Chapter 3
It was late when Hermione finally left her lab to go home for the day. She was mentally exhausted and felt defeated. She wasn’t any closer to figuring out why the potion didn’t work for the minister, despite having spent all day working on it.
She decided to walk home, hoping the fresh air and exercise would clear her mind. She didn’t always like it, but sometimes, taking a break was just the thing she needed to overcome a stubborn problem. But her mind didn’t want to take a break. She continued going over every detail while she was walking. Lost in her thoughts, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings, which is why she didn’t notice the man step out from the alleyway as she approached.
When she was within arm’s reach, he grabbed her and quietly hit her with a stunning spell before disapparating with her unconscious body.
***
When Hermione regained consciousness, she looked around in confusion. It took her several moments to recall what had happened. She was walking home from work, and then…someone grabbed her. She gasped at the realization. Someone grabbed her and took her.
Wherever she was didn’t have a lot of lighting, making it difficult to see her surroundings. She tried to get up, but she felt weak and sluggish from the spell that had been used to capture her.
“Don’t waste your energy. There’s no way out,” a male voice said, startling her. Her heart started to pound in her chest. She was trapped in an unknown location with a man she didn’t know. Was he the one who took her? Was he going to hurt her?
“Who are you?” Hermione asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.
“You don’t recognize my voice? That hurts, Granger,” Draco Malfoy said as he stepped into view.
“Malfoy,” she gasped, unsure of what to make of his presence. “What are you doing here? What am I doing here?”
He scoffed. “I have no idea why you’re here.”
“Fine. Why are you here?”
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Granger,” he said.
“Can you at least tell me where we are?”
“No,” he said simply.
She turned away from him, resting on her side on the uncomfortable cot she had woken up on.
“I don’t know where we are,” he finally said. “My best guess is in a dungeon under one of the Death Eater’s homes.”
Hermione wanted to ask more questions, but she hesitated. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to deal with his clipped answers and his signature arrogant attitude. But she couldn’t stop herself. She had to find out as much as she could.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two months, maybe,” he said. “I’m not sure.”
Hermione didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t seen Draco since the Battle of Hogwarts when he fled with his parents. She’d heard about him in passing over the years, but it was never anything of significance. Nothing that would help her figure out why she was sharing a cell with him.
“To recap, you’ve been here for two months, and you don’t know where here is, but you do know why you’re here. Correct?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you know who is holding you here?”
“I assume it’s the Death Eaters, but I haven’t seen any familiar faces during my stay.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You are a Death Eater.”
“Was,” he corrected.
“What do you mean was? I thought the only way out was death.”
“Obviously not,” Draco said dryly.
She knew better than to engage him, but he was the only one who could possibly answer her questions. The more she knew, the better chance she had to escape and get back to her life and home. But he wasn’t giving her helpful answers.
Once again, Hermione turned away from him. She wanted to use the time she had to think of a solution instead of wasting it on a pointless conversation with the adult version of her childhood nemesis.
“That’s cute,” he prodded. “Turn around and pout when you don’t get your way. That’s a bit childish for your age, isn’t it, Granger?”
“No, Malfoy,” she snapped and turned back to face him. “What’s childish is your evasive answers and refusal to tell me what you know. We could try to work together to get out of here. But I’m sure having a mudblood help you never crossed your mind. Or maybe it’s just this mudblood. You know, the one who was ranked first in our class.”
He visibly flinched at her use of the word mudblood. She noticed and took the opportunity to continue sharing her thoughts.
“I don’t know where I am, or what’s going on. I’m beyond terrified. The least you could do is tell me what to expect. Do they leave you in this cell all day, every day? Do they take you out and torture you for information? If I knew what they wanted from you, I might be able to figure out what they want from me.”
Draco sighed. “Yes, they leave me in the cell all the time. No, they don’t torture me for information. They want me to create potions for them, and that’s what they want from you.”
“What? Why me?” Hermione asked. She knew why, but no one else should have known.
“Didn’t you just go on a tirade about being honest and not wasting time?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Fine,” she acquiesced. “I know why, but how does anyone else know? I thought it was a well-kept secret.”
