Of all the things that remained true in Hermione's life, one thing was
certain. Ron and Harry were gone, lives taken by the wand of death eaters,
Sirius was gone, the first of many to disappear in the vast abyss of
carnage. Dumbledore died of old age not long after Sirius, having been
unable to hold on too the bare thread of his life. Assorted others were
gone, much to many to name. Even now, she hated herself and the fact that
she could not save the lives of her friends and family.
Death eaters ruled the world and so little muggles were free. Nearly all the population were taken as slaves and divided among the highest rankings of Voldemort's inner circle, including her parents. So much had been taken in so little time. Those that were left were in hiding, forming rebel ranks that would never even be able to stand up to the power that had taken their world.
She herself remained alive only because of what Draco Malfoy called "kindness." She knew it wasn't though. For as much a muggle born as she was, he knew that she had a gift of magic that he himself would never be able to duplicate. Knowledge of that kept his hand at bay. Instead, she remained trapped within his household, worked to bare bones alongside the house elves.
Hermione had wasted somewhat from sadness and malnutrition. Her hair was limp, dull, and thin. She had not seen the light of day in a year or so and she was ghostly pale. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and she could not bring herself to see her reflection because of how skeletal she knew she looked. The clothing she had been given hung off of her as if she were a wire hanger. If one had passed her, they would say that she looked like an Azkaban prisoner, gaunt. Her once pretty face was smudged with the grime of the lower levels. At first she had been self-conscious at her smell, but the embarrassment soon drifted away when she decided she could do nothing about it.
She sat quietly in the corner of her sleeping quarters, a small enclave of the dark basement level about the size of a closet. A thin and worn blanket covered her legs, supplying what very little warmth it could. There was no light. There was no happiness. There was no warmth.
Hermione heard the door open and a dim sliver of light was thrown across the room. A timid house elf peered in sympathetically at her.
"Hermy...Hermy? Master Draco tolds me to come and get you's. Hermy?" The house elf opened the door a little bit more, her large blue eyes beseeching. None of the house elves could pronounce her name properly and decided to shorten it down to make it easier.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes, looking at the small female.
"Alright Pan. Thank you." The house elf smiled and turned away, leaving the door open so Hermione had a little light. Painfully, the young woman stood, wincing at her aching body. Pan stood outside the doorway. "Hermy, Master Draco says you's needs to take a bath first before you go to him." Hermione smiled. A bath sounded so grand. She had come to see baths as a rare privilege, bestowed on only the most honored of servants. She knew that was not why she was told to bathe, but to think of it as a privilege seemed much less heart breaking.
She followed Pan to the small bathing room, where she scrubbed the grime off of her skin. A somewhat cleaner outfit was set in the room. Hermione glanced at it and continued to bathe. The water had turned a murky color and for a moment, Hermione was extremely ashamed at how bad she must have looked.
Drying off, She got dressed and glanced at the small reflective glass set in the washroom. Her face was unrecognizable to her eyes, but clean nonetheless.
Her bare feet make a soft padding noise on the stone floor as she walked up the stairs. It was a very large mansion, one could get easily lost within it if they did not know where to go.
She stopped in front of a carved mahogany door and sighed, knocking lightly on it. There was a hesitation and a low voice carried coldly from within.
"Enter." Hermione turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. Her strength had almost diminished, so the mere opening of the heavy door was a chore for her. When she stepped into the room, Draco sneered at her.
"Opening a door a little to challenging for you, Granger?"
Hermione did not look him in the face like she would have when she was younger. She merely shook her head and closed the door.
Draco did not show it, but he was suddenly shocked at the gauntness of her appearance.
"Have enough to eat, Granger?"
Hermione merely nodded. Draco had never treated her with kindness, and she was sure that had she said "no", he would have made a severe remark. This was not the case. Draco stood up.
"I do not believe you. You are far to thin to be eating well." He walked a few steps to her and studied her form with intense disgust.
"Turn around." He barked. Hermione jumped and circled slowly. She head the man sigh and turn away.
"You will be given more to eat and clothing in better shape. You will also bathe more. Look at me!" Hermione turned, facing him.
"I said look at me..." He said in a deathly quiet voice. Hermione Granger was no fool, nor was she dense. He could sense her fear of him, and he knew why she was so hesitant to look at him. For a brief instant, he pitied her. She had been through so much, she had lost so much, she had been thrown into a darkness that was not easy to be rid of. The though passed from his as she looked up at him.
To Hermione, he looked the same, slim, blond, and tall. His mouth was turned in a frown as if it was permanent. His gray eyes were just as cold and calculating as they had been in school.
"Where do you sleep?" She hesitated.
"In a small enclave closet in the basement." She replied quietly. She was treading lightly, trying not to stir waves that attracted anything. He continued to stare calculating at her. "With the house elves..." She added almost inaudibly.
