AN: This chapter definitely has a nod for the Dramione and Deatheatertok communities, iykyk ;)
Voldemort had been pleased with the news of River's success in her training. Bellatrix had painted a very pretty picture for him, regaling him of the full display of cunning and power River had wielded. When Lucius brought her to see him, he was effusive in his praise for her strategic prowess. He saw the girl before him visibly beam at the praise, silently applauding all their efforts to bring her into their fold.
She was his weapon to command. He thought gleefully.
Chapter 13: Reunions
Draco wasn't sure what to expect when he returned to Malfoy Manor, but the sight before him left him momentarily frozen. His mother had said very little as they walked through the halls towards one of the smaller ballrooms, and when she opened the doors, Draco had to school his face and guard it from showing his shock. His mother's voice was distant, drowned out by the rhythmic clash of steel against steel.
His aunt Bellatrix watched as two figures stood at opposite ends of the room, poised in fencing stances, their épées gleaming in the faint light. The first, a tall, lithe man with a dark mask obscuring his face, held his weapon with a practiced grip, eyes narrow and focused. His opponent, a smaller figure clad in a flowing dark jacket, moved with a cat-like grace, their eyes bright with determination.
Without warning, the tall man lunged, his blade flashing towards his opponent's chest. But the smaller figure sidestepped, the edge of their épée deftly knocking his aside with a sharp clang. They riposted immediately, pressing forward with a series of swift, precise thrusts that forced the man back, his feet scraping against the marble as he struggled to regain his footing.
They circled each other, épées clashed in a rapid staccato, the sounds of their blades echoed through the empty room. A quick feint from the smaller duelist sent the man off balance, and with a final, decisive thrust, they pressed their blade to his shoulder, to hold him at bay. The tall man froze, his weapon slack in his hand, and acknowledged the silent victory with a slight nod.
"Brava, brava, sweetheart!" Bellatrix said as she clapped. "This will improve your magical dueling exponentially."
As the smaller figure removed their fencing mask, Draco watched in fascination as River shook her hair loose.
"Ahem." His mother announced their presence. "Look who has returned."
"Draco!" Bellatrix squealed as she slithered towards him while beckoning to River as well. "Now we can have some real fun!"
Draco couldn't imagine why his Aunt would treat River with the affection and fondness he witnessed. Bellatrix was brutal, a force of nature who was not one to shower affection on anyone. He had never seen the woman act this way. He arches a single eyebrow towards River, the question he held conveyed clearly to her: What the fuck happened over the past 6 weeks?
River's POV
What the fuck happened over the past 6 weeks?
Draco's question was written clearly in his eyes, but I schooled my features, giving nothing away. Trust. That word lingered in the back of my mind like a curse. I used to believe I could trust him—when I first told him to find me if he ever truly wanted me. But that was before Bellatrix… before I learned what it meant to survive in this world. Now, standing in the manor where loyalty shifted like shadows, I wasn't sure if I could trust anyone. Least of all Draco.
"I'm sure River would like a chance to rest after training before dinner this evening, why don't you help Draco get settled in before then?" Narcissa replies coolly.
I look at her and see a small smirk threatening to pull upwards on her face. The words play nice, read in her eyes.
"Shall we?" Draco says as he motions for me to follow him out. I feel Bellatrix pushing me as well, and I take steady steps to leave the ballroom.
I leave thoughts of how we are "the perfect pure-blood couple… How striking they are together…" in our wake.
Draco doesn't say anything to me as we walk through the halls, the ones he has grown up navigating. The portraits all whisper as we walk past them, and I am sure that is why the silence hangs over us… the walls have eyes and ears and we are not safe here.
Some things you can't change
You're preaching to the choir
After a few minutes we come to a door several feet down from the one for my room, and Draco slowly opens it, motioning for me to step inside.
The sconces flickered to life as I stepped into the room, the sudden brightness momentarily disorienting. I barely had time to steady myself before Draco's hand caught my arm, pulling me back toward the door. His movements were sharp, precise—a reflection of the control he was trying hard to maintain. He caged me in with a swift movement, pinning me against the wood, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes: anger, frustration... fear. But not of me. Fear of something else entirely.
