Hermione read everything she could on ancestral and genetically inherited blood curses. It took her and Tappy a few days to scour every book in the library. Since they were rare afflictions to the blood, much more so than vampirism and lycanthropy, there was little research that had been done. It didn't stop her from trying. She searched on the highest shelves and in the deepest corners for something. Anything to keep Astoria from dying and becoming like him.
Him.
Draco Malfoy, helping the Order in hopes of getting a slap on the wrist, she thought. Voldemort was weak, and he knew it. The Order was so close, just two horcruxes away from able to defeat his reign of terror.
Of course Draco would strike a deal. To make sure that his assets would be kept within the Malfoy and Greengrass names and that his little friends would serve as little consequence as possible. The war was coming to an end, and he needed a way out.
Hermione tapped her fingers angrily on the desk as she thought about the cure to vampirism. It wasn't just for Astoria, she was sure of it. The arrogant prick wanted it for himself too.
"Good morning, pretty girl," Astoria said as she came up the stairs. Hermione did her best to calm her breathing and relax before she came to her side.
"Morning," she replied, trying to smile. Astoria set her chin on her shoulder, looking at the book she was holding. The sweet smell of lavender oil on her skin was calming and comforting. Hermione tried to shake the thought of seeing Pansy's arms around Draco.
"Have you read 'Lost in Time' by Florence Bellsborough?" Astoria asked.
Hermione was aware of the novel, it was a romance book that was relatively popular among young witches. It wasn't, however, something Hermione found particularly interesting as a topic. To be quite frank, she thought that Astoria and others likely wouldn't find the books she read to be any fun either.
Many would describe Hermione's choices in books as bland and boring. She didn't care so much as to read fiction. Those stories were always too fantastical, not attainable, unrealistic. She didn't allow herself to dream of things like true love and happy endings anymore. Hermione had had those things within her grasp at one point, and all she was left with was flesh under her fingernails from clawing away at them as they were torn from her.
Hermione tapped her chin, pondering. "I can't say I have, why do you ask?"
Astoria set a copy of 'Lost in Time' in front of her. The cover made Hermione laugh when she saw the moving image of an overly muscular man holding onto a dainty woman with a time turner between their hands.
"I'm hosting book club tonight, and thought you'd maybe want to join. It's a good book, I think you'd like it. It's very sweet, and very… descriptive." She winked and played with a strand of her hair. "The girls all loved hanging out with you at the ball, thought you were a grand time. They wanted to see you again."
"Oh, I can barely remember. It was a blur." Hermione said as she tried to recount the faces at the card table.
Astoria scrunched her nose. "You can blame Draco for that. I can't believe he gave you three large drams of calming. And he's the one in a pissy mood the following morning? Can you believe that?" She scoffed, crossing her arms. "The nerve of men sometimes."
Hermione might have said no to anyone else other than Astoria. She held this charm over her that was similar to Ginny Weasley. And, despite the odds against her, Astoria persisted. She found every bit of positivity and happiness in a fading life and made her own world with it. Forced to bear a curse of someone she didn't know, marrying a vampire to save her family, living despite the pain she was in.
Hermione couldn't say no.
And it wasn't for Astoria alone. She knew that she could gather some information from the book club with all the gossip Astoria had spoken of. Hopefully by going and putting on a face, she'd be able to gather some insights on what's going on outside the stone walls of Malfoy Manor.
"Astoria, I would love to join your book club," Hermione laughed as she tried to focus her back on the conversation.
"Would you really?" Her eyes lit up, and she smiled ear to ear. "Will you be able to finish the book by then? That's a silly question, of course you will."
—
With the way Astoria was decorating, one would have thought that she had invited royalty to the Malfoy Manor. Several more chairs were added to the sitting room, and Hermione watched as she directed the house elves and waved her wand to make everything sit perfectly. Twinkle followed behind her closely, holding out her arms as if to catch her if she fell.
"Well, what do you two think?" she asked Tappy and Twinkle.
"Looks perfect, Lady Astoria," Twinkle said with awe in her eyes as she looked at the witch, ignoring the decorations.
"Tappy thinks, respectfully my Lady, that the centerpiece is off center," Tappy replied nervously.
"You're right, Tappy," Astoria said, fussing over the flower arrangements.
It was strange for Hermione to be fluffing pillows for a gaggle of Voldemort sympathizers and discuss a highly erotic romance novel with them. Not so long ago, she was running through the logistics of using explosive charms to breach into Azkaban with Moody and falling asleep on a small cot in a hallway. Now, she was about to drink the finest tea with the socialites of wizarding society.
Hermione cringed.
She desperately wished to be at 12 Grimmauld Place holding James and Albus in her arms. If she was back with the Order, they might have sent her abroad by now with her forced time off. How ironic it was that she was supposed to be relaxing somewhere away from the war but was being held captive in the middle of it.
"Guests are arriving, Tori," Daphne called as she opened the large wooden doors to the manor. Her arms opened wide as she gave a quick embrace to a few women that entered the home. Hermione didn't look up, becoming anxious as she headed the layering voices coming from the entryway.