Draco scoffed. “A well-kept secret? You can’t be serious. The Golden Trio starts working for the Ministry right after the war ends. Potter and Weaselbee are everywhere, while the Golden Girl is nowhere to be seen. Several months later, a new potion is announced. Soon after, Granger is spotted out and about in Wizarding London. She disappears for a few months and resurfaces shortly after another new potion is announced. It wasn’t very hard to figure out. The pattern was obvious.”
“Wait. How do you know any of that?”
She thought Draco would have rolled his eyes if his proper upbringing would have allowed it. “Sound travels well when there’s not much around to absorb it. I overheard someone talking about your acquisition.”
Hermione was dumbfounded. She had no idea anyone was paying such close attention to her comings and goings, or that she had developed a pattern. And she certainly didn’t know someone was planning to kidnap her to utilize her skills.
Before she could say anything, a loud pop startled her. She quickly turned to see a small elf standing in their cell. “Hello, Miss Granger,” the small elf said. “My name is Blinky. Blinky didn’t know you were here, or she would’ve come sooner. You must be hungry. Blinky will bring food.”
“That’s not necessary,” Hermione said, but Blinky snapped her fingers and disappeared.
Blinky reappeared moments later with a tray filled with more food than Hermione could possibly eat.
“Thank you,” Hermione said quietly.
“Blinky will make tea.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Hermione insisted.
“It’s Blinky’s job. Master will be angry with Blinky if Blinky doesn’t do her job.”
“Who is your master?” Hermione asked, hoping for a piece of useful information.
Blinky’s eyes widened. “Oh, Blinky is not allowed to say. Master does not want Miss Granger to know Master’s name.” Blinky looked at Draco. “Tea, sir?”
Draco cleared his throat. “Yes, I’ll have a cup of tea.”
Blinky vanished and reappeared with an elegant tea set. She placed it on a small table Hermione hadn’t noticed. “How does Miss Granger like her tea?” Blinky asked as she filled two cups.
“Two sugars and a splash of milk,” Hermione said.
“Blinky has honey and vanilla,” Blinky informed her.
“Oh, then I suppose honey with a splash of milk and a drop of vanilla,” Hermione said. She thought it was odd that Blinky had exactly what she liked for her tea, but she tried not to read too much into it. A lot of people took their tea with honey and vanilla.
Blinky stepped back when she finished with the tea. She levitated the tray of food from Hermione’s cot to the table. “Blinky will come back when you are finished.” With that, she once again disappeared.
Hermione looked at the table. She wasn’t hungry but thought she should try to eat something since she didn’t know when food would be served again. However, Draco didn’t appear to be underweight or malnourished, so she assumed meals were served regularly. If Draco wasn’t a pompous ass, she could ask him about meals. But he was, so she didn’t.
Hermione took a seat at the table, and Draco joined her. She studied the tray of food before making a few selections, and Draco did the same. After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. He had answers, and she needed them.
“You said you’re here because someone wants you to make potions for them. What kind of potions?”
“It’s just one potion. I’ve been tasked with creating a potion to cure magicalysis.”
“What?” Hermione gasped. “Why? If I remember correctly, magicalysis hasn’t been a problem since the preventative potion was created over fifty years ago.”
“Yes, you’re remembering correctly,” Draco said and sipped his tea. “Magicalysis was thought to be eradicated shortly after the preventative potion was created. However, some magical families were skeptical about the new potion and decided not to take it or give it to their children.”
“The Ministry of Magic requires documentation for everything. If there were unprotected witches and wizards, they would have a record of it.”
“Not if the documentation was false.”
“How would the documentation be false?”
“Simple. The witch or wizard picks up the potions for their family, signs the documentation, and doesn’t give the potion to their family members. Things might be more stringent now, but they weren’t fifty years ago,” he explained.
“Why wouldn’t they give the potion to their family members?” Hermione asked.
Draco shrugged. “I don’t know. My best guess is they thought it would do more harm than good. Think about it. If the Ministry of Magic announced a new potion that would protect against one of the unforgivable curses with only one dose, would you take it?”
“That’s not possible. You can’t create a potion to protect against an unforgivable curse. That’s part of what makes them unforgivable.”
Draco sighed with exasperation. “Hypothetically, then. Would you take it?”
