Chapter 3: Please Come to Dinner

Draco willed himself from the doors to Hermione's chamber and quietly made his way down to the dining area, his leather shoes' clacks echoing against the walls of the hollow house.

Hermione was going to be stubborn, but he would have to continue to be the bad guy to get her to cooperate.

"Honestly though, how hard can it be to make her just listen?" Draco whispered under his breath. He took in a deep sigh, remembering that the girl -woman- he was dealing with wasn't just any woman. She was Hermione Granger. Would-be war heroine, brightest witch of their generation.

He was honestly naïve to believe that convincing her would be like eating cake. It'd be more like one trying to feed oneself poison.

"What an accurate analogy," he muttered, passing by a couple of mumbling portraits.

"Mudblood…. Dirty…" he could hear them mutter.

Draco was honestly lost on his opinion on mud-muggleborns. It had been instilled on him since birth and now Draco's own conscious was forming and some nagging part of it was screaming at him about how wrong it was. And Draco was listening to that nagging part. But what was to be expected of him? He had grown-up to believe anyone that wasn't a pureblood was automatically lesser than him, and muggleborns should practically be treated as house-elves are.

When Draco got to the dining area, he drew out the chair at the head of the detailed, mahogany table and gingerly took a seat, thinking—waiting.

The take-down of the Dark Lord will be a challenge, but Draco was his most trusted Death Eater, and Draco could use this to his advantage. But he and Hermione were not enough to stop him. He needed more recruits—and that is where Hermione comes in.

But Draco didn't want to think about it much. He didn't want to think about it at all.

"Sweet Merlin…" He prayed.

Tessa popped into Ms. Granger's room upon Draco's request. Draco didn't like it when Tessa had called him Master. He told Tessa that it made him feel like a slavery-runner, and he was trying to stray away from that. Draco had also told Tessa that he doesn't like to be called Malfoy, or Mr. Malfoy, but when Tessa inquired, he asked her to clean the kitchen.

Tessa observed the scraggily brunette bunched up in a ball in the corner of the king-sized bed royally draped in emerald silk. The girl could be a beauty, with little help, of course,

"Eh hem—" Tessa politely coughed.

Ms. Granger's sobs grew louder and more agonized. In the background, Tessa could hear the dusty grandfather clock begin its second of seven strokes.

"Ms. Granger?"

The girl wailed and wailed, and then, abruptly gathering herself, she sat upright and sank herself in a fit of violent sniffles. Ms. Granger's molten chocolate eyes grew wide at the sight of Tessa, as if she hadn't even noticed the house elf, which she probably didn't because of the wailing protruding from her own mouth.

"I-I'm sorry," Ms. Granger shakily apologized, stopping every now and then to sniffle.

Tessa looked into the sweet, youthful eyes of the girl. See, Tessa had a very powerful gift that nobody even knew. Tessa could look into a person's soul through their eyes. Tessa could see every memory and feeling that the person had ever known, thought, or been through. And the only thing Tessa could feel, at the moment, was fragility and sadness.

And passion.

"May Tessa ask why miss is so sad?" Tessa asked carefully.

Ms. Granger looked into the glowing orbs of Tessa, and took her in carefully.

"Isn't your Master going to be rather upset about this?" She asked.

"He doesn't like me to call him that, Miss."

"What, Master?" Ms. Granger asked, confused.

"Master, or Malfoy."

Hermione took this information carefully.

"Why is Miss so sad?" Tessa asked again, gracefully plopping her feet on the floor, and then plopping her rear on the giant bed right next to the girl.

Hermione sighed. "I, my," her voice started to break.

Frightened, Tessa hastily jumped up from the bed and made her way toward the door and apologized, saying, "Tessa doesn't mean to upset Mi—"

"Please come back, Tessa… I'm dreadfully sorry, I just-" She hung her head low. "I miss them so much."

Tessa slowly made her way from the door and gingerly sat next to Hermione again. "Who, Miss?

"My friends Tessa, they—they are locked up in a horrible prison! Innocent men and women, wizards and witches, each in line ready to get their soul sucked out and I am here, in a big mansion, working as a slave to a Malfoy!" She spit the word out.

"Draco isn't that bad—"

"Draco-bloody-Malfoy is the one who put my friends in Azkaban!" She nearly shouted, her eyes burning with and intensity that she had lacked.

The room was silent for a few moments. It hung in the air like a filthy stench.

"Are you coming to dinner then?" Tessa inquired.

"No."

"But—but miss must—"

"Why would I Tessa?" Hermione demanded. "Why in the world would I go to dinner with that filthy rat? After all he has done to me? To my friends? And how about all his 'great' contributions to the muggle and wizard world, hm?"

"Please—"

"No, I'm sorry."

Tessa inwardly sighed. Draco had warned her that this girl was a stubborn one. He also gave Tessa a few tricks on how to convince her.

"You know," Tessa began slyly. "I was asked to convince you to go to dinner. And I'm afraid that since it was a request, if I do not succeed, I will have no choice but to punish myself. Good too."

Hermione looked up, searching Tessa's eyes. "You're not serious!"

"I'd have no free will. Please miss, just bathe and I'll lay out some clothes on the bed. Really it won't be long." Tessa said, walking out the door. She stopped as she turned back to close the door, "If it helps, he asked very nicely to get me to convince you. He even said pretty please with a cherry on top."

Tessa looked into the girl's eyes once more, and found that she had won.


I so very sorry about the long wait! Thanks to everyone who hung in there! Love, Jade