A Lamb to the Slaughter

Happy Birthday, I Suppose

"Pevensy, please don't call me 'my lady' anymore."

Pevensy crossed her arms, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes filling with fat tears. Hermione sighed.

Ever since she had met the little house elf, Hermione had been offending her on accident. It started with Hermione telling Pevensy that she deserved better. It happened again when Hermione insisted on dressing herself for the blood ceremony, only allowing Pevensy to do her hair and makeup. Now Pevensy seemed upset about Hermione falling asleep in the library the last four nights ("Does my lady not like her room? Does you avoid Pevensy?") and even more upset about Hermione's insistence on being called her name and not a title.

"I'm not avoiding you, Pevensy." Hermione dropped herself to her knees so she could be eye level with her. "I'm trying to do research. I love books and I love studying. I just study too long and fall asleep with my nose in a book."

"But Pevensy can bring books to your room! It's not good for my lady's posture to sleep like that-"

"Pevensy, I think we need a compromise."

The elf uncrossed her arms, which Hermione took as a sign to push onward.

"I did some reading on house elf culture, and realized that your kind lives to serve and please their master, right?"

Pevensy brightened, nodding enthusiastically.

Hermione fought the urge to groan. She hated offending the poor thing so often, but Hermione didn't want to be waited on and served. Pevensy assured her that while most house elves were slaves, Dobby, Pevensy, and Clementine were not. Hermione didn't know what to make of a family that was against enslaving house elves but not a young witch.

"My compromise is this: if you call me Hermione instead of my lady, I will let you do my hair and pick my dresses for the day. Is that fair?"

Pevensy placed her chin in her hand and tapped her foot. Hermione chocked back a chuckle at the sight.

"Pevensy agrees only if my-Hermione stops sleeping in the library."

"Deal."

Pevensy smiled as she tugged on her ears. "Pevensy can't wait to make Hermione so beautiful today!"

Hermione blushed. The only person in her life who had ever called her beautiful was her father. Now both Narcissa and Pevensy joined the short list.

"I think I'd like to walk the grounds today, so no heels." Hermione said politely.

While Pevensy laid out a plaid, floor-length skirt and linen top, Hermione leaned against the wall and stared at the new scar on her palm.

It had been four days since the ceremony, and she had not seen Draco once.

Granted, Hermione only went to dinner and the library, but he no longer appeared in the seat across from her at the table, and she no longer heard the echoing sounds of a piano. Hermione thought, when she took breakfast and lunch in the sitting room that was their shared quarters, that she'd see him come in and out of his room but she was wrong.

Narcissa made enough conversation at dinner that Hermione never got the chance to ask them where he was, and even if she could she didn't think she'd find the nerve.

It shouldn't have bothered her that he wasn't around, but she couldn't get the image of his tense back and bowed head out of her mind.

Something about the way he told her to stay away made her believe it was for her benefit, not his.

____

"You've overstayed your welcome, Ferret. Go home."

Draco scrubbed at his face, nearly hissing when Blaise threw back the velvet drapes and revealed the midday sun.