A/N: I am apparently going story-crazy lately as a lot of ideas have been coming to me. I realized that it was a really popular theme for Hermione Granger to be some sort of slave to Draco Malfoy, and an idea came to me for this story. What if the Golden Trio took longer to defeat Voldemort? What if he got stronger and his ideals began to take hold? What if muggleborns spurred a sort of wizard-trafficking system?

This is an AU fanfic, in case you couldn't tell from the pairing, however, I will do my best to keep all of the characters in character. This is just an introductory chapter, so please let me know what you think; if you hate this story, let me know and I can scrap it.

Disclaimer: All characters, places, ideas, events, etc. are not mine. They come from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling.

WARNING: This story contains a little bit of violence, implied rape, slavery, and other sensitive topic issues. For mature audiences only.

Hermione Granger stood up and stretched. It was almost the end of her watch. She, Harry, and Ron had been hunting horcruxes for almost an entire year; Harry's 18th birthday was only three weeks away. They had found and destroyed all of the horcruxes except two of them. The two objects that eluded them were the snake Nagini and something that belonged to either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.

The sword of Gryffindor now lay in Harry's bed, with Harry sleeping soundly half on top of it, with one hand on the handle clutching it tightly. Ron had fallen asleep hugging his radio, which was actually blaring rather loudly, but Hermione didn't mind, the noise helped to keep her awake.

She glanced in at the two sleeping boys and smiled; she couldn't have asked for better friends. After they had barely escaped Gringotts, they had returned to hiding in the mundane British countryside, but that had been over two months ago.

They were confident in their abilities, and Ron was greatly heartened by the fact that they only had two left. Harry was sure that once Voldemort discovered they were hunting his horcruxes, they would have more information to go on. As it was, however, all they knew was that Voldemort was now in possession of the Elder Wand.

Hermione scowled. She felt foolish, even now, for not having believed in the child's tale of the Three Brothers. Harry never tired of saying 'I told you so!' Ron, on the other hand, had been too eager to keep Hermione happy after having abandoned them before. There was also the small issue of their unspoken feelings for each other. Hermione felt confident that before this war was over, Ron would make a move.

Just as she turned to go into the tent, a light flashed somewhere deep in the woods and caught her eye. It was a bluish silver glow coming from between the trees. The patronus moved, walking through the forest away from Hermione. She frowned at it and then had a thought; was it the doe? Harry and Ron both reported that someone with a doe patronus had helped them obtain the sword of Gryffindor, was this that same patronus trying to give them more help?

Feeling torn, she moved toward the entrance of the tent, but the patronus started walking away even faster. She couldn't have time to wake the boys. Keeping her eyes on the retreating glow, she clutched her wand tightly and tore off after it. She felt the air vibrate around her when she left the protective enchantments she had cast, but paid them no mind.

After running for nearly ten minutes, she finally caught up to, and burst into an open meadow. However, the patronus wasn't what she was expecting. It wasn't a doe at all, it was a donkey. Her heart sped up into overdrive and adrenaline pumped hot and fresh through her veins as she realized the horrible mistake she had made. This was not a friendly patronus.

Vicious laughter cut through the hair and no less than eight men entered the clearing from different sides, surrounding her. She battled them all, but eventually they managed to disarm her. Hermione screamed as ropes spun around her, forcing her to fall to the ground, landing on her shoulder hard.

"What do we have 'ere?" said a gruff voice from above her. She could smell his hot stinky breath as he got closer to her. His hand twisted into her hair and yanked. Again, she screamed. He whispered a spell and then grinned widely, revealing two missing teeth, and then said to his comrades, "She's a mudblood alright."

Realization dawned. A crude spell had been invented to detect magical ancestry. The spell he had whispered revealed to him that there was not a drop of magical blood anywhere in her family except for what she was born with. "Hair's a bit bushy," commented a big burly man with matted hair and a large scar over across his jaw.

"She's got a nice body though," said another as he eyed her up and down as if appraising her.

"Young, that's always a plus," added yet a different wizard.

