"So, you're still alive."
The cold stare from Narcissa Malfoy made Hermione want to crawl into a hole. She would have expected the master of the house to meet her and Snape at the front door, but instead his wife now stood before them. It was obvious that Narcissa was not happy about her return, and Hermione was sure at that moment that she, and not Lucius Malfoy himself, had been behind locking her out. When she thought about it properly, she had not seen Malfoy at all after lunch that day. Even the hazy memories of how he had taken her in his arms and prepared a hot bath for her indicated that he had nothing to do with the incident. It was all the more disturbing now that once again only his wife stood before her.
"I will stay for lunch," Snape said, looking indifferently at Narcissa Malfoy. Without another retort, the lady of the house led the visitor toward the small drawing room.
As he stepped through the door, she turned to Hermione. "You can make yourself useful in the kitchen."
Happy for the opportunity to escape the woman's hateful gaze, Hermione hurried along the familiar path to the kitchen. She was almost looking forward to seeing the house elves again, who had always been so friendly to her in the past weeks. But her joy was short-lived, for as she entered, she could make out Draco Malfoy's blond hair in the hustle and bustle. Rooted to the spot, she stopped as he leisurely turned to regard her.
"Ah, you're still alive."
What was wrong with this family that they could think of nothing better than to regretfully note her survival? Hermione clenched her hands angrily, but didn't deign to retort. Instead, she grabbed the apron hanging by the door, tied it on, and set about helping the house elves prepare dinner.
"You should show me more respect." Malfoy remarked, his cold gaze unnervingly resting on her.
A shiver ran down Hermione's spine, but she refused to panic again so soon after her arrival, just because the son of the house said a few unkind words. Stubbornly she washed the vegetables, demonstratively looked past her former classmate and wished that he would finally disappear. However, he did not do her this favour, on the contrary, after a few minutes of silence she felt him approach her and pull her into his arms from behind.
"Did you enjoy your days with Snape?" he asked softly as he wrapped one hand around her throat and pressed her arms tightly against her body with the other, "Did you spread your legs for him again to curry his favour?"
Hermione swallowed hard and struggled desperately for air before she managed to produce a reply. "How many times are you going to repeat that nonsense, Malfoy? As if I would ever enjoy that!"
"Oh, but you did enjoy it, you can't deny that, dear," he replied with mock tenderness, "I did hear your moans while Snape fucked you. And I saw you snuggle into my father's arms as if you were his mistress. Tell me, Granger, did you have a thing for Death Eaters back in your school days, or did that come after?"
"We've had this conversation before, Malfoy, and neither do I understand what your point is, nor will you get any different of an answer than you did before. So, let go of me!" Hermione hissed back, annoyed and frightened. Over and over again Malfoy kept coming up with the same ridiculous accusations, she was tired of it. Following a sudden inspiration, she finally added, "Could it be that you're jealous? Is that why you used to pick on me when we were in school and now you're treating me with so much hatred - because you secretly fancy me? Is that it? Does the thought of sleeping with a mudblood turn you on?"
Instantly, Draco let go of her and almost jumped back a step as if horrified by her words. "How dare you? My father treats you far too well or you wouldn't dare speak to me like that!"
Tensely Hermione stared at him. She suddenly regretted provoking him when she noticed the dangerous aura emanating from the young man. Ever since her first day at Malfoy Manor, she had sensed that there was something wrong with Draco Malfoy, and the more she got to know him, the more certain she was that he was a ticking time bomb. At Hogwarts, she had blamed his tantrums and aggression on his enmity with Harry, but from what she had seen by now, he seemed to have serious problems. And she knew it was never wise to irritate such people. To her relief, however, Draco seemed to have no further interest in the discussion; with one last, evil look, he turned away and left the kitchen.
oOoOoOo
Frozen, Hermione stood in her usual spot in the corner of the dining room, watching the family and Snape eat lunch. She was disappointed and hurt, and at the same time ashamed of these feelings. She couldn't explain where these emotions came from, she hated herself for feeling anything even close to this, and yet she couldn't deny it. Just as she had been horrified to realise that she had missed Lucius Malfoy, she was now horrified to realise that she was disappointed that he was ignoring her. She had been sure he would be glad to see her again, but other than a curt nod, he paid her no further attention.
