The rest of their time was quiet, Malfoy simply left as soon as she finished what lied on the tray.
He did that every morning as the days passed, Hermione never really ate otherwise, she never had an appetite. Yet with Malfoy's close watch she didn't quite really have a choice. He stood at the same time, in the doorway of her enclosure and left when the tray was wiped out clean.
Hermione kept one thing on her mind, the determination to pull through.
She still couldn't stop thinking about it. All of it. The words In the paper, the indications Narcissa spoke, and the curiosity of if her confinement would ever come to an end. She wasn't remembering a thing of use, how much longer till it were to be forced out? She didn't think that would be the immediate response Voldemort or any of the others would give, since it had a lack of benefit, yet she found eternal captivity a dreadful thought. It were although the seeming reality.
It would be her new normal until the dark lord got as he pleased.
The days would mesh into one, yet she listened to what was asked. Just until she had a fixed plan.
Just maybe If she proceeded without any suspicions, a plan would formulate soon enough.
Most days were like the previous. The silence that filled the room, along with Andromeda and Malfoy's remarks, with the same bitter tones they shared. Hermione would be out on the garden for merely thirty minutes a day. She would walk around, as she stood clear from the door with the lock, she learned from the last time. Yet being outside truly didn't differentiate then from the indoor walls. Her mind stood the same, whilst her mental state was not improving either, it stayed in the same dull place.
By the look of Malfoy, she reckoned the same went for him.
His was far different. Hermione went on day by day not able to stop her deepening thoughts. She had practically no control. Nothing were truly in her hands.
The lack of life in Malfoy, along with the heavy weighted bags that lied beneath his eyes, and his repetitive beverage of choice. It all pointed to someone who held themself higher than what they truly thought.
Within her time of isolation, she had not a thing to do. She merely sat, thought, and inspected her surroundings. It was simply all she could do. She would either be accompanied by Andromeda or Malfoy as they kept close watch, yet she was mostly with Malfoy as Andromeda usually trailed off.
They both would occasionally interrogate her with a few useless questions. They would ask something of one of the horcruxes, whilst Hermione sat in front not spilling a single word. They eventually grew to ask less and less.
Hermione usually was to be watched at most hours of the day, yet even in the circumstance in which she was alone she still felt eyes. She grew paranoid to the idea that walls could hear and the family portraits could see all that went.
She even grew anxious with the possibility she were being tracked. After all it wouldn't be the craziest thought.
She began to think that she had inspected every inch of the corridor, every corner of her room, and every plant in the garden. Those were the spots she stayed in repetievly. The one space she wanted to roam the most were the cellars that lied beneath. She knew they were not empty, yet the question of whom else sat within stood tall. She had an idea of a few peers that would sat slumped, yet there was no way to tell for certain.
She also would write in the journal Anna handed as she was instructed.
There were questions within the pages in which she was asked to answer below.
Whats a vivid, memorable experience that stays within your thought?
She read this question and saw nothing but the chilled floors of Hogwarts as some took their last breaths.
Then she reread the question and realized that it probably indicated a more lightening memory.
Not a traumatic one. Yet she believed she were all out of any that held bliss. She thought hard none the less.
She took note of whatever came to mind.
Times in the dining hall back at Hogwarts. Not a specific moment or occasion, but just In general it's always a good thought that comes.
-H.G.
She found best to keep it simplistic, and direct.
She thought that would be enough. Yet in all honestly it wasn't the most lingering thought she had, but indeed the least dreadful out from the majority. She believed that her true initial responses would make Anna question her mental capacity. Not a glimmer of light present.
Yet she needed something on that paper for Anna to report back. Still remaining weary that anything she wrote or spoke the dark lord would read and hear.
"Alright Miss Granger, I must check in with you." Anna spoke as she opened the door with her bag by her side, which practically had papers flowing out, as she took her seat.
"I assume you wrote the required response?" She questioned.
"Yes, I answered it." Hermione spoke as she held the brown covered book In hand.
"Right then, I hope you are answering truthfully." She looked at her with a side eye.
Hermione did nothing but nod in agreement.
Anna had a stern organized approach, yet not threatening nor bitter in any way. Nothing comparable to the others in that manor.
"I also hope you are getting the needed time outdoors, is that correct?"
Time outdoors, time in the dreadful manor itself. It was all the same to Hermione.
Yet of course orders had to be fufillled.
"Yes, thirty minutes a day." She responded direct.
"It may not do much, but then again staying within the same dark shaded doors can fog up ones mind even more." Anna spoke adding reasoning.
She knew it were Annas job to get Hermione's brain in the best state, to hopefully recall past events. Especially if she simply suppressed them because of the trauma she had endured. She expected Anna was trying anything in her abilities to get some progress. Anywhere from writing in the journal to initiating spending time outdoors.
