Disclaimer:I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters.

Hey guys, so it's been a while. I know, but life's been very stressful as of late what with new, incompetent teachers and all. But what can you do? When life gives you lemons, you squeeze them right back into life's eyes. So the aim of this chapter was to try and demonstrate the changing dynamics of Draco's inner conflict as well as Hermione's growing desperation for freedom and also her thoughts on this new pregnancy. Like Draco, she too is warring with herself, but about how she feels about this new...ahem...development. I hope you like it.


Chapter VII

What was she to think of this new development? It had taken her completely by surprise, for she had thought that he may have been a little smarter and used some kind of protection before forcing himself on her. However her shock was completely overpowered by her unadulterated fear. What would he do to her? What would he do to...it? She was reluctant to regard the little thing that she was certain grew inside of her as a human being as of yet, for it was still a part of him. It was still part Malfoy and there wasn't one Malfoy she could name that wasn't cruel and deranged.

She didn't like the way that this news sat with her for it made her feel wrong within her own skin, knowing that she carried his child. It made her want to be sick with disgust, especially knowing that it was conceived out of an unholy and derogatory offence against her own person.

She dreaded to think what might happen if he found out. She didn't think she could stomach birthing the next generation of Malfoys who she knew would be just as evil as their predecessors. How could she live with herself while watching Malfoy brainwash her child and turning it into a monster just like him? She couldn't love a child like that, she couldn't love a child who might possibly bear a resemblance to the man that struck fear deep within her heart, and she was sure that she couldn't come to love a child that came about as a result of her own rape.

What if he decided that he liked her pregnant? She shuddered at the thought. In fact, she was certain that she would rather slit her own throat over the future that she envisaged for herself. He would use her to spawn himself an army of Death Eaters who he would brainwash to hate her - of that she was sure. After all, Lucius had done the exact same thing with his son. Despite her lack of affection for this child, she knew that it didn't deserve the life that came with being a Malfoy, not in the world that they lived in today. It wouldn't be fair to any child to be forced into that.

And yet, try as she might, she couldn't completely ignore the motherly instinct that was niggling away at the back of her mind. Despite the fact that the child she knew she carried was half of Malfoy, it was also half of her too. Perhaps, with her influence, she could eradicate, or at least minimise the Malfoy traits that might possibly lead her child astray. Perhaps she could learn to love the baby if she really tried. But if that was to happen, she needed to escape from this place before he found out.

She was snapped from her daze when the water in the bath had long gone cold. Her skin was polka-dotted with goosebumps and her hair had started to dry from the roots. Her face was ashen and faint frown lines graced her forehead, only a small indication of her perils, torment and the raging battle that was currently taking place behind her troubled amber eyes. She lowered her head slowly to look at the bare expanses of skin over her stomach, distorted as the surface of the water rippled above it.

She lowered her hand into the freezing water, skating her fingertips over her navel curiously as Pinky sat quietly working on her new dress. She pressed down slightly, only to feel the slight amount of fat on her stomach cushioning her prodding. There wasn't even a bump to show for her condition, although that was expected for she could be no more than a month or so along depending on when she conceived.

It seemed as though in the past few minutes, the dynamics of her whole world had changed. A world that only yesterday held no form of hope for her had suddenly given her a possible reason to live. But then again, it might not. In fact, it might be all the incentive that Malfoy needed to finally do what she had been waiting for all along and just get rid of her.

Both voices inside her head were screaming. Her sanity was crying out for her to find a way to rid herself of what could become another of Voldemort's lackeys in order to save herself from spiralling into an abyss of depression and insanity, while her conscience, on the other hand (which was strictly pro-life) told her that she mustn't condemn this child due to the actions of its father. It reminded her vehemently that she could nurture this child to be everything that a Malfoy wasn't and that she could learn to love it.

There was all but one thing in which they disagreed; he mustn't know. At all costs, he mustn't know.