The familiar icy presence slithers up my legs, coiling around my body all the way to my throat. Except this time, I know what this feeling means and how to keep it from slithering inside my mind.
Knives in the back ready to attack
Knives in the back
"That won't work anymore. Bellatrix made sure my mental defenses are stronger." I say calmly.
Draco's eyes narrow and I smile up at him. He leans in, his voice low and barely controlled. "You've changed."
I am unfazed by his wary aggression. "That's the idea."
He smirks, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—perhaps regret, or frustration. "My aunt's influence suits you. But you're different. Colder."
A shadow of a smile tries to pull at my lips and I bite my lip to avoid it showing. "You don't survive her methods by being soft."
I study him with a calculating gaze. "I could say the same about you, though. I didn't expect to be greeted with such…warmth."
I am poking a sleeping dragon, I know this. But the heat of his gaze and the familiar cooling presence of his mind leave me feeling like I am in a minefield of emotions. One wrong step and I'll feel heat for entirely different reasons.
He shrugs, his face guarded. "Had to see if you're still… you." He hesitates, then adds, "Or what they left of you."
My eyes harden at his words. "I'm still me, Draco. Just a version that knows better than to trust blindly."
I duck under his arm, no longer allowing him to cage me in and move away from his reach. "Do you know who you trust?"
He clenches his jaw, eyes narrowing. "Don't question my loyalty."
We all got vices
We all got choices to make
It's hard to stay and hard to walk away
I cross my arms. His irritation at my implication raising my hackles in frustration. He hadn't been honest with me from the beginning. Even with him standing here in front of me, I can't tell whether his feelings were more than completing a task he had been given, or genuine. "Loyalty to whom? That's the real question, isn't it? You lied to me."
His jaw ticks, his anger at my accusation evident. "I never lied to you."
"No, you just conveniently omitted what wouldn't serve your goal." I challenge him.
He steps towards me, toe to toe, barely a breath exists between us. "Is that what you think?" He asks as he looks down to challenge me back.
My heart races and the heat inside me pools into each nerve ending. This is far from the distance Draco kept me at most of our time at Hogwarts. It ignites the memories of the dance we shared in the Room of Requirement months ago. But even then Draco held himself back when it felt like he would kiss me. This is as close as we have come back to that moment. "What have you shown me that says otherwise?"
"This."
I barely have time to register what is happening before Draco's hands are grabbing the sides of my face and his lips capture mine in a kiss. There is no tenderness, no soft pressure…this kiss is firewhiskey and gasoline. It's brutal, seering, and leaves me dizzy.
His teeth nip at my lower lip, and I can feel the sting of my skin being pierced. As I open mine to create some space, he uses this to deepen the kiss and my hands come up and knot themselves into the back of Draco's jacket.
If it doesn't hurt at all
Then it doesn't mean a thing
I never knew that I
Could feel this way
I pull back from Draco to catch my breath, his lips following after me and barely giving me time to recover before they are all consuming again. Everything about this kiss makes me feel alive. But there is also a nagging feeling in the back of my mind.
I pull back slightly and ask my question before Draco can overwhelm me with another kiss. "Why didn't you tell me?" It's not a question about his task, it's about the feelings he is conveying in that kiss.
Draco pauses in the kiss, his eyes closing, a sigh of resignation falling from him as he leans his forehead against mine. "I knew…the minute you found out…you would question what was real."
"I still don't know what is real."
"This…this is real." Draco says as he pulls my hand to his chest over his heart.
His heart beat rapidly beneath my fingers, solid and grounding. For the first time, the wall between us seems to crack, the truth of his words vibrating through me like a shockwave. But still… it wasn't enough. Not yet. "Then show me," I whispered, my voice trembling.
Draco pauses, and I know I am asking a lot of him. It's the same request I made when we danced. He's hesitant, and for good reason. I've been here for weeks, and he's walking back into a den of lies and manipulation.
