Manacled by Senlinyu

Chapter 71

"That is out of the question," Narcissa said in a razor-sharp voice.

Hermione stared in surprise at Narcissa's flashing, enraged eyes. It slowly dawned on her that Narcissa's portrait loved Lucius far more than she loved Draco.

The Narcissa in the portrait wasn't a mother. She was a teenage witch engaged to a wizard who adored her. She might call Draco her son and watch over Hermione, but fundamentally she would always choose Lucius first. She would let Draco die if it protected Lucius from the knowledge of what had happened.

Hermione's shoulders dropped. "Narcissa..."

"She didn't want him to ever know. You don't know what she put herself through to ensure he didn't find out. You thought that potion's withdrawal was difficult after three doses? She took it more than a dozen times—just in order to see him." Narcissa's voice was shaking with angry intensity. "Draco used to beg her not to."

Hermione pressed closer. Her fingers hovering a breath away from the painted canvas. "If she would have left him to protect Draco, she would have told him to try to save Draco."

Narcissa's expression was ice cold as she sat in her chair. "How would Lucius knowing change anything?"

Hermione looked down. "I don't know. I just think that he—"

"If you interfere and things go wrong, everything Draco put himself through to protect you will be for nothing. There are worse things than dying. Anyone in this family can tell you that."

She refused to speak to Hermione further.

Hermione reluctantly turned away and went over to her breakfast tray. The warming spell had worn off, and the porridge was cold and unappetizing.

Hermione considered skipping breakfast, but she needed to regain her weight. She wasn't going to build muscle if she skipped meals.

She sighed and half-heartedly picked up the small pitcher of cream and poured it into the bowl, reaching for the spoon.

As her fingers touched the spoon handle, she felt a sharp jerk behind her navel.

It was like being inverted and shoved through a tube. The bedroom vanished, and she reappeared in midair, falling forward and smacking her head on the floor as her stomach roiled.

She almost vomited, as she gripped her tightly contracted abdomen protectively under one hand and tried to find her bearings. She gave several ragged gasps as she breathed. Everything was swimming and her forehead ached where she'd struck it.

She forced herself shakily up.

Lucius was sitting several feet away, reclined in a spindly chair, teacup in hand.

"Ah. There you are."

Hermione stared at him in blank horror as she took in the remainder of her surroundings. Lucius had portkeyed her across the manor into the drawing room in the South Wing.

He set his teacup down on its saucer and sat forward, eyeing her.

"I have some questions for you, Mudblood."

She shifted back, and her hand stuck slightly to the floor. She pulled it free and then she realised the ground was sticky.

The ground was soaked with drying blood.

The spoon which had brought her lay on the ground a few feet away. Her heart stalled. Her hand darted out, and she tried to grab it.

It vanished just before her fingers reached it.