Exhaustion was the only thing Hermione could feel. When she first arrived at Malfoy Manor with Voldemort, she did not think about what it truly meant to be here. But when night fell, she realised she had to actually sleep here. As in, fall asleep and be out for several hours. Vulnerable, undefended.
With the Dark Lord right next door.
While she found some solace in the discovery that she was allowed to use her wand and was able to use magic here, she knew very well that all the protection spells in the world would not save her should any of the other residents truly wish her harm. She still spent hours warding her room, but it did not alleviate her anxiety in the slightest.
It did not help that whenever she closed her eyes, that scene from earlier in the day kept replaying.
She had found a small victory in it, using "my lord" to address him and feeling his reaction to that. It was a deliberate attempt to regain some semblance of control. But the matter of the fact still was that she turned into a needy mess under his magical touch. And that he still was in control, regardless of any bits she claimed for herself.
Only when the sky already started turning grey in the early morning hours did she finally fall asleep. And now, after just a couple of hours sleep, she sat in her bed, feeling the exhaustion deep in her bones. It did not bode well for the future. How was she supposed to survive here when she lost all her strength to lack of sleep?
With a sigh, she left the bed. It was still early in the morning and she had no idea where the Malfoys or the Lestranges currently were. Worse, she didn't know whether Voldemort was still next door. She couldn't help it. The anxiety crept up again.
Nervously, she tried the door opposite of Voldemort's. To her relief, she found a small bathroom behind it. At least she would not have to awkwardly share the toilet with him, or worse, any of the Malfoys. She quickly washed up and dressed, before turning to finally face the reality of the day.
All her wards were still active. While she was certain that most people in this house would be able to break through, she doubted that anyone could completely replicate her spellwork to cover up a break. This meant, hopefully, that nobody attempted to get to her. At least this night. Small mercies.
She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. Voldemort might have teased her yesterday about her inability to figure out what he wanted with her, but that did not mean that she would give up. As long as she breathed, she would not stop trying to find a way to rid the world of him. She was his prisoner, but she would make him rue the day he took her.
Determined to make the most out of the day, she took several deep long breaths to settle into a body can meditation. A clear mind and calm nerves would be her best assets.
Her calm nerves lasted exactly as long as it took her to navigate her way down to the breakfast room. She came by Narcissa Malfoy on her way there, who simply gave her a curt nod. It was a frosty affair, but it didn't rattle her.
What did rattle her was the sole occupant of the breakfast room, sitting at the table and reading the Daily Prophet as though he belonged there.
"Snape." The name left her mouth before she could control herself.
The moment he turned to look at her, she flinched. There he was, the great traitor. The man Dumbledore always trusted and who, in the end, proved to be their worst enemy. Enjoying the rich breakfast provided by the Malfoy's house elves. Drinking black coffee as though he had any right to even be alive.
"Miss Granger." His dark eyes did not betray any emotion, but she could hear in his tone that he was as shocked to find her here as she was to see him.
"What are you doing here?" Trying to appear more confident than she felt, she barked out the question while settling in a chair at the far end of the table.
With measured movements, he folded the newspaper and sat it aside. "I usually take my breakfast here. Which should be no surprise. Your presence, on the other hand, needs explaining."
Hermione's gaze travelled over the table, trying to take in what was available and what she wanted to eat, but in truth, she felt a knot in her throat by the mere presence of Snape. She wanted him gone. She wanted to kill him. Though she was not deluded enough to think she stood even the slightest chance of besting him.
"It would appear that I am a guest of this house," she replied, still not looking at him.
"A … guest." Again, she was surprised to actually hear the shock in his voice. "And to whom do you owe this … pleasure?"
She snorted. "There is only one person who would make the Malfoys accept someone like me as a valued guest."
She got no answer to that. Deciding that she would not be intimidated by him any longer, she shovelled eggs, tomatoes, and bacon onto her plate before helping herself to a cup of tea. She still felt rather like throwing up than eating, but her mind told her that she needed to eat. Anything to drive away the exhaustion was a must.
Silence resonated through the room, oppressing the already dark atmosphere even more. The sun was shining through the east facing windows and bathing the room in a golden light, but the dark wood of the floor and furniture coupled with the stifling silence and empty seats at the table were enough to make Hermione's hairs stand on end.
With difficulty, she took a sip from the black tea and tried to focus only on the way it felt as the hot liquid ran down her throat, spreading its warmth slowly through her body. But even the nice cup of tea was not enough to drive away the chill she felt.
Finally, she turned her head and looked at Snape. She was surprised to find his black eyes fixed on her, arms crossed in front of his chest, studying her closely without blinking.
She swallowed hard. "What?"
