She wasn’t thinking about suicide.

She wasn’t thinking In the meanwhile she would prepare the sopophorous
about the way her head still throbbed; as though bean. She would use twenty. Crushing them under her
Voldemort had done permanent damage to her mind. silver dagger’s blade before extracting the juice.
She wasn’t thinking about how sounds hurt. Or how Feeling the pressure in the knuckle of her thumb as
her hands had started spasming because of the clock she bore down. She imagined the sensation of the
again. Or that the way Voldemort had forced her to bean giving way under her blade. Once the juice was
re-live being raped had felt even more traumatic than added she would stir the potion clockwise twelve
the times when it happened. She wasn’t thinking times with a silver brewing rod and then eight times
about how she was never going to escape. counterclockwise with an ash rod. Then the potion
would be covered and left to brew on a low
She wasn’t thinking about anything but carefully
temperature for seventy-three hours. The slow
ripping up The Daily Prophet as steadily as her
brewing was necessary to nullify the somnolent
spasming fingers would allow her to.
properties of the sopophorous juice. The potion would
turn pale green. In the seventy-fourth hour she would
That was all.
add minced murtlap tentacles, a crushed squill,
It was the only thing she was thinking about. valerian, and powdered ashwinder eggshells. She
would bring it to a rapid boil for thirty seconds and
When she had made several perfect squares she set then use a cooling charm to reduce the temperature
to folding them. She started with origami cranes. to just above freezing. The potion would become
midnight blue with an aqueous consistency. Then she
She couldn’t remember exactly where she had learned
would drip syrup of hellebore over the surface. One
to make them. The ability felt like muscle memory,
drop for ten slow clockwise and then counterclockwise
creating the precise creases in a specific order that
stir rotations. Her arm would tire slightly. Thirty drops
she didn’t recall memorizing.
in all until the potion thickened and stuck to the ash
stir rod. Stir it three times with a silver rod and bring
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it to simmer for five minutes before removing it from “There’s nothing to do. Having paper I could use
the heat and allowing it to drop to room temperature would be nice. I’m guessing that I’ll be refused if I ask
without magic. It would become dark grey and for a ball of string or yarn.”
syrupy. It would yield twenty-five doses.
The elf nodded that Hermione’s guess was accurate.
She brewed it in her mind every night. Adjusting
“Topsy is to keep this room clean. But the Mudblood
quantities and techniques. Revising the order of added
can be using the paper until the next paper is
ingredients. By the fifth night she was almost positive
coming,” the elf said.
that she had figured the entire recipe out.
“Fair enough,” Hermione said in agreement. Not that
On the sixth day she forced herself to go outside
she had any choice in the matter.
alone for fear that otherwise Malfoy would show up
and order her to.
Hermione read the day’s newspaper twelve times
before tearing it into neat squares. She had spent the
Conquering her agoraphobia, she had decided was her
previous night going through a list of things she
first priority. Any schemes involving Malfoy would wait
thought she might be permitted to have. She had
until she could manage going outdoors consistently.
assumed that she couldn’t have knitting needles.
Deep down she suspected she was merely deluding Being restricted from yarn had been a guess, although
herself and avoiding him. But she was at a loss as to where Malfoy worried she’d hang herself without a
how to trick him into killing her when she couldn’t portrait catching her seemed questionable—
even talk to him without his permission. As for
Maybe outside. She’d have to look more carefully at
seducing him, per his suggestion, well, the idea was
the trees on the estate… She brushed aside such
so absurd it was almost laughable.
schemes to save for a later date.
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she looked down at her feet she didn’t feel even the The next day he showed up in her room, pinned her
faintest flicker of optimism. to the bed and tore through her memories. He barely
spoke to her. When he was done he simply turned on
Although it would be nice not to have her feet ache
his heel and walked out.
for hours each day.
Hermione had a dream two days later of Alastor
The things she found herself being grateful for were
Moody standing in front of her in a small storage
truly horrifying.
closet. His eye spinning around suspiciously. It was as
though they had been underwater, the words
The house elf appeared again to take away her dishes
exchanged were indecipherable. He had looked at her
and asked if she wanted anything.
intensely as he said something, watching her reaction.
“Am I allowed to keep the newspapers after I’ve read She remembered feeling skeptical but determined.
them?” Hermione asked cautiously. Moody said something else and Hermione shook her
head. He nodded sharply and when he turned to leave
The question was apparently not one the elf had been he had been stone-faced. But his eye as he looked
prepared to answer. It shuffled its feet and seemed to back had hesitation in it. Alastor never hesitated.
be considering. After Alastor had gone she stood alone for several
minutes.
