Diamonds

11. All For You

"Take my hand, Draco. Hermione, have you ever Apparated before?"

"No, Mrs Malfoy. I've read about it, though. Is it true that most of those who experience it are sick immediately after?"

"You'll have to tell me. Don't let go. And do keep your mind blank, I have no interest in being splinched today." And Narcissa Malfoy took Hermione's hand, holding it with the same gentleness with which a child clasps her doll. Hermione, expecting a crushing vice from this stern woman, was taken aback.

And then, she saw black.

✦

Finding her feet, Hermione had never felt quite so nauseous. She stumbled away from Narcissa and Draco, feeling as though her throat were burning, her lungs aching. Apparition felt awful, like being forced through a tiny tubular passage. Her shoulders were shaking as she coughed, praying to anyone who might be listening to prevent her from vomiting. A warm hand touched her arm without warning; she could feel it through the cream wool of her sweater. She very nearly hit the person who touched her; only refraining because she was shaking too hard.

"I didn't think you'd take Apparition as badly as you and Neville took flying lessons." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. She sneered at him.

"I bet you end up being sick the first time you go on a ship or a plane!"

"I've been on a ship. Family holiday when I was seven. What's a plane, exactly?"

"Muggle transport. It lets them fly."

"Fly? Like a broom? You said you hated flying."

She pushed her hair out of her eyes, grimacing. "I do. But planes at least have a floor, padded seats, catering. Brooms don't have that."

"Flying carpets have a floor. Sort of."

"We don't learn to fly a flying carpet, though, do we?"

"Draco, walk Hermione inside. And call Dobby to clean up anything that needs cleaning."

"Yes, mother," Draco agreed instantly. Hermione looked up, and her mouth instantly fell open.

She was leaning against a tall hedge, standing before a wrought iron gate that had been left open. The driveway, if that was what it was- why do they have a driveway? I doubt they own a car- ran straight from several metres behind them to several more metres ahead, where the smooth stone met the house. For the first time, Hermione fully appreciated that it really was Malfoy Manor. The building was the same size as the school she had gone to until receiving her Hogwarts letter, the one that had to house the boarding students it took on from all around the world. She counted what looked like three stories of windows, one double the height of the others, and six turrets rising above it all. Dark shingles gleamed, as pristine as the day they'd been laid centuries ago, if Draco's tales about the age of the Manor were anywhere close to accurate. And the grounds! She couldn't see another house in any direction and, though she was fully aware that she was too short to see over the tall hedges, she got the impression that it was also because the property itself was the size of a village. "Draco."

"Hermione."

"Please tell me I'm not going to be locked in the same room the entire time I'm here."

"Of course you won't. Why would you be? You'll get a tour from Dobby."

"I thought you'd be the one to do that."

He stared at her. "Do you want me to?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but didn't get the chance. A sharp pop cut her off, and twin eyes the exact shade and size of a tennis ball were suddenly fixed on her. "Mistress has told Dobby to take Misses things to Misses room. Miss is to sleep in the room next to Master's. Dobby cleaned it for Miss, just like Mistress said." The creature smiled nervously; Hermione wondered if it was more afraid of her than she was of it. The philosophy applied to spiders, why shouldn't it be appropriate when face to face with strange wrinkled midgets with bandaged fingers and snouts and bat-like ears?