XII
—
"I ran across the cabin you found me in at about the end of January," Hermione sighed, taking a sip of her second Sage Citrus. "It was deserted enough, and with a few added wards and enchantments, I thought it was safe."
Draco stared into his drink. "Well, The New Order didn't find you, so you were safe from them, at least."
There was silence for several moments, both of them lost in thought, then the girl stood and went to stare out the window. It had gotten dark, and the rain hadn't eased. She shook her head.
"We have to return to the Grand Manor tomorrow. I could somewhat manage the wedding planning from here, but your mother has direct Floo lines to most of the services I need, and it would be much easier to utilize those instead."
Her fiancé was quiet for a second, his voice hesitant when he finally did speak. "He'll want to see you."
Hermione finished the rest of her drink, then shrugged without saying a word. Draco wore a look of resignation.
"We'll return tomorrow, then," he said as he made to leave. But he paused in the doorway, studying her motionless figure and contemplating.
"Would you like to have breakfast together?" He queried after several seconds.
His intended heaved a long, slow breath, then turned to face him. "I favour the courtyard in the morning. Eight o'clock, sharp."
Draco nodded, then gave her a short bow and wished her goodnight. Hermione went back to gazing out the window for a few more moments, when a familiar voice droned from between two bookshelves.
"I hope you weren't planning on leaving me here while you two ran on back to the Grand Manor," Delilah sniffed, materializing from nowhere. The girl she was addressing rolled her eyes.
"And how long have you been eavesdropping?"
"Technically I was here before you, oh high mistress. Then you came along and started on whatever the bloody hell you were researching. Skip a few astronomy classes and decided now was the time to make up for them?"
"It's none of your business. And in response to your first statement, yes, I was hoping to leave your arse here," Hermione ground out before turning to make her way from the library. She heard a chuckle behind her but no footsteps, as she headed to her quarters for the night.
—
Draco was relieved to see that the rain had let up some the next morning; it hinted that perhaps the Dark Lord was in a lighter mood, which was a hopeful sign.
He stared out at the manor courtyard, examining the fountains and greenery, then glanced at his wristwatch just as he heard the doors behind him open. He shook his head with a smirk as he turned.
"Are you ever later than ten minutes early?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.
"If social graces dictate, then yes. Otherwise, no."
The two of them sat at the little wrought iron table, and Maisy appeared seconds later, a tea trolley behind her. The elf snapped her fingers and made plates and cutlery materialize in front of the pair, then she began levitating the various trays of food onto the table.
Maisy bowed and asked if there was anything else the couple would like, and after being assured that all was well, she disappeared, leaving the two in silence.
There was an air of awkwardness as Hermione and Draco quietly started on breakfast. After a few minutes, however, the girl shoved down her discomfort.
"What do you like to do for fun? Other than quidditch, of course," she asked, trying to keep her tone light. Draco set down his tea, mildly surprised with the simplicity of the question, though he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting her to ask.
"I read, of course. And I like music composition, but it's been a while since I've actually sat down at the piano and pieced something together. I also like studying the old magical arts."
Hermione looked up at him curiously. "Is that how you learned… whatever it was you were tracing onto my shoulder several days ago?"
"Sigil Imbuing," he said with a nod. "Some of the forgotten clans used it to give themselves strength or luck, or to heal."
"Why wouldn't that be taught at school? It seems awfully useful to have been left out," the girl questioned with a raised eyebrow. Draco scowled disapprovingly.
"Because despite its numerous useful applications, there are ways it could be utilized for purposes that some would consider dark. Can't have that being taught, no matter how advantageous it might be for the vast majority of practicers."
He paused and thought for a moment. "Though it may also have been because it's quite rare for someone to actually be able to channel their magic into the symbols effectively. It took me months to even figure out how to focus intention enough to actually produce an effect, and what I can do currently is incredibly weak compared to some examples I've read about."
