𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍-𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙

Chapter 7

Lucius's eyes were abruptly pulled from her as he looked around the room, gaze landing on the bookshelves, the sitting area. He paused on the bed, sheets twisted from her sleep. His grey eyes snapped to her again.

His lips pulled up into an echo of a smirk. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Miss Granger."

She felt her heartbeat pressing into the gauzy curtains, her fingers curled. He stood between herself and the door. And if there was a way onto this balcony, how quickly could she sprint out and hurtle over the edge. Grass or stones below?

He tilted his head, examining her, waiting for a response that didn't come. His eyes flicked over her satin pajamas, over the rumpled bedding.

"I see you've made yourself quite at home."

He moved into the room, strolling between the wingback chairs, examining the carpets, moving to the drapes.

Where Narcissa was cautious and warm, Lucius was decisive and cold, inscrutable. He slithered into the sleeping space, eyes turning over the bed curtains and landing on the wardrobe, still open from her investigations. He pulled the doors open wide and just like his wife, an impossible expression spread across his lips. She'd never seen someone frown a smile.

"All the correct size, I presume," he muttered.

Hermione guessed that Lucius Malfoy was not the kind of man who muttered things aloud by accident.

He shut the wardrobe with a click. And turned to her, standing between her and the bed. The comb teeth clicked between her fingertips.

"Sixty-five thousand Galleons," he said, drawing the number out like a question. But she knew it wasn't. "My, my, Miss Granger. What a handsome prize you make."

He wanted her to interact with him. She swallowed her terror, and decided to play his game. "Were you in attendance last night, Mr. Malfoy?"

He pulled a deep breath through his nostrils, the hint of a sneer on his lips. "I have no interest in slave-trading. I have enough house elves." He clasped his hands behind his back and looked out the window at the view she had been enjoying.

She remembered strong arms, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her, taking her somewhere. If Lucius hadn't been there, it had been Draco. Where would he have taken her?

And why did he want her in the first place? And how had he obtained her?

She looked up from the thoughtful gaze she had been sending the carpets to find Lucius Malfoy still before her, watching her. His eyes swept over her body, and she shivered, glad to be rid of the gold dress and in sexless nightclothes.

"How do you like your accommodations, Miss Granger?" His eyes pierced her, his words digging into her skin.

She wondered if he wanted her to misbehave. If he wanted her to spit at him and tell him she'd prefer a cell. To act like a Mudblood beast. She looked into his grey eyes, the same grey eyes that had sneered at her for seven years.

She may be under Narcissa Malfoy's protection, but she was also under Lucius Malfoy's roof.

"It's lovely, Mr. Malfoy," she responded icily. "Thank you for having me for a visit." She lifted a brow at him.

He returned the expression, a slow curl to his lips. "Any time, Miss Granger. The weather is lovely in the autumn," he said, voice lilting, teasing. A pause, and then his features hardened. "I do hope you'll still be here then."

A chill crossed her skin, but she was careful not to blink. She burned to ask him questions. Why am I here? Why did Dolohov give me up? What am I expected to do? But she knew she wouldn't get the answers she wanted. Just more games.