She felt her heart stutter in her chest. He wanted to play a game? Waiting for the right question to come to her, Hermione stood frozen, rooted to the floor,

Why did Draco purchase me?

Who has access to Nagini?

What has George done to anger Voldemort?

"Why are the Death Eaters gathered at the Macnair estate?" Her voice clicked, and she didn't know if she'd chosen the right question out of the thousands in her mind.

He steepled his fingers, and gazed at her over the tops of them. "To investigate the recent murder of Walden Macnair, and subsequent escape of his prisoner."

Her eyes widened. Ron. Or… prisoner, singular?

She opened her lips—

"Ask and you will receive within reason, Miss Granger," he cut in, effectively silencing her. "Creeping about like a mouse is unbecoming." His eyes dug into her, flickering down to the book in her arms and back. "Do enjoy your reading. Hopefully it's something… instructive."

She stared at him, her skin feeling too tight. His face was impassive.

Her fingers curled tighter around the Occlumency book, tucked into the larger fiction book. Did he know? Did he…?

"Thank you, I will," she replied.

He looked away, breaking her gaze. "Could you close the door before you go?" She narrowed her eyes at him. The door handle was past the barrier she couldn't pass. His lips quirked. "Oh yes, of course."

And with a wave of his hand the door slammed in her face.

She frowned at the wood, inches from her nose. No doubt that conversation would take her weeks to untangle.

Wandering back to her room, taking the stairs slowly for her aching muscles, Hermione started with item number one.

Goyle's father was missing. She didn't know anything else, except that Voldemort was sending Lucius Malfoy to investigate. Perhaps he had been murdered and Lucius was headed to find his body.

Second item: Walden Macnair was dead. And a singular prisoner had escaped. Last she'd heard, Ron had been summoned by Voldemort, so it was possible that it was Angelina who had gotten out. Was it George? Had he come for his brother?

And why was Lucius Malfoy telling her all of this? What could he gain from passing information to her? Was it even the truth? What game was he playing?

She reached the top of the stairs, her book pressing into her ribs, and wondered about the Occlumency book that had hovered for her to find. Did Lucius plant it there for her? What possible benefit could Occlumency give her if she didn't have magic?

Pausing in front of her doorway, Hermione breathed deep with the exertion.

Did she have magic?

Was the minty potion truly being served?

She pushed open the door, and stood in the middle of her room. Turning to her bookshelf, she reached an arm out, focusing her energy on bringing a blue spine to her.

Nothing.

Visualizing her wand in her hand, she concentrated on the magic she was born with. The magic that made her float the neighbor's cat when she was seven. The magic that set Becky Tracker's hair on fire when she was ten.