“Of course I would,” Hermione answered immediately.
“Yes, well, I suppose your answer shouldn’t count. If a potion like that ever came to be, it would have likely been created by you.”
“Even if someone else created it, if the Ministry said I should take it, I would.”
“Not everyone shares your blind trust in the Ministry. Some witches and wizards are more skeptical.”
“What harm could possibly come from a potion meant to protect witches and wizards from a horribly debilitating curse?”
“You’re a Potions Master, Granger. Surely, you’ve heard of potions having negative side effects.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“But nothing. Who’s to say the potion didn’t weaken the magical abilities of the drinker?”
“That’s preposterous! People would have known if that was the case.”
“Are you sure about that?” Draco asked with an arched brow. “How would anyone be able to tell if the power of everyone’s magic was reduced equally?”
Hermione couldn’t believe what he was saying. It made no sense to her, and she briefly wondered if his time in the cell had affected his mind. “Why would the Ministry want to reduce the magical powers of everyone in the wizarding community?”
“To make sure they remained more powerful than others, particularly dark wizards and witches,” he said simply.
Hermione didn’t know what to think. His theory made sense to some degree, but she didn’t believe the Ministry would do such a thing. In all the years she had been employed by the Ministry, she’d never heard of anything like what he was saying.
“Are you suggesting the Ministry is corrupt?” Hermione finally asked.
“I’m not suggesting anything.”
Blinky reappeared, interrupting their conversation. “Was Miss Granger pleased with her meal?”
“Yes,” Hermione said and forced herself to smile at the little elf. “Thank you. Everything was wonderful.”
“Oh, thank you, Miss. Blinky’s master will be happy to hear Miss Granger was pleased.”
Hermione frowned in confusion. If Blinky’s master was the one who kidnapped Hermione and planned to hold her hostage until she created a nearly impossible potion, why would he care if she was pleased?
“Does Miss Granger need anything else from Blinky?”
Hermione needed a lot of things, but she didn’t know what Blinky was allowed to provide. After a few moments of internal debate, she decided to ask for what she needed. “Yes, Blinky, I do need a few things. I need a toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as other toiletries. I need clothes to change into, including pajamas, and I need an extra blanket or two. Also, would it be possible to adjust the heat? It’s positively freezing in here.”
“Clothes and toiletries are in the bathroom,” Blinky said and pointed to a door on the far side of the cell. “Blinky will add more wood to the fireplace and will return with blankets.”
While Blinky was gone, Hermione went to the bathroom. She found a pair of pajamas neatly folded on the counter. Beside them was a toothbrush and the same kind of toothpaste she used at home. She took a few minutes to inspect the rest of the room and was sorely disappointed when she didn’t find anything she could use to help her get out of the mess she was in. Deciding to save her energy for future endeavors, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into the pajamas. When she returned to the cell, Blinky was adding two more blankets to her cot.
“Thank you, Blinky.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Granger,” Blinky said with a happy smile. “Blinky will be back in the morning with breakfast, unless you call Blinky during the night. Good night, Miss Granger.”
“Good night, Blinky,” Hermione said, and Blinky disappeared with a pop.
Hermione ignored Draco as she climbed into bed and pulled the blankets on top of her. The air in the cell was much colder than she was used to, and she was ready to be warm again. But as the time passed, it seemed to get colder in the cell. Despite covering her entire body from head to toe, she could not get warm. Covering her head and letting her breath warm the air under her covers had always worked for her before, but it didn’t seem to have any affect.
At some point, she started shivering, followed by her teeth chattering. She was miserable and on the verge of crying. Then, something happened that she never imagined. Without a word, Draco Malfoy came over to her cot and slipped under the covers with her. She opened her mouth to yell at him when he initially pulled the covers back, letting what little heat she had built up escape, but the warmth of his body next to hers had her slamming her mouth shut. With their bodies fully engulfed in the darkness of the blankets, she turned toward him and plastered herself against him. As he wrapped his arms around her, she could have sworn she heard him murmuring something against her hair. She didn’t care what he was saying, as long as he continued to share his warmth. She almost laughed at the thought. Draco Malfoy and warmth weren’t words she ever imagined using together. It was her last conscious thought before she fell asleep, cocooned in his arms.