Chapter 4
Silk Prison
Hermione blinked her eyes open groggily. She tried pushing herself up, thinking it was strange her hand met a soft mattress and not cold stone. A soft pop sounded. “Missus is awake.” squeaked a voice. “Missus is needing her rest.”
Her head spun with thoughts, she tried reaching out mentally to grab one. “Here Missus.” a small large-eyed house was before her. “Drink this, please, Missus.” Hermione blinked at her. A snap of the elf’s fingers and a small bottle floated up, tipping into Hermione’s mouth. Hermione laid back down, warm sleep washing over her. Mipsy she thought. She remembered the elf’s name was Mipsy, just as sleep took her.
—--
Hermione woke clean, warm and cocooned in what must be the softest sheets she had ever felt. She blinked up at the blue tufted fabric of a four-poster bed. She briefly questioned why she was in the Ravenclaw dormitories before reality flooded back to her. She heard the crackle and pop of logs on a fire. Turning her head, she saw a fire crackling in an ornately carved fireplace. Carved into the top, Ravenclaw’s house crest. The whole room was an antiquarian’s dream, carved wood paneling and furniture surrounded her. The posts on the bed looked to be hand-carved with ravens, nifflers, and graphorns. She wondered why Malfoy and Theo, two slytherins, had taken her to a Ravenclaw’s home. She pushed the white duvet off her torso, sliding her blue silk-clad legs out to the side of the bed. Maybe she had reacted wrongly. Maybe they were working with the Order after all. Standing, she looked down at her toes. Someone had clipped her toenails while she had slept. She shuddered at the thought of Malfoy or Theo doing it.
She looked to the bedside table, only an unlit candlestick, no wand. She turned slowly taking in every flat surface of the room, no wand. Her chest started to tighten. Maybe she had just traded one prison for another.
Thoughts racing, the room started to spin. If this was an Order safe house, surely other Order members would be here. She made her way through the castle, halls empty of people. Opening the front door, she sucked in a breath, as the drawbridge magically descended in front of her. The back of her brain processed that at least she wasn’t completely trapped.
Reaching the end of the moat, she paused, looked out onto the moonlight bathed grounds, and ran. She had no destination in mind, just that she needed to get away. Hermione’s heart beat wildly in her chest. The sound of her beating heart and strangled breathing drowning out all thought. She just ran. Her bare feet skimming over grass, rocks, and mud, until she couldn’t possibly run anymore.
Hermione bent over trying to catch her breath. She dry heaved into the grass. Having almost no exercise for the past four months, running now had not been her finest idea. She looked up, breaths steadying. Before her was a lake. Trees dappled the the far edges and beyond that, farm lands as far as the eye could see.
Walking down to the edge of the lake, she sat. She couldn’t go back. She just needed time to think, to adjust. She was the brightest witch of her age after all. She would come up with something. A cool breeze caused her to shiver. She was in silk pajamas. Not the best for an escape. She wiggled her toes in the grass. And no shoes. If she did make it to a muggle town, she would look like an absolute nutter. She would need to go back. She needed a wand. She would go back for a wand and then leave. In front of her appeared her dragon friend. No she thought sourly, not my friend, Malfoy’s patronus. The little dragon cocked its head to the side and blinked back out of existence. Gone to report back her location back to its owner.
Sighing she readied herself to stand and go back, when she noticed the first pink hues on the horizon of a sunrise. How many times had she sat in the dark, longing to feel the sun on her skin? Her plans could wait just a bit longer. And so Hermione sat, watching the sun crest the horizon. The pink sky blending to shades of orange. And finally, blue skies as the sun made its full glorious appearance.
At some point, Theo appeared and took a seat in the grass beside her. She didn’t say anything to him and was content in his responding silence. Hermione relished the warmth of the sun on her skin. She had guessed that they sat watching the sun make it’s lazy ascent into the sky for hours. She knew with the suns current position, it must be nearing noon. When she was little her father had taught her to tell time by then sun. The thought of her father reminded her.
“Theo?” she started.
Theo turned to look at her.
“I, uh, I am sorry about your father.”
Theo looked at her for a minute, Hermione was unable to read the expression on his face. Shocking her slightly he asked, “Do you regret killing him?”
Opening and closing her mouth then whispering regretfully, “No.”
Shrugging as though it was the most normal thing in the world he said, “Neither do I.”
Hermione sat in stunned silence, watching a bird swoop down over the lake to catch a jumping fish in its beak.
“There was an arranged marriage between my parents. Pureblood 28 families and all. Can’t be too careful. They don’t want to dilute the magic, but they had also learned the consequences of inbreeding leading to squibs. So arranged marriages. My mother, she was the last branch in the Rowena Ravenclaw family tree. I think the Notts took some twisted pleasure in that.
I begged the hat first year… not Ravenclaw… not Ravenclaw. He used to beat her you know, my mother. And I knew that if I was in Ravenclaw, it would just be another excuse for him. Sometimes in the morning I would see tremors in her hands at the breakfast table. It wasn’t until fourth year, after lessons with Mad Eye Moody, that I knew. That I, uh, knew he was cricioing her as well.” Plucking a few blades of grass and sighing he continued, “So, no. I am not sad that he is dead.”
