Her fingers had gone a sickly white color, pruning at the tips. It had taken her under four hours to get all the laundry done with no magic. Noticing every once in a while how her sisters put things down the wash chute that were not in fact dirty.
Frustration brought tears dangerously close to the corner of her eyes, but she would not cry.
Its what they wanted, and she refused to allow it. If it wasn't for the registry of blood lines, she would have run by now. But of course, before Bellatrix let word of her father's death reach her. She was already registered as a house servant.
And no matter how many fantastic plans she thought up she couldn't think of a way past that stupid registry and out of the kingdom.
As time passed she had come to a stark realization about her father. He loved her as much as he could. Showered her with gifts and lessons. But that also meant he shielded her from the racist reality that was the kingdom she lives in. Small memories from her childhood suddenly made more sense the more she thought about it. And the reason he rarely let her out of the house and into the nearby town was now vividly clear.
The bell above the basement doorway rang vigorously as she emptied the sink. Letting her know that it was now time to server supper.
She decided on a simple roasted chicken with peas and mashed potatoes to accompany it. Thanking her father for teaching her how to cook. It seemed to be the one thing that they did not complain about.
After serving dinner she went back down to the basement to await the dishes and the scraps for her own meal. Sitting in at the old wobbly table shoved into the corner of the room with barley any light. Normally after dinner the dishes were sent down by the conveyor for her to wash then the day would be done. Or sometimes Bellatrix would have the girls practice sending them down with magic. Resulting in an even bigger mess and a trip to the city for new plates in the morning. Making Hermione fume as she knew not one, but three repair charms perfect for the shattered porcelain. Then it would be off to bed for the night right away, as she wanted at least a few meager hours that they allowed her.
This is how it had been for the past six months since Bellatrix had sold off the rest of the house servants. So, she couldn't help but jump when the bell rang so loud it fell off its hook above the basement door.
"HERMOINE!"
Her name was shouted down the stairs as she swallowed a mouthful of cold peas. Sending her rushing up the squeaky steps and out to the landing.
"Oh a ball!" Pansy said as she squealed, dancing up and down on the tips of her toes.
"I want my dress to be purple," Lavender sighed as the thought of dancing with the Malfoy prince appeared in her mind.
"Now my flowers you will both get the dresses you desire," Bellatrix cooed sweetly before turning to Hermione, "What took you so long?" she seethed. Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Bellatrix placed a hand in her face.
"No matter," she said as she pulled a pouch of galleons from her breast, "Tomorrow you will go into town and order tow dresses for Lav and Pansy."
Hermione nodded and obeyed. The past few months they had beat that into her. Thankfully, they ignored her to rejoice over the upcoming party. Already whispering plans on how they would woo the prince into marrying one of them. Then arguing over who would be the one to marry.
"A masked ball?" Draco questioned his mother as she flicked her wand to cycle through fabric colors.
"Yes, I thought it may be fun," Narcissa giggled as she brought two swaths of fabrics together.
"How am I supposed to pick a bride if I can't see anyone's faces?"
"Oh, nonsense Astoria will be there," she said as he scowled.
That girl had been trailing after him since they were children. Laying in the same bed as her made him shiver. She could barely preform half the spells he could. Her and every other potential bride were only after one thing, his status.
"Why the frown my Dragon?" his mother asked as she finally stopped with her fabric selection to look at him.
"I do not want to marry that girl."
His mother smiled and took his hand, patting it softly as she took him to sit on the ball room steps.
"Believe it or not I was not very fond of your father when we married," she sighed. Draco looked at his mother with a raised brow before turning his head to glare at the floor.
"But over time, my dragon," she placed the side of her finger under his chin, lifting his face to look at her, "You will love her."
The clicking of heels distracted them to the door. An older maid with fire red hair stood in the doorway. She bowed before speaking.
"Prince Malfoy your father has requested you in the great hall."
"You best be going, you know how he is," his mother nodded as she stood. Draco mumbled some sort of response before leaving.
The walk to the great hall was methodically slow. Draco had been avoiding that part of the castle all day. its where his father entertained guests. This one he wasn't fond of.
