Embers

So stupid! I thought to myself. How could I have been so stupid? After all we’d been through and survived to be tricked by Draco Malfoy of all people. It was a cruel twist of fate indeed and one I despaired of surviving when it first began. I thought back to that day, replaying the encounter in my mind countless times as if by sheer force of will I could change the outcome.

The Final Battle still raged around us. Despite it all, most days were filled with research and the mundane odds and ends of daily living. At times, no one knew who to trust or what lay in store. I had been in Diagon Alley on an unimportant errand, well not exactly unimportant as I reminded myself. Just not the sort of thing I had hoped to be doing that day. It was then that I saw him, at first merely a glimpse of white-blond hair. No! It can’t be! The figure turned in my direction and I caught a glimpse of his face. My heart raced. It was him! He’d not been seen since that night on the tower at the end of our sixth year. No one had known whether he was alive or dead. He was one of the most wanted wizards. Draco Malfoy.

I followed him as he darted around a corner. He moved slowly, which should have alerted me to something being amiss. Why did I not see that then? He turned once, again almost catching my eyes with his, but quickly looked away as if scanning for anyone who might be following him. I berated myself so many times afterwards for thinking he’d not spotted me and continued to follow him. He ducked into an alleyway. I smiled. I had him. I knew Diagon Alley inside and out, each and every crevice of each and every street. I knew them all like the back of my hand. The alleyway was a dead-end. I had him…or so I thought.

With my wand drawn, I entered the alleyway and cornered one of the most wanted wizards in Britain. He cowered under my wand. His eyes flicked back and forth nervously between my eyes and the tip of my wand, which was aimed squarely in his pale, little ferret-like face. “Out for a little walk, Malfoy?”

Of all the things he could have said at that moment, I never expected to hear the words that came out of his mouth. “Help me.” Two simple words that spoke of second chances and doing the right thing, words that would have evoked sympathy and compassion had they been spoken to Dumbledore. Help is always available to those who ask for it. In the months following Dumbledore’s death, we had all caught ourselves saying those very words so many times. We wanted to believe that his spirit would live on in us. It had to because so much depended on it.

At the time, I had laughed at the wholly unexpected words. “The truth, Malfoy! I want to hear what you’re doing here.”

He shivered though the temperature was not especially cold. “I…I didn’t kill Dumbledore! You know that don’t you?” He had stared into my eyes as he spoke. “I couldn’t do it.”

“I know that already. Harry told us all what happened. I ask you again, what are you doing here, Malfoy?” My wand was still on him. His eyes returned to it again and again.

“I want your help to redeem myself.” His voice had gone calm I now noticed. That detail had eluded me at the time.

“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” I asked him. “I mean, the Ministry has you on their Most Wanted Wizard List. You’ve been on it ever since…”

“I was coerced! There was nothing I could do!” He interrupted me in a pleading tone of voice.

“All year you were coerced? Not once in all the years since you came to Hogwarts did you think to ask for help?”

“You don’t know what they’re like.” He offered by way of explanation. “You don’t know what it’s like to be alone with them…the wrong sort of wizards. I can help you there. I can be a bridge.” He held his hand out to me.

For several long seconds I hesitated as I considered the absurdity of the situation. He smiled nervously and motioned with his eyes to his outstretched hand, encouraging me to take it. I lowered my wand and shifted it to my left hand. With my right hand, I reached out to take Draco’s hand. The moment our hands met, I felt the unmistakable sensation of side along apparation. In that instant, I knew I’d been tricked, but it was already too late.

“Expelliarmus!” A voice I’d not heard for quite some time, but could place immediately, called out.

My wand flew out of my hand and into the outstretched hand of Lucius Malfoy. I stared wordlessly first at the elder Malfoy, then at Draco and finally looked around to see where I’d been taken.

Draco smiled broadly at me. He looked at his father. “I told you I could get her, the little mud blood!” He seemed overly agitated and proud of his accomplishment.

“That will be all, Draco.” Lucius gently admonished his son. “You may take your leave.”

Draco looked at his father as if expecting words of praise. His face seemed to fall slightly when those words didn’t come. He received but a patient smile before looking at me once more. His demeanor changed. He looked almost lecherous. He allowed his eyes to roam over my body in such a manner as to make my hair stand on end. Again, he looked to his father and silently walked away leaving me alone with Lucius Malfoy.

I don’t know how long we stared at each other. I know only that I met his gaze head-on. I did not back down. Finally, he began to speak.

“I trust you know where you are now, Miss Granger.”

It was a statement, not a question. He was toying with me. He motioned to a chair and asked me to sit. He took a seat opposite me. Again silence as he stared at me almost as if appraising a piece of artwork to add to his impressive collection. I guess that’s what he was doing, at least in his mind.

“You will find I can be a most reasonable man, Miss Granger. Your stay here can be pleasant…or not. That is for you to decide”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

Lucius merely laughed. “My dear girl, do you think that’s why you’re here?” He leaned over and caressed my cheek with his fingertips. “I assure you it is not information I desire from you.” His fingertips lingered on my cheek. “Not at all.”

