Note: Okay, this is a sort of companion piece to my story "You must be kidding me! A slave?". This is done in Malfoy's POV and takes place from when he wakes up to find Hermione escaped. For this to make sense you should read my other story, but it is not necessary per se though you probably should because otherwise it will be a bit confusing. Okay, so let's find out how this goes. I haven't planned this so it's entirely spontaneous!

I awoke with a pain in my back and a pool of blood around me on a street that I recognized as to be a little away from the Manor.

"That filthy little Mudblood." I half muttered under my breath.

Suddenly, I was confused. How could I have gotten on the road? She stabbed me in the woods. I hastily searched for my wand and was not successful in locating it.

She stole my wand- the only wand that could hex her back into my servitude. I slowly got up while feeling intense pain in my shoulder and blood spilling from my wound. By the position of the sun and the amount of blood on the ground, it hadn't been long since she escaped.

I limped back to the Manor. Being unconscious on the pavement didn't really make me more limber exactly and holding my shoulder to stop more blood flow than I couldn't live with.

I didn't have my wand to open the gate so I rang that buzzer- the only muggle thing about the Manor, just in case.

It was programmed, I believe they called it, to recognize me, and I was transported in.

"Who pushed the buzzer?" I heard my father inquire while rounding a corner. He had a look of shock on his face when he saw me and the blood pouring from my wound.

"She escaped." And then I collapsed.

"Mudblood." I saw myself greet the pathetic looking girl in front of me. Her spirit was breaking; I could tell.

No acknowledgement.

"So I see we've decided to be anti-social today and ignore me. Well, I feel like hearing your voice so-" I saw myself rush forward and began the process I had learned well to take advantage of the girl who at the time only existed to be my servant but was steadily refusing.

"Why am I seeing this from far off? Why am I seeing this at all?"

"It's punishment." The soft voice of the very girl I was raping in my dream next to me.

"No! No! Leave me alone please!" she screamed.

"Shut up Mudblood! You'll make it worse for yourself."

"What? This is my subconscious why is it doing this?"

"I told you: It's punishment. I'm doomed to see this out of fear. It will always haunt me. And it will haunt you for your actions. You broke me. Now, you're going to break down slowly. You will see this forever in your mind. Even if you stop dreaming about this and me, it will always be in your memory. It will never leave."

Now I saw something that wasn't in my memory.

The girl before me after what I had done to her. Crying. Picking herself up and putting herself back together. Hunching into a ball and crying. The after-math.

"Do you feel any remorse at all? Anything speck of self-hatred or even pity for me?"

"No." I said flatly. I don't know if I meant it.

"Perhaps this will help."

The scene before me faded and transformed into a girl smashing a mirror.

It cracked on the first blow.

I looked at the one speaking to me confused. She just looked on at the scene with tears in her eyes. "Just watch." She whispered to me.

A few blows to the mirror later, she had a shard of glass from the mirror. She swiftly dragged it along her arm and the blood fell from her arm to the ground. It couldn't have been the first time she had done that in her life.

As if reading my mind the being that haunted me right now answered that thought. "It wasn't. But this was the worst of them especially since I couldn't heal it immediately.

She pocketed the glass shard stained with her blood.

"Do you feel anything?"

"No. The answer will never change." That time I lied. I felt pity for the girl. There was no remorse or self hate, but I did pity her. The scene before me faded slowly.

I woke up greeted by the dull look of my family's hospital room and the private healer looking at me.

"Ahh! Mr. Malfoy. How was your rest? You passes out from blood loss, but your wound is healed. You are free to go."

I shuddered from remembrance of my dream. I was being haunted by the living.

Note: So what did you think? Should I keep going or leave it here? I would love to make it a story, but if it stunk, I would leave it here. So, please review.