She's a Beauty, He's a Beast
Summary: Draco finds Hermione ready to be sold as a slave, and with no apparent reason takes her in. No doubt, the beginning of their relationship is rocky, but soon, Draco sees the beauty and her, and Hermione just might heal Draco in ways he never knew he could be healed. Dramione 3
Chapter 1: To the Manor
Hermione had no idea how things could've been so wrong. They had it, they were so close to defeating Voldemort, and yet, they we so far away. And every night, locked her cage covered with a dark, musty old cloth, Hermione had to face the fact that they had lost, that Ron and Harry were in Azkaban now, probably drained of their souls. Every single night, Hermione cursed the beings of all the death eaters, Voldemort, but mostly, she cursed herself. She had let the world down.
Hermione was knocked out of her thoughts when she heard a death eater approach her cage.
"We don't have many left, Mister Malfoy," the death eater sneered. "But here's one we think may be of best use."
The death eater ripped off the cloth, as if she were some exhibit in a garbage museum. Blinded from the light Hermione has not seen in weeks, and humiliated, she backed away farther into the cage at curled up into a ball. The death eater racked the cage violently.
"Look up, slave," he demanded. "Look up, you filthy mudblood."
Hermione held her ground, not wanting to show any weakness. She had lost so much already, she would not lose her dignity. Never.
"Crucio!" The man screamed, and Hermione was thrown on her back, pain searing through her heart and her mind as, like a bolt of lightning, memories of Ron and Harry and she laughing in the fields of Hogwarts appeared in her mind, and then were quickly stripped away as quickly as they had come.
Hermione was crying, indeed. But not from the physical pain. From the emotional pain. She looked up, her face close to the cage. And then, and then she noticed someone. Cold, grey eyes were boring into her lifeless brown ones, with in difference, not a single emotion could be spotted. Her eyes narrowed. It was him. Draco fucking Malfoy, the bane of her existence, her tormentor, like her own personal Satan.
"Smart one, she is, smart and strong yes, and I bet, Mister Malfoy, if you clean her up a bit, she can be very," the death eater took her chin in his hand. "Pretty."
She spit on him. He slapped her.
"Unfortunately, she can be quite a bit of a smart-ass."
"Entirely too familiar my good sir, entirely too familiar." Malfoy's voice had shivers running up her back. It was dangerous, too dangerous. Draco took her chin in his slender hand gently through the bars. He couldn't help but notice how thin she was. "How much for this one?" He asked the death eaters, his eyes still boring through hers.
The death eater was surprised; he thought Draco would want a more prestige slave, not a mudblood.
"Mister Malfoy, we have some very nice-looking half-blood breeds—"
Draco stood up, removing his hand from Hermione's chin and repeated in a haunting voice, "How much for the fucking mudblood?"
The man was shaking. "2 galleons, sir, 2 galleons."
Draco flicked to golden coins into the death eaters hands and waved him off with his slender hand. "Have a grand day." He sneered.
Once the death eater exited the room, Draco looked at Hermione through the cage, his eyes unreadable. "Good morning, Granger."
"Fuck off." She replied hoarsely. That was the first she had spoken in a week.
Draco's eyes quickly flashed angrily, and he cupped Hermione's chin again, much harder than he did before. "You will listen, Granger, if you do not wish to be hurt. You are my slave now, and shall do as I say, understood?"
Hermione just stared at him. The anger in his grey stare lessened, and so did his hold on her jaw. He carefully unlocked the cage with a silent 'alohamora' and made way for Hermione to exit the cage. She made no move.
Draco Malfoy knew she was stubborn, but he also had some experience on how her stubbornness can cloud her common sense. He sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.
"Granger," he started, gently, reaching out for her through the cage. She recoiled back. "Would you rather stay here with that man or eat some decent food instead of stale bread and muddy water?"
Her head snapped up immediately, her brown eyes burning with intensity that she had not acquired in weeks. She didn't understand why he was being so, so well, not unkind to her, considering she is his slave now. She knew he probably had some ulterior motives, probably going to practice some unforgivable on her or, or…
"What do you care, Malfoy? What the bloody hell are you doing caring? Do you know how horrible you made the world, just by helping your bloody Dark Lord and his gang of fuck-wits." She sneered.
"I never said I cared, Mudblood. Get out of the fucking cage." He replied, deadly calm.
Without waiting for her to climb out herself, he yanked her wrist and ignored her yelp, dragging her out of her cage and side-along Apparating to their destination.
Hermione had not Apparated in such a long time, that when they landed, she immediately turned to the side a puked for what seemed like hours. She retched, and retched as if it would rid of all her nightmares, even though it was a ridiculous thought, considering one of her biggest nightmares was right beside her.
She turned and looked up, and gasped.
It was the Malfoy Manor.
She unconsciously looked at her left upper arm, for under that distressed sleeve was a scar that constantly reminded her how unwelcome she was to this world. This scar reminded her of her defeat, and how much her efforts were wasted. She was mudblood, she was constantly reminded. She was dirty, tainted, a piece of swine.
"It's almost funny really," she said quietly to herself. "How when I got this scar, there wasn't any mud in the blood that I shed." A tear fell down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away, looking down at the cold stone pathway before the rusty gate.
Draco analyzed the girl standing in front of him. He knew she still thought him to be an immature bastard. Heck, we still was an immature bastard, just a smarter one. He really was just bored and looking for a, hmm, should we say 'playmate'? But he saw her and he saw how miserable she looked in that rusty cage, and how hungrily the man had looked at her, and under some impulse, he bought her. And now he didn't know what to do.
He didn't know why he bought her. Actually, he did, but he didn't want to admit it to himself.
Granger was a walking stick, her bones sticking out from all areas where he could see, and her hair was more like a bird's nest than it ever was. Her eyes were the worst ever. They, they were lifeless. No burning annoying Gryffindor determination, no courage, no, no nothing. No spark. And in truth it scared Draco.
He watched her silently as she stared at the Manor, her eyes widening in fear with a memory that they probably both shared. Draco's thoughts were confirmed when she looked at the arm where they both knew the scar was.
And what Draco heard next was even more haunting.
"It's almost really funny," She whispered under her breath. "How when I got this scar, there wasn't any mud in the blood that I shed."
Draco had the silliest idea to remember that day, in the drawing room, just to confirm. But he had common sense. She was right.
There wasn't any mud in the blood that she shed.
Hey Guys! My name's Jade :) Hope you read the summary, and please review. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but try not to flame. Unless it horrible.