Again, Draco's forehead leans down onto mine. "Let me get my bearings." He says as his hand threads into my hair roughly, as if he is trying to anchor himself in this moment.
"Okay."
If it doesn't hurt at all
There's nothing left to save
'Cause holding on to hope is
A different kind of pain
Draco spent the next few weeks observing the dynamics in Malfoy Manor. The first dinner had been an eye opening one. It was almost a formal affair, with the Dark Lord presiding over the head of the table. Draco's success at Hogwarts this year had been lauded, with the subtext of his ability to cultivate a rapport with River being central to his success. But every compliment or command is a weapon, meant to pit them against each other, to breed suspicion and rivalry. The tension at Malfoy Manor is suffocating, with every meal, every conversation, a power play.
It was sickening, how the old man looked at him and River, his perfect specimens to play with. But Draco hid his disgust, he knew that despite appearances of the charismatic man in front of him now, there were threats behind every one of his words. This was the man who spoke of honor in taking the dark mark, yet in the next breath threatened his family if he failed in his task. Draco had seen plenty of people fall at his hands last summer, and even more devoured by his beloved python. Nagini still caused Draco to always check if something brushed past his feet. No, Voldemort, cared about no one, not even the 'weapons' that he so clearly thought he brought to his side.
Bellatrix, on the other hand, made no effort to conceal her dangerous energy. Draco watched her closely and saw that her madness isn't just in her words or wild laughter—it's in the way she thrived on the chaos she created. She delighted in telling everyone about River's progress, how she would constantly push the girl harder, often harder than Draco is comfortable with. Bellatrix takes pride in what River is becoming under her instruction, and her possessiveness over River unnerves Draco. There's a volatile edge to her now, as if the thought of anyone but her or her Lord controlling River makes her even more dangerous. To make her stake even more undisputable she had gone and named River the heir to the Lestrange line. It was a bold move, but Bellatrix wanted to consolidate the Black and Lestrange lines "when the Dark Lord succeeds," and River was the only one in the position to make that plausible.
Draco would have expected some type of protest from Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, but both men knew their place and did not question what Bellatrix had declared. They are almost shadows in the house in terms of importance, but Draco is keenly aware of their presence. Rodolphus is stoic and calculating, content to remain in the background, but there's an unmistakable menace to his silence. He observes everything, rarely engaging directly, but Draco can feel his eyes following him and River throughout the manor. Rodolphus is harder to predict, his loyalty clearly belonging to Bellatrix, and by extension, the Dark Lord. Draco knows he must tread carefully around him.
Rabastan, on the other hand, is more vocal but no less dangerous. He makes cryptic remarks, often hinting at the Dark Lord's plans for Draco and River. He's more unpredictable than his brother, prone to sudden bursts of aggression masked as humor, and Draco realizes that he, too, is testing River's limits, perhaps even looking for weaknesses to exploit in order to usurp her as heir. The brothers' loyalty is not to the Malfoys, but to their own survival, and Draco is keenly aware that they're watching for any sign of failure.
Snape would occasionally join them for dinners as well. His godfather remained elusive and cold like he had been at Hogwarts, but Draco noticed an occasional glance in River or Narcissa's direction that led him to believe there was more to him that Draco perceived. Snape never stuck around long enough for Draco to try and question him, but something nagged at him that he made it a point to try and uncover.
Lucius was also searching for any sign of failure, but it was to protect himself, not Draco and not Narcissa. Underneath the civil facade Draco carried, he hated his father, hated what he had done to him and his mother. His parents were cordial, at best, and he imagined that if there had ever been any love between the two had long since evaporated when he let this madman into their home or when he had given up his son as a lamb to the slaughter, a sacrifice to the Dark Lord. Lucius had narrowly avoided more severe punishment for his failure at the Department of Mysteries, and he knew he was treading on thin ice. Draco's success was a reflection of the family though, and Draco can't help but wonder if her father would be less secure in his standing had there been a different outcome.
