Their OWL results came to less fanfare than most would expect given Hermione's obsession with her marks.
Straight Outstandings for her and Draco both, though she had taken more exams than he had by far. Still, one would think Narcissa was a peacock for how pridefully puffed up she became at their OWLs.
"Oh, perhaps we should go to Paris for a fortnight to celebrate. I'll have to talk to Lucius about it." She tapped beside her lips thoughtfully. "I should buy you both something spectacular as a reward. New wardrobes?" She shook her head. "No, you'll be getting those before you enter the adult world. Hermione, dear, is there anything you'd like?"
Freedom, she thought. "I don't know. Books, perhaps? There's a wonderful new edition of Pioneers in Eastern European Potions coming out next week."
Narcissa giggled. "You silly girl, of course you can have that. But that's not a reward. Oh, I'll have to write to some of the important families and update them on this news. You'll have offers for work before you've graduated, mark my words."
She smiled wanly at the woman's sweet words, though they rang hollow in her heart.
Hermione hadn't heard from Tom yet, but she reminded herself that he was a busy man, and he would see it. He'd promised her he would.
She'd told Draco the next morning that they needed another meeting with Harry and Ron, as well, though she was again having difficulty figuring out what to say.
How did one tell one's best friend that his father threatened to have her forcibly impregnated?
The man who'd created the storm in her head stalked into the dining room, looking as though he'd already been out for the day despite the early hour. "Draco, come. There's a meeting of the Wizengamot, and you're attending with me."
The blond teen frowned, but rose, straightening his button-down. "Should I change?"
"No time," his father replied. "Come, come. Quickly now." His quicksilver eyes flittered to her, and her heart became a hummingbird in her throat. This was it.
She stood as they left, then muttered in excuse, "I need to— do something," before flying from the room.
Parchment and quill darted over her journal to reiterate her plea to Tom, then she wrote to Ron and Harry that the vote was today, hurrying to the owlery to send out the messy letters. So hastily written they were, she hadn't even included pleasantries, nor a true sign-off.
She trembled as she watched the owls disappearing into the chipper summer morning.
The remainder of the morning and long into the afternoon, Hermione stayed locked up in her bedroom.
It was the one place she was sure Lucius Malfoy wouldn't find her, as he'd never set foot in her quarters. Over the years, it had changed a bit. Her bedding and curtains were all gold-tooled scarlet now, a gift from Draco after their first year. She similarly assisted him in changing his room to a black-and-gold color scheme.
The walls were still cream, and her bed was ever-the-same despite its dressings, but the toilet that had once been merely adjacent was now officially attached. They'd added the door straight between the two around her fourth year, when Narcissa deemed it appropriate that a young lady have her own. She suspected her closet had been enlarged as well, because it hadn't felt so big when she was younger.
On her vanity were pictures of her and her boys— and one or two where Ginny made an appearance, too. There was a photo of her and Narcissa in Paris, and one of Hermione with the whole Malfoy family.
It was her least favorite, but it contained two of the people she loved, so she couldn't bear to throw it out or put it away.
She and Draco were around eight or nine, and he was so happy between his father and his mother. He practically beamed. Hermione, off to the side near Narcissa, was wide-eyed and smiling shyly, her golden coloring and wild curls clearly marking her as an outsider.
If Lucius Malfoy had his way, this would be the same for any children she might have, and theirs after, and so on. They would grow up alongside the Malfoy heirs, a shadow to the pale princes and princesses of the pale lineage.
Would they look so small and out of place, too?
She sighed and laid back on her bed to stare at the velvety red canopy.
It was a knock on the door that disturbed her. She rolled out and approached to open it—
For Draco to push through, shutting it firmly after himself, and pressing his shoulders flat back against it.
His pale blue eyes were wild, cheeks pink, and he was nearly breathless. "Potter's writing mother right now. You need to agree to marry him. Convince her you love him, and you'd like nothing better."
"What?"
It was so ridiculously out of nowhere that she laughed.
