𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍-𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙

Chapter 11

Lovesbitca8 TAKES CREDIT THIS IS HER WORK - FOUND ON AO3

It had been almost a week since Hermione had been left alone in the Manor, and she thought she'd explored every inch of it by now. She kept her mind occupied by cataloging each room, searching for clues or possible weapons. As the days passed, she realized she couldn't hold out hope that the Malfoys would be the next faces she saw.

Hermione took the Occlumency book to the conservatory every morning, breathing in the plants and honing her meditation skills. At night, the corridors seemed to creak with the Manor's heavy years, so Hermione stayed inside her bedroom once the sun set. She kept meals in her room, and no one was happier about that than Remmy, who seemed quite pleased to see as little of Hermione as possible.

On the second day of her solitude, Hermione discovered the kitchens. Three elves worked alongside Remmy, cleaning and making dinner for no one.

"Hello."

Four pairs of hands paused, and four pairs of eyes turned to her in varying shades of violet and green.

She cleared her throat. "I'm Hermione."

Remmy waddled to her, scowling. "Miss is hungry? Already?"

"Er, no." She tried a smile. "I just wanted to introduce myself. And meet you all." Surely the elves had the most information about the Malfoy family secrets. Never a bad idea to befriend an elf.

They stared at her. It was silent except for the sound of chopping vegetables from the enchanted knives. Closest to her was the elf that delivered tea on her first night.

"Hello again," Hermione chirped. "Peach, isn't it?"

The older elf frowned and said, "Plumb."

"Ah. Yes." She felt heat climbing her neck.

They all stared at each other.

"Miss wants dinner now?" Remmy glared.

"No, no." She tried resting casually on the back of a small elf chair. It teetered, and she straightened again. "Er, how long have you been working for the Malfoys?"

"Plumb was born here."

"Oh?" Her brows jumped, and she faced Plumb. "So a very long time! I have read that house-elves can live to two hundred."

Plumb scowled at her. "Plumb is forty-six."

"Right." Her face flushed. "Well then, you all must remember Dobby! He was a dear friend of mine."

The elf in the back let out a tutting sound, and Remmy's expression didn't change. It seemed she gained no clout by mentioning that name here.

"Please, do go on." She gestured vaguely at their work. "I just wanted to visit. Perhaps chat a bit."

They stared at her. The knives had ceased their chopping. She opened her mouth. And closed it.

"Yes, alright. I'll take dinner now."

So she ate at 2pm that day.

Later, she'd retraced her steps towards Lucius's study, positive it would still bar her, but content to try regardless. The door handle turned under her fingers, and to her surprise, she could push the door open fully with a shove. Her hand pressed against the barrier — still blocked out.

She stared into the dim room, the window behind the desk casting late afternoon shadows forward. Spying a Foe Glass on a shelf, Hermione eyed it, waiting to see if her face clarified and formed in the fog. Silhouettes shifted, passing in the void, but the Glass didn't recognize her as an enemy. Interesting, considering that she was here to snoop.