Hermione gaped at the empty doorway for several long moments before sitting down on the corner of her bed. She stared at the fluttering light in a jar on her nightstand, listening to the echo in her ears of him calling her family.

~*~

At seven, Draco knocked on her bedroom door.

"They've arrived." His voice was flat. And his eyes were cold.

She had been dressed for hours, unable to sleep. It seemed the same for him. Both of them resigned to whatever fate awaited them.

Pulling her bedroom door closed behind her, she followed him down the stairs and to the drawing room.

Always the drawing room.

As he pushed open the door, he took her elbow in a firm grip, tugging her through the threshold behind him.

She cataloged the room quickly. Narcissa. Two women in Mediwitch robes she didn't recognize. And turning to greet them, a smug leer on his face, was Dolohov.

Her feet stumbled, and her stomach tightened before she cast her gaze down to the floor.

Draco's steps slowed, but he gave away no other reaction.

"Dolohov," he greeted.

"Apologies for being so early, Malfoy," Dolohov said without a hint of remorse. "But your mother tells me you're early risers here at the Manor." He smiled at her and Draco. "Thank you for your hospitality, Narcissa," he said with a wink.

Narcissa stepped forward. "Of course, Antonin." A thin smile pasted on her face. "And I'd prefer if you called me Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione's eyes turned down to the stone floor. Her skin was cold, and her breath was shallow.

"What's this about?" Draco asked. He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting in front of her.

"Yaxley and I have been tasked to check in on the Lots. There've been a few issues, and the Dark Lord has asked us to follow up." His voice scratched down her spine.

One of the Mediwitches conjured an examination table. The other approached her with a hospital gown and silently gestured toward a conjured privacy stall. They'd been silenced.

Draco gripped her upper arm before she could step away from him. "Is this really necessary?"

"The Dark Lord wishes us to be thorough, Malfoy."

Hermione stared at her shoes as she followed the witch to the privacy curtains. Before she could disappear behind them, Dolohov said, "No need for all that, is there? Nothing I haven't seen before."

Her skin shivered and her mouth tried to swallow. Her eyes unfocused, remembering the showers at the Ministry. She thought she'd closed that book weeks ago, but it fluttered open at her feet. She summoned her magic and focus to slam it closed.

It was silent in the drawing room. She disappeared behind the curtain and listened to Narcissa start polite but stilted conversation. Her hands tugged her jumper up. Her fingers unbuttoned her trousers. And in a distant memory, she heard the echo of water against tile. She felt his black eyes on her naked body.