"With the house elves?" He spat in disgust. She jumped slightly at his tone and nodded quickly. "Oh yes. That's right. I remember in school you had an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the revolting creatures." He added, sitting down. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, feeling the beginnings of an eight o' clock shadow.
Hermione watched him, wondering what on earth he was thinking. She almost despised this man, even more then she had in school. For a while, she had thought that maybe it was just a sort of strength in front of his father. A way to get praise, but now she realized that Draco was not faking it. He truly was like his father. Years of verbal abuse and high expectance had turned him into the monster that his father was. A tool of hate and mass requiem. He looked weary and small circles rested underneath his eyes. He sighed.
"I do not like you Granger. I never have. You're a damnable mud-blood. But that does not mean that I do not respect you, if not a little bit. Head of our class in every subject. Intelligent, witty, loyal, not to mention strong. You are everything, plus a lot more, that I can never be. A reminder of strength and will that so many humans do not possess these days. I am merely a follower in the end instead of the leader I thought I could be. I do the bidding of others instead of the other way around.
"Because of my respect for you, I kept you alive, even when you probably wished you were dead like your loved ones. I thought it a waste of value. I know you despise me, Granger. You have every reason too. I am not sorry of my actions or the actions of my superiors.
"I have decided that you shall take on new duties. You will not scurry around in the lower levels, cowering when someone passes. It is a waste of energy and talent. You will have a week to recover energy lost from lack of proper sustenance, and then you will work at my side as a personal assistant. You will be given your wand back, however, it has been charmed to do only simple spells that will not harm anyone or allow you to escape. Your quarters are no longer on the lower level; there is a small room down the hall that will be yours for now. Do I make my self clear?" He stared evenly at her, waiting for her response.
Hermione frowned slightly.
"Yes sir." She replied quietly. Draco merely nodded.
"Go. The elf Pan will show you where to go and bring you a meal." Hermione nodded and turned to the door.
"Oh and Granger, remember. You may not think I am capable of it, but I do this not only out of respect, but also out of kindness. Remember that." Hermione did not say anything. She merely opened the door, stepped out, and closed it behind her. Pan stood outside the door, shuffling her feet.
"This way Hermy."
A/N: Hello everyone. This is a new fan-fiction and I hope you enjoy it. It has been a long time since I have updated anything. I will be trying to work more on "Prisoner of Time," But I have somewhat of a writers block, so I'm not sure when I will get the next chapter of that up. I would love reviews; I can always use some constructive criticism. This fan- fiction will deal with dark subjects, just as a warning. I will update as soon as I can! .
Death eaters ruled the world and so little muggles were free. Nearly all the population were taken as slaves and divided among the highest rankings of Voldemort's inner circle, including her parents. So much had been taken in so little time. Those that were left were in hiding, forming rebel ranks that would never even be able to stand up to the power that had taken their world.
She herself remained alive only because of what Draco Malfoy called "kindness." She knew it wasn't though. For as much a muggle born as she was, he knew that she had a gift of magic that he himself would never be able to duplicate. Knowledge of that kept his hand at bay. Instead, she remained trapped within his household, worked to bare bones alongside the house elves.
Hermione had wasted somewhat from sadness and malnutrition. Her hair was limp, dull, and thin. She had not seen the light of day in a year or so and she was ghostly pale. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and she could not bring herself to see her reflection because of how skeletal she knew she looked. The clothing she had been given hung off of her as if she were a wire hanger. If one had passed her, they would say that she looked like an Azkaban prisoner, gaunt. Her once pretty face was smudged with the grime of the lower levels. At first she had been self-conscious at her smell, but the embarrassment soon drifted away when she decided she could do nothing about it.
She sat quietly in the corner of her sleeping quarters, a small enclave of the dark basement level about the size of a closet. A thin and worn blanket covered her legs, supplying what very little warmth it could. There was no light. There was no happiness. There was no warmth.
Hermione heard the door open and a dim sliver of light was thrown across the room. A timid house elf peered in sympathetically at her.
"Hermy...Hermy? Master Draco tolds me to come and get you's. Hermy?" The house elf opened the door a little bit more, her large blue eyes beseeching. None of the house elves could pronounce her name properly and decided to shorten it down to make it easier.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes, looking at the small female.
"Alright Pan. Thank you." The house elf smiled and turned away, leaving the door open so Hermione had a little light. Painfully, the young woman stood, wincing at her aching body. Pan stood outside the doorway. "Hermy, Master Draco says you's needs to take a bath first before you go to him." Hermione smiled. A bath sounded so grand. She had come to see baths as a rare privilege, bestowed on only the most honored of servants. She knew that was not why she was told to bathe, but to think of it as a privilege seemed much less heart breaking.
