Secrets and Masks

23. Tasted expensive

20th April

The stolen Firewhiskey burned beautifully on the way down. It wasn't as good as the cigarettes Hermione craved, but it would do. It would pacify the ache, the need.

Her legs hung over the edge of the wooden bureau she was sitting on top of. Her feet didn't touch the floor, and the metal stiletto of her thigh-high boots bounced off the doors as she swung her legs gently back and forth. She was still wearing her Death Eater robes, her assassin skin. She hadn't bothered to change. She felt too wired to strip and lay in a scolding bath the way she usually did after missions. Too on edge to relax her muscles and soak into the bubbles and bath salts the way her body desperately needed her to.

There was just too much she didn't understand, and no matter how many times she replayed the day's events over and over again in her head, she was no closer to an answer.

Every time she thought she'd made sense of Malfoy's strange behaviour, every time she thought she'd threaded her analysis together, she found that the strings didn't connect. There was always something missing, some piece of information escaping her, a missing thread that pulled her entire hypothesis apart at the seams.

Why had he stopped Hermione from killing Fleur?

Why had he spared her life?

Why had he let her go?!

None of it made sense. None of it, and yet she couldn't stop obsessing over it.

She felt like she was chasing a poltergeist, always reaching out, only for her vision of the truth to evaporate in her fist like smoke. The failure was almost maddening.

As soon as she'd arrived back at the manor, Hermione had needed something to take the edge off, something to calm her erratic nerves and keep her hands busy. Her nails certainly couldn't take any more stress, they were rather unsightly, bitten to the quick through a mixture of restlessness and anxiety. Astoria would have a heart attack when she saw them.

At first, she'd tried to busy herself with exploring the manor, again, for the hundredth time, and that was what had led her to this particular sitting room. It was different to the one she usually found herself in. This one was on the right-wing of the house and it was larger, far grander, with more elaborate furnishings and an even more ostentatious fireplace than the one that she and Astoria would occasionally share a drink by.

Although Hermione had never been in any of the bedrooms of the other residents of the manor - she could open the doors and peek inside, but there were charms on the entryway which prevented her from entering - Hermione knew Malfoy's room was just at the end of this hallway. She usually kept away from this wing of the house, wanted to avoid running into Malfoy wherever possible, but tonight she felt almost drawn to it. She wasn't sure why. Told herself it was because he was likely to have the more vintage - and therefore more potent - alcohol stored here.

Hermione's instincts were right. Not even fifteen minutes into her search of this sitting room, she'd found a hidden panel, a false wall next to the crackling fireplace that was charmed to never extinguish, with six dust-covered bottles hidden inside. Whiskeys, Bourbons, and another brown liquid that she hadn't yet tasted.

She'd try that one next -

A low, almost pained groaning sound snapped Hermione out of her alcohol buzzed train of thought, and her eyes immediately snapped to the doorway.

Malfoy didn't see her when he entered the sitting room, her residence in the dark corner hid her from view. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain; his head was tilted towards the floor as he massaged the back of his neck with the palms of both hands. He wore nothing but a simple black towel which was tied around his waist, his entire body was glistening with water from the bath he'd obviously just taken. His hair was dripping wet and hanging over his eyes, and there were two wedding rings attached to the thin metal chain he wore around his neck. They were both silver, one plain with a thick band, and the other more dainty, elegant, with a huge tear-shaped diamond attached to it.