She let the waves come over her, not wanting to feel awkward or annoyed. Under different circumstances, Hermione might have liked being in a book club.
The women started to file into the sitting room. She recognized Millicent, Flora and Hestia Carrow, and Gemma Farley. There were a few others she either didn't know their names or had any idea of who they were. They gave Astoria hugs and kisses on the cheek. A few of them even offered Hermione a quick embrace. Hermione didn't much mind it until Pansy showed up.
She didn't know if Astoria was aware of Draco's affair, or if she even cared. It felt wrong still, for Pansy to be her best friend and be sleeping with her husband. Even if it was just a marriage of convenience.
As Pansy pulled away from Astoria's arms, she made quick eye contact with Hermione, nearly glaring at her before turning away. On her left arm was the Dark Mark. It made Hermione's stomach turn, nearly wishing she had a calming draught.
How many has she killed?
Was she one of the Death Eaters torturing me at the Ministry?
Have I encountered her in battle?
In their youth, she remembered Pansy as another Draco Malfoy groupie, following him around like a lost puppy. She even recalled they had dated several times throughout their time at Hogwarts. Pansy cheated her way through classes, played teacher's pet, and did just about anything to gain a favorable position. It made sense to Hermione why she was sleeping with Draco. Fucking Voldemort's prized vampire had to have some perks. If anything, she imagined it would have made her feel powerful.
She sat quietly as the women began catching up. They showered Daphne and Astoria with compliments on the house, the spread of food, the ball. It felt shallow to her.
"My favorite part of the book was when he took her to France and made love to her on the Eiffel Tower," Millicent said. "At any moment they could have been caught."
The women giggled and nodded in agreement. Hermione just sat and observed. Sure, she did think that sneakily getting off with the threat of being seen was a bit appealing, but that was the average sex life of those living at one of the Order safe houses. Finding wherever room or cot was free of people, and racing against time to finally hit the peak of ecstasy.
"I quite liked it when he was a bit rougher with her," Astoria said shyly, blushing as she announced it to the room.
"Oh, that's very naughty, Tori," Pansy said teasingly. "I bet Draco can get real rough with you if you wanted, huh?"
Hermione bit her tongue. She thought that perhaps if Pansy knew of the arrangement that Astoria and Draco, she could be somewhat redeemable. It was looking less likely at the moment, but alas, Hermione kept her mouth shut.
Astoria's face went white. "A girl doesn't kiss and tell," she said nervously laughing.
"The same doesn't go for your sister there," Millicent giggled.
Daphne snorted, nearly choking on her tea. "Millie, if you had someone who makes love half as good as Theodore, you'd never shut up about it either."
Pansy's eyes darted to Hermione, giving a small smirk. "Well, mudblood. What was your favorite part of the book? Awfully quiet over there for someone who couldn't ever shut up in our school days."
"Pansy, don't call her that," Astoria said firmly.
"Your sister and husband do. You don't correct them," Pansy shrugged.
"This is my home, Pansy." Astoria gave her the same tone and look that she used to shut Draco and Theodore up, one that she rarely used, but was effective.
"Sorry Granger," she emphasized her last name. "Do you have any thoughts at all? Or are you too full of potions to even know what's going on?"
If she didn't have to be on her best behavior to avoid issues with Draco's plans, she would have stood up and punched her in the mouth. She pictured going right over to Pansy and knocking her teeth out, wishing she had her wand just to have a bit of fun. But she needed to put on an act and be civilized, as much as it pained her. Hermione took a few subtle deep breaths, clearing her head.
"My favorite part? The end, where they both realized that no matter how much they tried to relive the past, they still wouldn't end up together."
Pansy's green eyes were nearly on fire as they glared at Hermione. They were a vibrant green, like Harry's, but they were filled with so much hate. Hermione had always known her distaste for muggle-born, similar to Daphne, but it seemed rooted so much deeper than Daphne's offhand remarks.
"Well, I am just so excited for the next book. Millie, you're hosting next week, yeah?" Daphne interrupted before Pansy could get another word in.
As the women started to file out of the house, Pansy gave a goodbye hug to Astoria, making sure to give Hermione a backhanded compliment and a not so pleasant face on the way out.
Hermione was fuming as she helped Tappy and Twinkle clean up after the event. Though it felt unbecoming of her to be washing 'pure-blood' dishes, it was a calming task. To lather the dishes with soap, rise them off, and dry them. The way her fingertips pruned afterwards showed a labor many witches and wizards never exerted. It felt so human.
Though she desperately missed her magic, she found that performing these tasks made her remember her parents. Memories that were nearly lost to time she got to think about when she preformed mundane tasks like brewing coffee or washing dishes. Hermione wished she could spend some time in the Malfoy garden in the sun, getting dirt under her fingernails and grass stains on her knees. One more thing to feel more human.
Hermione turned her head to see Daphne come through the kitchen doors. As she entered, she crossed her arms, looking directly at her. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her entrance. Since being held captive here, she had yet to be alone with Daphne.
"I know you saw something happen between Pansy and Draco. I suggest you keep it to yourself, even if you hate Pansy, it isn't about her," Daphne said assertively.
"You don't think Astoria deserves to know her best friend is fucking her husband?"
