Author's Note: Don't worry, I haven't abandoned Ivy Secret! I'm still working on it ^___^ This is a short chapter, but I do have others i've written.

Anyway, reviews are always welcome, thankyou for readin and I hope you enjoy it!

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"Did they beat you?" he asked silently.

"Yes," she whispered, he raised an eyebrow. "Yes....Sir."

"I see they beat you into submission then. As I remember, you were a very feisty young thing, alas, it's been five years. You were seventeen when captured, right?"

"Yes, Sir," her eyes looked down in shame.

"And you're now twenty-two. If things had gone differently, I'd have imagined you in a high place amongst the ministry, or the medical career path."

Hermione stared at the floor, embarrassed about how pathetic her life had become. She had been captured at seventeen, at the last crucial battle between the Dark and the Light side. It took only one year for all the muggleborns to be called in as slaves, and anyone who rejected the Pureblood status was to be 'gotten rid of' – in other terms, killed. Hermione suspected Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lupin and the rest to have been murdered shortly after her capture, if not that night itself.

Since Hermione was one of the most important fighters on the light side, she had been taken to a high security muggleborn prison, amongst the difficult and well known. Kept in cage 7B for five years, only being taken out for brutal pain and excitement of those on the dark side, she wondered how on earth she had come into the ownership of Draco and Pansy Malfoy.

"Sir?" she asked, almost a whisper as she was afraid of punishment for asking a question.

"Mhm?" he motioned for her to continue as he sat, arms folded on the sofa next to his wife, the previous Pansy Parkinson.

"How did you and Mistress come to own me?"

"We thought you'd died. We'd always wanted you as ours, but it turns out they kept you secret to avoid you being bought – they found you the most fun to torment in the early days as you were apparently as feisty as we remember you. Anyway, we spoke to Voldemort himself who managed to put us into contact with the prison looking after you and well, here you are. Cost us a pretty penny but i'm sure you're worth it."

"Thankyou, Sir."

"I actually prefer the term Master. Sir should be used for male guests, and Ma'am for female guests. You know Pansy as Mistress."

"Yes, Master."

"Pansy will primarily be looking after you, but I won't always be out of the picture. There are basic rules I want you to obey, but i'm sure you know them. As long as you do as you are told and are well behaved, we shouldn't have any problems." That said, Draco kissed his wife on the cheek and exited the room. There was silence for a few moments; Pansy was staring at Hermione who was kneeling at her feet, eyes bowed down to the floor.

"We never did get on, did we slave?"

"No, Mistress."

"Well. Things have changed now, and i'm not as I used to be. I'm fair, but firm – break my rules and you'll know about it, but you won't get punished without a valid reason, nor for entertainment either."

"Thankyou, Mistress."

"Come on now, we'll get you to your room. It's not much, but..."

Pansy led Hermione into a large white room on the top floor; it was quite minimal, only having a large double bed, white wardrobe, white sofa, white plush carpet and curtains.

"It's....beautiful, Mistress." Hermione's cell at the prison was just that, a cell with only a bucket and hard bed, one single rug to keep her warm, even though she was naked all the time. There was no privacy and she was often kept cold, hungry and in pain, so the little kindess Draco and Pansy offered her had made Hermione feel loved again.

"Harry and Ron?" asked Hermione curiously, to which Pansy looked down and left the room; Hermione noting she'd locked the door behind her.