"I'm serious, Hermione." He looked it. His pale, shaking hands settled on her shoulder. "The bill passed. They're pushing it through for enforcement as quickly as possible. We need to jump on this before it's too late—"
"I'm not even seventeen yet," she protested.
"If we wait that long, it might be too late."
She let the words settle, then shook her head. "Draco, laws like this take months, if not years. Moreover, you know your mother will push for me while she can."
"Hermione." He drew her closer until their noses nearly touched. "Aunt Bella was there, and she was thrilled when they announced the vote. She practically ran toward father to start harping on plans. For you . And father— he— I don't know what to think."
Hermione took in his panic and tried to think of what might comfort him. "I'm returning to Hogwarts on September first. We will be at Hogwarts soon."
"I don't know that we will." His eyes brightened and shimmered. "Aunt Bellatrix, she suggested that— that father keep you here and start on his project early, whatever that means."
"Oh."
She stepped back until she reached her bed, sinking onto the plush surface.
"Do you know something, Hermione? Did father tell you about the project?" She frowned. "Is that what we were going to meet about, us and Potter and Weasley."
"I…" If she didn't stay carefully, cautiously empty, she'd flood with terror. "I think so."
Her friend sat beside her and took one of her hands in both of his. "What is it? What is he planning?"
"I don't think— he wouldn't, not while I'm so young," she insisted.
"Tell me."
"He said something about— about me having a—" she laughed, and her eyes rolled up to the canopy again. "About developing a bloodline adjacent to the Malfoy line."
She paused and huffed another broken laugh.
"Any children I have will be bound to the Malfoy family."
His eyes narrowed. "Bound how?"
"Servants, like house elves," she muttered.
"I will never allow that." Draco was as fierce as his namesake when he said the words, but she shook her head.
"He said he'd find a way, that you'd want to keep me close, or he'd wait until you had an heir of the 'correct mindset' before retiring as head of the family," she said.
His face was as hard as marble. "No. That's not happening." He stood and pulled Hermione to her feet. "Come on. Let's go to Potter's, and we will figure this out before he can even think to try."
Her friend tugged her along toward the drawing room and the open Floor, their fingers twined as they'd been since childhood. She sniffled and tried to keep back tears, tried to take solace in how firmly Draco believed they could counter this, but Tom hadn't written her yet, and Lucius Malfoy was probably around the corner and—
He was around the corner, and through the door of the drawing room. His wand waved in front of the fireplace and the flames roared. When the pair of teens' feet stuttered to a halt, the icy man turned to greet them.
"Well, whatever are you doing here, Draco? Hermione?" When neither spoke, he added, "You fled so suddenly after the vote. One moment you were there, and Bella was chattering away, and the next— poof ."
"I forgot something," the boy said, raising to his full height and squeezing her hand to provide comfort.
"And what is it you forgot?"
"We're supposed to be visiting Potter for dinner tonight," Draco responded evenly. "He wanted to talk about— about classes. To ask for help, since he wants to do well on his NEWTs."
Lucius stepped toward them, curiosity written across his features. "Is that right?"
Hermione nodded when his vision swept to her, and Draco said, "Yes. We got the owl this morning."
"I see." He took another step forward, almost within arms' reach of the two. "Hermione, my dear, have you been crying?"
She frowned as though she hadn't the faintest and touched her face with a free hand. "I just woke from a nap. My beauty charms must've worn off."
"Go back to your room. You're unfit company at the moment. Draco," he continued, turning from the girl to his son. "If you're truly expected at the Potter home, feel free to leave via automobile. I'm afraid the Floo network is closed for maintenance."
Closed for maintenance, what utter tripe, she thought, neither herself not the boy twitching from their spots.
Draco ground his jaw, knowing there was no way he'd be able to get Hermione to the Potter's using the vehicle the Malfoy's owned. His next option would be his mother, but he'd have to get to her before his father cottoned on. "Very well, father. Come, Hermione. I'll walk you back to your quarters."
They turned to go.
"I'll take over that duty for you, my boy. You needn't worry about your companion. After all, I plan to stay home for the remainder of the evening."
Their hands tightened around one another's. "That's quite alright, Lord Lucius. I can find my way—"
"I insist."
