Hermione blinked. In her twelve hours in this room, she had not once considered that she would be permitted out of it. The suite had everything she needed. A gilded cage.

"A tour? I... er, yes," she stammered under Narcissa's shrewd gaze. A tour could be useful. Perhaps she could scour the grounds for vulnerabilities. "Shall I change into something more suitable?"

A flicker of something flashed in Narcissa's eyes, and the corner of her lips twitched. "No, dear. Please be comfortable." Hermione blinked again. It felt like she'd done something right, when in fact, she'd done nothing at all. Whatever game Narcissa was playing, Hermione was ten paces behind. She'd have to change that.

She ran to look for socks and shoes, before Narcissa could change her mind. The trainers in the closet were just her size, which was lucky. Months on the run had taught her how to pull on and lace trainers in under five seconds, and she thanked Merlin for it today while Narcissa Malfoy waited in the doorway like she was a guest in her own home.

Narcissa smiled when she reappeared, but before they could depart, her eyes caught on the tray of food. She pressed her lips together, and after a pause, said, "Are you finished with your tray, Miss Granger?"

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "I don't have much of an appetite." Her stomach growled on cue.

Narcissa tilted her head at the tray. "Would you mind if we took some of those jam tarts with us? They're my favorite."

Hermione shook her head and went to retrieve several tarts from the bowl, wrapping a napkin around them. Narcissa took them from her, saying something about the recipe, but Hermione was staring at the sugary morsels, trying to keep her knees from giving out. She was so hungry.

Hermione watched as Narcissa chewed, wondering if this was some kind of trick. Some way to get her trust. Narcissa pointed out one of her favorite paintings, and then suddenly the tarts were extended to Hermione.

"Take one, dear." Hermione reached for a strawberry tart, fingers shaking. She had no intention of eating it – just being polite. But then Narcissa said, "Excellent choice. Not a drop of poison in that one."

Her eyes snapped up to find Narcissa smirking at her before popping a raspberry tart between her lips. And maybe it was the satisfied hum from her lips around the crunching, or perhaps the clever way she had tricked Hermione into taking food from her, or maybe it was because she was just so hungry. But Hermione bit into the corner of the tart, knowing that she shouldn't. But also knowing that she wouldn't survive long if she couldn't trust the food.

The sugar danced across her tongue as they passed the large window overlooking the pond in silence, and even though Hermione had a similar view from the guest room, she still couldn't take her eyes off the sight.

"Lucius's mother cultivated the gardens." Hermione turned to see Narcissa following her gaze. They paused in front of the window, and Narcissa pointed. "The gazebo was built for her wedding day. She took extra care to keep the surrounding plots as beautiful as possible – tending to the pond, caring for the peacocks. She was very set on having all future Malfoy weddings on the grounds in the gazebo, carrying on the tradition."