Chapter 4: The Routine
It had been several weeks since the war had ended, since the paper revealed the list, since she had realized her new life. She was no more than a house elf, and she was quite certain that since the real house elf had received freedom at the hand of her best friend, she was being treated considerably worse. She had lost weight, because the food was either so foul, she would vomit or not enough to feed a mouse. She was still being kept in the dungeon. She had realized in the first week that obeying was easier and far less painful than being stubborn. She'd gotten wand whipped, each time she hesitated, and the only time she had talked back to Lucius Malfoy, he had beaten her so hard that a Death Eater medinurse had been summoned to attend to her…all only so he could put her back to work. Bellatrix was the worst. Bellatrix required that Hermione repeat degrading statements as she worked. "I am a filthy mudblood, unworthy of doing magic, and only good for house service or the entertainment of purebloods." The last portion of the statement had proven most humiliating. Many nights, they would place her under the Imperius curse, forcing her to act as a certain animal, or go into detail about the deaths of friends, laughing tremendously at her pain. Occasionally, she was tortured by way of the Cruciatus curse. The actual housework was a welcome break, at least, when none of the Malfoy's were around or Bellatrix. Though not shocked by his treatment of her, she had originally been hopeful that some shred of decency was in Draco Malfoy, that somewhere in him was the boy she had gone to school with for the past 7 years. That boy never showed up, and she cried every time she saw him. He reminded her of the life that she no longer had. Day in and day out, she was awakened by Lucius Malfoy's booming voice and his wife Narcissa's high pitched scream…each demanding her presence. She cooked, cleaned, serviced, and prepared everything in the household. She was expected to show the same service to all the Death Eaters in the house. She had learned much more about running a muggle household, living in a magical world than she ever had, living in her parent's home. She barely slept, and when she did, her dreams were filled with the screams and cries of friends and loved ones. Hermione realized that it must be close to the end of summer, because she had been required to assist Draco in packing for Hogwarts. "You'll never see it again mudblood…and why is that?" He asked Hermione.
"Because I am a filthy mudblood, unworthy of magic and only good for house service or the entertainment of purebloods," she replied unable to look him in the face.
"Think of it Granger…you'll be my best kept secret. Everyday, I'll see Potter and that bloodtraitor Weasley, all the while, coming home on Holiday and being served by their dead mudblood friend. I bet they're over you by now…Weasley, no doubt, will be snogging that Lavender girl again, It'll be a great year. One mudblood down. We'll take care of the rest when we get control of the newly reformed ministry." Malfoy preached as he continued to gather his things.
"It won't happen Malfoy…your kind will never rule the Ministry. Your father and Bellatrix, and the rest of your sorry lot are wanted everywhere. Death Eaters are being rounded up like the vermin they are." She replied, and almost immediately regretted it. Malfoy's wand slashed through the air, immediately bringing blood to Hermione's cheek. She dropped like a stone to the floor as the wand whipping continued. After 10 or so lashings, Malfoy stood back and looked at the crumpled form of Hermione Granger.
"Get up! You're getting that filthy mudblood on my floor. Get out!" Draco yelled, before kicking her sad form. She scrambled to get out of the way, willing herself to get out of the room. Hours later, Malfoy would be gone, taking with him her memories of Hogwarts.