It wasn't as if she had any affection for him. That much was certain. But Hermione had felt that there was more between them than the relationship of a slave to her master. That perhaps he respected her, or at least appreciated her presence. But obviously she had been wrong about that. Or maybe it had just been her imagination? Perhaps Lucius Malfoy's polite, considerate manner had seemed much warmer in her memory during her stay with Snape than it really was, because she had argued so much with Snape and she had felt so much fear of him. If she was honest with herself, other than a hug and a stopped attempt to sleep with her, there wasn't really anything to indicate a special relationship.
Maybe she had been lying to herself. In order to dilute the reality of slavery, her head spun up in her an image of Lucius Malfoy that probably had nothing to do with the facts. If he knew how she thought - had thought - about him, he would probably be disgusted.
A resounding slap from out of the blue brought her back to reality. Shocked, Hermione held her cheek as she looked to the table with tears in her eyes: Lucius Malfoy was turned around in his chair and was pointing his wand at her.
"Answer when you're spoken to!" he commanded in a sharp tone. Confused, Hermione looked at him - she must have missed a prompt while she was lost in thought. She didn't miss the sardonic look from Narcissa Malfoy, nor the suspicious one from Draco.
"What did you order, master?" she asked cautiously, ready to receive another magical slap.
But the master of the house left it at an angry look and only repeated his order, "You are to leave your work in the kitchen for today and go straight to the library. You've completely wasted more than two days, so you'll make up for it today, no matter how long it takes."
Outraged, Hermione started to retort - as if her illness was her fault - but then thought better of it. Instead, she just nodded and waited until Lucius Malfoy finished his meal to be led by him into the library. She just noticed Snape looking after her with interest, but the conversation faded away behind the closing doors.
oOoOoOo
Hermione's concentration slowly waned. She had been sitting alone in the library for hours, as the master had only watched her for a brief moment and then left after admonishing her, "You're not leaving here until you've catalogued all the books on the desk. Even if it takes all night!"
It was dark outside by now, and her stomach growled. Aside from a frantically gulped down slice of bread, she had had nothing for lunch. The pile on the chair next to her was as high as the pile on the table - indicating to her that she was about halfway through her work. She certainly wouldn't be able to leave the library before midnight. She felt her body crying out for food and sleep, her muscles tired, and she still wasn't recovered. Moreover, she was cold. She knew it wasn't actually cold here, but still, she couldn't stop a shiver. It was probable that her body had not yet cured the fever and was now incubating it with renewed vehemence.
"Blimey, why did he take me to Snape for healing in the first place if he's just going to let me get sick again now?" she grumbled quietly to herself. After all - why this effort to try to save her when he was now treating her so coldly? If he didn't care about her, he could have just let her freeze to death. Surely someone else could do the work here, and he had never seriously used her for sex before. What was this man doing?
The soft creak of the door made Hermione look up. As always, the Malfoy men managed to appear just when she was thinking about them. With long strides, Lucius Malfoy approached until he stopped just in front of her.
"Have you had any dinner?" he asked. When Hermione shook her head, his eyes narrowed. "Why not? You were just sick, if you don't eat, you'll get sick again. Do you think I gave you away for two days just for fun? I want this work done as soon as possible, so you better make sure you don't get sick again!"
Outraged at this injustice, Hermione shot up from her chair. "YOU told me not to leave the library before I was done!"
"So now it's my fault you're not eating properly?" came back the cold question.
Hermione couldn't believe this man's logic, but she was too tired and hungry to get into an argument. "If you don't mind, I would like to go to the kitchen for a moment then."
"Waste of time!" he interrupted her, "I'll call a house elf to bring bread and milk. But you will eat outside so you don't soil my books."
Surrendered, Hermione nodded and followed her master outside. Within a few minutes the house-elf appeared with a slice of bread and a glass of milk, which she had to choke down standing up. She didn't really feel satiated, but she felt her body grateful and a little warmer. Questioningly, she then looked up at Lucius Malfoy.
"Don't look so stupid, get back to work or you'll never finish!" he snapped at her. Briefly, her gaze lingered on him, but since there was no further reaction, she just shrugged and returned to her desk. She was only peripherally aware that Malfoy was not following her. She was not comfortable with the idea of sitting alone in the large library late at night - especially with the memory of her last conversations with Draco Malfoy, in which he had made it clear several times that he would not leave her alone so easily at night. After that conversation, his father had taken her to his room - and immediately afterwards she had ended up with Snape, deathly ill. The fact that Draco had not shown his face again was therefore only due to a lack of opportunity.
And if he didn't use the chance now, it would be more than strange.