His mother is harder for Draco to read. Narcissa remains as poised as ever, her every movement measured and graceful, but Draco knows his mother well enough to catch the fleeting moments of worry in her eyes, or the smallest of gestures. She keeps her mask firmly in place, especially in front of Bellatrix and the Lestranges, but when it's just River or Draco, he can sense her familial protectiveness intensifying. Every now and then, he catches her looking at him with a silent plea—don't lose yourself in this.
And River…she had transformed in the weeks that she had been here, and the subsequent ones after. Bellatrix pushed both of them to breaking points with her tutelage. What was interesting though is that it was measured…never dark enough to truly scare her away. They wanted to lure her in slowly, afraid to push River too far into the Darkness without being sure she wouldn't turn away. There were no prisoners at Malfoy Manor, the Dark Lord would leave to deal with things like that, and Draco wondered when they would stop the facade that everyone in this house wouldn't be expected to commit unforgivable acts. Bellatrix was already using the Cruciatus Curse on both of them unexpectedly, to "harden them." It was only a matter of time before they would be asked to do much worse. But River's adaptability was proving quite intriguing…and harder for him to resist.
River's POV
Eight weeks since Draco arrived home passed much the same way they had before. Except now I felt them testing our breaking points and toeing the edge of them, waiting for us to tip over the proverbial edge. There was a comfort in Draco's presence, in going through it together, but there had been no more heated kisses between them since that first night. Everything was a carefully constructed facade, and that coupled with the torture we endured was wearing on my mind and spirit.
As I descend the stairs and walk into the dinning room, a chill settles on my skin as I catch a familiar stench. Greyback is standing on the other side of the room, talking with Rabastan. My feet stop just short of the table, and I see the look in Greyback's eyes as they find mine. You will bleed for me.
A cool hand rests on the exposed part of my back, and I know that Draco can feel the gooseflesh that has sprung up on my skin. Breath. His voice echoes in my mind.
"Let us be seated." Narcissa says as everyone moves to take their seats.
Lucius took his place at the head of the table, directly opposite Narcissa, whose pale fingers brushed the edge of her wine glass. The absence of Voldemort cast an eerie stillness over the room, but his shadow remained, lingering in every unspoken word and every stolen glance. That leaves myself, Draco, Bellatrix on his other side, while Rabastan, Rodolphus, and Greyback are opposite us.
Rabastan's eyes glint in the low candlelight as he leans toward Greyback, his voice a whisper that barely reaches my ears. Whatever he said made the werewolf chuckle darkly, the sound more growl than laughter. It was the kind of sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I grip my fork tighter, trying to ignore the heat of Greyback's gaze as it lingers, predatory and unyielding.
The dining room had never felt so suffocating. The walls, lined with the portraits of the Malfoy ancestors, seemed to close in around us, their eyes watching the scene with dispassionate judgment. The long table stretched out before me, covered in fine silverware and goblets, all gleaming under the dim light of the chandelier overhead. It looked like a scene from a twisted, dark fairy tale.
Draco's fingers barely grazed my knee under the table, a touch so faint it sent a ripple through me, tethering me to the moment. I could feel his tension as if it were my own, the storm brewing behind his composed facade. Even Narcissa, the perfect image of calm elegance, couldn't completely mask the flicker of concern in her eyes as she cast a quick glance toward Greyback and Rabastan.
"Such a lovely gathering," Bellatrix cooed, her voice dripping with false warmth. "It feels almost… familial, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does." Lucius says as he takes a sip of his wine casually.
"Snatchers are rounding up more of the filth every day. They say Hogwarts will fall by winter." Bellatrix had looked at me then, her smile wide and wild. "And when that happens, my little River, you'll be ready to take your place beside him."
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Lucius visibly stiffening before he rights himself. The movement is not lost on Bellatrix though, it was the opening she seemed to be waiting for.
"Lucius….You look tired." Bellatrix probes. "How exactly are you spending your days now?"
I do not glance at Lucius, but feel the air becoming thick. Bellatrix and Lucius have been more on edge with each other lately, each disapproving of how the other chooses to serve their Dark Lord.