"What do you reckon?" asked the one who still had a hold of her hair, "70 galleons?"

"Nah, double that at least. I'd bet my gold cauldron that she's a virgin."

"Are you, you feisty little bird?" the voice in her ear had dropped an octave and he sounded disgustedly excited.

She didn't reply, merely whimpered as one of them stepped forward to run a hand along the length of her body. "Don't touch me, you filthy Snatcher!" she yelled.

He made a 'tsk' sound and tilted her chin so that she was forced to look him in the eye, their noses so close they were almost touching, "Darling, you're going to wish I was a Snatcher."

Just over a mile away, Harry and Ron continued sleeping, the sound of the radio drowning out the distant shrieks of their best friend.

….

"Come along, Draco," said Lucius as they made their way into Diagon Alley, "I wish to get you a late graduation present. Now that we are back in the good graces of the Dark Lord, we are practically gods in this world."

Draco grunted in acknowledgement of his father's words, but dragged his feet slightly as he tried to keep up with the brisk pace. It was over. Everyone knew it. The Dark Lord had won, and there was no sign of Harry Potter. He hadn't been sighted in over two months, ever since he had escaped from the Gringotts.

Bellatrix hadn't told the Dark Lord that the possession he had placed in her care had been stolen. She hadn't been able to force herself to admit that she had failed him, so instead she had remained silent and hoped every day that he would not ask her to retrieve his precious item from her vault.

"Ah, here we are, this way," said Lucius with a snap of his fingers toward Draco. Draco followed without question and very dimly noted the creaking wooden sign that read, 'Mudbloods for sale '

They went through a few dark alleys, down a set of stone steps and finally arrived in a dimly lit room with a dirt floor. Draco was disgusted. This was the place his father had taken him to buy him a graduation present? Sneering at the place, he turned and asked, "What are we here for, Father?"

"I think it's time that you have a servant of your own."

"You're buying me a house elf?"

"Don't be thick. The new trend is mudblood slavery, Draco, surely you know that? Your friend, Zabini, he has one, and Goyle's thinking of buying one for his son as well." Draco looked around and realized that the other people in the place were not fellow shoppers, but the merchandise. He felt sick.

"The males," said the salesman motioning toward a group of five boys tied together by their waists, "are for manual labor. The females," he flicked a thumb toward a group of four girls, seated on the floor with their hands shackled, "are for sexual services."

Draco's stomach churned. He had long ago accepted that his father was disgusting, but this was crossing a line. His father had officially gone off the deep end. He was acting like these weren't people, like they were animals! But Draco knew better. Draco knew that muggles and muggle borns and half-bloods were humans.

"We are in the market for a female," said Lucius silkily. The salesman nodded with a wicked grin and ushered the two Malfoy's forward to get a closer look.

"Any of them to your liking?"

"Father, I don't want one," said Draco at once, not even looking at the selection before him.

"It's not an option, Draco. The Dark Lord himself suggested this as an appropriate gift for you. He is grateful for your service and compliance with his wishes."

"Surely he doesn't want me having sex with a mudblood," said Draco at once.

"She will not be just for sex, Draco, I'm sure she will do anything you request, because she is a slave. Cook, clean, anything else you want one. Am I correct?" he asked of the salesman.

"Quite right," the stout man quickly agreed, "Powerful enchantments have been placed on all of them."

"What sort of enchantments?" asked Draco dryly.

"Well, for starters, if they touch a wand it burns their hands. So you won't have to worry about leaving your wand out for them to find. Then, they have to obey your every command-"

"Like a house elf?"

"No. House elves can disobey, can't they?" said the man, "these mudbloods can't. Magic binds them to your service. They won't punish themselves like house elves because they can't disobey like house elves can. They either do what you ask or die trying." Lucius and the man laughed, but Draco blanched.

"What else?" asked Lucius greedily.

"They have a form of Trace on them; if you lose them somewhere, you can find them right quick. Last, but not least, they are confined to your place of dwelling unless you command them to go out. For instance, if you told them to go to the store, they could go. But if you didn't tell them to leave, they can't."

