A chill crept down her spine. Draco sat very still next to her.

"Father—"

"Draco was hit by an unknown curse last night." He began strolling around the chairs, his hands behind his back. "Its effects are still unclear, but when he returned from Edinburgh this morning, he fell into a deep fever. We are taking every step to see that he is healthy for the next task the Dark Lord asks of him"—Lucius stepped around Hermione's chair, bringing him back into sight—"but according to the family Healer, he is in no state to be in the field right now."

Lucius returned to his position in front of the fireplace, challenging them with his gaze.

"You can't be serious." Draco's knuckles were white clutching at the armrest. "You can't ground me—"

"Think of it more as a holiday, Draco." Lucius smiled. "Edinburgh is closed indefinitely, and the Dark Lord will be monitoring his followers closely for the foreseeable future. And I trust you and Miss Granger have discovered a new indoor activity to keep you occupied for several weeks."

Hermione's jaw dropped in a silent gasp. She closed her eyes, wishing the armchair would swallow her whole.

Draco sputtered to her left. "We—Father!"

"I have neither the time nor interest in your excuses. As long as Miss Granger continues to take her Contraceptive Potions, I'm happy to have you fixated on anything other than committing treason."

Hermione covered her face — she could feel it burning beet red through her fingertips.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Lucius lilted, "I have to go speak to your mother. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have you at home for the indefinite future."

Hermione listened as Lucius strode to the door, wrenched it open, and slammed it closed. The air in the room felt thick and heavy.

"Are you alright."

She nodded, still unable to speak.

"You… er—" Draco cleared his throat. "You've been taking potions? I haven't— I should have asked before, but—"

"Yes, no. No, it's covered. We're… yes." Her eyes flew open and she swiftly stood. "I need to… Um… yes."

She darted for her bathroom, sealing herself inside and leaning against the oak. After several calming breaths, she checked the cabinets above her sink, triple-checking that she'd taken her potion this month. And just as suspected, she was fine. Potion taken.

As the humiliation ebbed, she focused on the pressing matter: Lucius had barred her from the library. She was so close to breaking the tattoos. She could feel it. And now all her resources had been snatched away. Splashing cold water on her face, she tried to think of solutions.

She grimaced as another dilemma rose to the surface: what to do about Charlotte's memories. Draco had said the Malfoys didn't own a Pensieve, so they would have to go about finding one. And now he was forbidden from leaving the Manor.

After several more minutes of stalling, Hermione peeked out of the bathroom to find she was alone except for her morning coffee tray. She changed out of her robe, ignoring the memory of Draco's hands underneath it less than an hour ago, and into comfortable denims and a jumper.