"I was not aware of this … turn of events."
Hermione could only roll her eyes. "Oh no, does the Dark Lord's pet feel left out? I'm so sorry to hear that."
"You should watch your tongue around here, Miss Granger. It isn't healthy to mock people like me." He still looked at her, devoid of any emotion, unmoving.
"I apologise if my tone lacked the deference you are used to, professor. I fear you lost any respect I had for you when you killed Headmaster Dumbledore." She put as much venom in her voice as she could. If he was a regular guest for breakfast, she would make sure that he would suffer every single day.
She half expected him to try and curse her now, but instead, he just raised an eyebrow before changing the topic. "What are you really doing here?"
Hermione took a bite out of the bacon and chewed slowly before replying, "I know as much as you do. Which, apparently, is nothing."
"Don't test me," he shot back.
"Don't get angry at Miss Granger, Severus. She truly does not know."
Hermione jumped. She hadn't noticed Voldemort entering, being too focused on Snape and his stupid expressionless face. Blinking, she took in the scene unfolding before her eyes.
Snape immediately got up and bowed before the snake-like man. "My lord, I did not hear you come in."
Voldemort smiled down at him and patted his shoulder. "Sit down, my boy, sit down. Enjoy your breakfast."
Snape remained in the same position for a moment longer, then he nodded and sat back down. It was obvious to her that he now lost his appetite just as she did. Interesting. It seemed that Voldemort's presence was not something that usually happened at breakfast.
"So, I see you discovered Miss Granger is now a resident of this manor. I hope this will not dissuade you from continuing to take your breakfast here?" He sounded nonchalant, almost amused.
He strolled over to her and took the seat right next to her. Of course he would. She hated his presence but she hated even more that she felt better now that he was here. Being alone with Snape definitely was the worse fate.
"Pour me a cup, my sweet, will you?"
Hermione almost choked on her eggs as she heard the familiar address. Snape at the other end of the table seemed to have a similar reaction, as he was trying to mask a cough. Wide eyed, she stared at Voldemort who simply smiled.
"Help yourself. I'm not your house elf," she finally replied. She realised that this was just another powerplay by him. Showing her off as this submissive little pet to someone like Severus Snape. She would not play that game.
Snape's coughing fit instantly ended at that. From the corner of her eyes she could see that he was staring at her with such open shock that it was almost comical. Voldemort on the other hand seemed less surprised.
He simply grinned wolfishly and reached for the teapot. Hermione followed his every movement, suspicious that he might suddenly decide to drown her in boiling hot tea. Instead, she watched as he poured himself a cup. The practiced ease, the total lack of dramatic flourish around it felt surreal to her. How could Voldemort do something as mundane as pour himself a cup of tea?
He took a sip, then sat the cup back on the table and turned to Snape. "You see, Severus, Hermione Granger is my special guest. As such, she enjoys certain privileges. For now."
Her eyes shot back to her former teacher, who seemed to have recovered by now. The impassive mask was back on his face as he methodically cut into his black pudding. Without looking up, he replied, "I'm glad to see we're expanding our circle."
Of course he would say that. Hermione cringed at his words, hating the subtle insult hidden in them. She would have to test how far her freedom to unrestrained actions within the manor actually went. Maybe ambushing and hexing him was allowed.
"Of course that is your reply," Voldemort said at that moment. "Listen to me, Severus. When I say that Miss Granger is my special guest, I expect you to comply. She will not be hurt while under my protection, is that clear? And that includes any verbal assault your sharp tongue might want to dish out."
His words felt like another blow to her confidence. How was she ever to interpret his intent when he so blatantly protected her against his followers? What did he truly want?
Snape looked up from his meal and gave a short nod. "Of course, my lord. I apologise for my words. I will treat Miss Granger with the respect you ask of me."
At that, Voldemort emptied his cup and stood up. "Good. If my sweet little witch has any questions or wants to study anything, help her out and provide her with the material she is asking for. Any material."
Before Snape had a chance to reply, Voldemort strode out of the breakfast room, his dark robes billowing behind him.
Again, silence enveloped the sun-lit breakfast room.
Hermione stared down at her plate. She usually liked a full English, but right now, everything she saw and smelled and tasted made her want to puke. She was trapped in a nightmare with no way out.
"So," Snape drawled after several minutes of uncomfortable silence, "Hermione Granger found herself in the good graces of the Dark Lord. Care to explain?"
She grabbed a piece of buttered toast and stood up. "No. I don't. And as you just heard, you are to watch the way you talk to me. Better remember that the next time we speak."
Then, not giving him any chance to apologise, she stomped out of the room.
What a way to start her new, cursed life.