Nothing this family did made any sense.

She caught Draco's eye. He'd been staring at her, she realized. She was weak, immobile, and in bed before him. He could do anything he wanted to her. Swallowing, she tested her arm muscles, trying to flex them. Barely responsive.

The movement caught his eye and he looked away. "Mippy," he called out.

The elf popped into the room. "Miss is awake!"

"She needs food and water," Draco stated, moving toward the door. Her head was too heavy to follow him. "And another muscle relaxing potion in an hour. Please tend to her."

The door closed, and she stared at the spot in front of the windows where he'd stood as Mippy bounced around her.

~*~

Narcissa helped her out of bed the next day and assisted her with stretching her tight muscles. Hermione pressed her lips together and let her, wondering if she knew what her son had planned for her. They made it down the stairs for a stroll along the Manor's ground floor.

She didn't see Draco or Lucius for the day. Narcissa apologized for not showing her the boundary, offering to take her on a walk, but Hermione declined. Her muscles still ached. And she didn't need a reminder that she was bound here.

Narcissa was the most observant person Hermione had ever met. By midafternoon, when she came to escort her downstairs for lunch, she had deduced that Hermione’s skin was as sensitive as her muscles, and therefore stopped looping their arms together. She cast Cushioning Charms on the wingback chairs before they sat to take their dinner. When Narcissa asked Mippy to draw a room temperature bath, Hermione almost smiled at her.

It was as if she had a particularly nasty sunburn over every inch of her skin, and any extra contact sent her shivering.

Once she had toweled off, she pulled on the soft silk nightdress that Narcissa had left for her on the bed. She fell asleep that night wrapped in silk, with a cooling charm on her sheets.

~*~

Her consciousness lifted from her dreams in slow waves, a weightless floating back to the surface. Every time she dipped back into dreaming, Harry was there.

Untwining her wishes and memories, Hermione felt a pricking across her skin, her body dragging her back into her bed at Malfoy Manor, where Harry was dead. Her arms shivered, and that familiar sensation of eyes on her washed over her.

A tug at her hair, a curl twisting softly away, tickling at her neck.

Her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes to her dark bedroom. She tilted her head to the door, certain for a moment that she hadn't been alone. That fingers had threaded through her hair, a gaze steadily watching over her.

Maybe Narcissa had come to check on her.

Or maybe…

She blinked away her silly thoughts, twisting her legs in the sheets, and turning over to her other side to snuggle in.

A shadow in the darkness. And fingers twisting her curls. And eyes like the devil looking down on her, resting behind her on the bed.