Chapter 4
Hermione froze, growing immediately wary of this stranger in front of her. She started to pace away from him.
"Are you kidnapping me?" she asked with as much confidence as possible, but unfortunately she didn't have very much to gather. Her voice trembled and wavered.
"I am not the one doing the kidnapping in this situation, Miss Granger," he replied coldly, handing her back the letter. "Somebody has fooled you into coming here."
Hermione stared at his outstretched hand, slightly wary of accepting the letter. Her eyes narrowed.
"Take the letter," he said, his tone slightly less cold than it had been before. "I suggest you hold on to it."
She needed that letter. It was evidence. As soon as she got out here, she would be finding whoever was behind this whole scheme and getting them rightfully condemned.
"I want to know if I can trust you first," said Hermione with a forced firmness.
"I wouldn't have offered you back the letter if I couldn't be trusted."
His tone was as serious as his gaze.
"You never told me your first name," Hermione continued sceptically. "I find that rather suspicious."
"You never asked for it. I was not detaining it from you."
That was true, which annoyed Hermione very much who did not like to be wrong about things.
"Tell me it then," she challenged, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Tom," he replied with a tone of indifference that aggravated Hermione further. "Now take this letter from me. My arm is beginning to hurt."
Hermione snatched it from his hand, being carefully not to make contact with his skin now that her gloves were off. She carefully folded the letter and placed it back into the torn envelope, stashing that too in the extendable bag.
She would not be leaving any of her belongings here to be taken up to room. Or her cell. No, she would be holding onto them all in her little beaded bag. She removed her coat, and stashed it too in the extendable bag.
"An Undetectable Extension Charm," Tom noticed, looking at her as she fit a rather large pea coat into a rather small bag. "How very useful."
"This bag has been with me through thick and thin. It is beyond useful," Hermione replied, swinging the bag over her shoulder and looking into the oval mirror. She smoothed out her simple black business dress and decided to ignore the complete mess of her hair.
She had tried to tame it this morning, but clearly the boat ride had negated all her efforts.
"You look very well, Miss Granger," said Tom. Hermione could see him looking at her through the mirror.
"I don't think lying is a very good way to prove that you are a trustworthy man," said Hermione, looking right back at him through the reflection of the mirror.
"I do not lie, Miss Granger. It is not in my character."
Hermione turned back around.
"Leave your suitcase there." Hermione indicated the table. "You can retrieve it from my room later."
Tom nodded at her and did as such, placing his own overcoat in his suitcase.
He walked back over to her, his arm bent so that his hand was by his stomach and his elbow stuck out.
"Dinner awaits us," he said and Hermione took a second before giving in and holding his bent arm.
They walked down the corridor quickly. Hermione felt her stomach cartwheeling, both due to the proximity between her and Tom, and the fear of what lay behind those double doors.
"Relax your nerves," Tom whispered to her as they came to the end of the corridor. "I could hear your heart beating from a mile away."
Hermione did not have time to reply as the doors in front of her swung open and her mouth dropped ten feet underground.
"What in the world-"
It was a fully and lavishly decorated table, with plates, cutlery, goblets and napkins laid out in perfect proportion. Food of all sorts was laid out in large bowls and platters at the centre, and a large bucket of ice contained multiple bottles of wine.
But this was not what shocked Hermione.
At this table were seated seven people. Five wizards and two witches. Five wizards and two witches that she knew. Very well. Or at least she had done at one point.
Hermione felt as if she would faint.
"Hermione!" exclaimed a very familiar voice. A tall, red-haired boy came running towards her. "'Mione, my goodness. I can't believe it."
He threw himself at her, embracing her tightly. Hermione was so shocked that she did not reciprocate the hug.
"Ron, what on Earth are you doing here?" she asked impatiently, shaking him off her. "What is going on? Why-"
"As if this day could not get anyway worse," came an aristocratic voice from the far end of the table. "Why in Salazar's name is ratty haired Granger here? And who the fuck is that with her?"
Draco Malfoy. His hair was ice-white, and as immaculately styled as ever, as was his notorious fitted black suit.
"I'm going to need some sort of explanation here-" Hermione began.
"Hermione, why don't you come sit down and we can discuss everything over this dinner that has been prepared for us?" suggested the dainty voice of Luna Lovegood. "There is room for you between me and Viktor. I am sure we can get an extra chair for your friend."
"Well this is fucking hilarious," chuckled the derisive voice of Blaise Zabini, who was seated next to Draco. "I'm actually starting to feel glad I fell for this scam."
Hermione glared at Blaise and then looked back over to Tom, who had procured himself a chair in the mean time.
"You know these people?" he asked.
