| Twenty-eight

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28

N O

P L A C E

L I K E

H O M E

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"WE'RE HOPING THAT BY STAYING HERE, we can establish a place for diverging Death Eaters to stay until Dumbledore can convince Longbottom that you're the only one who can help him." Pansy shifts in her seat, sliding her hand over to Blaise, who takes it in his own.

"But I'm not the only one. Draco is just as skilled as I am, if not more -"

"- Draco has another task. He will not be fighting. It will be your duty to give your life, if necessary."

Narcissa sets the silver tray down, showcasing tea cups for all, as well as biscuits.

Hermione wants to press her further, but Pansy overtakes the conversation.

"So, we heard something, Mi," she says shyly. "Well, uh, I don't mean to be rude, but Peter kind of told everyone that he, well that he believes you're. . . A Mudblood. Is it. . . Is it true?"

There's no point in lying, so she nods.

"Tom must've wiped my memory of my past, but while I was snooping in Peter's house, I came across a news article. It was for a Muggle newspaper. Two Muggles who died some months ago in an accident, but they both had my last name. I believe they were my parents." She sinks in her chair, suddenly wanting to disappear completely.

The others look amongst each other before offering her apologies, but she doesn't want it.

"I didn't actually know them, not truly. Besides, they're much happier than anyone in this world." Hermione finishes her tea and stands. "Is there a place I can rest for a bit?"

Narcissa smiles.

"Of course. I'd imagine you wouldn't feel too hot. Pansy will show you to your room."

The women head upstairs, flight after flight until they stop in front of the room second from the top.

"Whose room is that?"

Pansy glances at the door at the very top of the stairs before staring back at Hermione.

"Draco's."

Pansy pushes open the door to Hermione's room. It's musty inside, probably from the antique furniture lining nearly every square inch of the room. There stands a giant, four poster bed, several small tables, a wardrobe, a vanity, and everything is packed to the brim with clothing, brushes, perfumes, jewelry.

Hermione looks at Pansy.

"Is this necessary?" She almost laughs.

"Well, after Lucius died and Narcissa faked her own death, she had to move everything somewhere. So all the goods of the Manor are here or sold to keep her from starving." She stares at her cuts in the vanity mirror.

Hermione looks through the wardrobe as Pansy shows herself out. She finds a simple set of silk shorts with a matching tank top, because everything else seems to only get skimpier.

What exactly is Narcissa doing with so much lingerie -

She laughs to herself as she quickly changes and slips into bed. She snuggles under the blankets for warmth, and eventually falls asleep.

Unsure of what time it is when she is woken by a thud above her. She yawns and climbs out of bed. With her wand lit, she climbs the last staircase to stand in front of the room that is supposed to be Draco's.

"Nox," she whispers, engulfing herself in darkness. She knocks on the door, and soon the handle turns.

On the other side of the threshold lays a room lively with the light of a rising morning sun. It filters through and casts a glow on Draco, who stands before her like a beacon of hope.

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