Rabastan knew that he and Hermione had to get into the Lestrange vault at Gringotts. That was imperative. Especially when he remembered that Christmas party, over ten years ago, before Azkaban, when Bella preened and hinted at some great task that the Dark Lord had tasked her with, but she wouldn't share what it was. He failed to see how holding onto something for him was a sign of his esteem, and not mere acknowledgement that the Lestrange's vault was one of the first, and therefore heavily guarded. But, he supposed, some men just threw money at the Dark Lord and acted like they were his most loyal.
First, he mentioned wanting a pair of cufflinks that his father had frequently worn as an attempt to visit the family vault without suspicion. Rodolphus had grinned down at him, pleased with the new interest and devotion to his family. That was in mid-November. Within a week, Rodolphus gave him the cuff-links, all shining and golden. "I had the Goblins clean them for you," Dolph said with a smile.
Next, he brought up a visit to Gringotts, so that he might add Hermione to his will, in early December. Rodolphus looked uncomfortable, but knew it was necessary. Bellatrix, though, sneered and frowned, and hemmed and hawed at the thought, before she could think of a reasonable excuse for Hermione's exclusion from the family.
"Don't add her to the will until she's given you an heir. Or is the little bitch pregnant already?" she asked.
Rabastan looked from his brother to his sister-in-law with disdain, but little other emotion. "No, Hermione is not yet with child," he answered, practically able to feel Rodolphus's disappointment.
"Do you even still remember how to fuck a woman, Rab?" Bellatrix asked him with a mean smile. "I know that you might have forgotten during your time in Azkaban, but Rodolphus could give you some pointers."
Rabastan didn't even deign to give that a response.
Opportunity came eventually, and from an unlikely source, just two weeks before Christmas. It was the Dark Lord, actually, who gave him a chance to get into the Lestrange family vault. "Rabastan, you and your wife will be giving an interview to the Daily Prophet," he'd told them once at one of the Malfoy's dinners, smirking at the word wife.
Rabastan always hated that the Dark Lord seemed to make digs at him for having a Mudblood — no Muggleborn — wife, when he'd only married her on the Dark Lord's orders. He had done the Dark Lord a favor and all he got as thanks was ribbing and snickers from the other Death Eaters.
"Oh? May I ask what purpose the interview is for?"
"Yes, you may, Rabastan," the Dark Lord answered, becoming serious. "Certain members of the Wizengamot and elsewhere in the MLE have questions about Act 927.861 and how only one witch has been affected so far. I hope this will shut up certain factions and give the general public knowledge that Granger is well cared for. Further— " the Dark Lord sneered at Lucius, "it's been brought to my attention that during Christmas time, the public would be bolstered by good news — fluff stories. It might make the general public more accepting of the new world order."
Rabastan was quiet for just a moment, before nodding his head. "An excellent idea my Lord. Of course, I will have to get her a ring, so that they see that I...accept the union," he said with a sneer. "If I am lucky, maybe a ring from my family vault will kill the Mudblood with a curse, and the article can be about a grieving widower instead."
The table around him laughed, but inside his stomach was roiling. He'd known Hermione only a few months and already the thought of her dying was unpalatable to him. Still, he'd gotten the approval that he needed and his mind was already whirring with plans of getting the Cup out of his vault.
The morning that they were supposed to leave for Gringotts, Narcissa had entered their room at an ungodly hour. She woke up Hermione, not caring that Rabastan laid mostly naked, still asleep, next to her. Instead, she just ushered her into the white bathroom, where an Elf was already running a bath.
Sighing, Hermione didn't even try to argue with Narcissa, knowing that it was futile. Instead, she stripped herself of her clothing and stepped into the steaming hot water of the bath, the warmth making her eyes want to drift shut, back to sleep. "Any reason that you are waking me up at this hour, Narcissa?" she asked, annoyed.
The blonde woman turned to look at her with a self-satisfied smile. "Why of course, Hermione," she said. Narcissa always addressed her with civility. "You are making your first public appearance as Rabastan's wife today, when you go to the bank. It is of the utmost importance that you look your absolute best."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What, you thought that I wouldn't shower today?" she snarked. Although she could recognize that she didn't have the sense of style that Narcissa did, she was clean.
"No, but I wanted to be sure that you got into the bath early enough that we could do your hair and makeup. Also, I've brought several outfits for you to try on, as I am not sure which will give you the look that I am trying for," Narcissa responded, watching the young woman as she dunked her head to free her hair of shampoo.
When she resurfaced, Hermione looked at Narcissa pensively. "And what look is that?" she wondered.
"I want you to look womanly, no longer a school girl," Narcissa said, beginning her description of Hermione's proposed style. "I want you to look like you are in charge and you belong there, without looking severe or like a librarian. Your reputation does that enough already."
