Manacled

68

Hermione stared wide-eyed as the silhouette of Lucius filled the entrance to the hallway.

His eyes swept along the walls and alighted at the spot where Hermione was huddled. He stared at her for a moment before beginning to stalk forward slowly. Draco appeared beside his father.

Don't blow your cover. Don't blow your cover, Draco. Hermione repeated the thought in her head like a mantra as Lucius closed in on her.

Lucius felt like a dragon in human skin. He moved down the hall towards Hermione with an indirect and sinuous pace, like a serpent; as though he were daring her to run.

His eyes were bright and glittering as he closed in.

"You recall the repopulation program? I'm required to keep a surrogate. Didn't I mention my impending fatherhood?" Draco's expression was cold but intent as he eyed Hermione. He moved his head faintly, as though to warn her not to move.

"Ahh yes. The Mudblood that The Daily Prophet wrote about. I'd forgotten she was here." He stood mere inches away from Hermione as he looked her over. The Dark Magic hung around him like a cloak and it caused her stomach to roil as her body broke out in a cold sweat. She pressed herself more tightly back against the wall.

Lucius prodded her head back with his wand until her eyes met his. His pupils were blown wide; there was only a shard of silver encircling them. "A little mouse caught in a serpent's nest."

Hermione felt her robes shift as Lucius' hand slid lightly along her body. "Do you enjoy her, Draco? Does the commonness appeal to you? I imagine after so many years of being forbidden, there must be a novelty in exploring a Mudblood's filth. It would explain why your wife has wandered so far from her marriage bed. Did your little toy make you crave things a pureblood wife would have better breeding than to indulge?"

Lucius' voice dropped into a predatory purr as he drew closer to Hermione. He smelled of cardamom and leather, but it was masked beneath the coppery fetid scent of old blood. Hermione's tongue curdled, and her throat contracted as she tried to swallow.

"Let's see what assets you have, to keep my son in Britain while his wife entertains in France."

Don't blow your cover. Don't blow your cover.

She felt the buttons over her bust come undone. She shook imperceptibly, and a small whimper almost escaped her, but she kept it in. Her eyes sought out Draco, trying to warn him off.

He was standing frozen behind his father, his eyes burning with rage.

Don't-don't-don't-

Lucius' hand closed around her throat, and he gave a low, shaking laugh. It wasn't short. The laughter continued on and on rather than stopping. Every time Hermione thought he might stop, he continued his low, relentless, mirthless noise. His fingers were still wrapped around her neck as though he might snap it, and she felt every vibration.

"Why, Draco..." he finally said, glancing over his shoulder. "She's attached to you."

Draco's expression instantly curved into a cruel, gloating smirk as he met Lucius' gaze. "Yes, she is."

He reached past Lucius, took hold of Hermione's arm, and pulled her firmly out of his father's grasp.

Draco glanced at her before looking back to his father. "Past torture left her unstable and caused rather extensive memory loss. The Dark Lord has a particular interest in the information he believes she possesses. He wants her kept safe here at the manor until I can extract it." He gave a thin smile. "It only took a few months and she's grown quite attached to her captor. I'm all she has in the world." He stared intently down at Hermione and smirked. "Aren't I, Mudblood?"