Vacivitas

Chapter Three

Of course he has. Harry's gone. Ron's somewhere unknown. Hermione's the last piece of the puzzle. She's likely the most wanted witch in the entire United Kingdom. That fills her with a fear so cold it turns her blood to ice. The thought of standing before the Dark Lord, at his mercy while he decides how he wants to kill her...

What if Malfoy brings her to him?

"I won't," he says.

The train that carries her thoughts comes to a screeching halt, nearly derailing. At first, she wants to be alarmed but then her innate desire for knowledge kicks in. Her curiosity. He's a vampire. A magical creature. A species she has yet to study.

"You can hear my thoughts, can't you?"

He watches her from where he sits, his arm bent at the elbow so he can rest his jaw against his palm. She now knows his sleeve hides his tattoos. "I can."

Hermione chews the inside of her cheek, willing her heart to still. It's difficult to reconcile the bullying, full-of-himself prat that was the Malfoy she once knew, with the calculating, enigmatic predator that now sits watching her. What is she to him? Filthy Mudblood, or unwilling prey? Is he going to mock her derisively, or is he going to tell her to run and chase her through the manor?

"Then you know what I'm concerned about," she says.

"I do."

She places her hands behind her back, leaning against the wall with her palms flat. The marble cools her skin, enabling her to maintain a calm demeanor in the face of her trepidation. She doesn't like this–doesn't like feeling afraid of someone she'd never been afraid of before. She doesn't like feeling afraid of anything. But she knows it doesn't matter. Who she used to be, who he used to be...None of it matters.

This is a different time.

"I bought you for a reason," he says coolly, almost as though bored. "But I have no intention of killing you."

"Intention?"

"I can't promise anything." She gulps at that. "What I can promise is that if you follow the rules, this will be as painless as possible."

"Am I meant to—to do this, er...To be this for you forever?"

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"Tomorrow isn't promised, Granger, and I like to live my life day-by-day. Follow the rules, and you'll wake up each morning. I don't think that will be a problem for you, following the rules. Will it?"

She shakes her head from left to right, averting her gaze. "What are the rules?"

"You're free to roam the manor, provided you stay out of my room. You have no curfew, no restrictions, and no punishments. I take breakfast before I leave in the morning, and dinner when I return, however you do not need to adhere to a schedule. You may eat whenever you wish, as long as it's at the table in the dining hall. The Floo is not always closed, but you will never be allowed to use it. Do not try unless you want to be Splinched. If you need something, ask Pinky. If it's something outside of the house, ask me and I'll think about it. When I'm hungry..." He trails off, appearing thoughtful, like he's trying to search for the right words. "You'll know. So when that happens, walk slowly to your room, even if I'm behind you."

These rules are so formal. So specific. So airtight.

She can't possibly be his first.

A chill runs down her spine at the thought of walking slowly to her bedroom while a starving vampire walks behind her. She can almost feel the heat of his breath against her neck now.