The long hallway to the drawing room appeared darker than normal. The normally chatty portraits that hung on the walls, though awake, were completely silent in their frames. With a few waves of her wand Narcissa’s hair smoothed into the elegant updo Hermione had always seen on the woman and the pinched, worried expression of a few minutes ago faded into one of cold indifference.

Occlumency , Hermione finally recognized.

Lucius had guided them down the winding staircase in silence, one hand on his wife’s back and the other on Hermione’s shoulder. When he felt the latter trembling, he gave her a small, reassuring squeeze.

She wanted to ask where Draco and Theo were, but thought it better at the moment not to open her mouth lest she begin screaming. Perhaps it was for the best they weren’t here – she didn’t want any attention unnecessarily drawn upon them.

The trio stopped before the heavy oak doors of the drawing room. Hermione thought she heard a strange dragging noise on the other side and her eyebrows drew together in confusion at the sound until she saw Lucius’ head turn. He looked at her for a long moment before tapping a finger to her temple. She understood well enough – think of your library, control your emotions .

So she did.

With a small groan, the double doors opened as if of their own volition. Not wanting to make any mistakes, Hermione trained her gaze resolutely on the dark wood floors – so shiny she could see her blank expression reflected in them. She looked like a stranger with her elegant robes and smoothed back hair… She felt like one too.

When they walked a good measure into the room and stepped onto an ornately woven rug, the three dropped to one knee. Lucius’ pressure on Hermione’s shoulder a guide for the action.

The dragging sound was louder, but she realized it was not dragging but slithering . An immense tail wound its way around her knee, curling over her calf before sliding off her ankle. She fought the urge to shrink away or scream, instead pressing her fingers into her palms until she felt the bite of her nails against her skin.

“Lucius,” a cold voice said, the s slightly drawn out the way she’d heard them when Harry had spoken in parseltongue. Hermione saw Lucius’s head turn up towards the Dark Lord and assumed his name had been the invitation to look. “And Narcissa… My faithful servants.”

“We are pleased to have you in our home, my lord,” Lucius replied evenly and Hermione knew without looking, that the cold mask would have taken over his face.

“Ever the gracious host,” the Dark Lord replied with what Hermione imagined was amusement, though with the lack of emotion it was difficult to tell.

“May I present to you, Miss Hermione Granger, my lord.” Lucius gave Hermione’s shoulder a squeeze, but she did not look up from the rug.

“Ahh, Potter’s mudblood,” he said with an approximation of a chuckle. “Come here, girl.”

Hermione’s stomach twisted painfully but she didn’t hesitate – knowing to do so may be deadly. Maintaining her gaze on the ground she got to her feet. She walked a few paces closer, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Quite a respectful creature, is she not, Lucius?”

“She is, my lord.”

“Look at me, girl.” The Dark Lord snapped his fingers.

Her eyes snapped up. The first thing she registered was the large snake curling around pale, bare feet. Heavy charcoal robes cascaded around them where he sat in a large, obsidian chair that put Hermione very much in mind of a throne. His face was completely smooth and mask-like, almost as if skin had been stretched painfully tight over his skull. Tiny blue veins snaked through the top and temples of his head while his eyes glowed red in the dim light.

Though there was fear, Hermione found it was not as overwhelming as it could have been. She could feel her knees trembling beneath the heavy silk of her robes and wondered if that was why Narcissa chose this particular set. The long bell sleeves also hid her shaking hands. In her mind, she cataloged all the reasons why she needed to serve him. Why it was imperative that he find a use for her. But behind that logic, other words circled like water in a drain.

Draco, for Draco. For Draco. Draco.

“Hello, mudblood,” he said with what she assumed was a smile. The thin skin around his mouth pulled back showing sharp, strangely white teeth.

“Hello… my lord,” Hermione responded.

This response appeared to delight him, his ruby eyes flicking from her, to Lucius, and back again.

“Oh very good, very good.” He clapped his hands together. “I must confess, when Severus told me that young Draco was courting this creature, I could not understand the appeal. But she is quite the confusing mixture of bravado, brains, and beauty – is she not?”

