They had apparated to the foot of Malfoy Manor. It was far more gloomy and dull than one would think. It stood large, and powering, it with no doubt fit the Malfoy name.
With Dolohov's grip on her arm still steady, he jolted her step forward. They both stride right in, as she kept her gaze straight ahead. Dolohov led the way up the long winded stairway. The hallways lied cold and dark, as one took every step forward. The manor was enormous, yet the staircase took practically half the space.
"Go right in there." Dolohov spoke as he opened the door to one of the several rooms the place occupied. Hermione wearily took a step in as she slowly grew aware of her surroundings.
"Here comes the Mudblood."
A staggered, yet low voice was heard, as she stopped in her tracks.
Steadily making her gaze up and forward, It was Draco Malfoy.
He looked different. Not as she had seen him before.
He was recognizable, yet was not the same.
Hermione's memory of him at Hogwarts were present yet brief. She remembers his rigid remarks, and his prideful walk, yet his expression stood almost horrid. Far more dark and bitter, as he now carries his being in an even more entitled manner.
His dead, piercing stare at her was almost unbearable. His eyes remained still and steady as they lost any bit of luminescence.
His presence was unsettling. He towered over her with no care in the world as he withheld the look of pride within himself. He did indeed look different, yet she knew taking lives would do that to one.
He indeed had done that. More than once, him along with the others who obtained the Malfoy name. He were practically a duplicate of Voldemort himself. At that point she truly couldn't see a difference in the two. It was rather alarming.
The number of souls he took and tortured to shambles was purely unfathomable. Every single life he stood over on that battlefield, it truly did reflect on his physical outlook. She wondered who besides the ones she seen with her very eyes he had killed. At the same time she didn't think she could picture that in the present moment. It was bothering.
From what Pomfrey had told her, it seemed as if the Malfoy's had been up to nothing but horrid acts as she lied beneath, in the cellars of Hogwarts. Yet she never knew she would hear those remarks of someone she sat in the very same class with.
Someone who were practically her age.
Fear was all that consumed her as a whole. She had no clue of how to stagger through the circumstance she was put in.
He watched her firm and harsh, as she tried to look anywhere but his way.
It were as if he was reading a book, yet all he were doing was studying her expression. She didn't know what he was looking for, yet based off his very look, she had assumed he was trying to navigate through her mind, merely with a glance.
The determination to keep her look bland and unapproachable was stronger than ever.
She of course did not have stable nor reliable memory, yet she didn't want him to know that. She was far too mentally and physically exhausted to have another travel their way through her mind.
Yet she didn't think he would try. After all anyone who did had failed, something projected from his being that he indeed knew that. He didn't need to. His dark stare did that on its own. It was a resenting force that was being projected on from her, simply being right in front of him. He was no longer someone she attended classes with. He was a dark worker.
She finally displaces her glance from him, right down to the floor, as she tries to shake off the remaining sense.
"You truly do have a hazy memory, don't you?" he spoke, as he looked down upon her. "Maybe you don't remember everything of use, but I hope you still know you lost the war." He said with clarity in the answer.
She of course didn't respond with one.
She did not want to respond to anything.
She wanted to keep still, and quiet.
"Well, you have to end up knowing where those objects are eventually. Regardless of the way."
He projected an expression a smidge less than dark for merely a second to resemble pride, before retiring back to normal state.
Hermione could feel her knees shudder from the previous and current fear and pain that took over. He left a feeling present in the room that was nothing but unbearable.
He was nothing but the very lord he became loyal to. She couldn't stomach the being she were being talked to by. She didn't want to be in that very room any longer, yet something told her It was just getting started.
She were to take orders from a Malfoy.
A thought she had believed only lived in her nightmares.
She either listened to instruction, or most likely wouldn't stand. She could not decipher which was worse.
Something echoed in the back of her head that spoke the idea of her wanting to adhere knowledge of where the Horcruxes lied. Yet another part did not want to know. She didn't want them to know.
She were trapped under the roof she stood beneath. She feared how long it would be.
She steadied her breath, as she had to put her mind to work. She made it a duty to find some way out, a way to escape without a soul to see.
She did not expect the encounter with him to be as it was. She expected some sort of familiarity, yet she was not speaking to the Malfoy that walked back at Hogwarts. She spoke to a walking source of darkness.
She of course realized the sense of power death eaters carried. They wanted nothing but to be in control, whether it was hunting through ones brain, or torturing one to the cold scattered ground, they had their ways.
She knew she had to think rationally. Whatever way she may have came up with to make her way out, she could not act immediately, she had to map her way out just right. She had to stop, think and stay weary of the surrounding. Then maybe, her mind would be of great use to her.