~*:*~

Fortunately for her, he was tired when he returned from work that day. She could tell by the way that he dragged his feet across the carpet as he entered the bedroom, with the shoulders of his silhouette slumped. She caught a whiff of his Death Eater robes as he shed them from his body, overwhelming her with the scent of blood and smoke which were only reminiscent of the havoc he had wreaked that day. She dreaded to think whose blood had been spilt, fearing that it might have been Adrian, Emma, Colin or anybody else that she held dear to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and slowly curled herself into the foetal position beneath the covers, hoping it was enough to convince him that she was asleep. She felt the covers being drawn back off her torso before the mattress dipped. She daren't reach down and pull it back over her shoulders, despite the chill in the air, in case he saw through her act. Her hand subconsciously cradled her flat stomach and she had to work hard to steady her breathing, enough to feign sleep.

She felt him gently pick up a tendril of her curly locks and twirl it around his nimble fingers. Her breathing hitched as she waited for him to do what she knew he longed to do.

"I know you're awake. Although I admire your efforts, you're far too tense to be asleep. In my state of fatigue you almost had me fooled." He remarked through a smirk as his hand drifted from her hair to her shoulder, shielded from him by the cotton of her new nightgown. He could feel the muscles tense beneath his fingertips as they glided across the smooth fabric. He removed his fingers, only to replace them with his lips which planted what were supposed to be loving kisses to her shoulder. From his angle, he could see how her eyes were squeezed shut tightly and her tiny hands clenched the fabric covering her belly as she endured his amorous attention.

His lips turned lax on her shoulder as his eyes fixed on her face. His silvery orbs were not filled with anger nor hatred as he gazed upon her, which was what one would expect to see whenever she looked into his eyes. But when she turned away, she wouldn't realise that the anger melted away only to be replaced with what could be described as a combination of hopelessness and guilt however there was still that sliver of resentment that remained in his molten orbs.

With a deep and slightly irritated sigh, he removed himself from her person and carelessly slumped onto the mattress beside her, despising how her shoulders sagged with relief when they felt the absence of his touch. He noticed how she didn't dare to move, lying as still as a corpse beside him with her warmth being the only thing that reassured him of the life within her. The duvet lay across her hip, although he could tell that she was cold by the way she was huddled up, yet she made no move to reach for it. Had he really instilled so much fear in her?

Good. Snarled a voice inside his head. His mind warred within itself constantly when it came to the Mudblood lying only inches away from him. After all, he had been raised a Malfoy - the most prestigious of Wizarding families, known particularly for their loyalty to the Dark Lord and their ridiculous wealth. As a result of this, the whole idea of blood superiority had been instilled in his mind from a young age, teaching him that people like her were filthy, lesser beings and that they weren't even fit to clean his boots. It was a very difficult lesson to unlearn, for it would mean going against everything that he, his family and his cause stood for.

Although never let it be said that it hadn't been tried. In the past, someone dear to him had tried to uproot the chauvinistic and superior attitude that had been a key characteristic of the Malfoys. Needless to say, she had failed and as a result his belief had only festered with his rage.

Draco stopped his thoughts from leading him down the dangerous path in which they were heading and abruptly grabbed the bed sheet from where it rested on her hip causing her to raise her hands defensively in fear of what she suspected was about to happen. He paused, before dragging the sheets up slowly and draping them over her shoulders. He saw the confusion culminating in her eyes as a small crease appeared in her brow. She looked adorable, almost.

He shook his head to himself to rid his mind of the poisoning, treacherous thoughts before his eyes reverted back to their usual anger and hatred.

"What? Do you want me to fuck you?" He barked harshly.

Deciding it would be best not to provoke him in his ire, she lowered her gaze awkwardly at his crude wording. "No." She muttered, embarrassed.