She couldn't help but think that Anna requested something similar from Draco. She instigated what on earth he would write in the same prompts she did.
"Alright Miss Granger I need you to truly be honest." She gave a serious stare.
"Do you find yourself having any dark thoughts? Any abrupt scenes of shock--moments of agitation, anything of the sort?" She announced with the pad of paper laid flat on the table, quill in hand.
Hermione could speak far too much on the question. In fact a concerning amount. That is if she were being honest.
"Occasionally, yes I tend to get panic attacks quite frequently." Hermione spoke as Anna jotted everything she said.
She nearly felt obligated to answer honestly, yet she hated speaking of it. She despised thinking of the tolls war took on her. Even the service that were expected of her in present time.
Hermione stared at the woman steadily, as she watched and thought.
"I truly don't think I can blame you for that Miss Granger." Was all she spoke. She didn't seem surprised, almost as if she expected it.
"I do in fact need to report what I gather from our meetings, but I can include in the statement that torture will not help your case." Anna said as she kept writing on the parchment.
It was same as what Pomfrey had spoke, that torture or harmful treatment will not bring the memories of the horcruxes back. It was a slight insurance that she wouldn't endure the pain of the unforgivable curses, yet she hadn't a clue of who in the manor would listen.
Malfoy was keen on using legilimens. Who's to say he wouldn't do more?
"Some of my other patients have similar struggles to you as well." Anna muttered mindlessly under her breath, as she went through her documents, keeping track of Hermione's state.
She wanted ever so badly to ask of merely a name, yet she knew Anna wouldn't be direct, as it would oppose her own self.
"Are they alright at least?" Hermione just had to wonder. If someone were going through what she was then she could sense their agony. They could be in dark dungeons as well, which is slightly worse than above grounds.
Not much of a difference, but she could still slightly imagine.
"Yes, they are doing alright, as good as anyone in this situation can be." Hermione sensed that perhaps Anna didn't want to worry her even further. Yet she didn't know how trustworthy her words could stand. She truly didn't trust anyone who were of service to the dark lord.
Anna held somewhat of an unsettling, buggering expression.
"You know occasionally I do indeed have to go against what I presume is right and follow orders, and well some of my other patients will act out in refusal." She spoke with distaste for days.
"I simply do not agree with the actions used upon them all, yet It's what the dark lord believes will work best, in which I simply comply." Hermione didn't say a word.
By the way their time went she couldn't imagine Anna hurting a soul. Then again it wasn't always her choice, she assumed the dark lord had less concern for any others, in which he uses force and physical persuasion to get everyone under his order. Hermione was of course under different direction, yet she didn't want to question what restrainment's or punishments others would face for lack of compliance.
Yet she for certain could picture someone like Parkinson refusing orders.
There was still a difference between Anna and someone like Dolohov. He would talk the most cruel and absurd words with no ounce of regret, nor guilt, and not have a speck of remorse. People like him and the Malfoy's. They all held the same towering gaze, yet one didn't seem as if he could handle as much given. Hermione saw hints to that.
"Having all the meetings that I do, makes one take a true look into another's mind." The woman huffed out, as Hermione picked up on what she was speaking on. After all, taking a deep understanding into another was indeed Annas job.
"Not to push you any further than what is necessary, but is there a particular trigger for the abrupt scenes of panic you endure?" Anna questioned as Hermione picked at her nail beds.
Anna tried to ask questions as a suggestion, but Hermione knew she had to tell all.
"Well, sometimes it's just thinking back on what happened--or simply just glancing down at old wounds." Hermione spoke signaling down to her bandaged arm.
"The scars directly remind you of the war?" Anna looked at her, whilst Hermione kept her gaze low.
"Yes, it's rather vivid, the scars are a direct correlation--whenever I see blood or anything of the sort, its quite the flashback." Hermione stiffened, she had to pull through the questions, even if they were unsettling to answer.
She expected Anna to get the idea that certain visuals helped Hermione remember. Yet she didn't know if that were true in all cases. Something as potent as a battle, that was indeed unforgettable. Even if she tried.
"I am not surprised that you have these moments of fear, they would be quite common in this case." At least she wasn't going completely insane.
Hermione did not want to describe it any further. She didn't want to get into the ingrained details that would occur. It wasn't an easy matter to speak of, one had to be in it to grasp the half of it.
By the way Anna spoke, she sat down with others who could relate as well.
"Well, these meetings are getting me somewhere at least, I ask of you to keep up with the journal prompts, as I will check it later on." Hermione just sat and didn't respond, she at least spoke more than on an ordinary day.
"Before we end off is there anything else you would wish to speak of?" Anna questioned as Hermione had words she wished to announce, yet they were matters that the woman would most likely be forbade to speak on.
"Unless you can answer any of the million questions I have?" Hermione let out hopeful, yet Anna gave her looks of disappointment.
