A/N: Ahhh, Amortentia. Heaven or Hell? Truce or subterfuge?
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-Elvee
Snatch
Chapter Four
"I'm also a fan of ridiculously patterned socks."
-Daniel Radcliffe
Hermione set her quill on the table and sat back to double check her work. She'd taken the names that Draco provided and tried to put them in an organizational chart. It was obvious there were big holes in his information, but it was enough to get started.
Crossing to the dresser she opened a drawer and pulled out a single wool sock. It was lime green with little Christmas trees all over it. Dobby's taste was certainly unique. She couldn't help but smirk. "Okay Malfoy, you've earned a sock."
"A sock? Granger, I'm hungry."Malfoy whined.
He should have been thankful. According to the plan, she shouldn't have offered the damn sock at all considering she had to threaten him. She stopped on her way back to the bed. "If you don't want it, fine." She turned on her heel and put it back in the dresser.
She shoved the last of the wood into the furnace, using her wand to clean up the bark and dust.
"Are you going to feed me or what?" Malfoy asked.
"Food is a privilege. Would you like the opportunity to earn some food?" She picked up the curtain and looked out the window. The snow was still swirling outside. A good six inches had piled up on the shoveled walk. The wood shed was about thirty paces away from the door in the deep snow. Four trips ought to give them enough wood for the night.
"What do you mean 'earn'?" Suspicion crawled across his face.
"You're going to bring in firewood." Hermione said, pulling on her jacket and gloves.
"Fine. Whatever."
Hermione conjured a pair of shackles and linked his ankles together with the iron cuffs before loosening the knots and letting his legs free. She conjured an identical pair of shackles and fixed the cuff over his left hand. Just as she was freeing it, Malfoy yanked her down onto the bed, trying to wrestle her wand away.
"Stupefy!" She yelled, and laid panting over Malfoy's limp form. Her left wrist was bruised. She dragged her fingers over her temple where he'd hit her with the loose iron cuff in the short struggle. It came back bloody. Cursing, she heaved herself off him, and vanished his boxers out of spite before getting a hold of herself and looking him over.
A line of fine blonde hairs led down to his sleeping manhood. Hermione hadn't seen a man naked in the flesh yet, and the sudden implications of what she'd done shocked her. She blushed right down to the roots of her bushy hair. It wasn't the fact that she'd seen a man's anatomy that made her blush, books were full of anatomical drawings. It was the fact that through her own anger, she'd just made Malfoy – of all men- her first. Angry as she was, she couldn't help her eyes roving. Sure, he had tight, neat hips and broad shoulders, and pectoral muscles that had been refined from playing Quidditch. Okay, fine! He was beautiful.
That only served to make her even more angry.
"Bloody ferret!" She fastened the iron cuff on his limp right hand, then cut his other arm loose. She fastened the chains in between his feet and hands to the iron hooks before tending to her head.
He was much stronger than she'd figured. That brief struggle had been scary. If she was honest with herself, she knew he'd try to test her. It was only a matter of time. It was better it happened sooner rather than later. As little as she relished having a naked Malfoy in the room with her, she had to punish him for his little test. If he tried again, she'd vanish the bed and he could sleep on the bare floor.
As she dug through her bag for the dittany, she caught a view of one of the ten vials of Amortentia. She had been planning on keeping it as a last resort. But maybe, just maybe, she'd have to do some research on other uses. Potions did different things in different doses. Maybe a drop or two would relax him a bit around her, or maybe, he'd be madly in love with her for ten minutes. The first result could be very useful, the second would be a pain in the neck. She resolved to research whatever she could find in her limited stash of books.
She still had some very important things to do. She fished a small box out of her beaded bag and called for Dobby. When the elf appeared with a crack, she said, "Dobby, I have a secret mission for you. Take this to Diagon Alley and mail it to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Use a disguise and don't let anyone see you."
Dobby bowed low and taking the box, disappeared with another crack.
From the iron bed, Malfoy groaned. Hermione scowled, and tugged her hat and boots on. She threw the door wide open and trudged across the thick snow to the woodshed. She levitated a pile of firewood and brought it inside, pausing to stomp the snow off her boots.
The wind swirled inside the cabin and Malfoy yelled, "Granger! Close the door! Whats the matter with you? Were you born in a barn?"
Hermione ignored him and made a few extra trips for good measure. The stack of firewood now replenished, she put the kettle on and pulled a few potions books down off her shelf.
"Why am I naked?" He leered at her, "What's the matter Granger? Can't get a willing wizard, so you have to resort to kidnapping?"
"You broke the rules." She said evenly, careful to avoid looking at him. Hermione refused to take the bait, instead fishing in the cupboard for the tea and biscuits.
He struggled to look around on the bed, "Where's my sock? I earned a sock. Where is it?"
"You said you didn't want it. You'll have another chance to earn clothes later." She spooned the tea in the pot and waited for the kettle.
