Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter even though my imagination likes to think it does

YAY, I'm so glad I fooled you all with the last chapter! I think Draco has definitely reached a whole new level of torture here and I can only hope that it goes down from here...Oh, who am I kidding? Heaps more torture to come! And for those of you who were asking whether he really did plan this from the beginning or just decided to go along with her...I'm not telling!

I'm dedicating this chapter to DracosPunkBabe because it was your bday the other day (or so you said hehe) and because your review made me laugh a little too loudly, the way you talk to Draco is hilarious!

Now on with the next Hermione-torture. Please enjoy and please review :)

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Malfoy took great delight in teasing Hermione as much as possible over the next few days. He continued to make her scrub his floor, despite the fact that it was now gleaming so fiercely that she could have sworn she was getting sunburn from it, while he stood over her reciting long and insufferable accounts of the look on her face when he had kissed her. He was being intolerably cruel and Hermione's shame and embarrassment was now long gone, giving way to anger which she was unable to take out in any form whatsoever. She got through the nights biting down hard on her tongue, refusing to take his bait, and singing softly in her head.

But now it wasn't just at night that Hermione had to put up with him - Malfoy had taken a liking to inviting her to meals, only to have her stand in the corner while he ate, usually alone. Occasionally he was joined by his mother and Blaise Zabini, and Hermione couldn't help but smirk despite her fury and humiliation as she could see what Malfoy could not - his mother and his best friend playing footsies beneath the table. Hermione wondered how long their little affair had been going on and she wondered what would happen when Lucius returned home at last. Though, she couldn't help hoping that he never came back - the way the house elves spoke about him made it obvious that he was incomparably evil, even next to his son. And his son was already far gone along the path to hell.

Hermione felt more furious at Malfoy than she had been even after seeing him whip the house elves. It wasn't so much the humiliation of believing he had cared for her that made it so unbearable. It was knowing what was sure to come next, and that she had no way to avoid it. If he wanted to seduce her then that was exactly what he was going to do - slowly and painfully, of course. But she couldn't stop him without putting the lives of the house elves, not to mention herself, at stake. And she refused to let those poor creatures suffer anymore for her own disobedience. She would have to take whatever she got. She hated Malfoy with an all-new passion. Her skin crawled just to be near him.

Thankfully, he had not yet made his next move on her. But Hermione had no doubts that he was simply planning his next attack, the best way to take her dignity next. She shivered every time their eyes met - what was he thinking in that twisted, demented head of his? Would he try to charm her again, or simply take what he wanted? He knew he could do it…and what scared Hermione the most was that she knew he could, too.

It was at breakfast several days later when something happened to stray Hermione away from her thoughts of Malfoy. Halfway through their scrambled eggs, Narcissa cleared her throat importantly and Malfoy looked up from the paper he'd been reading. It was just the two of them this morning - the boy-toy was nowhere in sight today.

'Draco, I have excellent news. Your father will be returning home tonight, he's completed his mission for the Dark Lord at last!'

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, not looking particularly thrilled by this information. But Narcissa didn't seem to notice as she continued on, looking deliriously happy at the return of her husband.

'He's been gone for almost six months, I can't believe he's finally returning!' she seemed close to tears as Malfoy looked bored. Hermione was surprised at the obvious amount of affection Narcissa felt for her husband. What the hell was she doing with Blaise then? And what was Lucius doing that required him to be away for six whole months?

'You know what this means, of course,' Narcissa went on. 'We shall be holding a ball tonight in his honour, out in the gardens. I shall be informing the servants straight after breakfast so they can begin the preparations.'

'Great,' Malfoy muttered sarcastically, turning back to his paper.

'Oh, and one last thing,' Narcissa suddenly turned stern, 'You know your father wants to see you settling down soon, Draco…' as she trailed off Malfoy looked up at her in exasperation.

'Right,' Malfoy said, evidently trying to end their conversation.

'And you know he loves that you're such a little lady's man…' Narcissa looked at her son fondly. Malfoy grunted in reply, holding his paper higher to block her from view.

'But he would like to see you with a suitable mistress, one of the death eater's daughters,' Narcissa pressed on, raising her voice slightly.

'Yeah, yeah, whatever!' Malfoy stood, losing his patience, but Narcissa reached for his hand.

'Draco, listen to me! Your father will be most disappointed if you appear tonight without a date!'

'Mother, please -'

'No, Draco. This is final. Just send an owl to Pansy and invite her.'

'What if I don't feel like talking to Pansy?' Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

'She's invited anyway, Draco. Everybody worth knowing will be here.'

'Mother, I am not in the mood -'

'Draco, this is for your father! Just invite anybody!' Narcissa waved a hand at him in irritation, obviously frustrated that her son seemed so against the idea of spending time in the company of a woman.