Hermione couldn't help the mocking gasp that escaped her. "You mean a member of the infallible and almighty Malfoy family is admitting to imperfection? Merlin save us, the world must be ending."
He gave an amused chuckle.
"I said what I can do currently. The more practiced you are, the stronger it becomes. I'll have to show you how to do it sometime."
They were both quiet for a moment, then it was Draco's turn to ask a question.
"When did you begin dancing? And how did you continue it through school?"
A wistful sigh escaped her. "I started when I was seven. I was no prodigy, but I grasped it easier than most. By the time I was accepted to Hogwarts, I'd already passed my first two examinations, and I had no intention of stopping just because I was going away for school. It was tricky, but my mother and I managed to track down a witch who had the qualifying credentials, and I got permission from the headmaster to use an empty classroom a few times a week for my lessons."
She looked down at the crepes on her plate. "I haven't danced since before Bill and Fleur's wedding. My technique has probably degraded to pathetic levels."
"Hermione… you do realize that this is your house now, don't you? If you want to turn the ballroom into a ballet studio, I'm sure you know all the Charm Work for it."
His tone was sympathetic, and his eyes were soft when she looked into them. She shrugged.
"Perhaps if I have the time. The next few months should keep me fairly busy, though," she said, her mind reviewing who she had lined up to contact when she returned to the Grand Manor. "What kind of cake do you prefer, by the way?"
They went back and forth as they continued their meal, asking questions and attempting to get to know each other. When they'd finished eating, Archie came to clear their dishes, a funny smile on his face as he got to work. The two eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then Draco sighed and stood, offering Hermione his hand. She took it and rose to her feet as well.
"I suppose we ought to go collect Delilah," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. The boy beside her nodded and called for Maisy.
"Tell Delilah to meet us in the west drawing room," he commanded, starting through the house and heading towards his room, still grasping his fiancée's hand.
Hermione watched as Draco retrieved a jewelry box similar to the one he had at the Grand Manor, a velvet cloth in his hands as he retrieved three buttons from the little case. He wrapped them in the cloth and turned back to the girl, but paused, glancing around the room and then back at his intended, his brow furrowing.
"You Apparated us in here when I first arrived," he mentioned, noting the way she crossed her arms over her chest and levelled her stare at him. Ever the Gryffindor challenger.
"I did."
"So you were in here before that, either for a substantial period of time or more than once."
To his surprise, she didn't deny it, just canted her head. "Which do you think it was?"
Speechless from her blunt admission, Draco just stared at her until she spun and made her way from the room, forcing him to shake himself out of his stupor.
Hermione still had her arms folded as they moved through the house. "Are you upset?" she questioned after a few moments. Her voice wasn't regretful, though. She sounded more like she was gauging his reaction. He shook his head.
"I can't exactly be upset with you for exploring the place, though I'm not entirely sure what was captivating enough about the master suite to draw you to it for such a length of time."
She gave him a mischievous sort of glance. "The master suite will be my room as well in six months. Perhaps I simply was taking notes on decoration."
The boy looked at her skeptically, but made no comment, the pair continuing towards their destination in silence.
Delilah looked as beautifully bored as she always did when they came upon the room.
"You two would lose a race to a slug, I hope you know," she admonished when she caught sight of the couple. She held her hand out, and Draco gave her a withering look as he dropped one of the buttons into her palm. She disappeared with a gleeful expression.
Hermione reached for one of the buttons and held her breath as she was whisked away, her feet hitting solid ground again far too many seconds later. She waited for the Portkey sickness to pass, then opened her eyes and looked around, her jaw dropping in awe.
They must have landed in the conservatory, she realized. There were florals and greenery everywhere, and even though she knew it to be raining outside, the light coming from above was bright, like sunlight. She brushed her fingers over the petals of a nearby orchid, hearing Draco appear behind her.
The boy was silent as he watched his betrothed take in the beauty of the greenhouse, admiring her dazzled expression. After a few moments, however, she came out of her trance and straightened, Trilly appearing that same instant and bowing before her.