Hermione held back a laugh. Narcissa was surprising in that she did have a bit of a sense of humor. It was weird because she and Lucius seemed to have no common ground — he absolutely didn't have a humorous bone in his body. She and Narcissa weren't friends, but they tolerated each other.
After toweling off, and being ensconced in a silk robe, Hermione was ushered to the vanity in her bathroom, and the house elf immediately got to work on drying and styling her hair, into an elegant updo, that made her hair look shiny and smooth. Then, Narcissa began to work on her glamour charms, adding the equivalent of eyeliner, smokey eyeshadow, and mascara, some blusher, and a nude lip.
Hermione reviewed herself in the mirror. She looked smart, she thought, and rather beautiful. Narcissa was quite handy with the charms, she could begrudgingly admit. The older witch then brought her a plain black bra and pair of knickers, which she was happy to step into.
"Narcissa, how did you and Malfoy...become betrothed?" Hermione asked, confused about how pureblood society worked.
"Well, when I was still at Hogwarts, Bellatrix got married to Rodolphus, and it was at that wedding that my father met Abraxas Malfoy. Within a week of the wedding, Lucius and I were engaged," Narcissa explained, no hint of warmth or emotion in her face.
"Did you like him?" Hermione asked, sitting on the edge of the bench.
"Not particularly. He was a few years older than me and he was a bit of a snob at Hogwarts, but he was the man my father told me to marry so I did," Narcissa said with a smile. "And he gave me Draco, so my life has been fulfilling."
"And now that...now that Draco is growing up, and you don't have to devote so much of your time to him, how do you get along with Lucius?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. She hoped Millie wasn't going to be forced into a similar loveless marriage, just because her father told her to marry the elder Goyle.
"Now, we...exist," Narcissa said, looking a bit defeated, before her vapid smile slipped back in place, and she handed Hermione the first of the dresses she'd brought. It was a green velvet number that Hermione thought looked quite nice, actually, but it seemed to be a little bit too formal. "Hmm, I think this will be better for the actual interview," Narcissa mused.
In the end, Narcissa chose a slate gray shift dress that was cinched in the middle by a silver belt and a pair of nude high heels. Hermione had to admit that the overall look definitely made her look strong, beautiful and not a hint of school girl remained. She stared at herself in the mirror, carefully putting on some diamond earrings — Narcissa's, of course — that completed the look.
Hermione's good mood was doused, though, when Narcissa, also looking at the mirror's reflection over Hermione's shoulder, whispered, "Pure perfection."
After Narcissa finally left the room, she joined Rabastan at their little table for breakfast. She felt conflicted to see his eyes light up when she sat down, as she didn't really think that this look was a good representation of the kind of woman that she actually was. Still, it was nice to be thought of as beautiful.
Looking over at his plate, Hermione could tell that Rabastan was distinctly nervous. He'd barely touched his food, but looking down at her own food, Hermione realized she wasn't that hungry either. She was worried about getting caught by Voldemort, but she didn't let her thoughts dwell on that for too long. What was the worst thing that could happen? She supposed that Rabastan knew precisely what the worst was.
In any case, being with Rabastan made her feel safe and confident. She didn't know why, but he'd been exceedingly kind to her this whole time, and she felt that if she kept by his side, she could get out of this safely. Then they could get on with their lives...together. Hermione hadn't given too much thought to what would happen once the war was over, seeing as their vows were binding. She decided that she would just handle that when they got there.
It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him per se — if anything, she couldn't stop thinking about slipping her fingers through his dark auburn hair and pull his face to hers so that they could have a bit of a snog — it was just that they had such different plans for the future. And, she was certain that he still was having trouble adjusting to the new way of thinking.
When their respective breakfasts were complete and the little Elf came and cleared away their plates, Rabastan cleared his throat, clearly wanting to talk about something serious. "I have something for you," he said, enjoying the moment of intense curiosity that flittered over Hermione's face. Then, pulling it from out of his pocket, he presented her with her wand.
Hermione smiled with glee and immediately snatched it up, delighting in the feel of the familiar vinewood in her hand again. "Thank you, Rabastan," she said quietly, before looking at him suspiciously. "Why are you giving me this?"
"Because, you can be trusted with it," he answered softly, trying to let a bit of his feelings bleed into his eyes.
"You don't think that I would use it against you?" Hermione said, looking at him curiously, and pointing the tip of it at his nose.
Rabastan didn't even flinch, instead, looked over the wand and into her eyes. "I don't think that you will, Hermione," he said gently. "I can help you make a difference in this war, and at this point we are in it together. I trust you."
Hermione felt herself relax, hearing him say that he trusted her. Why should he trust her? There was almost no reason, but Hermione found herself trusting him too. They were in this together. And he was also right, this was her way to help out, and she couldn't do it without him. She didn't have a hope to find Harry and Ron again, when basically everyone in the wizarding world were looking for them, and they hadn't been found yet.