“Topsy thinks so. It will just be being banished after,”
the elf said after several minutes. “Why is the She didn’t know what the dream meant. She tried not
Mudblood wanting them?” to dwell on it.
Hermione shrugged. Hermione explored the main wing of the manor. The
portraits were apparently strictly forbidden from
speaking to her. They watched her with a gimlet eye
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but never uttered a word. She explored the hedge Finding Malfoy at all considerate was disconcerting.
maze until she could walk through it with her eyes She stared at the boots for several more minutes.
closed. She couldn’t quite manage anywhere else
She dismissed the notion. If Astoria owned a lapdog it
outdoors unless she crept along the side of the manor.
would assuredly be fitted with a jeweled collar.
Open spaces were still very difficult. She couldn’t even
She was just a well-shod and cloaked pet surrogate
peel herself off the wall when walking down the larger
for him to fuck.
hallways. And she could barely stand to set foot inside
the ballroom in the main wing of the house.
He was probably worried that if she got frostbite he’d
have to interact with her again.
After ten days Healer Stroud arrived again to see if
Hermione was pregnant. Hermione was not. Hermione
And, given that she was allegedly intended to bear
had been exercising aggressively in her room to
three children before she departed the estate she was
funnel her rage. Healer Stroud was pleased to see the
presumably expected to live at Malfoy Manor for at
improvement in Hermione’s physical condition.
least four years. Possibly five or six.
The next day when Hermione entered her room
Considering how spartan Malfoy Manor seemed to be
shivering from her walk she found Malfoy there,
Malfoy apparently adhered to a strict “buy it once, buy
waiting for her in full Death Eater regalia.
it for life,” philosophy. The fact he’d had to buy her
twenty pairs of shoes in two months probably was
“Fancy an outing, Mudblood?”
something he found morally offensive.
Hermione stared at him, taking in what he was
If the boots had been given to her earlier she might
wearing. His face was an expressionless mask as he
have felt hopeful about using them to escape. But as
approached her.
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Hermione read the paper forward and backward. She “Did you forget?” he asked, his silver eyes flickering.
looked for any patterns. Or codes. Just in case. “Two months. No pregnancy. The Dark Lord is eager
to see you.”
The next morning she found a pair of boots in the
wardrobe among her shoes. Malfoy’s “present.” She He gripped her by the arm before she could back
had been wearing through the soles of her flimsy away and apparated.
slippers every few days and walking in the snow had
her toes nearly frostbitten on several occasions.
The boots were dragon-hide. When she put them on
they resized themselves to her perfectly. She could
tell they had enchantments woven into them to keep
her feet at a perfect temperature. She could walk a
hundred miles in them and never get a blister.
She stared at them in confusion. They
were—excessive.
Much like the cloak he’d provided.
Perhaps Malfoy didn’t even know how to buy normal
shoes. He just assumed that all boots were supposed
to come in dragon-hide with temperature control and
cushioning charms.
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 The copy of the newspaper corroborated the date.
21 retpahC She felt afraid to reach out and touch it, half
expecting for it to burn her. An extra twist of spite.
Hesitantly she rested a fingertip on it. Nothing
happened.
She sat down and read it front to back. Savouring
T he hall that Voldemort resided in was damp words.
and warm like a reptile cage. Somewhere Reading.
underground. The walls that she could see in the
She had missed it. The last time when she had read
darkness were stone with no windows.
The Daily Prophet it had been so rushed.
Far underground.
She read it slowly through once. And then again. And
The air was thick and sour. Stale. Putrid with dark again. Every word.
magic.
It was mostly trash. Thinly veiled propaganda. The
Hermione broke out in a cold sweat and Malfoy political news was nearly unintelligible amid all the
dragged her forward as she fought to escape. It spin. Hermione had never found quidditch interesting
wasn’t a conscious choice. Every cell in her body but she avidly read through the game recaps since
screamed for her to get away. they seemed to be the only thing accurately reported
on. The society pages went on and on about Astoria.
Her name was dropped in every single society piece.
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“That—would be nice,” said Hermione unwilling to let Malfoy’s hand on her was like a vice. She couldn’t
herself feel hopeful about it. wrench herself free. He barely seemed to notice that
she was writhing in his grip.
“Is the Mudblood wanting anything else?”
“My Lord,” he said with a respectful tone as he bowed.