Daphne shook her head. "You don't understand. She doesn't care that Draco fools around, he sleeps around with a bunch of women. But if she found out her best friend is betraying their trust? That would break her heart."
Hermione turned off the tap and looked at Daphne. Her soft blonde curls framed her flawless face. It looked as if she was a painting, rather than a real person standing in front of her. But she was real, and Hermione needed her to realize how big of a mistake this all was. "You can't protect Astoria from everything."
"You don't think I know that? She's dying for fuck sake! Let her be happy. God, you are fucking miserable, aren't you?"
Hermione stood with her soapy hands raised, "Obviously, Daphne! You think anyone would be happy being captive by a fucking vampire?"
"You are ungrateful. Draco could be putting you under the imperius curse. Or worse, he could be torturing you, he's quite good at that." Daphne brushed the air away from her face, staring down at Hermione with an eyebrow raised. Her voice was like poison, it was harsh and it lingered.
"I'm not the one sucking on the tit of Malfoy and living a life of luxury, I have nothing to be grateful for. He's holding me captive. I'm not some houseguest, I am a prisoner, Daphne," Hermione spat back.
Daphne scoffed, "Oh boohoo. Poor Hermione Granger. The Golden Girl. Eating the finest foods, sleeping on imported silk, and wearing custom tailored clothing. How will she ever survive?"
"I think you are gravely mistaken. Do you not realize that he takes me to go get brainwashed and tortured? Or are you too blinded by your own vanity to realize there are things other than you that exist in the world?" Hermione was fuming, her hands shaking in frustration.
"Been there, done that, sweetheart. You act as if we all haven't been beaten and tortured by Voldemort."
Hermione wanted to scream, wanted to yell in Daphne's face about all the lives that had been lost at Voldemort's hand. Because of him, she had lost everything. Her family, her dreams, her life, all shredded away because of the war. It was more than just torture, it was years of torment and agony.
"He's taken everything from me, while your dearest brother-in-law acts as his right hand."
"And you haven't the slightest idea what Voldemort has done to this family." She scoffed. "Draco was forced to kill our father in front of us. Took thirty minutes for him to die, and we had to watch every second. Astoria couldn't sleep for weeks. She would wake up in the night screaming till her throat bled."
Hermione froze as Daphne stared at her, her arms still crossed, almost holding herself. It seemed so obvious now that Voldemort would have executed Cornelius Greengrass in some horrific fashion, in front of his own daughters no less. Hermione could see the pain in her eyes, despite the stoic look upon her face.
"Daphne, I'm so sorry," Hermione stumbled over her words.
She shook her head, scoffing. "I bet you don't even know what happened to Draco."
"I don't," Hermione replied softly.
Hermione wanted to so desperately believe that Draco has asked for this life. But knowing all the things that Voldemort has done, she wouldn't be surprised if it was as horrific as what he had done to Cornelius.
Did she want to know?
"Voldemort found out Narcissa had lied about Harry being dead. Lucius tried to take them and leave the country, but he got to them before they could escape. Killed Lucius on the spot, but poor Auntie Narcissa." She shook her head and looked down. "He made a vampire turn her. Kept her in a holding cell for weeks, no blood, no food, nothing. Starved her until she went feral." Daphne paused, swallowing hard. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "Then he took Draco and threw him in the cage with her."
Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, mortified. In all her theories, she had never once considered something so heinous. She knew that his parents were dead early into the war, she just never knew the details. Not until now.
He was a monster, because he was forced to become one.
"Narcissa was a good woman and a loving mother. When she finally came to her senses after draining him of blood, she had to save him the only way she could. He died that day. He may be here in the flesh, but he really did die that day."
"Daphne… I don't..,"
"Don't know what to say? No one ever does. Most people don't even know. He's not a good person, but he's good to me and he's good to Tori. That's all I care about. And if you do anything to upset her, I will make Voldemort's work look like child's play."
Daphne turned away, exiting out the doors in a storm. It was almost electrifying how her anger seemed to change the whole atmosphere.
Hermione couldn't move, she was dumbfounded as she recounted the horrors the three had to endure. What Draco had gone through seemed like too much for one to bear. The thought of him seeing his mother, crazed and attacking him, taking his life.
He was just a kid.
But now, he was a man.
A knot formed in her stomach. She wanted to feel for him, to understand that he had no other options, but she couldn't erase the images of his carnage from her memories. It was impossible for her to unsee what he had done to her friends. He died that day, but many more had died after.
The nightmares found Hermione as if they had been searching for her. She had been protected by the charms on her bed or hiding behind the fog of alcohol, but like a skilled hunter, the nightmares lurked in the shadows. keeping on her trail, never losing her scent. When she thought she has escaped them, they came back stronger. A reminder that they were always there, and she could never be free.
She wouldn't ask for the charms to be recast or fit any draughts of dreamless sleep, too prideful to admit she needed help. After tossing and turning, she decided that the nightmares may take her sleep, but that's all she would give them tonight. Hermione pulled a green, silk robe from her closet and walked barefoot to the Malfoy Library.
"Awake again, Granger? I'm starting to think you sleep less than me."