"I trust you, too," she told him sincerely, wondering if anything more could grow from this.
"Well, shall we head to Gringotts, then, wife?" he asked, offering his arm to her.
Standing from the table, Hermione took his arm, and allowed him to lead her through Malfoy Manor, until they got to the drawing room that held the floo. Lucius was waiting for them there, sneering at Hermione, but he let them through anyway.
They made their way to the Leaky Cauldron and Hermione was surprised to see the little pub almost entirely empty, except for two shady looking individuals in the back booth. When they walked out into Diagon Alley, it was even more desolate.
"It's so empty," she whispered to her husband.
He didn't say anything, instead, navigating through the streets. Every now and again, they would come across a random witch or wizard, but they all cowered away from Rabastan Lestrange, feared Death Eater. He walked through the streets like he owned them, Hermione thought, with a snort.
Soon, they were walking up the steps to Gringotts and past the goblins, until they got to whoever the Lestranges' banker was. The Goblin looked Hermione over, not trusting her one bit, but one hard look from Rabastan had the Goblin ushering them down into where the vaults were stored.
Rabastan helped her gingerly into the trolley, before slipping in the cart to sit next to her. Hermione relished the warm feeling of his body pressed closely against hers with the chilly draft of the vaults. When they began moving on the tracks, Hermione felt herself quickly becoming queasy from the winding twists and turns; the deeper they got, the more disorienting it was. Rabastan just held her hand reassuringly.
When they got to the Thief's Downfall, Hermione found herself drenched with water, and noticed that the Goblin was looking at her with great intensity, before scowling at her when she didn't fall from her seat. Rabastan waved his wand over her, siphoning all the excess water from her, leaving her dry as she was before.
"Thanks," she whispered into his ear.
It didn't take much longer to get to the Lestrange vault, but it was certainly much deeper than she expected. The Goblin waited at the door, after Rabastan pulled out his key and opened the vault. It was with obvious reluctance that the nosy Goblin stood near the trolley, wanting to get a glimpse at what the odd pair was doing in the vault.
"Our official purpose of being here is to select an engagement ring for you for our interview tomorrow," Rabastan spoke low to her. "Why don't you pick one out from this jewelry box while I look for the Cup?" he asked her, indicating a large black box.
Hermione opened the lid and was surprised to see numerous rings, earrings, and necklaces nestled in the black velvet of the box. "Wow, there are so many in here," Hermione said with a small smile.
"It was my great grandmother Arista's," he said, quietly. Hermione was quite pleased and touched that he was willing to share a little piece of his family with him, of his own free will. She lovingly touched the soft fabric. "Be careful not to touch anything else. There are all kinds of curses and charms on the things in here, and I can't be sure what would happen if a...Muggleborn were to touch it."
Hermione nodded, and endeavored not to touch anything but the large black box. She shifted through the numerous rings and other assorted jewelry, while Rabastan began shuffling around the back of the vault. Most of the jewels on the rings were large emeralds and a few sapphires. "You Slytherins and your green," Hermione mused under her breath.
It didn't take long for her to find the ring that she wanted though. It was probably the smallest jewel in the whole box and it was a rare diamond among the other gemstones, but it shone brightly in the light, and it seemed fitting for her. The emerald cut solitaire was on a white gold band, and when she tried it on her finger, it fit perfectly.
She looked up, hearing Rabastan swearing as he seemed to have knocked over a stack of galleons, which spilled all over the floor. "Do you need help?" she asked, over at him.
"No, I've almost got it," Rabastan said, and she watched as he levitated a small golden cup down from the very back of the vault, and placed it into a small sack. She'd told him about her undetectable extension charm after he told her they were going to Gringotts and he'd replicated the charm faithfully. Now, the Goblin wouldn't be able to tell that they'd taken anything but the ring. "Did you find a ring?" he asked, walking back towards her.
"Yes," Hermione answered sweetly, holding out her hand so that he might inspect it. "It even fits perfectly."
Rabastan let his fingertips trail over the skin of her palm while he looked at her selected ring. "It suits you," he told her, looking at the small diamond. "I am sure that many pureblood wives would never pick something as simple as this, but it looks right on your hand." He wanted to kiss her lips then, seeing her preen at his words, but he settled for pressing his lips to her fingertips.
After, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and led her back out of the vault to where the Goblin was waiting for them. The Goblin did look at Hermione with intense scrutiny, but his eyes finally settled on her small ring and he seemed to be satisfied. They climbed back into the trolley and took the winding tracks back out to the main hall of the bank.
When Rabastan led Hermione back through the streets of Diagon Alley, he finally let himself relax a bit. "That was much more anticlimactic than I was expecting. I thought we might have to fight our way out, maybe on the back of one of those dragons," he quipped.
"A dragon, Rabastan?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated. "Honestly!"