Lucius, when he had sat with her, eaten with her, laughed, argued, spoken…slept with her. Every moment she spent with him seemed burned into her mind and she couldn't forget, she could only keep playing and replaying them in her mind like some sort of one sided movie. The House-Elves brought her food but she picked at it. She didn't reach out for Lucius now, she didn't reach out at all. Didn't speak, didn't listen, didn't move, barely ate. She just looked out the window and remembered, the calm silence of her room making no distraction at all.
Until someone knocked on her door and then entered without waiting for an answer.
&