"We all serve in our own ways, Bellatrix," he replied smoothly, though his tone had more bite than usual.
Bellatrix's voice dripped with venom as she asked, "Does it bother you, Lucius, being an errand boy?"
Lucius's lips curled into a thin smile, but his knuckles whitened on his goblet. "So long as I'm not the one left holding the bag, why would it bother me?" he replied icily. "Actually, I dropped something off in the Lestrange Vault not that long ago."
Narcissa's soft voice cut through the tension like a blade. "We've all had a long day," she said, her tone smooth and calm. "Perhaps we should focus on enjoying our meal."
I glanced at her, seeing the brief flicker of relief in her eyes as she tried to steer the evening away from conflict.
Unfortunately, Greyback didn't seem intent on hearing the hostess' words. Greyback leaned forward, his yellowed teeth flashing in a cruel grin. "She's looking stronger these days, isn't she, Bella?" he growled, his gaze locking onto mine. "More… ripe."
The challenge was clear, but I didn't look away and meet his glare with one of my own. "You certainly smell ripe. How's your arm by the way?" I say evenly, my voice calm but with an edge to it.
Bellatrix's laugh rang out, high and wild. "Oh, how delightful," she purred, leaning back in her chair as she watched the exchange with bright, gleaming eyes. "Do you hear that, Fenrir? Our little River is learning. Isn't it marvelous?"
Greyback's eyes darkened, but he didn't respond, his fingers twitching on his right arm slightly as he gripped his knife, as if testing how it was healing. For a moment, I wonder if he would strike, but I don't flinch. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Across the table, Rodolphus was watching, a flicker of amusement dancing across his face. "Careful, Greyback," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "She's got sharper teeth than you realize."
Lucius cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Let's not get carried away," he said coldly. "We are all here to serve the same purpose."
But Bellatrix wasn't done. She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Lucius with a dangerous glint. "Ah, yes. The noble Lucius Malfoy, ever the voice of reason. Tell me, brother-in-law, how does it feel to sit here while the rest of us move forward, while you remain in the shadows? Watching as others—like our dear River—are prepared for greatness?"
Lucius said nothing, his eyes narrowing as the insult landed. The room was heavy with tension now, the kind that made it hard to breathe. I could feel Draco shifting beside me, his discomfort palpable.
I leaned back in my chair, letting the moment settle around me. Everyone at this table was playing a dangerous game. While the veiled threats and machinations would have bothered me when I was back at Hogwarts, I had grown beyond the scared little girl that Pucey and his minions had preyed upon. Now, I felt how my magic coiled around me without threatening to lash out.
Thankfully, the rest of the meal passed in tense silence, each word carrying the weight of the power plays at the table. Lucius remained silent, his cold fury simmering beneath the surface, while Greyback and Rabastan kept their distance, their usual snide remarks tempered by my defiance.
When the meal finally ended, I felt the weight of the evening pressing down on me. I excused myself and left the room. Draco's gaze followed me, burning into my back, and though I couldn't help the slight thrill of knowing I had his approval, it was a twisted comfort…like a poisonous flower blooming in the pit of my stomach. It sent a shiver up my spine that reminded me of the kiss we shared.
That kiss… the memory of it still sears into my brain, the taste still fresh on my tongue. As I approach the door to my room, I steal a fleeting glance up the hallway. Draco lingers by his door, his hand poised to push it open, yet hesitating.
Won't you show me what it's like? The thought escapes my mind before I even realize it, the wine clearly making it harder for me to hold my own mental shield in place.
Draco's eyes snap to me, and the next thing I know he is shoving me forcefully into my room and following. Draco slammed the door behind him, his breath ragged, as if he'd been holding it in for weeks. His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides, his entire body coiled so tight I thought he might shatter.
Oh, and my love
Did I mistake you for a sign from God?
Or are you really here to cut me off?
When his eyes finally lifted from the floor to meet mine, the cold gray I was used to had melted into molten silver—hot, intense, and ready to devour me. His jaw ticked as if he was fighting something bigger than both of us.