Yet in that moment of time her brain was playing tricks on her. She had to compose herself before making any detrimental decision.
Her thoughts had her stomach clutch. The unreliability of her state paired her with fear.
The sound of footsteps neared closer elevating her senses. A woman dressed in all black neared closer, as her and Hermione met eyes.
"Finally, she's here." She huffed out in frustration, as Hermione held her gaze accompanied with confusion.
"Come with me." She ordered, as Hermione thought for a second and realized the best thing to act upon was simply just to comply.
"I need to see all you know before we begin anything else." She spoke once more, as Hermione kept her gaze low yet weary.
She couldn't help but notice the witch looked familiar. She matched the Malfoy's name, but she certainly was not. Yet looked related none the less. She resembled an uncanny similarity to Narcissa. A sibling perhaps. No way to tell for certain.
Hermione followed her into the hall. She inspected for a quick moment, studying her being as did Malfoy.
"So you're the mudblood who went off looking for those Horcruxes aren't you?" She spoke as, she looked Hermione from head to toe as she did nothing but keep quiet. yet her mind was anything but silent.
"Dolohov told me all about you're heroic efforts. Shame isn't it? All that for nothing." The smartness in her tone practically rattled in Hermione's ears. Her tone was sharp and forward.
"Get on with it Andromeda." Draco spoke standing in the frame of the doors entrance.
Andromeda. It didn't quite ring a bell.
"Right, well let's start with the basics." She pronounced with boredom.
"Tell me last you remember." This was an expected yet nauseating question. Clearly Hermione didn't know what they wanted, yet even if she did, she would not give it up all that easy.
Hermione kept quiet for merely a minute thinking of the right words to say. Yet in all of this her mind was still unsettled, distraught. She had just seen death on repeat. Now she had to go through this agonizing process, it was all too much to take.
"Well go on then." Andromeda demanded with annoyance.
Hermione still could not assemble the right sentence to be spoken. Her mind barely complied with her own self. Navigating it was simply watching her nightmares on a loop. It never got easier to watch, the ones that were clear at least. Nothing of use to them.
"Well you are practically useless." Andromeda harshly spat, as she grew frustrated at Hermione's lack of compliance.
"Maybe I should give you a little scare, perhaps that will motivate you." Andromeda spoke with a smug look of satisfaction.
"You will be put under a set of rules. One being the act of listening to all and every order given. Regardless If it's by me or another under this roof, we will do all that must be done to get the dark lords needed information." She rapidly said as she almost towered over Hermione's still being.
Nothing she spoke of was new knowledge being fed to Hermione. She had been commanded to simply listen and follow more than once, particularly by Dolohov. Andromeda was hardly any different.
"Don't try to act smart by keeping quiet. That will not help, but only make our job harder." She bitterly spoke as her tone clearly read that she wanted to get things done quick and easy. But thats not how the mind worked, no things such as this took time. Hermione could not give the desired answers, hence why she stood silent.
"Right then hurry on, come with me I will show you to you're room. I am quite tired of practically talking to a plant." Andromeda announced with a rigid tone. She was not gaining anything of use, not quite yet.
They made their way down the cold extended corridor for what felt like far too long. She was leading her to an isolated part of the Manor. It grew cold with each step forward. There was practically not a single crack of light, whilst every window barely had a slither not shadowed down by the drapery. Just enough for one to see their way. It was an unsettling place for one to be in, let alone spend their lives in.
"This is where you will stay. It's far more distant from the other rooms, the last thing I want from you is unnecessary noise." She spoke as she eyed Hermione with the opposite of bliss.
"I will come by every so often, perhaps alone or occasionally accompanied to see your progress of remembrance that stands as any use." Andromeda said as she pushed open the door to a slightly empty standing room.
Hermione walked in as she examined the surrounding. It was quite dull and shuddered as it had nothing but a closed off small window, as well as a simple bed and rustic looking chair positioned slightly off to the corner. The walls were empty and the dresser was opposite of the bed.
The room stood bland and cold. Nothing welcoming at all. Not in the slightest.
"Hold off on needing anything until I come by, will you?" Andromeda spoke with an order rather than a question.
"Perhaps the therapist will come by as well, Dolohov informed me that Pomfrey had said it would maybe help in aiding in you're remembrance. Unnecessary if you ask me." She last spoke, as she exited on out, and slammed the door behind.
Hermione now standing on her lonesome was quite unfamiliar. Yet it was somewhat of a relieving change. Yet of course she knew it weren't to last very long.
She had now assumed that Andromeda was family to the Malfoy's . She didn't know in what way, but clearly she does the same as the rest, obeys Voldemort as well.
