She removed a pewter cauldron from the shelf using a step-stool. With a practiced flick of her wand she conjured a flame. She waited until the metal reached a medium temperature before adding the billywig sting slime. She would hold the vial in her right hand, and tip it. The sharp scent would tickle her nose.
The pewter and heat would cause the levitating properties of the sting slime to evaporate after boiling for one minute. She would bottle the steam and use it as an anesthetic on localised injuries. She would remove a sloth brain from a jar and using a long knife slice it so thinly the pieces were transparent. The brain under her hand would be spongy and delicate. Her touch would be very light and the knife blade razor sharp. After one minute she would reduce the temperature of the slime to a low simmer and place the slices of sloth brain across the surface, allowing two minutes for the sting slime and sloth brain to amalgamate, slowly turning into a steel blue colour with a viscous consistency.
In the meanwhile she would prepare the sopophorous bean. She would use twenty. Crushing them under her silver dagger's blade before extracting the juice. Feeling the pressure in the knuckle of her thumb as she bore down. She imagined the sensation of the bean giving way under her blade. Once the juice was added she would stir the potion clockwise twelve times with a silver brewing rod and then eight times counterclockwise with an ash rod. Then the potion would be covered and left to brew on a low temperature for seventy-three hours. The slow brewing was necessary to nullify the somnolent properties of the sopophorous juice. The potion would turn pale green. In the seventy-fourth hour she would add minced murtlap tentacles, a crushed squill, valerian, and powdered ashwinder eggshells. She would bring it to a rapid boil for thirty seconds and then use a cooling charm to reduce the temperature to just above freezing. The potion would become midnight blue with an aqueous consistency. Then she would drip syrup of hellebore over the surface. One drop for ten slow clockwise and then counterclockwise stir rotations. Her arm would tire slightly. Thirty drops in all until the potion thickened and stuck to the ash stir rod. Stir it three times with a silver rod and bring it to simmer for five minutes before removing it from the heat and allowing it to drop to room temperature without magic. It would become dark grey and syrupy. It would yield twenty-five doses.
She brewed it in her mind every night. Adjusting quantities and techniques. Revising the order of added ingredients. By the fifth night she was almost positive that she had figured the entire recipe out.
On the sixth day she forced herself to go outside alone for fear that otherwise Malfoy would show up and order her to.
Conquering her agoraphobia, she had decided was her first priority. Any schemes involving Malfoy would wait until she could manage going outdoors consistently.
Deep down she suspected she was merely deluding herself and avoiding him. But she was at a loss as to how to trick him into killing her when she couldn't even talk to him without his permission. As for seducing him, per his suggestion, well, the idea was so absurd it was almost laughable.
The next day he showed up in her room, pinned her to the bed and tore through her memories. He barely spoke to her. When he was done he simply turned on his heel and walked out.
Hermione had a dream two days later of Alastor Moody standing in front of her in a small storage closet. His eye spinning around suspiciously. It was as though they had been underwater, the words exchanged were indecipherable. He had looked at her intensely as he said something, watching her reaction. She remembered feeling skeptical but determined. Moody said something else and Hermione shook her head. He nodded sharply and when he turned to leave he had been stone-faced. But his eye as he looked back had hesitation in it. Alastor never hesitated. After Alastor had gone she stood alone for several minutes.
She didn't know what the dream meant. She tried not to dwell on it.
Hermione explored the main wing of the manor. The portraits were apparently strictly forbidden from speaking to her. They watched her with a gimlet eye but never uttered a word. She explored the hedge maze until she could walk through it with her eyes closed. She couldn't quite manage anywhere else outdoors unless she crept along the side of the manor.
Open spaces were still very difficult. She couldn't even peel herself off the wall when walking down the larger hallways. And she could barely stand to set foot inside the ballroom in the main wing of the house.
After ten days Healer Stroud arrived again to see if Hermione was pregnant. Hermione was not. Hermione had been exercising aggressively in her room to funnel her rage. Healer Stroud was pleased to see the improvement in Hermione's physical condition.