She followed Pan to the small bathing room, where she scrubbed the grime off of her skin. A somewhat cleaner outfit was set in the room. Hermione glanced at it and continued to bathe. The water had turned a murky color and for a moment, Hermione was extremely ashamed at how bad she must have looked.
Drying off, She got dressed and glanced at the small reflective glass set in the washroom. Her face was unrecognizable to her eyes, but clean nonetheless.
Her bare feet make a soft padding noise on the stone floor as she walked up the stairs. It was a very large mansion, one could get easily lost within it if they did not know where to go.
She stopped in front of a carved mahogany door and sighed, knocking lightly on it. There was a hesitation and a low voice carried coldly from within.
"Enter." Hermione turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. Her strength had almost diminished, so the mere opening of the heavy door was a chore for her. When she stepped into the room, Draco sneered at her.
"Opening a door a little to challenging for you, Granger?"
Hermione did not look him in the face like she would have when she was younger. She merely shook her head and closed the door.
Draco did not show it, but he was suddenly shocked at the gauntness of her appearance.
"Have enough to eat, Granger?"
Hermione merely nodded. Draco had never treated her with kindness, and she was sure that had she said "no", he would have made a severe remark. This was not the case. Draco stood up.
"I do not believe you. You are far to thin to be eating well." He walked a few steps to her and studied her form with intense disgust.
"Turn around." He barked. Hermione jumped and circled slowly. She head the man sigh and turn away.
"You will be given more to eat and clothing in better shape. You will also bathe more. Look at me!" Hermione turned, facing him.
"I said look at me..." He said in a deathly quiet voice. Hermione Granger was no fool, nor was she dense. He could sense her fear of him, and he knew why she was so hesitant to look at him. For a brief instant, he pitied her. She had been through so much, she had lost so much, she had been thrown into a darkness that was not easy to be rid of. The though passed from his as she looked up at him.
To Hermione, he looked the same, slim, blond, and tall. His mouth was turned in a frown as if it was permanent. His gray eyes were just as cold and calculating as they had been in school.
"Where do you sleep?" She hesitated.
"In a small enclave closet in the basement." She replied quietly. She was treading lightly, trying not to stir waves that attracted anything. He continued to stare calculating at her. "With the house elves..." She added almost inaudibly.
"With the house elves?" He spat in disgust. She jumped slightly at his tone and nodded quickly. "Oh yes. That's right. I remember in school you had an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the revolting creatures." He added, sitting down. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, feeling the beginnings of an eight o' clock shadow.
Hermione watched him, wondering what on earth he was thinking. She almost despised this man, even more then she had in school. For a while, she had thought that maybe it was just a sort of strength in front of his father. A way to get praise, but now she realized that Draco was not faking it. He truly was like his father. Years of verbal abuse and high expectance had turned him into the monster that his father was. A tool of hate and mass requiem. He looked weary and small circles rested underneath his eyes. He sighed.
"I do not like you Granger. I never have. You're a damnable mud-blood. But that does not mean that I do not respect you, if not a little bit. Head of our class in every subject. Intelligent, witty, loyal, not to mention strong. You are everything, plus a lot more, that I can never be. A reminder of strength and will that so many humans do not possess these days. I am merely a follower in the end instead of the leader I thought I could be. I do the bidding of others instead of the other way around.
"Because of my respect for you, I kept you alive, even when you probably wished you were dead like your loved ones. I thought it a waste of value. I know you despise me, Granger. You have every reason too. I am not sorry of my actions or the actions of my superiors.
"I have decided that you shall take on new duties. You will not scurry around in the lower levels, cowering when someone passes. It is a waste of energy and talent. You will have a week to recover energy lost from lack of proper sustenance, and then you will work at my side as a personal assistant. You will be given your wand back, however, it has been charmed to do only simple spells that will not harm anyone or allow you to escape. Your quarters are no longer on the lower level; there is a small room down the hall that will be yours for now. Do I make my self clear?" He stared evenly at her, waiting for her response.
Hermione frowned slightly.
"Yes sir." She replied quietly. Draco merely nodded.
"Go. The elf Pan will show you where to go and bring you a meal." Hermione nodded and turned to the door.
"Oh and Granger, remember. You may not think I am capable of it, but I do this not only out of respect, but also out of kindness. Remember that." Hermione did not say anything. She merely opened the door, stepped out, and closed it behind her. Pan stood outside the door, shuffling her feet.
"This way Hermy."
A/N: Hello everyone. This is a new fan-fiction and I hope you enjoy it. It has been a long time since I have updated anything. I will be trying to work more on "Prisoner of Time," But I have somewhat of a writers block, so I'm not sure when I will get the next chapter of that up. I would love reviews; I can always use some constructive criticism. This fan- fiction will deal with dark subjects, just as a warning. I will update as soon as I can! .