"Well go to bloody sleep then." He muttered coldly, before turning himself away from her and clamping his eyes shut. He stayed this way for what felt like hours as he tried desperately to catch the rest that continually evaded him so. The breathing beside him had slowed and deepened, so that he knew she was asleep, bundled up in the bed sheets as she surrendered herself to her dreams. He turned onto his opposite side, to find that she had fallen asleep in her watchful position of him which he thought was curious as she usually preferred to sleep with her back to him - that was if she slept at all. Some mornings he would wake to find that she was still in the same position that he had left her the previous night with her eyes glazed over and bloodshot with the remnants of her tears staining her cheeks,

He liked her best when she slept, for she seemed somewhat tranquil compared to how she conducted herself when she was awake. He wasn't blind, far from it in fact and could tell what being here was doing to her. The life and spirit that he had detested with a passion were quickly fading away turning her into more and more of what he could only really describe as a living corpse. He traced his finger lightly over the slight crease in her brow as she frowned subconsciously. He jerked his hand away quickly when she stirred, wondering just why he endured all the troubles that came with keeping her for his own.

~*:*~

"What am I?" She asked out of the blue the next morning as she curled up in her usual repose beneath the window, turning her back from him politely as he dressed somewhere behind her. She ran her fingers lightly through the condensation on the glass that had resulted from her own warm breath. She assumed that it was almost Christmas by now, for she could see several lamp posts from her angle that had tinsel adorning them which shimmered brightly in the darkness of the early winter morning. "Am I a prisoner here? Or just your personal fuck toy?" She asked distastefully.

She didn't know he was approaching her before it was too late. He grabbed her roughly by the chin and forced her to look into his eyes which were blazing with anger.

"You will be whatever I wish you to be." He said coldly before turning to leave the room.

"But must you keep me caged in here?" She asked, although her voice betrayed her and broke as she pleaded with him. He stopped, his hand froze in its path to the doorknob, keys in hand. She bit her tongue, imagining the wrath that she had just brought unto herself with her foolish words, wishing desperately that she could take it back. He turned slowly and strode towards where she was reclined before the window.

"I will do as I please because you are my property. You gave yourself to me. Remember that Mudblood." She could see him beginning to turn away from her again. The panic rose in her eyes, she could not spend another day wasting away within his bedroom with her only thoughts being of the intruder that sought refuge inside her unwelcoming womb. Without thinking, she stood quickly, reaching forwards and grasped the front of his robes tightly, dragging him back towards her. Before he could open his mouth in protest, she had forced her lips onto his while trying desperately to suppress the feelings of disgust and shame that crept upon her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting a hit of some sort for her bold manoeuvre - that was, until his lips mellowed against hers. In all honesty, she was sure that she would much rather have preferred the hit that she had originally expected. His eager lips moulded against every inch of her hesitant and unwilling ones as every single fantasy he had ever conjured featuring a willing version of her rushed to the front of his mind making him feel somewhat euphoric. This is what had been missing every time he had been with her intimately. This was why he felt the hollow emptiness inside of him each time he thrust himself into her reluctant warmth. He wanted her to be responsive. But why?!

For the first time in his life, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and surrendered control of himself to his instincts and feelings. He lifted his hand and cupped it tenderly around the back of her neck to hold her head in place, relishing in the feelings of her spontaneous and rather unexpected display of affection. The feeling was foreign, but he found that he liked it immensely feeling a kind of warmth spreading through his chest which contrasted the cool adrenaline that shot through his veins. These feelings were the only things which were assuring him that he was in the real world and not in the throes of some twisted but rather pleasing fantasy.

Lost within the sensations that she was providing, he pushed her roughly against the wall. She began to panic, not intending for things to have gone this far in the first place. His lips became increasingly demanding and passionate as they moved from her lips to her neck, too absorbed in his own fantasies to notice that she was beginning to fight him off. His hands smoothed down her sides, over her curves, before lifting her legs up to hook them around his hips while anchoring her into the wall.

"Malfoy!" She gasped, trying desperately to remove his hold on her legs as he ravaged her neck. Revulsion was stirring inside of her, paired with morning sickness made this a dangerous combination. "Malfoy! Stop-" she let out a strangled cry.

