As Hermione awoke, she was instantly aware of one thing, something was very wrong. She moaned softly as a slicing pain erupted from the back of her head. There was a low chuckle.
"I'm glad to see that you've finally woken up Ms. Granger, I was almost afraid that I had killed you." A silky voice filled with mirth sounded from very close by.
Hermione's eyes shot open and with a surprising burst of adrenalin she got to her feet and lurched backwards. But her panicked strength couldn't withstand the white-hot agony that flooded her head at the sudden movement. Her vision was clouded by pain. Hermione stumbled into the wall behind her and slid back down to the floor with a whimper of barely containable pain.
There was another chuckle, "I would suggest that you try not to over exert yourself, that's quite an injury you have. And there's no need for you to suffer needlessly child."
Hermione opened hers eyes again, taking the time you survey her surroundings for the first time. She was in fairly small room. Not a dungeon or a cell like she would have imagined, but rather, an old fashioned sitting room. Not far from her there was a warm fire in a hearth. The wood-paneled floor was mostly hidden by a faded rug. The walls were covered in a shabby paper that might once have portrayed yellow flowers. On the far side of the room was a door, the only exit, as the windows seemed to have been boarded up in the not too distant past. The nails that held the shutters closed looked rather new and shiny. Near the door was a hall tree. Hanging from one of its many arms was her very own cloak. She felt an intense hysterical need to giggle, but fought against it.
The only other occupant that the room contained was Lucius Malfoy who was sitting in a comfortable looking high-backed chair, a small table to his right where Hermione could see a crystal cut decanter holding some deep golden liquid. Next to the bottle was her wand. He watched her with amusement, a matching glass held loosely in his hand. The older Malfoy was ever so slightly twirling the snifter, the amber liquid swirling hypnotically about.
"I don't suppose you'd like a drink?" He asked, almost kindly, as he followed her gaze.
His tone made it seem as if she was nothing more than a guest who was showing deplorable manners. Hermione shivered, this benevolence was far more frightening than any thing she had ever experienced.
"My son has a good eye, I'll give him that much." Lucius sipped his drink while his eyes swept Hermione up and down. "I wouldn't call you beautiful, but I can see how some might find you endearing."
Hermione looked away from him with a shudder, as he continued to size her up.
"Now while I've never approved of interactions with mudbloods of any kind, there are some among us who find that they have a taste for such commonness. While I might not have approved, I wouldn't have been ashamed of my son had he sought you out simply as a way to teach those Gryffindors a lesson." Lucius set his glass down on the table and removed his wand from his robe. "But you and I both know that that is not the case with Draco."
Hermione slouched further against the wall, wishing desperately that she could simply fade into the cracks. She watched him twirl the wand carelessly in his fingers just as he had the glass, almost as if he had all the time in the world.
"But no, that is certainly not the case," he repeated again the smile fading from his face. "I'm afraid that my son has become rather infatuated with you, thankfully I believe that it won't cause him reputable harm if it is put to a stop quickly. It will take him a while to undo the shame that he has caused to me and to our Lord, but in due time I believe that he can make his amends."
Hermione's pale face broke into a glare, "he didn't want anything to do with your Lord long before me." She hissed.
The smile was completely gone from Lucius' face now. His gray eyes that once Hermione would have thought similar to Draco's were nearly black with rage. He leisurely raised his wand.