"Draco." I whispered, my voice trembling as if the air had been forced from my lungs, a plea I hadn't meant to make.
Or maybe just to turn me on
His name is the undoing. Draco closed the distance between us in two swift strides, his hand cupping my face with a roughness that sent sparks down my spine. The moment his lips crashed into mine, it was like unleashing the storm we'd both been holding back—ferocious, hungry, and unstoppable.
I responded in kind, my hands fisting into his shirt as if anchoring myself to something real, something human, despite the darkness swirling around us. The kiss was searing, all teeth and desperation.
I would be lying if I told you that
I didn't wish that I could be your man
Or maybe make a good girl bad
He pulled away first, gasping for breath as reality crashed down around us. His forehead pressed against mine, his grip on my waist so tight I feared I'd crumble if he let go.
"Let go." I whispered, more to myself than him, the words trembling in the space between us.
His forehead remained pressed to mine, the warmth of him so close it made my skin burn, but it was the way his grip tightened on my waist that kept me grounded. Kept me from losing myself entirely in the heat between us.
"I don't want to fight this anymore." All that's left is the raw truth of his words.
His hand slid from my waist, tracing a path up my spine until it rested at the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as if he couldn't bear the thought of letting go.
I've got a river running right into you
I've got a blood trail, red in the blue
That's when I feel it… feel everything that he had held back, everything that had been walled up, everything hidden in the depths of ice, break free and shatter me. It swirls around me in salient memories and all encompassing feelings. Every memory…what he felt the night I arrived at Hogwarts, how he held himself back, trying to think of me as just part of his task, how he tried to deny what he felt, and finally when he realized he couldn't do it any longer…I'd raze everything in my path before I let anyone touch her.
I get lost in the sensation of Draco's hands touching me anywhere they can, pushing me backwards until my back hits the wall beside the fireplace. It's too much and not enough. Both of our hands are grabbing at any piece of clothing that stands between us, ripping them away from the other. Even when we are fully divested of our clothes there is still too much space between us.
You've got my body, flesh and bone
One of my legs hitches up around his hip, trying to draw him even closer. I feel the evidence of Draco's desire pressing into my thigh, and he groans as I shift to better align our bodies.
"River…" He grits through his teeth as they snag on my lower lip. "If you don't tell me to stop…"
I shake my head before my lips find him again. "Don't stop." I say as I pull away momentarily.
He doesn't need to be told again, he just reaches down to test how wet I am, how ready I am. His fingers dance around my clit, plucking at me like I am a string instrument. After a few minutes of this I feel my muscles spasming as I fight to stay standing.
"So responsive." His other hand untangles itself from my hair and comes to palm and grab my breast. I keen and moan at the sensation it drives through my body and it spurs him on. He moves my leg off his hip so that both my feet touch the ground, before he lowers his head to suck and nip at the breast currently not occupied in his hand.
"Draco…" I moan as the fingers plucking at my clit speed up and then dip into my wet cunt.
"Come for me." Draco says before switching the position of his hand and mouth.
Every muscle below my navel seizes and I feel my walls clenching around his fingers as my orgasm flushes over my body and the music of Draco's mind carries me away. I cry out as it crests, and my legs can barely keep me upright.
"Good girl." Draco says as he stands back up and draws my leg back up around his hip. Again, his cock is just off the mark from where it needs to be.
"Draco…Fuck me." I say desperately as our lips fight for dominance.
He takes hold of the base of his cock before he pushes forward in one quick motion. I cry out as he slams in, and I see the moment he realizes what would have caused that pain.
"Shit… River." Draco says between panting breaths, not moving an inch to allow me to acclimate.
"Don't…" I say as the pain ebbs and eases as my body adjusts. "Don't stop."
"But…"
"I said don't stop." I say as I roll my hips into him and a jolt of pleasure flashes across his face.
"Fuck…" Draco groans before one of his hands frantically reaches down to hike up my thigh. After he's got one secure, I use the mantle to my right as leverage and raise my other around his other side, locking my feet behind him, as my arms then scramble to find purchase around his shoulders as he starts to pump in and out of me.