This snapped him back to reality. The fear and repulsion became evident in her eyes and the momentary lapse of his control was quickly overcome. He let his mind regain power over his actions and emotions as he slowly reacquainted himself with reality. The flood of affection which he had previously felt was quickly reigned in to the deep recesses of his heart and firmly locked away and in its place was a scorching surge of anger. She swallowed hard as she saw the silver in his eyes cool to its usual steely grey.

"You filthy whore. You're beginning to want this aren't you? You want me to fuck you, don't you?" He scoffed, his upper lip twitching with anger. "It's difficult for me to deny anything to my favourite Mudblood slut." He grinned sadistically, tightening his grip around her legs while pressing her against the wall so that escape was an impossibility. He pulled the skirts of her dress up around her waist, exposing her lower half before reaching down to free himself from his robes.

She feared that his brutality might cause some damage to both her and the unexpected guest inside her womb. Despite the fact that she hadn't quite made up her mind as to how she felt about her pregnancy, she didn't want the baby to get hurt because of his rough treatment of her, and so it was with great shame and trepidation that she relaxed her inner muscles to minimise the damage she knew he would cause otherwise.

He pushed himself into her with great force, thinking that he would meet her usual resistance but found instead that he didn't meet a single obstacle in his entrance. He made a choked gasping sound as he struggled to contain his immense pleasure within himself, before looking down at her to find her head turned as far away from his as it would go, so that she would not accidentally catch his eye. He could see the tears, but ploughed on regardless.

It did hurt considerably less, physically. But emotionally she was falling apart after willingly offering up her own submission and obedience while he did unspeakable things to her. It felt strange to not fight him off despite every fibre of her being screaming at her to fight for her freedom. Luckily for her, she did not have to endure her turmoil for long as he came relatively quickly at this new experience and removed himself from her once more.

After a few moments, he began to right himself once more while attempting to slow his breathing enough to be considered normal.

"You disgust me, harlot." He said snidely, without turning to face her.

Her anger finally boiled over and she shot up, marching towards him with intent, her skirts falling back down her legs as she stood while his essence dribbled down her thighs. She grabbed his shoulder with both hands in order to turn him.

"I disgust you? Don't tell me now that you didn't enjoy that." She let out a hysterical laugh, accentuating each of her syllables with a jab to his chest. "I saw it in your eyes, Malfoy. The sad reality is that you're too tired of fucking a lifeless corpse now, aren't you?"

"What man wouldn't tire of such?" He scoffed. "I think you forget that our encounters could be something to anticipate, as opposed to something to fear. If only you would relent and give yourself to me." He said darkly, his tone laced with possessiveness.

"But I thought I already belonged to you?" She said tartly. When he didn't reply she continued. "What more is there for me to possibly give? You take everything you want from me as it is, why should I surrender myself so you can satisfy your own whims and fantasies?"

Because it would feel so good! He wanted to scream at her, but his mind refrained him from doing such. He could not lose his power because he wanted her to fuck him like she meant it. It wasn't worth it, not by a long shot. Besides, some part of his mind was probably confused. He didn't really want her, surely it was some kind of spell or enchantment that attracted him to her but he knew the truth. He knew he despised her and what he was doing was only to teach her how to fall in line.

"So I can truly break you." He smiled maliciously. His eyes darkening so that they were verging on black. "Since you've already proven your obedience to me, I think you can spend the day out of this room for change under the watch of the house elves." He smirked at seeing her contemplating whether or not to protest at his conditions, obviously wanting to explore the house at her own whim. "You'll soon come to learn that when you please me, you will be rewarded. In fact, the sooner you learn that, the easier your life here will be." He leaned in to kiss her one last time and she instinctively leant away, making him chuckle slightly at her defiance before he left the room, locking the door behind him.

~*:*~

"I is done with the morning chores now, Missy. Is you having lunch today?" Pinky asked, returning from her perch on the fine Persian carpet in the main parlour of the house, finished with scrubbing the fireplace.

