It had worked. Bellatrix had fallen straight in their trap, and was none the wiser for it—

Chairs scraped backwards.

"Take the whores with you. I'm sure the Mudblood would delight in seeing her old boyfriend again."

"She stays." Hermione lifted her head to see Narcissa's cold blue eyes boring into her sister's, her posture rigid with anger. "She goes nowhere without Draco."

Bellatrix sneered and turned to her brother-in-law. "Go on, then. But be sure to let the ginger know who our dinner guests are."

Ron.

Hermione listened to the shuffling of feet as her blood raced. She was so close to him, but so impossibly far away.

The doors clicked closed. She was alone with the Malfoys, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus. There was a stilted silence before Bellatrix spoke.

"I see Draco is finally enjoying his plaything. It's an improvement, I suppose, but if you ask me, the boy is still far too soft." Bellatrix took a deep sip from her wine, eyeing Lucius over the rim. Lucius stared back at her impassively. "I must confess myself quite disappointed with his performance in Italy."

Time seemed to slow. The pain behind Hermione's eyes faded, and she watched the entire family stare at each other as if wands had been drawn.

Narcissa shifted, folding her hands beneath her chin and leaning on her elbows. "I'm sure you wish for someone to ask, 'What went wrong in Italy?' So I will ask it."

Hermione could see Narcissa and Lucius plainly, Bellatrix's profile, and the back of Draco's head from this vantage point. She watched Draco's shoulder blades twitch before his ribs expanded.

"I did my task. The Minister is alive. The insurgents were disabled—"

"Twenty rioters and would-be assassins Stunned, and not a single Killing Curse cast." Bellatrix tutted mockingly. "I did show you how to cast one, didn't I? In the Manor basement on the rats and vermin?"

A pause.

"Of course, Aunt. I was being cautious. No need for a massacre in a volatile country—"

"The Dark Lord approved any and all force necessary to protect Minister Romano." Bellatrix's fingers circled the rim of her glass, like a cat playing with dinner. "In fact, he would have been quite pleased to learn that you disposed of a group of violent dissenters. Instead you left that honor to Dolohov." Hermione saw Draco's left fist clench in his lap. "Of course, you're like your father in that regard," she continued lightly. "Far more interested in elbow-rubbing and politics than in getting your hands dirty."

Hermione dared to look up at Lucius. He was perfectly still, his eyes flitting back and forth between his sister-in-law and his son. Only his lips moved as he lilted, "We all have different strengths."

Bellatrix tilted her head. "Are you sure the Dark Lord would agree that Draco's — timidness — is a strength?"

A scream from below their feet — somewhere in the bowels of the manor. Hermione's air constricted and she jumped violently. She knew that scream. She looked up at the family — not a single brow arched in interest. Not even Rodolphus took his eyes off his wine glass. She dug her fingers into her palms.