"Where'd the blood come from?" Malfoy had tucked his chin to his chest and was staring at a large smear of red across his white chest.
"You hit me in the head with your manacle before I stunned you." The kettle whistled and she poured her tea, taking it over to the table and opening the top book on her stack, intent on finding more information on low doses of love potions.
At first he smirked, probably at the thought of hurting her. Then his face fell. "That's yours? Bloody hell, Granger! Get it off me! You're contaminating me!" Malfoy yelled, squirming and straining against the chains that bound him.
Hermione turned a page, saying quietly, "Baths are a privilege." She picked up a chocolate biscuit and nibbled on it.
His eyes locked on the biscuit, watching it touch her lips, watching every crumb bounce neatly on her plate. "Com'on, just one biscuit, Granger! I'm starving!" He howled.
She only looked up from her reading long enough to point her wand at him and cast another silencio charm. "You won't actually starve for two more days. Maybe less because you're shivering." She shrugged and went back to her reading. Two hours, four biscuits and three potions books later and she still hadn't found a single thing.
What she really needed was a potion of like, or better yet, trust. But as far as she knew, no such thing existed. She would never stoop to using the Imperius curse. After all, she wasn't one of them. There was always a logical solution to any problem given enough time and thought. Try as she might, she couldn't see a way around it. Inwardly, she groaned. She'd have to experiment.
Malfoy had worked himself into a sulk. He pouted listlessly on the bed, every once in a while jangling his chains as he shifted position.
She reshelved the books with a sigh, pulling her cold weather gear back on. "Are you comfortable?"
"Oh, yeah, just ducky, Granger." He drawled.
"I have to go out." She cast a petrificus totalis on him and walked out into the snow. She had to reinforce Dobby's wards and put up a few of her own. The snow was deep and hard to move through. It was going to take much longer than she thought. After only a third of the island was done, she went back inside to check on Malfoy.
Apparently, twenty minutes was too long to leave him alone. When she returned to the house, the feathers from his flat pillow were all over his corner of the room. It was her own fault for leaving him so long. She'd gotten side tracked in trying to complete her anti-apparition wards. He was Malfoy, ferret extraordinaire, and he wasn't going to make this any easier than he had to. Without a word she vanished the pillow, re-petrified him and went back outside to finish the wards. This time she kept a closer eye on the time.
After three more trips, two to complete the wards and one to test them, she was frozen through. She trudged back in the cabin, stripped her cold weather clothes off and wrapped in a blanket by the fire. Thankfully, Dobby had set a bowl of steaming stew and fresh bread on the table. She wrapped herself in her grandmother's afghan and moved the chair closer to the stove.
She ate her stew with her back to him, longing for a soak in a hot bath. The plan was swimming along nicely. Lucius would get the package with her letter and the muggle cell phone she'd charmed in a few hours. If he followed instructions, he'd be calling in two days. Malfoy was a pain in her ass, but he was still subdued, even if he had lost almost every privilege she gave him. Thinking about his vanished boxers, she blushed again, glad he couldn't see it.
How could he be so perfect on the outside, and so very rotten on the inside? It was people like him that killed her parents. With that single thought, the scab that had formed over her grief for her parents cracked painfully. She fought it with everything she had. She didn't want to break down in front of Malfoy, in front of just another Death Eater. She argued with the tears that threatened to fall. Unfortunately for her, the tears weren't in the mood to argue, and she sniffled.
"Granger?" Malfoy said softly.
She ignored him as two more fat tears wound their way down her face. She was so tired, and now that she was stuck in this cabin with Malfoy, it suddenly hit her how utterly alone she was. A small, traitorous sob escaped.
"Merlin! Are you crying?" Chains jangled behind her. He must have been a really good actor. He sounded concerned.
She gave a huge sniff and wiped her face, continuing to ignore him.
Malfoy sighed. "Granger, look, no harm's been done. Just let me go and..."
"Silencio!" She stopped his wheedling mid-sentence. "Don't you get it? You're just as alone as I am. Think about it. You didn't kill Dumbledore. You failed. Voldemort knows you've been kidnapped. That's the only thing keeping your parents alive. If I don't keep you here, your whole family is dead."
Shock was pasted all over his face. She gave a bitter laugh, "You didn't think I knew? Of course I knew! You were about as subtle as a blast-ended skrewt! For your information, I didn't bring you here to kill you. You might be a stupid ferret, Malfoy, but that doesn't mean I think you deserve to die. I brought you here to save you, you ungrateful wretch."
She stomped over to his bed and poked him in the chest. "Do us both a favor when I lift this spell. Don't pretend to be nice. Don't pretend to care. You're not fooling me. I may have saved your family's life, but I did it for my own reasons. If you don't start getting with the program I will let you starve."
That night, Malfoy swallowed his sleeping potion without her having to resort to a charm. She gave him the choice of a sock or breakfast. He chose breakfast. She left a note on the table for Dobby.