“That she is, my lord,” Lucius responded again.

The Dark Lord leaned forward in his chair, spidery hands curling around the carved arms.

“What is it you want, girl?”

Hermione could feel his putrid breath slithering over her cheeks and fought the urge to retch. She thought for a long moment about everything she knew of the Dark Lord.

“To serve you, my lord,” she answered.

“Is that so?” He sat back in his chair, a pale white finger tapping his hollowed cheek.

“It is, my lord,” Hermione responded without hesitation.

“I have to admit in all this time I never considered employing someone of your… status. And your proximity to Harry Potter is tantalizing. Severus assured me you would be willing to serve, whatever the cost. But loyalty often comes as a price, does it not?”

She tried desperately not to show confusion on her face.

“I suppose, my lord. I am willing to pay whatever the cost may be to serve you.”

He clicked his tongue, obviously thinking over her words.

“ Crucio, ” the Dark Lord said in an almost bored voice, his wand flicking in the darkened room.

Pain exploded through Hermione’s body. Caustic, acidic pain that ate her very bones. Her body bent backwards, like a puppet on strings, and she couldn’t stop her scream as agony ripped through her.

But just as soon as it came, it was gone.

She dropped to her knees, panting heavily but did not look away from the snake-like man seated comfortably in front of her.

Her mind was scattered. She could see her mental library, parchment from tattered books floating in the air. For a moment, she lost all reason - lost the thread of why she was kneeling before Voldemort. Her panicked mind fought against the way her muscles had seemed to shut down. Have to get up. Have to fight. Have to get out of here. And then, slowly, it all came back to her.

Change. Promise. Something more . More than this. Narcissa. Lucius. Theo. Daphne. Pansy. Blaise. Draco.

Draco.

Draco.

Draco.

“I am willing to pay the cost, my lord,” Hermione repeated breathlessly.

He looked at her contemplatively for a long moment before leaning forward until his bony fingers stroked her cheek. Nausea roiled inside of her but she swallowed it down, forcing her face to remain smooth.

“Hmmm. So it seems.” His red eyes flickered behind her.

“She is strong, my lord,” Lucius said coldly but there was an edge of something around the words.

“Not strong enough,” the Dark Lord replied, taking her chin between two sharp fingers. “But she will be.”

She couldn’t stop the strange swell of pride and hope that surged within her.

But she will be.

He released her, sitting back into his throne and settling his hands once again on the arms of the chair. There was a strange, hissing noise that she knew was parseltongue and then the giant head of the snake slid over his arm. Without breaking eye contact with her, he stroked it affectionately.

“When will you next see Potter, Miss Granger?”

Hermione cleared her throat, her tongue feeling strangely thick. “In a few weeks’ time, my lord. I… I believe I am to go to the Weasley residence and will see him there.”

The Dark Lord gave a sound like disgust in the back of his throat.

“I see. And Narcissa has been training you in the art of legilimency?” He looked behind Hermione once more.

“I have not, my lord,” Narcissa said quickly. “Though she shows a natural gift for the skill. I would be happy to begin her lessons immediately.”

He waved a hand in agreement.

“Good. I will check back in three weeks’ time at your progress and from there shall weigh your worth. Should I find you wanting…” His eyes moved to Lucius and Narcissa behind her. “We shall find a new bride for Draco.”

“Yes, my lord,” the two adults answered.

His gaze flicked back to Hermione.

“I will aim to please you, my lord,” she said with all the fervor she could muster.

“See that you do, girl. Now go .”

On shaking legs Hermione pushed to her feet. She could feel strange tremors through her muscles and beneath her wide sleeves her fingers twitched. As she turned, she saw the stony faces of the Malfoys, who also rose and turned to the doors.

Behind her, she heard the crack of apparition and knew the Dark Lord had gone, taking with him the oppressive darkness that had slithered into the room and the putrid stench of decomposing bodies.

The moment silence slithered back into the room, heavy and dark like the snake, Hermione collapsed to the ground and vomited all over the shiny wood floor.