The Price of Harry Potter

Chapter Three: The Terms

The drawing room door shut with a muffled thud. She hovered near it uncomfortably.

"Please, Miss Granger. Take a seat. We are civilised people."

We are? I suppose that depends on how you define civilised.

She perched on the edge of a cream coloured armchair. The cushion was so firm that it did not move under her weight. Lucius settled with ease into a chair facing her. Somehow he managed to lounge on the uncomfortable furniture as if it was the most natural, relaxing thing in the world.

The expectant silence stretched to breaking point. What does he want me to say? Is he just trying to make me feel off-balance? Well it's working...

"Thank you for a delicious dinner, Mr Malfoy."

He waved her comment away with his hand, but it seemed that she had made an appropriate start to the conversation. "I am glad you enjoyed it. I don't believe my son appreciates the importance of a family eating together regularly."

With you as his family I am sure he does not!

But she didn't have to reply, Lucius continued. "I understand that during your fortuitous meeting with my son in Hogsmeade he put forward the terms of my - our - proposition to you?"

Our? Lucius and Draco? Lucius and Narcissa? Voldemort?

Hermione kept her voice low and emotionless. "Harry's life for that of all those he loves."

"Phrased so like a Gryffindor. Do not overdramatise. Potter's life for those of your parents and the Weasleys. One life for nine. Surely I am being generous."

His voice, his practicality and lack of emotion, sent a shiver through Hermione. "I have already agreed. What more do we have to discuss?"

"Why?" he seemed surprised at the question. "The nature and details of your betrayal of course."

Hermione felt sick. Betrayal. The word danced in front of her, whispering and laughing in her ears. Betrayal.

Sirius looked at Harry, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

Betrayal.

How could she do this? Again, like the last time she had tried to talk about it, her throat constricted and froze.

Lucius must have seen her reaction, but he continued regardless. "Today is the twenty-second of December. For the next nine days you will remain as a guest in my house. On the eve of the new year you will go to Potter and bring him to me. I do not care how you convince him to come: you are an intelligent young woman, use your imagination. But you will bring him, with the aid of a portkey, to a pre-selected destination where we shall be waiting. Should you and Potter successfully arrive then procedures will be set in motion to return your parents and the Weasleys to life. You will be free to leave. Potter will remain with us."

...where we shall be waiting...return your patents and the Weasleys to life...Potter will remain with us...

Hermione let his words wash over her, unable to comprehend their meaning. She nodded.

"What...How... Isn't that necromancy?" No - that wasn't what she had meant to ask.

"The end justifies the means. You must agree."

She nodded again in confusion, then fled back to her room as Lucius indicated the door.

* * *

The silk bedsheets the Malfoy's had provided were soft against her skin, but Hermione hardly noticed this consideration. Her face was pressed into the pillow, her sobs muffled by the feathers. Rational thought had fled some hours before and Hermione felt as if she could never face daylight again. Here, in the dark, in her room, she could hide away. She need never face her decisions.

What was she doing here?

She slid out of the bed, gritting her teeth at the cold that hit her solidly and made her gasp. Crossing her arms in front of her she crossed to the window seat and, pushing back the heavy drapes, settled on the cushion.

Outside the night was calm. The scattered stars glittered in the velvet sky. Thousands of tiny dancing flakes of snow fell though the air as if the stars themselves were crying. It was painfully beautiful, and Hermione debated wrapping herself in a blanket and braving the cold of the balcony, but she decided the snow could wait until the morning.

She curled back up in her bed, glad that she had seen the snow, calmed now. She would find a way out of this mess. The idea of securing Draco's help still lingered in her mind. No, am I am or am I not the top student in my year? Have I not had the best teachers in extricating myself from trouble? A warm smile suffused her face as her thoughts lingered on her best friends, a smile unbroken as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

Hermione saw no reason to get up in the morning. A tray of hot breakfast waited for her on the table in her room. The gentle snowfall had increased and there was no way she was going outside until it stopped. And she had no desire to spend the morning in the company of any of the Malfoys.

Eventually, sometime in the middle of the day, Hermione opened her door and headed down the corridor. Nobody had come to find her and nobody had told her that she couldn't explore. So she had decided to see if she could find the library. The Malfoys' must have a library. It is probably filled with books of dark spells. But there must be something there I can read. If I have to stay here until the New Year I might as well do something with my time. She wondered if she could find anything in the Manor, any information or records that would help with the fight against Voldemort. I doubt it, the rational part of her head told her, Lucius knows that I am here - he won't leave around papers marked 'World Domination Plans' or 'Weaknesses of the Dark Lord'.

At first all she could find were more bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms and a small sitting room. She descended a flight of stairs and there it was. Behind the double doors stretched shelf after shelf, case after case, of books of all sizes and colours. As she let the door fall softly closed behind her, Hermione breathed in the musty air savouring the scent of the ancient books.

She walked slowly across the oriental rug, the tips of her fingers dancing along the spines of the books, caressing them lovingly.

Did anyone read these books? If not they kept them immaculately clean. These old tomes were not dusty. She lifted one at random and lifted it down, it's weight satisfyingly heavy in her arms. 'Transfiguration Charms for Use With Water' declared the gold calligraphy on the cover. She replaced it carefully and lifted another 'Burial Rites of Third Class Mages' was written in blue ink underneath a combination of runes. Even though she excelled at Ancient Runes, these were unknown to Hermione. She lifted the cover and was half thrilled and half disappointed to see that the entire text of the book was in this forgotten script.

She replaced this book and wandered over to another shelf. Here were regular paperbacks like she had on her shelf at home. 'Jane Eyre', 'A Tale of Two Cities', 'The Great Gatsby', Muggle books! Further along were less well known titles, some she herself had never heard of...

Below were more muggle books, but not fiction. Books of mathematics, biology, astronomy, stared back at her. Why did the Malfoys, of all people, have muggle books?

A thud behind her startled her and she pulled herself into the shadows behind the bookcase. But she was not quick enough.

"Lucius!" screamed a female voice. "That girl is in your library!"

Narcissa Malfoy.