Hermione swallowed thickly. "But what about Draco? And Narcissa?" She looked down at the contract again, searching for their names. "Neither of them are listed."

Gnarland raised a grizzled brow over the top of his thin specs. "Miss Granger, the practice of a solitary child serving as heir is a long-respected tradition among the Malfoys. Once the account is in your name, you are trusted to act dutifully on behalf of your family. Anyone can live upon the property, as long as you approve. The money can be passed into whatever account you wish."

Hermione shook her head, as if clearing the water from her ears. She glanced to Narcissa, and found her smiling at her with wet eyes. She nodded once.

Sucking in a breath, Hermione took the quill from Gnarland. She signed, wincing slightly as her name appeared in her own blood on the parchment. As she stared at her signature above Lucius's, it felt as if a warm wind had enveloped her. Like she'd slipped into a hot bath after a long day.

The Manor seemed to gleam when she finally looked up. The curtains billowed and the walls hummed. A new life in her veins.

"Miss Granger, would you like the Malfoy vault emptied and directed into your own?"

She started. "No, not at all."

"Very well. Please note that all family members will have access to the Malfoy vault unless you specify otherwise." Gnarland slammed his folio shut before she could respond.

"That should do it, Miss Granger." Boggleben checked his watch again with a sigh. "As one of Gringotts' largest vault owners, you will have premier service at our locations internationally. You can find all the information here." He produced a golden scroll, which she took with clammy fingers. "Please send us your chosen artist within exactly two weeks. There are approved names at the bottom. Should you fail to respond, one will be chosen for you."

Hermione felt her eye twitch. "Artist?"

"Yes. As heir, you will have your painting added to the Malfoy gallery, as well as—"

She laughed at him before she could stop herself.

He stopped mid-sentence, clearly affronted.

Her hand fell from her mouth. "I'm sorry, but— this is ridiculous. I'm not having my portrait hung in the Malfoy gallery."

Gnarland stared her down through his specs. "This is a non-negotiable clause, Miss Granger, of the contract you just freely signed. Should you need a notarized copy, our office will be more than willing to—"

Her legs moved without warning, carrying her out the doors of the drawing room and into the entry hall where she couldn't hear Narcissa calling for her. Her lungs struggled to take air, and her skin was cold with sweat.

Hermione leaned against the fireplace, wishing the Floo was open so she could take it somewhere and just run.

She glanced at the distant noise from the drawing room and moved quickly away, letting her feet take her down the nearest corridor.

When had Lucius decided that he would give it all to her? In the split second he'd read the German translation of the ritual in the dead of night? When the goblins had written to him about a new Malfoy in their books?