'I wouldn't know who to ask, they all bore me,' Malfoy sneered.

'Draco, invite one of the servants for all I care,' she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm, 'Just be there at eight o'clock!' Narcissa was evidently bored with the conversation as she got up to leave. But at her words Malfoy had started and looked around at Hermione. She looked back at him in alarm as a slow smirk spread across his face. She knew that look…

Once Narcissa was safely out of the room, Malfoy sat back into his seat and motioned her over. Hermione approached warily.

'You will accompany to my father's ball tonight, mudblood,' Malfoy stated calmly. Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy.

'You want to take me?'

'Yes, Granger. You will be disguised, of course. I don't want to be seen with a mudblood, let alone a servant.'

Hermione couldn't hold in the questions. His behaviour had certainly changed recently, but this was just ridiculous. Hermione, in a house full of death eaters who all hated her guts and would kill her on the spot?

'Why? Master?' she added quickly, seeing the look on his face.

'Because. It will give me much more pleasure to watch you squirming than to suffer through an entire night with one of the death eater's daughters. They are only interested in sleeping with me.'

Hermione stared at him in shock.

'And that holds no appeal for you?' she asked slowly, honestly curious at his words. Malfoy shrugged and grinned devilishly.

'I've already bedded all of them. All the attractive ones, at least. So no, there is no appeal for me.' He spoke about it so casually it made Hermione blush.

'But…you hate me,' she stammered, still refusing to believe he truly wanted to take her to his ball.

'Of course I do, mudblood,' Malfoy said calmly, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, 'But as I already explained to you, I will have a much more enjoyable night watching you suffer than being felt up by a bunch of pathetic sluts. They will try anyway, but with you at my side they will have to restrain themselves.'

'But…I won't know anyone.'

'So?' Malfoy said coolly, supremely unconcerned.

'What if I say something stupid?'

'You always do, Granger. Just keep your pretty little mouth shut and try not to let the other women walk all over you.'

Hermione scowled. That seemed like slight a contradiction, but she wisely let it slide.

'Will they all be horrible to me?' she asked apprehensively. Malfoy smirked.

'Yes, they will be. They won't even know that it's you, but they still will be,' this seemed to amuse him greatly.

'Who will I talk to?'

'Mudblood, did I not just tell you to keep your mouth shut? Unless spoken to first, of course. And you will stay by my side all evening.'

Hermione couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at this.

'I wouldn't have thought you would want to spend an entire night with a mudblood like me.'

'I will not repeat my motives to you again, Granger.' Malfoy said with warning in his voice. 'You are coming with me and that's final. We will dance and drink and pretend to be happy, understood?'

'Yes…master,' Hermione said meekly.

'Of course, I will be happy anyway. You will provide me with endless entertainment,' Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself from smacking him across his smirking face.

'Now, the arrangements,' Malfoy continued, 'You will meet me in my room at eight o'clock. You will bathe and get ready. You will wear the dress I prepare for you. I will cast a concealment charm on your face so that nobody but me will recognise you. Your name will be…' he paused to think, 'Your name will be Pearl. Pearl Shadows. Understood?'

'But your mother said to be there at eight -'

'Granger, I am never on time to a party. Especially my own. Understood?'

Hermione nodded numbly. Then something suddenly came to her.

'Will…will he be there?' Malfoy didn't need to ask who she meant.

'No,' he said simply, his eyes seeming to darken. There was a moment's silence before Narcissa's voice cut through the air, making Hermione jump.

'MUDBLOOD! GET DOWN HERE!' Hermione hurried out of the room with one last curious look at Malfoy, who had returned to his paper and ignored her. She made her way down to the kitchens and found the house elves all surrounding Narcissa, waiting for their orders for the day.

'There is to be a garden ball tonight,' Narcissa began, strolling back and forwards. 'My husband is returning -' Hermione could have sworn that the house elves shared looks of terror at this news, '- so it must be the best party the wizarding world has ever seen. You all know what to do.'

And with that Narcissa stomped back upstairs as if the house elves disgusted her more than anything. As soon as she was gone the elves broke out into terrified squeaks.

'He is returning!' they were saying over and over again. Hermione watched them in disarray.

'Is he that bad?' she asked quietly. They nodded, unable to speak, and dashed off to begin their chores for the party as if terrified Lucius Malfoy would suddenly jump out of the oven and attack if they were too slow.

'Miss, come on -' Minky was pulling at the hem of Hermione's dress, tugging her upstairs. She pulled her all the way out to the gardens in silence. Already there were a dozen elves, dragging out ladders and hanging up delicate fairy lights. Minky handed Hermione a pair of shearers.

