With a contented sigh, Narcissa Malfoy sank into her usual armchair in front of the fireplace in her parlour. As comfortable as she had felt with her sister, her own four walls were still preferable. The round table in front of her was set with her favourite china that she had brought with her into the marriage, all three men had stood up to pay their respects upon her arrival, and her husband had even greeted her with a quick kiss. Obviously, Severus had succeeded as hoped in getting Lucius back on track. The mudblood stood near Snape and looked intimidated. With a sideways glance at the young slave girl, Narcissa decided to spill a little of the beans.
"Bella really is the best sister you could wish for!" she began the conversation. Everyone's eyes immediately turned to her, and Lucius in particular seemed interested in what she had to say. With a subtle smile, she continued, "She really did a great job hosting me, she made me feel so welcome. And she is so creative. Do you know what she does with her slave?"
She watched her husband's reaction to this question attentively, but he only raised his eyebrow with interest instead of giving his slave a concerned look as she expected. Narcissa was beginning to wonder whether she had imagined his exaggerated interest in the mudblood or whether Snape had worked wonders. She really needed to speak to him in private before he left. First, however, she continued with a smile, "My good sister has always been quite fond of intercourse with young, well-trained men. And since Rodolphus can't seem to give her enough, she has trained her slave. No one is as good at breaking a man's will and mind as she is. The boy is always naked, always willing, always ready. And if she feels like it, she can have fun with him at any time. This would not do for me, I am a faithful, monogamous wife, but I admire the creature she has created."
Her husband still showed no unusual reaction, only Draco seemed to have gone a little white around the nose. She couldn't blame him; after all, he was still a child himself and too young to be as relaxed about cruelty as she was. Her smile widened as she turned to Severus. "I knew the boy. Severus, I'm sure he was in the same year as Draco. Some ginger Weasley scion, a brother of your slave. What was his name again?"
"Ronald Weasley," he replied with an unconcerned expression, "the youngest son of this family. Although I wouldn't have thought it possible, year after year he has managed to undercut the pathetic achievements of his brothers. It seems that only the girl in the family has inherited anything like intelligence. The rest are a bunch of wimps."
"Yes, that's right, Ronald Weasley!" Narcissa agreed happily, clapping her hands before turning to Hermione, "Wasn't that your lover, mudblood? How do you like the idea of him having fun with my sister now?"
White as a sheet, Hermione stared at the woman. She had been uneasy ever since she had entered the parlour, and when Narcissa Malfoy started her story with a malicious smile and a sideways glance at her, she suspected the worst immediately. She knew better than to say anything back now, but inside she was seething. She didn't want to imagine what Ron was going through. She had experienced the madness of Bellatrix Lestrange herself, had seen how behind this madness lurked an uncanny talent for manipulation and cruelty. She never doubted for a second that the words she just heard were true. Don't let that get to me, she ordered herself, you've gained an ally today who will save the world with you. And Ron too! You will be able to save Ron! You can't do anything for him now, but you will be able to help him if you stay strong. Only if you stay strong! Don't let this get to you!
Again and again, Hermione said these words in her mind as she tuned out the other petty banter of the people in front of her. She could feel tears of despair welling up inside her, longing to just give up, to break down, to give up hope and with it the fight. But a small part of her kept her from doing so. She hadn't known whether Ron was dead or not until today, now she had the certainty that a future with him was still possible. Even if his condition was probably terrible, she now had more reason than ever not to give up, to keep fighting, to work for her freedom.
The heavy hand that suddenly placed itself on her shoulder tore her from these thoughts. Surprised, she looked up at Malfoy, who looked at her with concern, but gave her a sharp order. "You're no longer needed here, go back to the library. Maybe you'll finish your tasks in this life if you stop wasting time."
With one last glance around - Narcissa looked at her haughtily, Snape looked as emotionless as ever, and Draco was clearly uncomfortable - Hermione nodded curtly, muttered, "Yes, sir," and disappeared from Narcissa Malfoy's unpleasant presence, relieved.
oOoOoOo
"Well, Severus, what can you tell me?" Narcissa inquired with interest as she led her guest along the path to the front gate of the manor. Normally, it was the house elves' job to take guests from the gate to the house and back again, but Narcissa wanted to take this opportunity to speak to her spy in private.
"Not much," Snape replied emotionlessly, "at least not much negative. From what I've seen of Lucius, he looks like any other wizard who lusts after young women."
"Do you think so?" she asked, "It always seemed to me that he considered the slave girl to be the most important member of our household."
"I can't judge how he usually behaves, but while I was here, he never once treated her any differently than I would have treated Ginevra Weasley, my slave. And," he added, "speaking of her. I deliberately sent her to him while he was alone to find out if he was only interested in Granger. That's not the case. If your son hadn't happened to come by, he would have touched my property without my permission. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Narcissa, but your husband has no concern for propriety."