Once she was quite sure he was asleep, she conjured a copper tub and filled it to the brim with steaming hot water. She might see Malfoy naked, but that didn't mean he got to see her. She allowed herself a few minutes to scrub and relax before vanishing the water and scrubbing the tub with a quick spell. She threw on her pajamas and fell into an exhausted sleep.
In the morning, she dressed quickly, checked Malfoy's bonds and looked over the piles of food on the table. She placed two drops of Amortentia in the empty tea cup. She made Malfoy a plate and sipped her own tea until he woke.
When at last the chains jangled, she poured his tea and brought it over to him. Carefully she propped it in his left hand. Checking to be sure he could reach his mouth with the cup, she turned back for a spoon.
Malfoy smacked his lips together, then said, "This tea tastes funny, Granger."
"Probably not your usual brand. Not all of us are made of money." She picked up the spoon, spooned diced apples, sugar and cinnamon over the porridge and went to sit on the side of his bed. She stirred his porridge and filled the spoon.
He made a face. "I can feed myself."he snapped.
She shrugged and put the bowl of porridge on his chest before returning to her own breakfast. She covertly watched him struggling to reach his own spoon with either of his manacled hands. He couldn't. She finished eating, waiting until his struggles ceased. She banished her dishes to the sink and collected his bowl.
He panicked, "Wait! Where are you going with that?" His entire body was tensed against the chains, straining to reach for the food.
"Breakfast is over. It's time to do the dishes." She said non-nonchalantly.
"But I didn't get to eat!" He protested.
"I offered." She shrugged, beginning to turn away.
"Granger!" Malfoy called to stop her from walking away. "Granger, I'm sorry. Will you help me?"
After deliberating for a moment she nodded curtly and sat on the side of his bed. She cast a heating charm over the now cold porridge and gave it a few stirs before holding a full spoon to his lips.
He groaned when the food hit his mouth, chewing with relish.
"You need to eat a little slower, we don't want you to get sick." She filled the spoon again and watched as he ate until the bowl was empty. "More porridge or toast?"
"Toast." At her raised eyebrow, he added grudgingly, "Please."
She handed him two pieces of buttered toast. When he finished that, she gave him another cup of strong tea. Just as she was thinking the potion should have begun working, Malfoy abruptly stopped eating and sniffed the air.
"You smell good, Granger." His gray eyes held an unfamiliar flicker of something she couldn't identify.
She blinked, then laughed, "I wish I could say the same. Bacon?" When he nodded she handed him two pieces and went to refill his tea.
"I'm sorry I hurt you yesterday." he said between mouthfuls, watching every move she made.
Hermione shrugged, taking careful mental notes on his change of attitude. "I expected it to happen sooner or later." She handed him another steaming cup of tea.
As he brought the cup to his lips, he winced in pain. The cup shattered on the floor, tea spattering everywhere. "He's summoning me." He said through gritted teeth.
"Merlin! You mean that thing," she motioned to his Dark Mark, "actually hurts when he calls you?"
"Did I burn you?" He looked her up and down, she was covered in spilled tea.
"I'm fine." She waved his concern away, before bringing the conversation back to a much more important subject, "You mean he can still reach you here?"
"He can reach me anywhere, Hermione." He was pulling his left arm so tightly against the shackle, the entire bed shook.
"Murtlap essence!" She rummaged through her beaded bag, pulling out a bottle of clear green liquid. She conjured a flannel and soaked it with the liquid. She leaned over him and pressed the compress to his arm.
Little beads of sweat erupted across his forehead. His face was contorted in pain. She watched him intently. He huffed out a few breaths, then the shaking of the bed stopped. "Any better?" she asked.
"A little." He admitted. "Thanks." He was still wound tight as a spring, but at least now his pulling against the manacle wasn't hard enough to break his wrist.
She thought for a minute. "What about Magicaine? Have you ever tried that?"
He gave a short laugh, "Usually you just touch your wand to the Mark and go when He summons you. If we defy Him, we're dead."
"It wouldn't hurt to try." Her mind was whirring. She grabbed her beaded bag and pulled out a cauldron.
Malfoy gave another cry of distress. When she'd jumped off the bed, the medicated flannel had fallen from the Mark.
"Oh!" She ran back over and pressed the flannel back to his skin. He was visibly soothed. "How long does it usually last?"
"A few minutes. I'll be fine." He said through gritted teeth.
"What makes you think I'd just let you suffer?" She sniped.
"I deserve it. After everything I've done, I deserve a lot worse than that." He mumbled.
She searched his face for traces of a lie. Not finding any left her confused and with no other option than to blame the potion. Malfoy was naked, perfect and admitting he was a complete prat. It was the fulfillment of a long time fantasy. She was about to remind herself to stick with the plan, but the plan went out the window when she'd lied about saving him and tried to treat his Dark Mark. A naked, contrite Malfoy was most certainly getting under her skin. That was something that simply couldn't happen.
"Just shut up and hold still," she ground out.