"Impressive," said Lucius. Draco gave a noncommittal jerk of his head. "You don't seem very excited about this."

"It's just that," he paused, unsure of how to get out of his horrid deal, "no girl will want to marry me, will she, knowing that I have a mudblood on the side?"

The elder Malfoy scoffed at his son's concerns, "If anything, a proper pureblood girl will be proud of you. Owning a mudblood will soon be a sign of status, wealth, and power. The Ministry no longer cares about catching them, but simply owning them. The Minister of Magic himself owns two males who take care of his home."

Knowing that he had no other choice if the Dark Lord requested it, Draco looked over the girls. None of them particularly stood out to him. They all looked scared and meager and they made bile rise in his throat. They acted like he was a predator and they were the prey that were unable to escape. Looking at them made him feel like a monster. He couldn't bare to own one of them.

"Do you have any others?" he asked.

"Just two others," the man said as he scratched the scruff on his chin, "but they're pricey."

"Why?" asked Lucius. Expensive to Lucius automatically meant that something was better quality.

"They're virgins," said the man with a grin.

"Let us see them," Lucius followed the man into a side room in which there were two jail cells. In one, a blonde girl was weeping loudly. In the second cell, however, Draco's hope lifted as he realize that this girl was not making any sounds of fear or despair. Bushy hair covered her face so he couldn't see her properly, but it was enough. He knew that girl.

Hermione Granger sat in the cell with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. She heard men enter and steeled herself. Several men had come in to look at her already, but had chosen other girls instead. For the first time in her life, she was thankful for her unruly hair, as it covered her beautiful face and made her appear to be less attractive than she really was.

"What do you think, Draco?" at the sound of that voice, at the mention of that name, her head snapped up. She locked eyes with Draco and they had a silent communication. With a start, he realized that these men did not know who she was. To them, she was just a number. They had no idea that the Dark Lord would kill to have this girl. They had no idea that this girl had information on Harry Potter.

After brief consideration he said swiftly, "I'll have this one, Father."

"Excellent!" Lucius had not recognized the girl, but if she was the one his son had chosen, then she was the one he would get. Lucius wandered off with salesman to discuss the price, and Draco approached the bars as Hermione glared at him.

"I bet you never thought it would come to this, eh, Granger?" he couldn't help it. Little miss perfect Hermione Granger was at his mercy and a part of him reveled in this. Another part of him was disgusted that side of him.

"Malfoy," said Hermione sternly, with determination, "don't say my name. If you mention to anyone who I am, I swear to Merlin I will torture you until not even your own mother would be able to recognize you."

"Your secret is safe with me, Mudblood," he said just as the two men came back into the room.

The salesman said a few enchantments, binding Hermione to Draco's service and then opened her cell. She had a single rope tied around her waist that was cursed to burn her if it touched any inch of her skin.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Malfoy," he nodded to Draco and handed him the end of the rope. "Don't forget to recommend my humble shop to your friends. Best mudbloods London has to offer!"

"We shall," said Lucius with a polite nod. The two Malfoys strode out of the shop, through Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. Once safely inside, Lucius said to his son, "I'll come by your flat sometime within the next few days to discuss business and check on how you're handling her," he was still talking about Hermione as if she were an animal, "until then, have fun." With those departing words, Lucius Malfoy apparated back to his Manor.

Draco began striding into muggle London, tugging Hermione along by the rope around her waist. He paused briefly to put a Disillusionment Charm on her and then kept going. They weaved in and out of streets and finally came to a wizarding apartment complex.

He hadn't spoken a word to her the entire time, and she was confused by that. What was he thinking? Why had he chosen her? She felt like she knew the answer. After all, he was Draco fucking Malfoy. He wanted to humiliate her. The Trader had told the Malfoys that she was a virgin, and Draco with his twisted upbringing probably wanted to rub it in her face that he controlled her in every possible way. He would want to put her in her place.

"Come along then, Granger," he snapped as she paused before getting in the lift. Unable to disobey him, she found her feet moving of their own accord. She stepped into the lift and it went up to the seventh floor.