"Father," Draco began, but Lucius cut him off.
"Draco, be on your way. Now ."
She and her friend exchanged a long look wherein she silently pleaded for him to go, to meet with the others and begin planning. He stayed stubbornly haughty for the first few beats, and then lowered his head and sighed, acquiescing.
"I'll be home soon, Hermione."
She nodded and gave him a wan smile as she slipped her hand from his own. Lucius Malfoy swooped in to take his son's place, and the boy watched as the man swept her out of his sight.
"Did you think that would work?" Lucius mocked her once they were out of his son's earshot.
Her shoulders lowered. "Draco insisted we try. I couldn't say no to him."
He halted them, rounding on her in the secluded hall. "You would defy me, though."
"I would do what I must to live my own life."
Knife-silver eyes rolled upward in conjunction with his sneer. "I should have beaten the fire out of you before you were sorted. Gryffindor has done nothing but encourage the worst in you."
"You never would've succeeded." Hermione lifted her head and gazed at him in the fashion Narcissa managed when she was especially cross with her husband.
The man laughed, then his wand was out, and he tapped a spot on the wall behind her head.
Stone rearranged itself in grinding whirs. He spun her around and pushed her through the cavernous, shadowy hall that had appeared. They turned at a single fork that appeared, and then there was a large door.
Hermione did not want to open that door. She worried she might never come out if she did.
Lucius rodded at her back. When she didn't move, he sighed, reached around her, and twisted the knob.
The room was large and extravagant. It reminded her of Lady Narcissa's quarters, but there seemed more to it. There was a large bay window to one side (in a place that she knew no such window should exist) in front of which was a round table with two Chiavari chairs. A corner on one side of the lovely white marble hearth was made into a reading nook with towering, narrow bookshelves full to bursting, and a comfortable wingback with its own side table. The door where they entered was on the other side of the hearth, on the perpendicular wall to it. In front of the fireplace was a seating area with settee and cushioned seat, as well as a table adjacent to them.
The bed took up the majority of the back wall, vanity station between the reading nook and that portion of the room on its wall, a door to its right. There was another door almost hidden by the vast bed and its velvety plum curtains hanging from the posts. A dresser, side tables. Everything was in rich materials and colors and textures. There was velvet and silk, gold and burgundy, sangria, deep cherry wood, black marble floor, bronze candelabra.
The furniture all had intricate scrollwork, and the dark, elegant crown molding matched nowhere else in the manor.
The walls appeared to be silken wine red, plum, gold, and bronze wallpaper in a lush pattern that was vaguely floral abstract. Above the mantel was a painting of a slumbering dragon, all white to match the hearth itself, though the lighting of the piece created deep purple shadows and lustrous orange highlights.
"Your meals will appear at the table thrice a day and disappear within half an hour. Your toilet and bath are through the door there, and your dressing room through that one." He watched her gaze around the strange room for a moment, waiting for it to sink in.
"What is this place?"
His lips ticked in imitation of a smile. "These quarters are where Malfoy men have historically kept their mistresses when the women would visit the manor. There are two ways to enter this room, and both require the wand I now hold, and the information on what to do with it."
She spun to face him. "What? Why would you—"
"So that none will find you, daft girl. I will not sit idly for my family to conspire against me. Once they have learned better, you will return to your usual quarter." He eyed her speculatively. "Until then, you will find yourself trapped here. You may scream if you like, but no one will heed you."
Before he could leave, she said, a lance of spirit striking through her, "And if I decide to end my own captivity?"
He chuckled. "Do what you feel you must, Miss Granger, but you will remain here and in this condition until such time as I deem otherwise."
Then she was left alone in that horrible, beautiful cage.
Notes:
This chapter is a huge turning point, and the start of a major arc, a descent. Nothing is particularly graphic compared to, say, Azael's Chains (if you're familiar with my writing), but it is still rape and/or abuse.
This story already has 20k+ words written in advance, so the trajectory is set.
If you'd like to see what else I'm planning this year, check out my tumblr post on the subject, freya-fallen