“What then?” I had to ask.

“It’s a simple matter, really. In the absence of my wife, I find myself desirous of female companionship.”

What had happened to Narcissa? Did he know? Narcissa had disappeared at the same time as Draco. Everyone assumed the two had fled together or been killed. Now that I knew Draco was alive and living with his father, the news that Mrs. Malfoy was not with them filled me with dread.

“You are wondering what happened to my dear wife.” Lucius studied me coldly.

“Voldemort killed her?” My voice was stronger than I felt.

Again, he laughed. “No, the Dark Lord did not kill her. I did.” He allowed the words to hang in the air between us. “She left me no choice. She knowingly went against the Dark Lord.” He sighed as though greatly perplexed. He then stared at me. “Can you imagine my horror and shame upon my release from Azkaban to return home and find that my own wife had willingly betrayed everything I have worked for all these years? And for what? To save the life of a pathetic little fool who has failed nearly every task he has ever been given?”

I stared blankly, taking it all in, wondering if any of it would ever be useful to the Order and trying desperately to hold on to the image of a life after this horror had ended.

“Until now,” Lucius continued unabated. “The boy has succeeded in bringing you here.” He stood and walked behind me. His hand grasped a strand of my hair, pushing it aside, baring my neck to him. His lips brushed against the skin of my neck and I tensed. He paid no heed. “Tell me…Hermione…how did he capture you? Has so much of your vaunted intelligence deserted you? Have you become so gullible as to believe a pitiful plea for help, perhaps?” It felt as though he were reading my mind. “That’s it, isn’t it?” He laughed softly in my ear. How I came to hate that laugh! “A plea for help from one who in all the years you knew him spoke not one word of kindness to you? And yet, you gave him your hand.” Lucius moved back in front of me. “I ask only the same of you, Hermione.” He offered his hand to me.

I glared at him. “Well then, if this is only your attempt at a marriage proposal, I’m sorry but I will have to decline. I’d like to return home now.” My body trembled, but I could not tell whether from fear or surprise at my own forthrightness.

A look somewhere between disgust and anger flashed over his pale features. The fingers on his still proffered hand closed as he raised his hand to his shoulder. I knew what was coming, but I didn’t flinch. He struck me across my face, tearing my lip. Immediately, I tasted coppery blood as it trickled into my mouth. “I do not desire you as a wife. You are not worthy to bear the name Malfoy.”

I held a finger to my cut lip. He was suddenly calm once more as though nothing had happened. He waved his wand and quietly uttered a healing spell. He ran his fingers over my healed but still sensitive lips, forcing one briefly just into the wetness. He raised the finger to his face as though to either taste or smell whatever trace of me he imagined to be there. “However, there are a few favors I will require of you. I’m a reasonable man, Hermione. I will not deny you any pleasure that you may derive from our…collaboration. In fact, I daresay you may find it all quite enjoyable.” Abruptly, he turned and called for his son. “Draco! Show Hermione to her room.”

Draco had silently reappeared. He looked first at his father, then at me. “Of course, Father.” He made a small motion with his hand for me to accompany him, “This way, Hermione.”

I rose silently but was careful to look all around me as Draco led me through several hallways of what I assumed was Malfoy Manor. He tapped his wand on a section of the wall, which opened to reveal a small room behind it. He motioned me to enter. “This will be your room, Hermione. The bed is different than the one you’re used to, but I think you’ll find it agreeable.” I did not catch the significance of his words at that moment. Draco continued the tour of the small and sparsely furnished room. A large painting hung on one wall. “The painting will change periodically to give you different views since there are no windows. The mirror over here is unbreakable glass, so don’t try anything foolish.” Draco’s laugh lacked the confidence of his father’s. “The dresser will always have whatever Father wishes you to wear. Be sure to check each time you awaken and dress quickly. Father often complained about…taking too long.” He seemed to drift into a trance-like state, but he snapped quickly out of it and repeated himself, “Just dress quickly. The door can be opened only with a wand from the outside. You will leave this room only at Father’s discretion. Food will be brought to you and you should eat whatever is put before you.” He seemed to be reciting a list of things to say. I could almost see him mentally checking off each item as he spoke it aloud.

I looked around the room. “If I am not to leave this room, is there a toilet?”

The question seemed to embarrass him. He walked over to a corner of the room and pulled back a sheath of fabric. There behind it stood a small rusted pail and beside that a roll of Muggle toilet paper. “Father says this is what Muggles use. I imagine you’re used to this.” On the wall above the rusted pail I saw a familiar photograph. It was a portrait that had hung in the living room in my childhood home. I recognized my parents’ wedding portrait. Draco noticed me staring at it. “I put that there for you.” He smiled. He seemed quite pleased with himself.

Part of me wanted to scream ‘how did you get this?’ Part of me already knew. The reality of the situation began to take hold. “He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”

“The lights will always be on. Do as he says, Hermione, and it will never get dark. Just do as he says.” He turned and walked out of the room leaving me alone with my thoughts.