"Right, unfortunately I doubt I can." She spoke giving Hermione the slightest bit of sympathy.
She at least had to try.
Anna put Hermione's document back in her bag with all the others. She slowly rises from the table as the woman headed for the door.
"Well then I got enough for today, until next time Miss Granger." She spoke as she exited out the door without anything else following.
She wondered if Anna would ever let out anything more. By the way she spoke she wanted to talk up, yet hesitated at every chance.
Malfoy came in just merely a few minutes after the woman left, Hermione was skipping through the pages in the journal looking over the prompts. Her head soon shifted to the doorway where he stood.
"Lets hope you told her about those panic attacks that erupt, they tend to get further out of control than what it appears you can handle." He spoke entitled as ever, per usual.
Hermione knew he would know a lot about Annas questioning process. She had the urge to bring it up, deep down she knew how poorly he would react.
She wouldn't be surprised if he had them too. Moments of panic, he clearly had something going on, as he still managed to look down upon Hermione. She found it baffling.
Her eyes immediately trailed to his drowsy gaze, eyes open, yet a look of dishevel. It appeared he didn't bother with a flask, but instead went straight for the bottle.
She looked at him with slight more inner fear, he was bad enough entirely present, in other words sober, she didn't want to imagine him even slightly worse. She didn't know how much more bitterness he could even execute.
She was practically waiting for him to pull out the beverage and sip every minuscule drop, yet it appeared he got that taken care of before hand.
"Why do you look as if you've seen a ghost?" Malfoy snarly questioned, as she snapped her eyes away from the dread he carried in his.
She soon grew a look of distaste on her appearance. The same nauseous look she obtained when he brought in his signature smell.
"What Granger? The smell too much for you?" He spoke seeing the look of repulse displayed upon her, as he cocked his head to the side.
"Well I would be lying If I said it was bearable." She quietly spoke under her breath, as he took a fake smell of his coat.
"Smells quite bearable to me." He said care free of whatever answer she spoke of. He didn't care even the slightest of what she found tolerable or not.
"What is it you smell exactly? We both know you've never even touched it before." He questioned her at every given moment.
Hermione knew what whiskey smelt like. Didn't matter if she tried it or not, by the amount he drank she soon picked up on the aroma, matching the name right along with it.
"Come on, you don't remember much, but I want to hear you say it." He spoke practically trying to bother with her mind further, something she truly did not need.
Her fingernails etched into her palms as he remained persistent. The room fell silent for a mere minute as all that were to be heard was slight pants, and the rise of her chest shifting between high and low.
"Say what I drink Granger, we both know you judge as I do, why not speak of the stench you hate ever so much?" As he would drink away Hermione always gave a look as he went on. Simply because she knew he were around, as the smell consumed the spaces air, and she always had to be alert when a Malfoy was present.
"You watch me drink it all the time, let's see if there's even a slight bit of wits left." He was pushing her, he liked the thought of getting a rise out of those he didn't take a liking towards. Hermione wanted to stay silent, but something told her that wouldn't be good enough for him.
"Whiskey, thats what I smell." Hermione spoke looking down as she fiddled with her journals spine.
"Yeah, the one I drink everyday, I trust you will get used to the smell." He spoke blatant, and cold, as she didn't even shoot him a glare. She had her thoughts, yet she thought better to keep it to herself. Something he never tend to do.
"What do I drink it out of?" He was being torturous at this point. His words were spoken then silenced until he got his desired answer. His manner was foul.
"A flask." No emotion, no tone, she talked what he wanted to hear. Anything to get his interrogation done for.
"Good to know you keep a close eye of what's around." He spoke with wicked lining his voice.
"You need to be prepared for questions as they come, otherwise what use are you providing?" He said as he arched a brow while announcing the question.
She couldn't tell if he were actually trying to execute something useful or simply relished in his bothering manner.
With every comment proposed, he merely inched close, nothing jurassic, yet overtime as his words were executed so was a simple step forward.
He spoke as if it were something he was proud to notice. Of course she looked around, what else would she do when one is in the circumstance as she? He threw remarks her way time after time, there wasn't a doubt she would occasionally look his way, and notice his habits. He had to look over her every move, she soon grew to keep a close eye as well.
"It's a shame you don't have a drop to try, maybe that will get that brain of yours working." He smirked, as she practically huffed at the remark.
Even if she would end up slightly as he was, she was thankful she couldn't get her hands on a bottle.
"Trust me I don't want to stand around and question you, yet that is after all my job." He said as she gave him a side eye
"And I'd rather be back at my cellar at Hogwarts than here." She quietly spoke beneath her breath as she couldn't contain her need to speak it. She kept a lot bottled in, yet that was a statement that she had to say at least once. She could let out harsher words than that, yet she thought it fit best to have some filter of restraint.