Folding her hands in her lap, Hermione says, “I am glad you told me Theo.” She looks him into the eyes for the first time that day. “Because I was lying when I said I was sorry.”
Theo looks at her shocked and then throws his head back in laughter. Wiping tears from eyes, belly shaking with laughter he says, “Draco was right. You really are insane.”
“That prick.” voice turning angry. “What does he know?”
“Hermione”, voice sobering. “Its not like that.”
“Not like what?” she sneers. “Not like he crucio’d me? Not like he sat and watched his aunt carve this into me?” She raised the silk sleeve, revealing the slur carved into her arm. “Not like he spent a year trying to kill Dumbledore ?” she hissed out.
Theo looked down guiltily at her arm. “Hermione”, he began softly. “Its really not like that. Its- its- its actually really complicated”, he finished lamely.
“Complicated?” she condescended. Hermione pushed her sleeve down, shielding it from Theo’s pitying eyes. “What? You want me to believe that Draco Malfoy , that he’s what? Part of the Order?” disbelief dripped from every word.
“No. I wouldn’t say he is a part of the Order.”
Hermione nodded. Theo having confirmed what she already knew.
“BUT” he continued on quickly. “Draco is working with someone in the Order.”
“With someone?” she asked doubtfully.
“Yes. With someone.”
“Hmmm. And I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who?”
“Right. You’ll have to ask Draco about that.”
“Malfoy?”, she guffawed. “Not bloody likely to have a civilized conversation with Malfoy.”
Theo chuckles, stands, brushing the grass from his trousers, and holds out his hand to her. “Let’s head back. You’re starting to burn.”
She stares up at him not moving, not taking his hand. “There’s a spell for that, you know, to protect from the sun.”
Theo moves his offered hand back into his pocket and shrugs. “Not any that I know.”
“If you let me use your wand, I can show you how.”
“I can’t do that.”
She huffs out a laugh, “Why? You don’t trust me?”
“Draco told me about the, uh, the bug squishing incident?”
“He what?” Hermione scrambles indignantly to her feet.
Theo mimes squishing a bug beneath the heel of his shoe.
She turns to leave, stomping back towards the castle. “Never going to let me live that down, the little prat.”
Jogging to catch up with her, a grin on his face, “Just promise me, if you do decide to squish Draco, you’ll let me be there to watch.”
—--
Sweat was forming on her brow, by the time the castle loomed ahead of her. She had kept a brisk pace so as not to have Theo walk beside her. It infuriated her to know, that he probably could have kept up with her if he wanted to, but that he was purposely giving her space. It was making it hard for her to hold onto her anger. Stopping at the edge of the moat’s bridge she waited for the drawbridge to magically lower. When it didn’t, she looked back. Theo grinned and muttered an indiscernible spell and the drawbridge creaked down. With as much dignity as one could in bare feet and silk pajamas, she stomped across and into the castle.
She hesitated in the entryway unsure if she was ready to go back to her room and unable to recall exactly where her room was. Theo spoke behind her, “There’s a library to your left.”
She whirled around, clenching her fists, nose held in the air. “I would like to talk to Malfoy. It’s important I get back to the Order posthaste.”
Theo tried to hide his grin. “Yes, well, uhm, I will be sure to let him know of your…request.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, “I need to speak to him immediately.”
“I am afraid that is not possible.”
“And why is that?”
“He is currently away on task.”
“Task?” she crossed her arms and tilted her head.
Theo shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. A task for our lord.”
Scowling she asked, “And when will he be done with this task ?”
“I am not sure, but when he returns I will relay your request posthaste .” sarcasm dripped from the last word and he gestured to the door on the left. “Now the library, if you please, I think I remember you being fond of libraries.”
—--
Theo walked Hermione back to her room. She had spent the evening intimidated by the vast collection of books, and instead chose to flip through back copies of Witch Weekly . She had found herself overwhelmed, unable to choose where to start after months without books. At some point, a covered tray of food appeared. It reminded her of the way food had appeared at random in her cell. She wondered if Mipsy had sent this as well or if there were other elves in the castle. She wished Mipsy to visit so she could thank her for all of her help.
As the last rays of the sun filtered through the windows, Theo had appeared claiming a gentleman’s escort back to her room. She bristled at the idea of needing an escort, but acquiesced because she didn’t like the idea of wandering the halls until she found her room.
Stopping he gestured to the door, “Your room.”
Pushing the door open she stopped up short. It was dark. The sun having disappeared completely on their walk. Her heart squeezed, throat beginning to close.
“Lumos” candlelight bathed the room and Hermione forced herself to walk through the doorway as though nothing had happened.
“Goodnight Hermione.” he turned to leave.
“Theo?” she whispered.
He turned back to her. “Yes?”
“Don’t-” she whispered. “Don’t turn the lights off please.”
His expression softened, “Of course.” He lingered, hand of the door handle. “You can call for Mipsy if you need anything.”
The door clicked shut just as the first tear trickled down her cheek.