Hermione thought long and hard about whether or not it was wise to eat after a rather horrific episode of morning sickness only a few hours ago. She had had to hide inside the bathroom for what seemed like an eon, trying to dull the sound of her retching as so not to alert the house elves to her condition.

"Actually, lunch would be very nice indeed Pinky." Hermione decided, knowing now that she would be able to watch the food being made to make sure there wasn't anything that Malfoy could try and slip into it without her knowing. The little house elf skipped forward and grabbed her by the hand before leading her through the house again as she absorbed the details of her new prison at her own leisure. The house had a sort of soulless grandeur to it, much like the renowned Malfoy Manor had had, in fact, it could be compared to the Malfoys themselves; devastatingly beautiful but also emotionless and untouchable. Although now she had come to know one of them better, she supposed she could add evil to the list too.

They arrived in the kitchen and Hermione hauled herself up onto the counter as she watched Pinky performing the necessary preliminary preparations. Her eyes were drawn to the window above the sink which looked out onto the back garden, alive with lush, dewy grasses that were slightly frosted due to the temperature outside. She imagined that it would crunch beneath her shoes as she walked through it, while the chill in the air brought a rosy tint to her cheeks and nose. Her heart started to beat just that little bit faster when she realised that there was only one door that stood between her and the outside world right now. Propped up against the wall in the garden was a broom, an old one at that, but still a broom and despite her terrible fear of flying, she was sure that she could overcome it just this once if freedom was her reward. Perhaps this was her chance.

"Is there being anything that Missy liking Pinky to cook?" Pinky asked politely as she dried her hands on the pillowcase that she wore. The possibilities were endless, but despite her ravenous appetite, all she could think of was how close her freedom was to her right at this moment. She could get away from Malfoy right now if she tried. She would be free to live her life again, she could run away, find Adrian and her people before starting anew somewhere where blood purity was but a ridiculed idea amongst civilised Wizarding society.

Except she couldn't. Her heart sank as she remembered the tiny intruder who was nestled quite comfortably inside of her womb. She was forever bound to Malfoy through this child, and that didn't sit quite right with her. It was the fault in all of her plans. Would Adrian still love her if she carried the bastard child of the man he claimed to despise? Would her people accept her and this child with open arms? Of course not, they would see her as a whore who was only sleeping with the enemy to save her own skin. She would be ostracised, an outcast, a pariah.

Despite all of these things, she felt a strange sort of connection to the baby inside of her even though she was sure that she should despise it with all of her being. It was still a part of her after all and even though she had had earlier doubts, she wouldn't give it up for the world. Perhaps it would be better if she simply vanished and left everything and everyone behind.

"Surprise me." She uttered finally to the elf who gave her a questioning look before making her way through the extensive kitchen and into the pantry. Hermione craned her head while leaning forward off the counter to see Pinky bobbing her head as she looked for specific ingredients before cradling them in her arms. She felt terrible for leaving Pinky behind, but she knew the elf would never leave her Master. She was far too loyal.

Hermione silently slid off the counter and padded over to the door, keeping her gaze fixed on Pinky's back as she crept across the kitchen. She held her breath as she stretched out her hand to the knob of the door, praying to God that it was unlocked. She twisted it harshly, and her heart sang to find that it was unlocked and so with a vicious yank the door was thrown open and she burst out into the garden.

"Missy!" She heard Pinky's screech from somewhere in the pantry, but paid no heed to it as she dashed across the frosted grass which crunched beneath her feet as she predicted as she ran. She grabbed hold of the old, crooked broom propped up against the wall and sped through the garden while trying to mount it as she had been taught many years before. In fact, she hadn't touched a broom since her First Year, and after this she would never use one again.

With all of her might, she kicked off from the ground and gripped the broom tightly as it rose and wobbled frantically with her weight. Pinky was running out of the house towards her now, pleading with her to come back down but Hermione ignored her. She squeezed her eyes shut as so not to see how far up she was and with a determined breath, she sped away with the taste of freedom and fresh air lingering on her tongue.