Hermione's mind spun. Lucius Malfoy had surrendered himself to the True Order. Freely.

She stood tall, lifting her chin. "And when will his trial be?"

"Monday."

The word echoed in her ears. "That's in four days."

"Yes."

Hermione sucked in air. "I request that his trial be pushed back so I have proper time to prepare—"

"Denied." Jacobs' mouth tugged in a faint smirk.

Rolling her jaw, Hermione swallowed. "I request full access to Malfoy Manor."

"Request denied."

"I request full access to my client for the full four days—"

"You may see him once," Jacobs said. "Now."

"Now?" she said weakly.

"Those are the allowances we are willing to make. It's worth reminding you, Miss Granger, that none of the accused have enjoyed these privileges thus far."

"These 'privileges' you speak of are a mockery of the most basic human rights," she spat. "This is an outrage. I—" She broke off, watching Pierre assess her. Waiting for her to crack beneath the pressure.

But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Pushing her shoulders back, she said, "Take me to him."

With a mocking bow, Pierre led her from the room. Hermione caught a glimpse of Jacobs' narrowed gaze as she slipped through the door, following Pierre as he strode down the black-tiled corridor.

Her head swam. She needed to access legal texts. She needed to review the laws drawn up by this new court — whatever they were. She needed to study the previous days' trials.

Her mind was itemizing a list of evidence to defend Lucius Malfoy when Pierre halted at a door surrounded by stern-faced guards. Lucius was here, she realized. Behind this door.

"You have ten minutes," Pierre said.

Her fists curled at her sides. "I'll have at least an hour, General. Perhaps the Prophet would be interested in knowing—"

"Perhaps the Prophet will find itself unable to print tomorrow." He opened the door for her, his blue eyes locked on hers. "Ten minutes."

Seething, Hermione stepped inside — into a small black room with no windows. There was only a table and two chairs. Lucius Malfoy sat in one of them, cuffed to the table. He lifted his brow when he saw her. The door behind her clicked closed.

"Miss Granger," said Lucius. He was thinner, but he still sat tall and proud. "I was quite surprised to hear I was meeting with my solicitor before heading to Azkaban."

The sight of his sharp jaw and grey eyes struck something inside her. Some hole in her chest that longed for Draco, and missed Narcissa. A place that now felt more like home than the Burrow did.

She moved to take the chair across from him. Folding her hands on the tabletop, she met his assessing gaze.

"Why are you here, Lucius?"

There was a good chance he'd lie. But she had to ask it once.

He spread his hands wide, the chains clinking together. "These are surely the finest accommodations in all of England. How could I resist?"