"Sharp-tongued as ever, my good Severus," the blonde woman nodded slowly, "but you have nothing to apologise for. Lucius has always been a ladies' man, that was the reason why I fell in love with him after he started courting me seriously. And even though it's been so many years, I still cling to the memory of those good old days whenever I'm in danger of forgetting why I'm still with him. My sister has offered me the chance to move in with her whenever I feel like it, but ... I won't let it come to that."
They both stopped at the gate. Snape looked at the small, older lady in front of him with an expressionless face. He would never say it, but in the last few years he had noticed more and more often that she also had that insane look of her sister Bellatrix Lestrange. The Blacks belonged to one of the twenty-eight pureblood dynasties that were particularly strict about marriages and producing offspring - and accordingly, many more or less serious cases of inbreeding had caused considerable damage to the youngest generation. He almost felt sorry for Narcissa Malfoy.
"If you need my services again, feel free to write to me again," he said, before waving his wand and apparating back to his apartment.
oOoOoOo
Lost in thought, Severus Snape sat in his armchair in front of the fireplace, the teacup Ginny had prepared in his hand, without actually drinking from it. He sensed his slave's curiosity as soon as he entered his apartment, but after all these months of living together, she asked him no questions. He was grateful for that. The weekend had been too turbulent, too many things had happened that he hadn't planned. He hadn't had time to speak to Hermione again, but he knew he would have to create an opportunity to do so in the near future.
"Your curiosity is interrupting my concentration," he finally stated, turning to Ginny, "You're really not good at keeping your emotions to yourself. I'll allow you to ask one question, then please go to your room so I can have some peace and quiet. So. One question."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Weasley girl open and close her mouth several times, obviously in an effort to find out the most important question and not ask an unnecessary one. After a few minutes, she finally asked a question that sounded more like an accusation. "Did you send me away so that I wouldn't see you abusing Hermione again?"
"No."
The indignant widening of her eyes was exactly the reaction he expected, but before Ginny could follow up angrily, he added, "I didn't do anything to your friend, in your presence or out of it, not this weekend. The reason I sent you away is because of your own incompetence.
"Excuse me?" Ginny exclaimed in a rage, "What the hell have I done, exactly? I didn't do anything!"
"It's not about your behaviour this weekend, Miss Weasley," he explained patiently before continuing sarcastically, "It's about your general character and behaviour. Your incompetence lies in your temperamental disposition and the Gryffindor's oft-praised trait of wearing your heart on your sleeve."
"I didn't insult anyone, if that's what you're implying!" she shouted as she jumped up and clenched her fists. She simply couldn't understand why he had taken her with him in the first place, only to send her home alone.
But Snape did not engage in any further conversation. "I have answered one question for you. If you don't understand my answer, you're even stupider than I thought. And now please go to your room. Your presence robs me of my peace and quiet."
Without another word, Ginny left the small sitting room, but made sure the door to her room slammed shut with a loud crash. She hated him and she wanted him to feel it.
oOoOoOo
Tired, Hermione ran a wet hand over her forehead. The weekend had been long and today in particular. Narcissa Malfoy forbid the house elves to help Hermione with the washing up from now on. Previously, this had not been her task after dinner, but apparently the mistress of the house wanted to make sure that her husband found his way to the marital bed in the evening, which she now intended to share with him again - and it was only good if the slave girl was busy with the dirty dishes until late at night.
Dissatisfied, Hermione let the sponge slide back into the now cold water, fetched a new kettle, dragged it into the courtyard where there was a pump to fill it with water and then heat it over the fireplace in the kitchen. It was laughable that a family as proud as the Malfoys would employ a slave to do housework the Muggle way. Annoyed, she reached for a cloth to wipe down the large kitchen table while she waited for the new water to heat up.
Unnoticed by her, the master of the house approached the entrance to the kitchen, but when he found his slave distractedly at work, he stopped and retreated into the shadows of the door. He knew he shouldn't be attracted to a mudblood, but when she began to wipe the table with her back to him, leaning far forward, occasionally emitting a strained or annoyed moan and her bottom showing beneath the short skirt of her slave costume, he once again felt the now familiar arousal that always struck him when he was alone with her. His eyes followed her round bottom with fascination, registering every movement of the muscles on her bare thighs, while he imagined in his mind that the dress wasn't there, that she was standing completely naked in front of him. She deliberately turned her butt towards him, leaning forward, her arms firmly on the table, clinging to the edge, her eyes almost pleading to be taken hard by him. Legs spread, willing, wet. For him.
A low moan escaped him and before he knew it, he approached his slave from behind, embracing her tightly with both arms. Another moan escaped him as he felt her stiffen in shock, but then relax again when she recognised him. He greedily pressed his now hard cock against her ass and pulled her into a tighter embrace.