Procyon Mask - Chapter 12

She can't stop running her most recent conversation with Barty through her mind, trying to figure out how much could be truth and what were lies. Pretty lies at that.

He really knew how to placate someone, make them question every little thing he said… even the way he said them. There were times when he spoke normally, no trace of deceit in the emotions laced with his words. And then there were other times where he said vile and cruel things with a smile or a flat tone. It was frankly impossible for her to read him. Which was why she was struggling so much now.

Logically he had a point when mentioning the Ministry's possible reasoning for creating the law. There was a rise of squibs in pure-blood families and historically even in muggle culture incestual marriages could lead to undeveloped minds and physical abnormalities. But so could an overuse of drugs or alcohol while a mother carried a baby in her womb. Though, it was quite ridiculous to assume all the pure-bloods were just that addicted to their vices. It made much more sense that incestual relationships would be the problem.

Then there was that one little comment… concerning the pure-blood houses here, as in wizarding Britain and its surrounding territories. It implied things were done differently where his mother had come from. In turn implying that… perhaps Barty wasn't a fanatic in that regard. He did imply that he didn't care too heavily about their child being a half-blood. He seemed more concerned with the magical ability of the child.

Which was a bit of a horrible thing to say as a potential father… That right out of the gate you just assume your child will be magically gifted. It was a lot of pressure to put onto a child. On the other hand it was a known fact that magical compatibility with one's spouse did increase the magical ability of the child they had. Not always to extremes, as any family could have a magical genius just born into it, but still. There were plenty more studies needed to be done on the matter, but that also insinuated that Barty was of the mind that their magic was compatible.

And she didn't like what such a thought insinuated.

Did he really not care about her being a mudblood?

Wouldn't Voldemort be enraged by the idea of one of his followers going against a core principle of the beliefs he set down? Or would he also favor magical ability over blood purity in the end? It's not like the man was actually a pure-blood after all… Then again, he was the heir to Slytherin. So maybe that just canceled out the little hypocrisy of the Death Eaters?

She couldn't say for sure, but… it seemed likely to be the case.

Still, it was hard for Hermione to wrap her head around everything. And there was the possibility that Barty was just lying to her, trying to make her more likely to sleep with him. As if him not being a blood-purist would just magically make her jump him. He had another thing coming if he thought she was so simple minded. He had tortured Neville's parents after all, nearly got Harry killed. Even if he didn't commit one crime, he had a million others to answer for. The case with the Longbottoms was just the most prominent. Who knew what else he had done in service to Lord Voldemort?

In any case she would never sleep with him. A horrible vile man who tortured people for fun? No way. Even if he was one of the most intelligent wizards she had ever met. There was just no way…

She really needs to stop thinking about this. The Order was probably having their meeting regarding the law if they hadn't started already. Perhaps they could come up with a way to get rid of the law. At least then she wouldn't be punished for not sleeping with a criminal.

Would the Ministry actually throw her in Azkaban for the offense? Or would another Death Eater come by and imperio her with Barty being so adamant about not using the spell for that purpose? There would no doubt be a fine, but Hermione wasn't made of money. Her parents were dentists, so while they weren't poor… She didn't want to have to go to them for the trouble. And if she couldn't pay the fine… The threat of Azkaban loomed over her again.

All just for breaking a damn marriage law. If Barty would just divorce her it wouldn't be an issue, but with him unwilling… It begged the question: if he broke the law would he be promptly sent back to Azkaban? He had mentioned that first day that he had agreed to marry her promptly the date the law went into effect to cease any worries from the Ministry.

But that couldn't possibly be true, because then…

Hermione shakes her head, hard.

"No." It has to all be a ruse.

But then, why her? Surely there was someone else within the Order he could've grabbed and manipulated in such a fashion. Someone that wasn't stuck at school, who could actually participate in all the meetings, was sent out on missions that Barty could sabotage through the binding, and met the age requirement. Someone like Nymphadora.

Not that she would ever wish such cruelty on the woman.

But surely it made more sense? Nympahdora was a half-blood, so there would be less dilution of the pure-blood running through Barty's veins for the duration of his little mission to help Voldemort and his army.

But if he was more concerned with magical ability… It made sense to go for her. A promising young witch with plenty of magic and a great mind to boot. It's not like anyone would ever suspect Hermione of being a spy after all.

She really was just a puppet, but she might be graduating to a broodmare soon.