'We is to prune the rest of the bushes,' she whispered, 'We can makes them snakes, skulls, hands, dragons, all dark things!'

Hermione nodded, entirely creeped out by the sudden terrified atmosphere. She and Minky set to work, and soon Hermione was well into the rhythm of trimming. She made several snakes, a few hands clutching wands, and even attempted a dementor. Really, it was quite fun to prune the trees, she thought.

She concentrated on the shrubs before her to avoid thinking of the ordeal she was going to be put through tonight. Damn Malfoy, he always had new and cruel ways to torture her. And this was his perfect opportunity - if she was pretending to be his date he could grope her freely. Hermione squirmed at the realisation that he would probably try and kiss her and she would have to kiss him back. The thought of dancing with him made her skin itch. And then there were the other guests - he had promised her that the women would be nasty to her. It seemed a bit far-fetched, that they would hate her just because she was with him.

But they wouldn't even be the worst of it. Lucius Malfoy sounded like a monster and Hermione was petrified of him already. She was curious to see the interaction between him and his son - Malfoy obviously was harbouring some very serious hostilities against his father. She wondered again how Narcissa would react - she had seemed blissfully happy at the prospect this morning. Would she miss Blaise? Would they continue their affair? Somehow Hermione didn't think so. She didn't think anyone would dare to defy Lucius Malfoy under his own roof when he himself was present.

At around four o'clock Hermione suddenly saw Narcissa watching them from the deck, looking satisfied. Next to her was a man Hermione recognised with a shiver as Norfolk. She hadn't seen him since the dinner in which Malfoy had invited his friends to laugh at her. As she looked at him, Hermione felt her stomach tighten as she found him staring at her, his expression unmistakeable. He licked his lips greedily and Hermione gulped. She could still remember the way he had grabbed her at the camps and forced his tongue down her throat. Maybe being with Malfoy tonight wouldn't be such a bad idea. But then Hermione reminded herself that she would be unrecognisable. The idea was an immense relief.

As the sun began to set the elves and Hermione made their way downstairs to prepare the food for the guests. It was enticingly delicious: they made stacks of tiny cupcakes, tarts she had never dreamed of, cocktails filled with swirling colours. Hermione found that her mouth was watering - she hadn't eaten something so beautiful-looking her entire life.

The elves were delighted by her praise and growling stomach and insisted that she become taste tester for the evening. Hermione was happy to help, sampling everything one by one and offering her expert opinion - everything was perfect.

'Honestly, I don't know how you guys do it!' she exclaimed, licking the icing of a cake off her finger.

'Thank you, miss! You is too kind!' one of the elves grinned, offering her a cookie shaped like a butterfly - obviously for the female guests. There were skull cookies as well, which made Hermione want to roll her eyes. Death Eaters were so predictable.

'Please, all of you! Call me Hermione,' she said for the hundredth time. The elves looked at each other unsurely, but Hermione repeated herself. 'Really, it would make me so happy if you did.'

That seemed to cheer the house elves up even more.

'Hermione!' could be heard coming from almost every mouth in the room for the remainder of the cooking preparations and Hermione couldn't help but grin at their enthusiasm of saying her name. It was incredible how something so trivial to a human could brighten up their whole day - no, week.

'It's almost eight o'clock!' one of them suddenly squeaked. The mood changed instantly, their terrified expressions returning.

'Does that mean Lucius is here?' Hermione asked anxiously. They shook their heads.

'No, miss - I means, Hermione. He is to appear at midnight.' Hermione nodded. So at least she wouldn't be introduced to him for a few hours. Above them, the sound of adult voices could suddenly be heard coming from the gardens. Hermione sighed and put down the cookie she had bitten into.

'I have to go now,' she said regrettably. The elves nodded, looking as nervous as she felt, and waved her goodbye. Hermione made her way cautiously upstairs, and breathed a sigh of relief to find the entrance hall empty, but looking stunning. She reminded herself to congratulate the elves tomorrow on their amazing skills. Lights hung everywhere, casting an eerie but beautiful pinkish glow over the hall. The floors, walls and even ceiling sparkled like they had been polished down to their foundations. There was the faint sound of classical music that seemed to be coming from the very air itself.

Hermione shook her head in amazement. She couldn't believe she was about to go to the most glamorous party in the wizarding world, with Draco Malfoy. It would be torture and she knew that was exactly why he was doing it. The only plus side that she could see was that Voldemort would not be attending. She wondered nervously if anyone would know she was a mudblood. She was astonished to find that now even she was calling herself a mudblood.

Hermione sighed and made her way upstairs without pausing to look at the rest of the house - she would be late if she took any more time, and God help her if she had to go to the party with fresh whippings on her back.

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oooh, what will happen next? Stay tuned...and let me know your thoughts :)