The first of the tears came when Hermione was taking her first bath in a while. She sat in the large golden tub and stared out at the view of the sea that she had from the window beside her. She wasn't thinking of anything emotional, but the tears came. She felt them burn her eyes and roll down her face quickly, plopping into the soapy water. She wiped her cheeks with her soapy hands and sniffled quietly, trying not to think much of it.
When she was speaking to the house elves in the kitchen, the tears streaked her face. The house elves rushed to her side, asking her what was wrong and offering various handkerchiefs. She laughed and sniffled as she grabbed them all courteously, dabbing at her eyes carefully. "I'm fine, I'm fine really," she assured them all, giggling as she handed the linens back.
Hermione never cried often unless she had a good reason to, and even then it was rare. She's cried over men before, and loss. But now, she didn't have much to cry over. She had to look at the bright side of things - she was being given a place to live, clothes to wear, and food to eat; even if it was in her 'husband's' home.
'Perhaps that is why I'm crying?' Hermione mused silently as she trailed her fingers across a banister as she strolled up the stairs. 'Maybe my body is mourning my stay here.' She smiled sadly as she rubbed her eyes.
Blake and Lady Wright had disapparated together early that morning. Hermione didn't bother to ask where they were going, she just nodded absentmindedly as Blake spoke to her about his work. She watched as they disapparated together with a deafening crack, and then went to search for something to do. She spent the rest of the day following the house elves around and exploring the mansion on her own.
Slowly, she walked through the corridors of the mansion, turning her face back and forth to look at the numerous paintings. She looked at their many faces and studied them carefully. In one of the paintings there was a group of giggling women, sitting together in a group with a group of men surrounding them, watching them hungrily. "Oh, look what we have here," one of them said, looking down her nose at Hermione.
"Lumos maximas," Hermione said, pointing her lit wand at the painting to get a better look.
"Get that blasted thing out of my face!" another hissed.
Hermione, used to hurtful words, did not even wince at the Veela woman's hostility. "Who are you?" she inquired. She cocked her head to the side.
"Read the plaque below, darling," said the one in the middle. She toyed with a hand of the man behind her and kissed it tenderly, looking up at him with doe eyes and grinning. He laughed exuberantly.
Hermione lowered her wand and read the plaque. "Sloane, Darla, Whitney, Flora, and Luisa Wright." She narrowed her eyes and looked up at the painting again. "How are you related to the Wright's?" she asked curiously.
Whitney, the one in the middle, answered her first. "We are Cornelius's half-sisters."
Sloane, on the far left, added nastily, "Not that that is any of your business." She gave Hermione a dirty once-over. "What are you doing here? No mudblood has set ever foot in Wright Manor, and I didn't think that precious Lady Wright would allow that to happen while she was alive."
"Barely alive," Darla corrected, giggling.
Hermione glared at the group of girls and refrained from ripping the painting. "I see that bigotry is passed down through the family," she muttered angrily.
"As is ugliness," Flora, second from the right, added immaturely. The rest of the girls went into a fit of giggles, taking pride in Hermione's slight embarrassment, and booed her as she stomped down the corridor.
"Such disgusting attitudes!" Hermione exclaimed to herself as she rounded a corner.
"Dolly?" Hermione called aloud after turning a few more corners. She heard a loud crack and smiled at the house elf before her.
"Yes, miss?"
"Where is the library?" Hermione asked the house elf. She knew that, in a home like this, there would have to be a library somewhere.
"There's a small library in master's study, but Dolly don't know if master would like it if you are in there . . ." Dolly answered, nervously tugging at the hem of her tattered dress.
"He won't have to know, now would he?" Hermione replied quickly. "Could you show me the way?"
Dolly looked around them apprehensively, as if waiting for Master Blake to round the corner and order her to do otherwise. She led Hermione through the corridors and up a few flights of stairs, and stopped in front of a wooden door with a golden door knob. "Master's study is at the top of the Wright Tower," Dolly said, pointing a shaking finger upwards. When Hermione nodded Dolly turned to go, but looked at Hermione with large, scared eyes. "Please be quick, Miss," she pleaded quietly. She disapparated suddenly and Hermione felt her heart break. Dolly seemed to be extremely afraid of Blake.
"Alohamora," Hermione said, pointing her wand to the door. The lock slid open and the door opened with an ominous creaking sound. She stepped inside and followed the spiraling stairs up to the very top where they seemed to disappear in a black abyss. Her eyes widened, who could survive making the trip up all of those stairs? She sighed and began walking up the stairs, determined to get to the study. If it really was Blake's study she would be able to find out more about him. If he worked for the Ministry, and possibly close to Voldemort himself, then he would definitely have some important documents in his office.
She heard a shrill laugh echo from the top of the stairs. She narrowed her eyes and rushed quickly up the stairs, following the laugh as it rang towards her. "Aparecium!" she yelled, pointing her wand up towards the darkness.
The laugh turned into a cackling, getting louder and louder as if closing in on Hermione. She pushed herself up against the stone wall and poised her wand, ready to battle, when suddenly a ghost rushed into her, pressing itself against her. Hermione shivered and gagged as she felt the entity enter her slowly. "Mudblood," it hissed. She recognized the voice immediately. "Filthy little mudblood! Stepping foot into my castle? Who gave you the right?" She felt it's hand enclose around her forearm. "Dirt runs through your veins, you filthy half-breed. Your self worth is as low as the respect that you have in this world now. You are worth nothing."