The back of her throat itches, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. She has the ever-growing urge to vomit at just the idea of being used to bring more powerful witches and wizards to Voldemort's cause. They would be young and impressionable. All Barty had to do was set them within pure-blood families, never letting them quite know their mother was a mudblood. Or maybe he would tell them, make them scorn and hate her for existing.

Her own fucking children… turned into blood hungry beasts.

Hermione's stomach turns and she grits her teeth, fighting back the bile in her throat. Not again. She'd had enough.

Where was Barty anyway?

She hadn't seen him at all this morning and while she was thankful she didn't need to stay the night… her needing to leave at midnight with how long she put coming here off this time didn't sit well with her. She might as well be sleeping over. Except she really didn't want to sleep in his bed again.

There was the small comfort that with him leaving early every morning so far she didn't have to feel his arm slung over her body. She's not even sure if he has been doing that while asleep, as she makes the effort to be unconscious before he gets in. And it's not like he needed to continue to intimidate her with such a low tactic. She knew her chances of escape were slim, if not inconceivable.

She didn't need the reminder.

Barty hadn't left any notes for her, hadn't mentioned wanting to continue her lessons. So Hermione had elected to stay in their room, so far: busying herself with homework, thinking over his words.

He hadn't bothered her so far. Probably just busy with Death Eater business. Thankfully she hadn't had anything too important to tell him about the Order. It was a small mercy that Remus hadn't given her any names of the potential recruits. But once they were officially part of the Order… that was a different story.

The fact that Barty could make her wish the Order wouldn't get new members was a scary thought. Because she would just tell him the names, and then the info would go down the little pipeline he created all the way to Voldemort, and those new members' lives would be snuffed out. Before they could contribute anything worthwhile.

God, she fucking hates him.

And the Ministry. To just let the Death Eaters take over… and even if they hadn't; obviously Barty had gotten help from one of them. Perhaps the Ministry official that signed off on his release was imperiod. No one else seemed to have been matched with a Death Eater like her, and there had to be others in Azkaban that fell within the age range and weren't married. It was hard to believe the Ministry would have such a short-coming though, when creating their little law. If they really didn't think to exclude Azkaban prisoners then they just opened a potential loophole for the other Death Eaters to use to get people out.

"Oh, they deserve a second chance at life. Don't you think so?" Imperio.

"What do you mean 'no?'" Crucio.

"Well, if that's what you think we'll just have to replace you." Avada Kedavra.

It's not like it hadn't happened before. Ministry officials went missing only to be found dead months later. Everyone else just assuming they were working in the field or went on vacation. The Ministry didn't actually care about its people, much less the citizens beneath it. That's how they were able to pass such a ridiculous law in the first place.

And Barty was helping Lucius… he must have been the one to free him, then. Helping Draco was just a favor, though she wasn't sure why it was needed. Lucius was part of the inner circle, wasn't he? Not as respected as Barty with him being the one to give Voldemort a new body, but still. Has Lucius fallen out of favor?

It was annoying she couldn't go to the Order with any of this information. They might be able to use it, but she was a one-way spy. Barty had made sure she couldn't get help from her friends or help them in any meaningful capacity.

She really should just stop interacting with them entirely.

But that would be suspicious, cause alarm, alert them to something being off about her match. Her binding would activate and then that damn fire would encompass her wrist, break the bone… and it would be lights out, for a time.

She couldn't afford to just sit there and not have her mind active. She needs to do something. Unfortunately the only thing she can think of is accidentally getting hit with a stray Death Eater spell and seeing if Barty's vow activated. And who knew when such an opportunity would present itself to her?

She was going insane.

Seriously considering throwing herself into harm's way even if it wouldn't get her out of the marriage, just using the mere possibility that she could weaponize Barty's vow against his own people… She was being stupid. But what other choice did she have?

There's a knock at the door and she looks up quickly as it swings open, Barty standing in the frame, eyes scanning the room once before straying back to her. That was the other thing: he fucking knew. He knew she wouldn't just quit. She was incapable of just rolling over and having his fun, but maybe that's why he picked her. Because he liked the challenge.

"Are you going to waste away in here all day?"

"Good morning to you too, Barty." She keeps her words short, trying to disguise the edge in her voice as he had taught her. From the flicker of his gaze she wasn't doing well enough. "I was just getting my homework done. Did you need something?"