"Mistress Granger, the Dark Lord be wishing to speak with you immediately! He be in his study."
The atmosphere in the room dropped quickly. Draco couldn't help the little spike of panic that shot through him, while Hermione almost seemed to darken. She stood a little straighter, her chin lifted, and her eyes narrowed.
"Delilah, you will escort me to the Dark Lord's study," she ordered, her tone formal. The called-for witch rolled her eyes but came to stand beside her charge. Draco began to protest, but Hermione shook her head.
"You ought to go see your mother, I'm sure she's been missing you. And you can check in on your father by extension."
Her logic made him hesitate, but if his father had awakened, his mother would have told him. He fidgeted with the ring on his right hand, still wanting to stay with his fiancée, but she placed one of her hands over his and stretched onto her toes, placing a feather-light kiss on his cheek.
"I will be fine, Draco," she insisted, then she turned to Delilah. "We best be going. I'm not eager to explore what happens to those who keep the Dark Lord waiting."
The two witches set off through the manor, and Draco uttered a quick plea to the stars, asking their protection on his intended while he made his way to his parents' room
—
Hermione and Delilah were silent for a bit, walking briskly through the expansive home. Then, surprisingly, Delilah spoke, her tone not as derisive as it ordinarily was.
"I applaud you, you know. For escaping The New Order, and for being smart enough to accept the Dark Lord's pardon. Not many of your former colleagues would be so humble."
Hermione set her jaw, the familiar ache in her chest flaring. She wondered if it would ever stop.
"Nice to hear loyalty garners no favour with you."
"There's loyalty and there's stupidity, Hermione. Blind faith in a cause is what will lead it to ruin. Look at where we Purebloods are now, at what brought you here. My mother had three miscarriages before conceiving my elder brother, and two after that before I was born. Bellatrix was a nutter from the day she took her first breath, ask anyone who knew her. The sicknesses have only gotten worse with each new generation, to the point where I'll be lucky to even have a child of my own, and why? Because blood purity was more important than playing smart and not marrying your own cousins."
She shook her head bitterly. "The Dark Lord understands now that magic, not lineage, is what determines your worth. If the stars have smiled on you and gifted you with their power, then you are worthy, in his eyes. But there's already generations of infirmity in our wonderfully pure blood, because some families put unwavering faith in the notion that heritage made you powerful. In the end, it made us weak. Stupidity."
Glancing at the girl beside her, Hermione saw absolute loathing in her features, and wondered how many other Pureblood children had come to a similar conclusion but were unable to express it due to familial duties.
They neared the Dark Lord's study, both of them feeling the aura of power coming from the room. Delilah paused and took the bracelet from her wrist, handing it to Hermione.
"You may need this for a few hours. It'll dull the pain from his Legilimency."
Hermione was stunned for a moment at the gesture, then recovered and clasped the ornament around her arm, feeling a soothing warmth emanate from within her. She gave her companion a nod of gratitude before turning towards the door.
As it had the first time she'd stood outside the beautiful entryway of Lord Voldemort's office, the door swung open of its own accord, though this time there was no music coming from within.
"Enter," the Dark Lord's voice commanded, and for a moment, Hermione felt dread shoot through her veins, ice cold and slippery. Then the warmth from the bracelet seemed to intensify, replacing the panic with indifference, and she strode casually into the domain of the Dark Lord.
She heard a lock click behind her, as she stood with her head bowed, waiting to be acknowledged.
"Sit," the wizard ordered, his tone clipped. Hermione did as ordered, perching on one of the settees while Voldemort watched her with garnet-colored eyes. He glanced down at her wrist and gave a smirk.
"How kind of Miss Burke to grant you her bracelet for a while. It should make this go a bit smoother…"
Even with the numbing of the jewelry, Hermione cringed as the Dark Lord began rifling through her memories, this time examining every detail of her tenure with The New Order.
—