Voldemort.
Said to be one of the most powerful wizards of all the four kingdoms. He had been speaking with his father since last summer about his plans for the "perfect" kingdom. And how he thought Slytherin was already well on its way to that dream. Draco had been lucky enough to sit in on the meetings. Seeing as he was about to be king. He was even there for when his father took the mark. Making him part of the inner circle.
But Draco couldn't help but have a foul taste come to his mouth every time he sat in and got a status update on their grand plans. He hated mubloods and muggles as much as any other pureblood that was worthwhile. But with them exterminated who would do all the housework?
They couldn't expect him to start cleaning or doing laundry. The thought of him face first into a wash pan disgusted him more than marrying Astoria. And he would be able to use magic.
He waved his hand as he neared the grand halls doors. They opened with a groan as his magic pushed them aside. Inside a large wooden table sat in a pillared room, flanked by chairs on each side. His father sat at the head of the table. He waved a hand to the empty chair next to him, signaling Draco to sit.
Each chair was occupied by people from his father's council. Pure blood family heads, even Blaise's father sat in a chair around the middle.
"Draco how kind of you to join us," his father ground out. Obviously not pleased with his late arrival.
Hermione winced as she finally unlocked to door to what was once her home. Bruises marking her body that she wouldn't be able to magically heal away without question. The day in town had been rough. It had taken her six hours standing in line before she could even hand over the scroll specifying the girl's garments. Then another two for them to be finished as orders placed by purebloods were pushed ahead of hers.
The entire town was bursting. Whispering about the prince and why on earth he needed a ball. Lesser purebloods were coughing up life savings just to purchase a gown for their daughters. While the rich paid top dollar to the finest dress makers. It was indeed an odd event, the last time she had heard anything Astoria of Ravenclaw was going to marry the prince. Uniting the two kingdoms. A beautiful girl who only seemed nothing but lovely in the papers. She felt almost bad for her, the rumor of the prince had earned him the nick name of "The Dragon".
The talk in the lines made Hermione daydream all the way home. Thinking of life in Ravenclaw or even Gryffindor, she had heard they weren't so prejudice against mudbloods and muggles.
The bags in her hands were snatched from her the second she walked inside. Pansy and Lavander were gushing over their dresses. Pulling the pink and purple floral abominations from their bags with high pitched squeals that could shatter a glass.
Then it happened. The way it always started.
The happy squeals stopped, and the tears started in Pansy's eyes. Hermione's heart sank in her chest.
"This color is wrong," Pansy cried as she threw the dress on the floor as she sank into it. Hermione balled her hand into fists at her side. Sealing her mouth shut.
"What?" Bellatrix cut through the air as she strode over to the dress. Ripping the fabric from her child pouting on the floor. She turned to Hermione who sucked in a shaky breath.
"I-I handed them the list," Hermione said, swallowing hard after the words left her mouth. She could see the rage evident in her stepmothers face as she threw the fabric to the floor and marched over to where she stood. Hermione cast her head down, trying to gain some sort of protection for her face as she waited.
But the pain never came. Instead she was grabbed roughly by the arm and dragged to her fathers study.
"You filthy little mudblood," Bellatrix seethed as she dragged Hermione to the steps of the basement, "Go make supper," she shouted as she shoved Hermione down the steps and slammed the door.
Draco stared down at his arm with a blank expression. The snake and skull staring back at him as if to mock him. he let a deep breath out of his mouth before looking away. Fisting the green silk sheets in frustration.
Thinking of how he watched it slither around his forearm then to the skull. his expression unwavering. It had to be. Or so his father has taught him.
"a true king doesn't have emotions. He does what is necessary to rule."
She was in the attic now. Dressed in her only nightgown that was now stained by droplets of her own blood. Tears welled in her eyes faster than she could wipe away. She wiped at her arm again. Hoping the mark would just vanish but knowing it wouldn't. she brought her blood covered palm to her mouth to stifle a sob.
She knew it would never go away. Because this was her punishment.
The word MUDBLOOD carved into her arm.