Hermione's eyes fluttered open slowly, her body screaming stiffly in protest. Her hands clenched, and she realized in her fists she felt silken fabric. Willing her eyes open, she looked down at her hands. Green satin was gripped tightly between bruised knuckles. Her eyes travelled up her legs. She had on a linen sleep dress and a plush robe tied round it. Green. Her eyes darted around the room. A large room, almost a suite, tastefully decorated in shades of dark greens, silvers, and black. It hit her with a sinking realisation. There was only one logical place she could be.
Malfoy Manor.
The previous day's events came flooding back to her in a rush, as she remembered seeing Draco, and…
Rose.
Hermione bolted upright, desperately looking around for her baby. There was a bassinet in the corner she dashed over to. Nothing. Completely empty.
Then her mind started to work again.
Scabior.
He's gone.
It was all too much. She braced herself over the edge of the bassinet, clutching tightly to the edges, and broke down in great, heaving sobs that wracked her thin frame. She cried for what felt like an hour but in reality was several minutes. She cried so hard she felt thirsty, and the beginnings of a headache at her temples. Hermione's hands began to massage the throbbing flesh on each side. She was jolted unceremoniously from her reverie by an unfamiliar voice.
"Miss is wanting to see the baby?,"
Hermione startled as she turned to see a small elf in a tattered blue dress behind her, carrying a tray of food.
"Where is Rose?!"
The elf looked at her sympathetically. "Winky took her to give a bottle for Miss, so Miss may rest. Master has said Miss must rest to regain her strength. Master also said Miss is far too thin."
Hermione's jaw set in an agitated line as the elf extended the tray to her view.
"He said I am too thin?!" She had felt awfully curvy of late.
"Yes, Miss. Winky has brought some stew with potatoes and some trifle, along with tea for Miss."
The elf placed the tray onto a green marble-topped writing desk that sat at the back corner of the room, opposite the bassinet.
"Thank you. I would like to see Rose first."
"But the food will get cold! Master says-"
"Take me to see Rose or to see him. One or both, but I will see about my baby before anything else happens."
"Yes, Miss," Winky said, sadly looking at the tray she had lovingly prepared.
Hermione let out a sigh. She felt bad for the small creature, much worse that she had to work here in this dismal place.
"Well…I am a little hungry."
Winky looked up, hopefully.
"I will eat first. Thank you for preparing this for me."
Winky's face brightened with a smile.
"Of course, Miss!," she said with a curtsy.
"Where are my clothes?"
"They is being washed for Miss. But Master says you will find the armoire well appointed."
Winky gestured towards an imposing-looking armoire that sat far back in the room before continuing.
"Winky hopes Miss will enjoy the stew….and the trifle! Winky will be back in fifteen minutes for Miss. She will speak with the Master!"
And before Hermione could say anything, off she popped.
Hermione walked over to the desk and sat. There was the tray of stew and tea, and the trifle, next to which sat a note. She reached for it gingerly, curious as to it's message.
Hermione cleared her throat, as she reached for the tea and sipped at it and began to read the letter.
'Granger. Your daughter is fine. We gave you dreamless sleep so you might rest. Eat and we shall speak.
DM'
Hermione crumpled the letter in one hand, feeling her jaw clench unconsciously as she did so.
Malfoy.
What a prat he used to be, and not much better now.
And where was the box and the document?
Yes! She'd nearly forgotten. It had all been such a blur. She reminded herself to ask him when she saw him next. Those belonged to her.
She moved to the stew, and tried some. It was delicious. The last stew she'd had…
Scabior…
Her mind searched itself, replaying it over and over again in her head.
The glow from the wand tip. Scabior falling.
The glow…
The red glow…
Red…
Hermione stopped mid-bite.
Red.
So, not an Unforgivable curse, then?
She closed her eyes, as doing so helped her remember more accurately.
No, Hermione, he died. He's is your grief talking.
It could have been a fatal curse, regardless of the colour.
She took a bite, then another, drinking the tea, making a mental note to speak with Draco.
She was surprised how well she was handling it. But perhaps this was shock. She was in shock. How could she not be after everything that happened?
It was her brain, trying desperately to cling to logic when there was none to be found.
She had watched him die.
He was dead.
He was gone.
Wasn't he?
Hermione followed with a bite of the trifle. It was incredible.
She finished eating and strode to the armoire, flinging it open with purpose. She selected black robes, casual robes which hung off her frame. She found a thin piece of fabric she tied around her waist as a belt. Better.
'Are these Narcissa's?' she thought to herself. Lady Malfoy was a woman of impeccable taste. She never had a hair out of place. It seemed odd that she would have a plain garment such as this in the Manor. Perhaps they belonged to someone else…
"Miss is done eating?,"
Winky's voice startled Hermione and she turned to face the little elf.
"I am. Is he ready for me?", she asked, defiantly jutting her chin, and then, remembering the elf, softening her demeanour.
"Yess, Miss.", Winky replied, moving to the door and holding it open.