"Wouldn't want you within the same walls I stay in as well." Was all he managed to fire back.
He was slightly alert of her lack of silence in that given moment.
"Did the dark lord actually ask you to eventually use legilimens?" She had to ask, the question was eating her alive. She would need to be aware, she couldn't sit through all the moments where he would suggest it and not confine. She was simply anxious at the word.
He was almost taken back that she abruptly asked a real question, after her continous silence.
"Thats what you want to ask?" He glared at her, whilst she kept her head down with her journal laid upon her lap.
"I would think the first actual statement you would ask is who of your peers are still alive." She stared up at him, jaw clenched, eyes still. They both knew that even if she were to ask that question he would never give a straight answer.
"One would assume the supposed brightest witch of her age would ask a few more intricate questions, yet here you are barely speaking a few words." Malfoy was pushing it this time, he knew the bitter taste she would inherit as he dragged out the words that he did.
"It appears you have grown to be disappointed that not everything out of a book could help you." She practically felt the blood drain from her head, as the consciousness of being weary in what to do started to fade. She was merely consumed by rage.
"I highly doubt I am wrong considering you have probably read every book in the making, know every spell by memory, and can answer a useless question on the spot. Yet now look around." He spoke as he motioned to her current stance. She knew exactly of her current position, but of course he had to rub it in even further. He didn't even give his words a second thought, not once.
"And you can't even deny it." His words weren't shocking. Yet at that point she didn't see use in forming retaliations. He would just subdue them anyway.
She was most familiar with the feeling of shaking in place due to nerves, yet somehow here she was trying to ease tension that built within her own self. The one he flamed to the furthest extent.
He simply wanted to ignite an already existent spark. That intent lied within many of his words.
She knew that he caught attention to the desperate desire for her want to know. That made it even a further along secret. She could ask all the questions that swarmed, yet he would give nothing but a dead stare, eyes wide, back leaned right up against a wall.
Yet as he referenced the word peers to only her, she almost rolled eyes as the sentence slipped.
They were once his peers as well.
Now he doesn't even associate himself with the person back at Hogwarts. She didn't either.
She questioned how he would react to the names of those he used to occasionally speak too. He most likely wouldn't even acknowledge the fact that they existed.
The way he spoke was longed and extend out. Never giving a simple, straight statement. Always keeping her breath hitched till his next utter. Always knowing what to speak, to have her silenced by restriction of speaking words she would later regret, due to the fact that she wasn't in control of the events that would take place upon her, yet instead she had to listen and comply.
He spoke the words that he did to get a startled reaction. Hermione indeed thought of all the others at a constant rate. He spoke as if he knew every detail of their stance, yet didn't give a care.
These were lives she mourned over daily. She knew some were dead for certain, yet still sulked over them all, considering the worst case scenario. He wasn't willing to let out a single piece of information to put her mind at ease. Of course he wouldn't. She didn't expect anything more.
"To answer simply, I can choose to use whatever spells I want. If I want to inspect that brain you obtain, I am free to do so. I don't just listen and follow." Once again another answer that didn't let her settle in her seat, yet rather pick at her nails in frustration.
"Come on Granger I would assume you know that. After all what's Gryffindor without the wits?" He couldn't go a second without a snappy reply. She soon had many of her own formulated, she had to bite back her tongue to store them.
"I could even use crucio If I please, yet after all I still have a bit of class."
She practically had to close her eyes and concentrate enough to not oppose his words of choice.
She knew he simply didn't use any form of physical torture because he had no reason to. She complied with every word spoken of any one In that place. Yet on the other end, he wouldn't ever stop insinuating the lunge to take a deep look into her thought.
Hermione bit back her lip as she anticipated his next words. She felt as if speaking would never work well in her favor. Yet keeping quiet didn't either.
"Thats not really the question I asked." She spoke blunt.
"I know." Thats all he could respond. Nothing to follow, not a single thought to rest her running assumptions.
Just nothing.
"The dark lord puts you on the front work I suppose." She spoke still glared down, not lifting to his level.
"Well I am here slumped with you aren't I?" He abruptly announced, shoulders high, stare prominent.
"He's put me as one of the few who need to obtain the knowledge he wants. He does not just give that title to anyone, he knows I will get the job done right." He glanced upon the floor beneath, as she changed perceptions of what was on her lap, and him as he spoke.
"I do as he needs and I in fact get the duties done precisely, in which he turns to me in times of immediate assistance." He spoke proud of his title.
"Do you have another questions I can suffice?" He said with questioned look, yet he didn't expect any but one answer. His words were dense, never truly intending on following by.
"None you would answer." She said giving him a slight glance. She did not see the point in continuing running in a loop trying to get a word of use. He was determined to play smart, and go around anything she wanted to hear.
"Right then." He straightened his draped coat as he turned direction, facing the door.
"Don't want to linger here further than I need to."
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