Hermione’s mouth twitched. She almost asked the elf
“I have brought the Mudblood. As you requested.”
to call her Hermione. She hadn’t had anyone call her
Hermione since—since— His words were punctuated by Hermione’s panicked
stuttering breaths as she tried to quell her panic. A
It was hard to remember.
crushing weight suddenly bore down on her back and
forced her prostrate upon the moist stone floor. She
But she wasn’t sure she wanted to know whether the
could barely breathe under the pressure and fought to
elf had specific instructions about only calling her
drag oxygen down her throat as her jaw was ground
Mudblood. It probably did. It was easier not to let
into the hard floor. The sound rattled in her ears.
herself even ask.
“Oh, yes,” Voldemort murmured in a caressing
“Nothing else,” she said looking out the window.
whisper. “Stroud mentioned she was not yet
The elf popped away. gestating.”
A calendar had appeared on the wall and a copy of Hermione rolled her panicked eyes upward so she
the Daily Prophet was on her bed that afternoon when could see from where she was pinned on the ground.
she returned, shivering, from her walk. Voldemort was reclining in a large stone throne
staring down at her indolently.
December 25th. Seeing it on the wall left her frozen
for several minutes. He waved a hand, it had dull scales on it.
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“Bring her forward,” Voldemort ordered. When Hermione finished picking at her food an elf
appeared to take the dishes away.
The weight crushing Hermione into the ground was
released and two attendants pulled her up off the “Master is wanting to know if you is needing
floor and dragged her up the steps of the dais, forcing anything,” it said, avoiding her gaze.
her to her knees at Voldemort’s feet.
“A calendar that indicates the date, if that is possible.
Voldemort didn’t sit up. He turned his head slightly And—a book, about anything.”
and wiped the corner of his mouth. Hermione
The house elf looked uncomfortable.
squeezed her eyes shut but he drove into her mind.
His mind inside hers felt like a branding iron. He was
“I can be getting you a calendar. But Mistress was
burning her. Damaging her. She was screaming and
sayin the Mudblood isn’t to sully any Malfoy books and
screaming until her lungs and throat gave out and she
had them hexed so theys would be burning your dirty
just shook in agony.
blood.”
Hermione had not realised how much her shock from
Hermione looked away as her chest tightened. She bit
being removed the cell had dulled everything. She
her lip so it wouldn’t tremble. Of course Malfoy or
hadn’t remember it hurting so much. Or perhaps
Astoria would do something spiteful like specifically
Voldemort was feeling vindictive due to her lack of
restrict her from reading.
pregnancy.
“Nevermind then,” she said quietly.
It was like having her consciousness flayed.
“You could be having the Daily Prophet, if you is
She didn’t know how long it lasted. Forever. She felt
wanting it,” the elf offered.
like she should have died several times along the way.
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“I have no way of knowing what the date is,” she said Voldemort tried breaking through the magic around
in a flat voice. “Perhaps giving me a calendar could be her locked memories and when he finally gave up he
an additional present for yourself.” proceeded to ravage all her recent memories. Her
arrival at Malfoy Manor, the first time Malfoy raped her
He stared at her.
in his room. And the second time, and the third and
the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. He made her
“It didn’t occur to you to just ask an elf?” he asked
relive all ten of them as though he were curious to
after a moment.
see how Malfoy did it. Her panic attacks. Her
Hermione stared at him and felt unwanted tears of conversations with Malfoy. Her limited interactions
humiliation prick at the corner of her eyes. Her mouth with Astoria. Her questions and suspicions and
twisted as she fought not to snarl or cry. schemes. He pored over the months with excessive
cruelty and curiosity.
“I can’t speak unless spoken to,” she said stiffly.
He razed her mind until she hung limp. Her muscles
Malfoy froze and was silent for a surprisingly long too worn to even shake.
time. An indecipherable expression rippled across his
face before he blinked and laughed faintly. Finally he withdrew and the hands gripping Hermione
allowed her to drop to the ground, spasming.
“And here I thought it was an elf rights thing,” he said
with a smirk. His eyes still looked slightly frozen. “I’ll “You knew the Mudblood in school,” Hermione heard
send an elf later and see if you can speak if it Voldemort say after a minute.
initiates.”
“Indeed, My Lord,” Malfoy said with a faint tone of
He spun on his heel and walked out without another derision. “One of Potter’s favourites.”
word.