Hermione felt the cold air hit her cheek as she listened to the ghost. She felt tears prick her eyes. This was all too much like that night in Malfoy Manor. She felt the fading scars on her forearm burn. "Ah, my handiwork," the ghost sighed happily, running her silver fingers along Hermione's forearm. Hermione began to panic, fumbling for her wand and against the ghost. "REPELLO!" she screamed as a last resort, tears beginning to run down her face. Hermione kept her eyes shut as the ghost pushed off of her, flying towards the closest window with a deafening crash.
Hermione collected herself, holding back tears as she marched up the rest of the stairs. She tried disapparating multiple times along the way but she couldn't - she couldn't tell whether it was because of the wards that were set or if it was because her mind was flooded with thoughts of Bellatrix Lestrange. Finally, the disapparation worked and she found herself in the study. She shut her eyes, barely giving herself a chance to see her surroundings, and laid down on the carpeted floor. She hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed.
"Granger?" she heard behind her.
Hermione wiped at her eyes furiously and looked over her shoulder. She gasped.
"Draco Malfoy?" she hissed, standing up quickly and drawing her wand. What was this loathsome ferret doing here? "What business do you have here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he responded nastily, pointing his wand at her as well.
"I just so happen to live here," she spat. She hated saying it but it was the truth.
Draco glared at the girl. Did she take him for a fool? "Don't make me laugh. Why would the Wrights allow a muggle-born into their house? You can't expect me to believe that."
"It's the truth! And why are you here?" she demanded. She stepped closer to him, her eyes narrowing down to slits.
"If you must know," Draco drawled, strolling around the large mahogany desk he stood behind and towards the sofa that Hermione stood near. "Blake had told me to wait for him in his study. We have a few matters to discuss." He eyed Hermione curiously, noticing how disoriented she looked. "What was all that screaming out there?"
"Nothing," Hermione answered quickly. She glared at Malfoy. She couldn't forgive him for anything he had ever done to her.
There was a loud crack and the two looked at the door, from which Blake came. He grinned at the two. "Hello Draco," he greeted him, shaking his hand. He leaned in to kiss Hermione's cheek but she winced, and he quickly covered up by kissing her hand instead. "Draco this is my lovely wife Hermione," he introduced the two before taking his place behind his desk.
"We already know each other," Draco sneered. "Unfortunately."
Blake looked up and saw that Hermione hadn't moved from her place. "Was there something you needed, my love?" Blake asked. He noticed her puffy red eyes and her shaking hands. "You all right?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she answered, nodding her head vigorously. She vowed to ask him about the ghost later on at dinner.
"Would you excuse us, then? We have some work to do," he asked politely. Draco turned in his seat with an amused smirk as he watched Hermione squirm under her husband's watchful eye.
"I was actually looking for some books to read," she said defiantly. She went for the bookshelves behind the desk, trying to ignore Blake's gaze on her as she moved.
"Be quick then," he instructed coolly before turning to Draco. "Now about the exterminations; the Aurors have worked on a list of possible refugees. The Ministry is trying to get the list out to governments across the world to seek these people out."
"Seems a bit desperate, doesn't it? Is it that important?" Draco asked, leaning back in his chair and running a hand along his stubbly jaw.
"It is to the King. You should see the names on the list," Blake responded. He handed Draco a piece of parchment.
Draco's eyes scanned the list curiously, his eyes darting up to Hermione to make sure she wasn't listening in. He recognized some of the names as those of kids he went to Hogwarts with. "These are people from the war," he muttered, just loud enough so Blake could hear him but Hermione could not.
"Precisely. And what the King wants, the King gets." Blake noticed Hermione's stalling at the book shelf. "You almost done, dear?"
Draco almost gagged by how sweetly Blake spoke to Hermione. How could you look at her and want to be sweet? What was so inviting about Hermione Mudblood Granger? He felt guilty for using the word but it seemed to slip back into his vocabulary by working at the Ministry for so long. He smirked as Blake turned back to Draco with a dejected look on his face when Hermione ignored him. "What do you need me for, then?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.
"I need you to oversee the exterminations, basically to make sure that everything goes smoothly and that there's no mess or witnesses left."
"Would I have my own department?" Draco asked.
"Yes, with your own employees and office, as well." Blake smirked as he saw Draco slowly get reeled in to his offer.
"Excellent. It sounds interesting, and fairly easy," Draco noted.
Hermione snorted. "Of course, typical Draco Malfoy. Always taking the easy way," she muttered to herself, but she knew that the two men could hear her.
"Draco, will you excuse us for a moment?" Blake asked sternly. Draco silently rose from his chair, glaring daggers at Hermione, and left the study to wait outside. Once the door shut Blake strode over to Hermione and grabbed her arm and forcibly turned her around to look at him. She stared at him with wide eyes as he leaned down to hiss in her ear. "Don't you ever, ever insult a colleague of mine like that, ever again. I don't care what kind of history you have with them. From now on you do not speak unless spoken to." He let go of her arm and pushed her. They stared at each other with so much intensity Hermione almost crumbled under the tension. "Go to the room and stay there until dinner," he directed her. She was too afraid to be defiant.
Hermione stared at him for a moment longer with rage in her eyes. She was almost seeing red. How dare he embarrass her like that? She hated how helpless she felt in that moment. She stumbled out of the office and didn't dare to look at Draco Malfoy in the eye. She disapparated quickly to the bedroom, and fell to her bed with sobs raking through her body as she realized how much she was letting them control her. She was not weak, she reminded herself. You are strong and you will get through this.