"Yes. Every single one of them," she confessed in a breathy voice as they walked over to the table. "We went to school together, well except for one but he-"
"Herminniny, it is so nice to see you again. I have missed you," said Viktor Krum, standing up to push Hermione's chair close to the table as she sat down.
Tom placed his chair in between Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones.
"Who is that friend of yours?" Viktor asked, looking suspiciously at Tom.
"He isn't my friend," she replied. "We simply arrived here together."
Viktor Krum looked particularly pleased as he gave her a big, goofy smile.
"Am I the only one who thinks we have better things to be discussing right now than making small talk with Granger?" said Draco in a loud, mocking voice. "Like maybe how the fuck we're going to escape captivity?"
"Hear, hear, mate," said Blaise raising his a goblet of wine he had just poured himself. "What bullshit excuse did they make up in your letter, Granger?"
"I doubt it was the Quidditch retreat I thought I was attending," said Ron glumly.
"I don't think it was a press conference for the Quibbler either," added Luna.
"I really thought Eton wanted to take me on as headmaster," said Justin, shaking his head. "Should've known when they asked me to Floo here."
So they had all personalised received letters, she gathered. And every single one of them had fallen for it. They had all been equally foolish.
"Whoever did this clearly knew us all very well," reflected Hermione. "I was called here for an Elfish rights conference and now I'm going to miss an entire week of work."
The prospect of being behind at work really did unsettle her, but she imagined that there were bigger issues at hand.
"Of course you were," snorted Blaise Zabini. "Do you do anything else with your time other than playing dress up with Draco's old slaves?"
"Sensitive topic, mate," Draco sniggered.
Ron clenched his fists and glared at Blaise.
"Leave Hermione alone, you bully," said Ron. "Ignore him, Mione, he's not worth it. He's just winding you up."
"Really, Weaselbee?" drawled Draco. "Don't you think it's rather rich coming from you? I don't remember you being particularly supportive of Granger's spew club back at school either."
"S.P.E.W.!" exclaimed Hermione, who felt as though every single nerve in her body had been tested that evening. "Not spew, Malfoy."
"I've changed since then, Malfoy," said Ron, his cheeks glowing red.
"Have you, Weasel? Aren't you still wearing your great grandfather's hand-me-downs?"
"And still living with your parents. How is Molly by the way?" added Blaise, sharing Draco's mirth.
"At least I have two parents!" Ron retorted, so angry that steam was almost coming out of his ears, as if he'd taken a large dose of Pepperup Potion.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, kicking him under the table.
"Too far," squeaked Justin, but Blaise only laughed.
"I don't believe this conversation is the best use of our time at present," interrupted Tom, rather strategically, his tone dripping with the same cold civility it always had.
He received a nod of agreement from Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"And who exactly do you think you are?" asked Draco, who was sitting opposite Tom, feeling particularly irritated that this stranger had interrupted his conversation.
Hermione was in disbelief at the lack of cordiality among the group of them and opened her mouth to speak, but Tom shook his head at her. Perhaps it was just a natural response to an incredibly stressful situation. After all, Malfoy had never responded well to things not going his way.
"Who I am does not matter in this present situation," said Tom flatly. Draco narrowed his eyes at him critically.
"I find it hard to believe that who you are matters in any situation," Draco retorted mockingly, eying his particularly common looking suit with distate.
Tom's lip stretched into an eldritch smile as he assessed Draco with more intrigue than he had done before. Draco scowled back.
"What matters right now is finding the culprit," said Justin, steering the conversation off the side road it had fallen into.
"No!" argued Susan with a shrill voice, her face looking horrified. "We just need to get out of here. As soon as possible. I don't care who's done it as long as we're safe."
One or two people nodded in agreement.
"Well I don't know about you lot, but I'm fucking starving," said Blaise. "I was one of the first ones to get here as well."
"Why didn't you just eat then?" asked Hermione with a scowl.
"Such an attitude," he chuckled and continued mockingly: "I tried, Granger dear, I tried. But the wards on the dishes were only lifted when you and mystery man walked in."
Hermione continued to glare at him as Blaise began to transfer very large portions of each dish onto his plate. The others all followed suit, save herself and Tom. Hermione herself was absolutely starving, but in attempt to prove a point she sat back in her chair, arms crossed tightly.
"Harmonnie, are you not eating? Do you not like the food?" asked Viktor.
"I'm no picky eater; I just think we have certain priorities to put first," she replied. But then she looked around to see everybody stuffing their faces with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, chips and she felt her stomach rumble. "But I suppose a little dinner first can't hurt."
She took a few pieces of beef, two Yorkshire puddings and a generous serving of roasted potatoes, carrots and parsnips, dousing the lot in thick gravy. It smelled heavenly.
Hermione turned to address Luna.
"Zabini said something about being one of the first people to get here. Did everyone arrive at different times?"
Luna swallowed the mouthful of Brussels sprouts she had been chewing.