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“She dreams of your death quite desperately. More When her body finally became convinced that there
than she dreams even of mine,” Voldemort said with was absolutely nothing in her stomach left to expel
amusement. Hermione crawled into bed and cradled her head in
her arms.
“A sign that she has a sense of what is even possible,”
Malfoy drawled. She wasn’t sure when two days passed. She slept like
a dead thing and couldn’t have said whether it had
Voldemort nudged Hermione with his toe. Her vision
been hours or days when she finally woke without a
kept wobbling and then vanishing intermittently when
migraine.
she tried to focus. It wasn’t darkness. It was as
though her eyes didn’t know how to see anymore. While she was poking at breakfast Malfoy strode in.
“She is clever. I trust you are keeping her well in She glared at him sullenly from the bed.
hand, High Reeve.”
“Season's greetings, Mudblood,” he drawled.
“Of course, My Lord. You know I succeed in whatever
She stared at him in mild surprise.
you set me to.”
“As a Christmas gift to myself, I have decided to end
“Indeed,” Voldemort said. “It has been a long time
the weekly ritual of replacing all your shoes. It should
since you have caused me any disappointment.”
arrive tomorrow. Please do not interpret it as a sign of
“I am vowed to you, My Lord.” my affection,” he said and chuckled for a moment.
Then his face grew cold as he walked closer. “It’s been
“You are aware that she is dangerous,” Voldemort said
three days and you haven’t left your room. I hope
and Hermione felt magic suddenly drag her up off the
you’re not going to inconvenience me.”
floor and she hung suspended as he stared at her, his
Hermione felt too ill to feel afraid of Malfoy.
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“Do you want to?” she said.​ face twisted with distaste. “She is lying in wait to find
a weakness to exploit.”
He stared at her as though he were considering
“You have had her carefully caged. You know I will not
something. Then his eyes grew flinty and he stepped
fail you,” Malfoy said respectfully.
back.
“I want her pregnant,” Voldemort said with a forceful
“Why would I want to talk to you about anything,
hiss. Then, as though it were an afterthought, he
Mudblood?” he said coldly, grasping her by the arm
added, “It concerns me that the Malfoy line is without
and dragging her down the hallway to the apparition
an heir.”
point.
“Of course, My Lord, Astoria and I have been careful
Hermione’s brain still felt crushed and damaged.
to follow all of Healer Stroud’s instructions,” said
When Malfoy apparated back into her room the
Malfoy.
squeezing sensation on her head made her cry out
and collapse, vomiting as soon as she reappeared.
“Very well,” Voldemort said, sinking further into his
throne and dabbing the corner of his mouth again.
He stood stiffly, staring down at her and banished the
“Return her to the manor then.”
mess from the floor while she tried to fight off the
endless waves of nausea.
Malfoy bowed and then gripped Hermione by her arm
from where she hung suspended. The magic holding
“Go to bed. You have two days to recover before I’ll
her released and she fell against him. He grimaced in
expect you to be walking again,” he said before
obvious distaste and proceed to drag her out of the
turning to leave. She would have glared at him if she
hall and away from the cloying, oppressive nest of
could have interrupted her body’s compulsive dry
dark magic.
heaving.
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When they were halfway down some hallway Malfoy focused on the question.​
shoved her against a wall and released her. She slid
halfway down it and raised her shaking hands up to “Yes,” he said it in a clipped tone.​
wipe away the tears crusting on her cheeks. She could
still barely see through the blinding pain in her mind. “Your aunt?”​
“Drink this,” he commanded, slipping a vial of a
“Hmm,” he hummed in confirmation, his eyes
common pain relief potion into her hand. “Otherwise
narrowed.​
you’ll black out when I apparate you and it will add
considerably to your recovery time.”​
They were both staring at each other intently. He felt
like the only thing she could see.
She swallowed it, fairly certain he wasn’t going to
poison her.​
“Not the only thing you learned that summer,” she
“Did that ever happen to you?” she found herself noted. His eyes widened incrementally.
asking, when the pain began easing so she could
speak again and his face slowly swam into focus.
“Are you needing a confession for something? Should
Malfoy eyed her for a moment. “More than once,” he I tell you everything I’ve done?” he asked in a careful
said. “My training was rigorous.”​ drawl. He drew closer so that he towered above her.
She forced herself not to shrink or cower down further
She nodded.
than she was already slumped. She stared up into his
“Was that after fifth year?” she asked looking up at eyes. A question rose to her lips and she felt
him. The pain seemed to fade somewhat when she somehow that it was vital that she ask it.
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