Bound by Fate

Chapter 10: Overheard

Hermione sat in the library, curled up in one of the worn leather chairs, her mind still swirling with the overwhelming reality of everything that had happened. The books around her provided a fragile sense of comfort, but it was fleeting. She was still a prisoner, still trapped in Malfoy Manor, and no amount of old parchment and ink could change that.

She had been in the library for what felt like hours, her fingers tracing the spines of books she didn't have the energy to read. Draco's strange offer to bring her here had unsettled her. Why had he done it? What was his endgame? She didn't trust him, not after everything, but a part of her—a small, unwilling part—felt that he wasn't as cold as his father. Not entirely.

A sudden commotion outside the library broke through her thoughts. Hermione's ears perked up at the sound of hurried footsteps, followed by the shrill cry of what sounded like a house-elf. The noise was strange—out of place in the typically quiet manor. Her heart quickened. Something was happening.

She rose from her chair, moving cautiously toward the door. Her curiosity got the better of her, and despite her instincts to remain hidden, she cracked the door open just enough to peer out into the hallway. She could see the small, trembling figure of the house-elf running down the corridor, its voice frantic as it called for help.

Hermione's stomach twisted. The air felt thick with tension, and something about the scene felt wrong. She stepped into the hallway, staying close to the shadows, her body tense as she moved toward the source of the noise.

As she approached the corner, she heard voices—low and tense. She recognized Draco's voice immediately, followed by a cooler, more controlled tone. Narcissa.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she crept closer, careful not to make a sound. She pressed herself against the wall, just out of sight, her breath shallow as she listened.

"I'll have the house-elf take care of the arrangements," Narcissa's voice echoed down the hallway. "There's no need to involve anyone else. We can keep this quiet."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. Arrangements? She could barely make out the sound of Draco's reply, but whatever it was, it sent a chill down her spine.

"You understand what this means, don't you?" Narcissa's voice continued, cold and measured. "You're the head of the family now. Everything that was your father's—the estate, the businesses, the influence—it's all yours. You'll be responsible for maintaining the Malfoy legacy."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Head of the family? What does she mean? She leaned closer to the wall, trying to hear more clearly, her heart racing.

Narcissa's voice softened slightly, but there was an edge to her words. "Lucius wasn't an easy man to live with, Draco. We both know that. But his death changes things. The Malfoy name is everything, and now you're the one who will carry it forward."

Hermione's blood ran cold. Lucius is dead? Her mind spun with the implications. She barely knew what to feel—relief, confusion, fear. What did this mean for her? Had Draco done it? Or had Lucius simply died of natural causes?

She pressed her back against the wall, her mind reeling as she tried to process what she was hearing. Draco had never seemed particularly loyal to his father, but could he have gone as far as to kill him? The thought sent a jolt of shock through her.

Her breath quickened as she heard Draco speak again, his voice quieter but more resolute. "I'll do what needs to be done," he said, his tone steady but laced with something Hermione couldn't quite place. Guilt? Determination?

Narcissa didn't respond immediately, and Hermione could picture her calculating gaze, her sharp mind already considering the future. The silence that followed was heavy, and Hermione's pulse raced as she waited for the next words.

"I believe in you, Draco," Narcissa said finally, her voice soft but firm. "You can do this."

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest as she listened to their conversation, her mind a whirl of questions. If Draco was now the head of the family, what would that mean for her? Would things get better, or worse?

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Hermione froze, pressing herself against the wall as tightly as she could. Narcissa's voice faded as she walked away, but Hermione stayed still, her body tense as she waited for the corridor to clear.

A few moments later, Draco's footsteps followed, slower and more deliberate. He wasn't speaking now, but Hermione could feel the weight of his presence as he moved down the hall, his steps heavy with the burden of what had just happened. She didn't dare breathe until the sound of his footsteps disappeared entirely.

Hermione's mind raced as she stayed frozen in place. Lucius is dead. Draco is in charge now. The realization was almost too much to process. Whatever had happened, it had changed the entire dynamic of the manor.

But what did it mean for her?

She had no idea if Draco's newfound power would make things better or worse for her, but the thought of him in control—of him holding the reins of the Malfoy family—was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The Draco she had known in school was arrogant and cruel, but the Draco she had seen since her capture was... different. She didn't know what to make of him.

But one thing was certain: things were changing.

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped away from the wall, retreating silently back toward the library. She needed time to think, to process everything she had just overheard. Lucius's death was a turning point, and she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

No matter what Draco's role was in his father's death, she knew one thing: the game had just changed.