It was not surprising, Voldemort wanted, or needed more than the Malfoy family could offer in which he branched out to relatives of them. He wanted as many hands as possible to achieve what he thrived for.
Andromeda didn't seem quite satisfied with her position. It were as if she wanted to get this done for as soon as possible, as if it were a chore. She seemed to have the same mindset as did all pure-bloods, a particular hate to muggles. The thought process that they were above, and the rest were beneath.
Hermione did not want to portray acts of refusal. If she acted in the manner of resistance, she would most likely have eyes watching from all corners. If Hermione kept her self quiet and attentive, she would be what they wanted, whilst in the midst of planning out escape. Andromeda seemed to be one of the ones to be looking out on Hermione's actions, and checking on her minds capability of memories on the Horcruxes. If she kept herself further off in the shadows while complying with the orders given, she would be further back in their minds.
Her way of going about was analyzing those who were assigned to her task. Seeing the way the Malfoy's and Andromeda acted upon every second would help Hermione get a perceptive of those who were attached to her side.
She had Andromeda and Malfoy for certain to be along her mind in the wishes of the dark lord. Her strategy was to go along with it, yet still keep herself planning and plotting.
She knew for certain that they both wanted nothing to do with her, but simply were following commands. That was not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe they would eventually get fed up with her. Yet they would not disobey their lord, that was not anticipated.
Yet she couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact of the matter. How ruthless the Malfoy's were, even one she attended classes with, who would have thought. By the talks of Pomfrey from when they were still In contact, or even merely listening to the other death eaters words, the Malfoy's had no mercy on a soul. It were as if Voldemort was multiplied.
The amount of lives they took on the battlefield was unfathomable. Yet it was the truth.
What made them all feel forced to comply? She couldn't believe that anyone would obey out of their choice, no that was nearly impossible.
It was all still ever so shocking, mind turning.
Even taking one life could ruin someone for good. Yet but by the talk of the town that wasn't the Malfoy's situation. They were very well being the main cause of death within that war that took place on Hogwarts grounds. Torturous curses were indeed casted often, even though they were horrendous as well, they did not nearly compare to a killing curse. Not just anyone could stand upon another and utter those very words that silenced one for good.
Then again Voldemort casted it like it was nothing. It was no surprise that he indeed would teach his loyal subjects to do the very same.
Yet before it was just Voldemort who held that inhumane title. Never would one think the Malfoy's would be up at the same rank.
Hermione would have to act weary and carefully. It was with no doubt that she was isolated into a closed off shuddered out room with no escape. Everything was planned out accordingly, which simply made it harder for her to reposition her circumstance.
She took a deep breath in as she recited every spell in the book. She may have been defenseless, yet any chance she would obtain a wand, she would be quick with it.
Reciting word after word, and spells over and over she realized she needed to adjust her fate. She refused to let this be the dead end of it all.
She needed to put her fate within her very own hands. It was all she wanted.
She had wondered if it were to be just her who was captured and brought back from the war. Although most now lied dead, she questioned if any of those who still walked would be of any use as she was. Yet she did not know the significance others would be.
Voldemort had been careful to not let many live. The more that did, the more he had against him, which interfered with his reign. After Harry's death most had simply accepted defeat in which everything went downhill from there. He had been knowledgeable of who knew what, and of those who could be of service.
Voldemort was quick and alert with his plans. He knew Hermione's worth to him, which lead to his quick act of capture.
This was highly disrupting. If Voldemort himself were smart and rapid with his actions, it was very certain that his followers would lie the same. Anyone from Malfoy to Narcissa, or even to Andromeda were most definitely all quick with their thinking. They would all be ready with wands out when needed.
This made Hermione feel ever more Helpless.
She wasn't just physically non reliable to aid in her escape, yet her mind was also internally exhausted to help herself. She had just experienced, heard, and saw war. This troubled her mind, not a soul could come back from that. It was not possible for one to put that in the back of their mind and move forward, no instead it held one back for ever so long.
Hermione had hoped that there was some who still stood by her side still taking in breaths. She did not know much besides what Pomfrey had spoken of, and occasionally heard whispers guards from around would exchange. She couldn't shake the feeling that there were still those who stood against Voldemort and his followers. If she simply planned out a successful escape, maybe she could find another who wished to get away from Voldemort's reign as she did.
Maybe she could get a word out of Andromeda or Malfoy that would be of use. Perhaps she could hear some type of whisper from those who stood within the Manor.
She stuck to the plan of being responsive and cooperative.
Just for long enough. Just for as long as she had too.
Keep a low profile and comply.
Maybe their guard wasn't as up as she had thought.
She would find out soon enough.
She would be on high alert.
Feel free to let me know you're thoughts on the story so far.