"It's well past noon. Go take a shower and get dressed. You can wear your school robes for now. I assume you'll be going back to Hogwarts tonight."

"Of course, husband."

"What did I tell you yesterday? Lose the attitude. I don't have the patience for you."

Hermione frowns. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with." So just like the dungeons he had mentioned the other day… "You can wait to leave in the parlor. I still have business I need to conduct for the day. Do me a favor and stay out of the way."

Her heart clenches in her chest. Would such a flimsy phrase actually activate her binding?

"Yes, my love." All emotion is drained from her voice, and though Barty's eyes narrow he turns from the door and he leaves her alone once again.

In his absence Hermione is quick to get undressed, shower, and then put on her school robes. She gathers her school supplies from around the room, stuffing them back into her bag before making her way to the parlor.

Once through the door a soft melody plays from the corner, the vinyl spinning slowly on the tabletop. This time a voice is paired with the whimsical music, not much louder than a whisper. Something about the tune makes a shiver run down her spine. The woman's voice is haunting, even if she can only pick up a few words here and there, she can't make sense of what the song is about.

Despite the music playing the parlor is empty and Hermione sets down her school bag, glancing around the room she had been married in.

The metal gates around the fireplace are open, but it's still too soon for her to leave. Next weekend she'll have to come sooner, like she did the first time. She really doesn't like waiting for the time to pass just so she can finally get away from Barty. Hopefully before he decides his Death Eater business is done and he needs some form of entertainment.

Hermione glances over to the corner with the turntable, walking past the chairs and couches scattered in the room for some abnormally large gathering, she beelines for the haunting melody, stopping short.

With no other sound in the room it's oddly loud, echoing around her, crawling under her skin and making her blood turn cold.

"What the hell is this now?"

Did Barty enchant the damn music to make her limbs go heavy? To make her heart feel like it had been dunked in the arctic?

…weeping…fall…shadows…

Even this close she can barely hear the words. It seems to be reminiscing a fairy tale, something dark and lost, where no hope remains… Oddly enough, it reminds her of her current situation.

Her fingers twitch, moving to the medallion in her breast pocket.

…evermore…bound…underground…

The tips of her fingers brush against the cool bronze, moving towards the center, to press against the thin inlaid crystals. They're warm to the touch and her fingers wrap around the medallion, pulling it from the pocket.

Hermione blinks, staring down at the item in her hand.

The gems are glowing softly, pulsing in tune with the music. Blue, gold, red… Something faint is echoing in her mind, calling, and she presses her right forefinger to the crystal, drawing it down softly. The medallion hums, growing warmer and-

Hermione drops it, taking a step back.

The noise of the medallion clattering to the ground is enough to shake her from her trance, and yet Hermione continues to stare down at the medallion.

What the bloody hell was that?

She thought the damn thing was just a twisted piece of art, a portkey. Not… whatever that had been. She could have sworn she heard a voice, unfamiliar words calling to her, drawing her to… What? Some thing? Some place?

"Barty…" Hermione turns, glancing to the door, wondering if he had planned this as well. Just what the hell was she carrying around with her?

McGonagall had asked to see the portkey when Hermione told her about it, but she hadn't said anything upon inspecting it. Though… she had acted odd upon looking at it. McGonagall had been quick to set it back down and she couldn't discern what the woman was thinking at the time. But thinking back… she looked a little shaken.

But if the medallion was something dangerous McGonagall would have told her. She would have warned her. So what the heck had she noticed that Hermione hadn't before? And why the hell was the music affecting it?

Hermione reaches over and turns the cueing lever to lower the tonearm from the vinyl. It spins silently now and after a little searching she stops the turntable completely.

There. That was better.

She turns and picks up the medallion, but it's no longer glowing. It feels just as cold and heavy as normal. Hermione slips it back into her breast pocket with a sigh.

If it weren't for the incident occurring in the Manor she could ask her Professor about it - or anyone else for that matter - but the binding makes it impossible for her to talk about anything that happens here. Unless she gets permission from Barty, and she doubts he would grant it to her.

In the silence her footfalls seem louder than normal as she walks back to her bag, pulling out her school work to glance over it in the time it takes to finally reach the forty eight hour limit. And she eagerly leaves behind the mansion and Barty, thankful that he hadn't bothered her for the rest of her stay.

For the song in the parlor I imagine something along the lines of the Elf Song Tavern from Bauldur's Gate Dark Alliance.