It's not gentle, it's vicious, punishing; a meeting of our bodies like a meeting of our minds. Every fiber of me calls out for more…
"Say it." Draco grounds out, his body beginning to take on a frantic pace.
I don't even question what he means, his silent question so easy to read in his eyes. Tell me your mine. "I'm yours."
He devours me, body and soul, and it's a taste of the divine. My mind dances into sweet oblivion as I orgasm again shortly before Draco.
…Downstairs…
The heavy doors of Malfoy Manor groaned open, revealing two Snatchers dragging Hermione into the grand hall. Her wrists were bound, and she stumbled on the cold marble floor, but her eyes remained defiant. The twisted faces of the Snatchers smirked with pride, clearly pleased with their catch.
In the dining room, enjoying their after dinner drinks, are Greyback, Lucius, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus. At the commotion in the receiving hall, they all rose from their seats.
"What is the meaning of this?" Narcissa asks as she quickly comes down from the grand staircase.
"Boss, we caught this one for ya." One of the snatchers says as they throw Hermione to the ground between the two groups.
"Really, Fenrir, bringing this here?" Lucius questions, clearly perturbed at the scene in front of him.
Greyback pays Lucius no mind. "Well, well," Greyback growled, taking a step toward Hermione. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little mudblood tonight."
Hermione kept her chin up, refusing to shrink under his gaze. Greyback sniffed the air, moving closer, but before he could reach her, Narcissa Malfoy's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"Enough!" Narcissa shouted, her expression cold and unyielding. She stepped between Greyback and Hermione, her gaze unwavering as she turned to Lucius. "This is our home, Lucius, not some den for beasts. The Dark Lord will decide her fate, not him." She flicked a disdainful glance at Greyback, who let out a low growl.
Greyback narrowed his eyes but backed off, though his teeth remained bared in frustration. "I only meant to have a little fun," he muttered darkly.
Narcissa's gaze remained steady, unafraid. "Fun is not the priority here."
Before anyone could respond, another voice filled the hall—high-pitched and gleeful, dripping with malice.
"A better idea, Cissy." Bellatrix Lestrange appeared from the shadows, twirling her wand between her fingers, her eyes alight with dangerous excitement. She sauntered toward them, her mad grin widening as she looked from Hermione to Narcissa. "I think the mudblood deserves a special welcome. Don't you?"
Narcissa's lips pressed into a thin line, but Bellatrix continued without waiting for an answer. She turned to Lucius with a wild glint in her eyes. "Call for River. I want to see what her training has yielded."
Narcissa looked sharply at her sister. Her gaze flickered to Hermione for the briefest moment, then back to Bellatrix. "Are you sure that's wise, Bella? The Dark Lord—"
"—will appreciate the demonstration," Bellatrix interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "River's been practicing, hasn't she? And what better target for her to hone her skills than this filthy mudblood?"
Hermione's heart pounded, but she remained resolute, her eyes darting from Narcissa to Bellatrix.
Narcissa's expression wavered, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features as she turned to her sister. "Bella, this—"
"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, Cissy!" Bellatrix cackled. "I know you've grown soft since you had your precious little boy, but we're at war! Let River prove herself, and let's see what she can do."
Lucius glanced at Narcissa, who remained silent, her face pale but unreadable. He sighed and gave a curt nod. "Fetch River."
The room grew colder as Bellatrix's laughter filled the air. "Oh, this will be fun, won't it?" she cooed, leaning toward Hermione, her eyes alight with sadistic glee. "Let's see what secrets you're hiding, mudblood. My River will tear them from you piece by piece."
AN: This story has been slow burn, but I really hope this chapter was worth the wait. And yes, I am purposefully alluding to this was River's first time. With everything that she had been through with the Academy/ Hogwarts, I almost saw her not wanting to make a big deal out of it, as she has had to grow up/ be wise beyond her years for so long. We will revisit that line of thought a little later though in a way I thought was true to the character in this story.
Please let me know what you think in the comments! Do you all want more spicy scenes?