"Susan arrived first. Must have been a terrible shock for her, you know, to be all alone. The next arrivals were all staggered. Took a while for all of us to arrive one by one on that small wooden boat. Well, except for you and your friend. You're the only people that arrived together."
Hermione's brow furrowed at this. She had assumed that they all arrived in pairs. How unbelievably strange.
"Nobody having the coleslaw?" asked Justin, scanning everyone's faces. They all looked at him in disgust. "Very well, more for me," he said with a chuckle and dolloped three spoonfuls onto the side of his plate.
"Ooh, ooh, I know," said Ron, his face lit up in the epitome of a 'lightbulb moment', accidentally pouring gravy all down his shirt. "We could fly out of here on brooms."
"Got nine brooms with you by any chance, Weasley?" asked Zabini snidely.
"No, but we could conjure or transfigure them."
This did not sound like such a terrible idea, even to Hermione whose hatred for flying was unparalleled.
Any hope that the witches and wizards were feeling came to an end with Viktor Krum's next words.
"I tried that just before dinner. The broom can be transfigured but it cannot be flown past the wards. I was sent shooting backwards."
Everybody at the table groaned.
"And the fireplaces?" asked Hermione. "Not a single one is connected to the Floo network?"
Susan Bones shook her head.
"When I first got here, I located every single fireplace. None of them had even been expanded to the size required for the Floo network," she said, a dismal expression on her face.
"So the only way out is with that wooden boat?" Hermione noted more than asked. "Which we cannot summon in any way?"
Everyone at the table nodded.
"Bloody hell," she whispered. The table was silent for a few moments.
"Well at least the sick fuck that organised this is feeding us well," said Blaise shrugging his shoulders and levitating a platter of cupcakes over to him. He dropped five into his plate and took a bite of the first one. "This buttercream is truly decadent."
Draco shook his head at his friend. "I'm going to need something stronger than this wine if I'm to put up with you for a whole week, mate."
Hermione didn't often agree with Draco Malfoy, but this was one of those rare instances. She wasn't much of a drinker, being more of a raging workaholic than alcoholic, but she could do with some wine. She levitated one of the open bottles over to her and filled her goblet.
"Inspired you have I, Granger?" asked Draco with a raised brow.
"I don't tend to take inspiration from ferrets," she replied, tipping a large sip of wine down her throat.
Ron burst out laughing.
"Good one, Mione," he said through his laughter that quickly turned into hiccups, and then soon into a coughing fit. Malfoy rolled his eyes and cast a silencing charm on him. Ron began spluttering silently, shaking his fist at Draco who was grinning devilishly.
Tom wiped the side of his mouth with his napkin and folded it back onto his lap.
"Do you know of anyone who has it out for all of you? A common enemy?" Tom asked.
The seven of them (not including Ron who was in the process of downing a whole goblet of water upside down in attempt to try and get rid of his silent cough) all looked at one another, searching for ideas but they found nothing and so shook their heads.
"We kind of are our own enemies, to a certain extent." said Justin. "All four houses from Hogwarts are represented in this group."
"Yeah, and Draco here is the Hufflepuff, if you couldn't already tell," said Blaise, receiving a slap against the temple from his blond friend. "Ow, Malfoy, that hurt like a bi-"
"Say that again and I'll hex you into a nayword," Draco threatened.
"Sorry mum," Blaise joked, holding his hands up in surrender. "Draco, you are the scariest Slytherin to have ever walked the halls of Hogwarts, second only to Salazar himself. Please don't hurt me."
"Much better," said Draco with a small smile.
"Well that's that one out the bag," Hermione joked to Tom who sighed in solemn agreement.
"I still don't see how us finding who's behind all this is going to benefit us in any way. Can't we save that until we're out of this dreary mansion?" asked Susan.
"Sue, we're stuck here anyway," said Justin. "We might as well try to figure it out."
Ron finally managed to end the coughing fit and remove the silencing charm. He shoved a slice of chocolate cake down his throat.
"Susan, pass me the lamb chops, will you," Ron spluttered, his mouth full of chocolate ganache.
"Aren't you on desert already?" answered Susan, looking horrified.
"I've always wanted to try lamb chops and ice cream but mum would never let me. Probably the only bonus to being held hostage in an isolated mansion," said Ron, licking his chocolate covered fingers.
"That's so gross," Susan giggled.
"Such common folk behaviour," muttered Draco shaking his head as he neatly ate the last bite of his blueberry cheesecake.
"Your friend Zucchini over there literally just shoved three cupcakes down his fat gob all at once and you didn't say anything," Ron retorted, lamb juice and vanilla ice cream drooling down his chin.
"Such is the modern world," replied Draco contemptuously. "The elite turn a blind eye on the elite."