I laid on the carpet for so long that I fell asleep there. I was completely defeated, and the sleep provided some escape from the horrible world I had woken up to once again.

When my eyes fluttered open it was due to being nudged by a grisly house elf. The small figure was bruised badly in various regions of his body and his fingers were heavily bandaged. He was poking a sharp toe nail into my side looking absolutely unimpressed, "Master has made it clear Mrs. Malfoy is to bathe now."

I rolled my stiff eyes and pushed up onto my knees, "I am not Mrs. Malfoy."

The house elf narrowed it's eyes further, "Kreacher remembers Mrs. Malfoy. Such a difficult wife for the master, always causing trouble."

He snapped his fingers and a large bottle of fire whiskey appeared in his hand, "The master has requested Kreacher presents the missus with this."

I wearily took it from him. It was a very high quality brand, and based on this and the pedigree of everything else around Malfoy I gathered that money was no obstacle for him. At the very least if I had to participate in intimacy with a vicious Death Eater he'd had the decency to consider my comfort.

The grouchy elf left the room with a pop and I uncorked the bottle to sniff at the foul liquor. I inhaled sharply, aware that it wouldn't take much at all for me to get hammered. I was weak, and I hadn't eaten much in the past two days. I had to drink only enough for a moderate buzz so that my mind was still cognizant when he returned. I chugged a large gulp and fought the urge to hurl the bitter liquid back up. I swallowed slowly, doing my best to take in as much as possible before wobbling to my feet.

I would have to shower or else risk being painfully reprimanded. I floated around the room, wincing from the still serious pain in my bones.

Malfoy had said for old time's sake. Had I become some form of a raging alcoholic?

I located the bathroom by it being the only other doorway in the vast room. There was an enormous claw foot tub in the center of the dark green room. I drew a bath and started undressing with a creeping feeling shooting down my spine. The room was filled with his personal possessions and I felt uncomfortable with his confident vulnerability.

I was lowering my naked body into the bubbles, trying to avoid looking at the white scars that dotted my limbs, when I finally began to feel my nerves building despite the few shots I'd had. Very shortly the extremely handsome boy would be back and whether or not my body would be a disappointment to him began to loom in my mind. I pulled bubbles up around my chest so that I wouldn't scour myself with judgmental thoughts as I imagined his naked body in return. He seemed to be completely flawless and my heart was now pounding against my chest at the thought of him touching me, seeing me. Another part of me acknowledged a hidden desire buried within that anticipation.

The bath was not very long as a result. I was completely restless by the time I stepped out, finally clean. My bones no longer ached, and I chugged another small shot of the liquor hoping to keep the high climbing. It was then that I noticed my reflection for the first time since the accident.

The large mirror reflected back at me a gorgeous girl, and my heart rested more easily knowing that the Order members had clearly focused a lot on mending my face. I looked almost identical to how I recalled being before, only slightly older and with a thin scar running along my jawline. My blond hair was long and wavy. My golden eyes stared back at me, and I gasped at how much weight I had lost - my chin now pointed and my features jutting. I wrapped a towel around myself and left the bathroom.

When I had passed through the doorway I noticed that I was no longer alone in his bedroom. He stood by the windows in a sharp black suit, swirling around a dark liquid in a crystal glass. The entire wall was one massive sheet of glass, held together by a matrix of wooden panes. The moon light was streaming in from outside, illuminating his features.

I adjusted the towel to cover myself more appropriately as his eyes slid down my legs, "I see Potter has done a despicable job of patching you up. I'll have a professional come next week to make improvements." He sipped at what I assumed to be whiskey, never breaking eye contact with me.

He looked perfect, standing there in his form fitting suit. His hand was in his pocket, perhaps over his wand in case I gave him trouble. My heart began fluttering from the intoxication of the liquid I'd consumed earlier. I couldn't explain the aching lust that was beginning to soar in his company and I averted my eyes, taking small steps backwards.

He misjudged my embarrassed stumbling as an attempt to run and hide. I felt the whoosh of the bathroom door shut behind me as he wandlessly commanded it, "You won't be going back in there to hide, Madeleine. My father won't hesitate to torture you if he deems you unworthy of your place in this family. We have to do this, do you understand me?" He looked remorseful for just a moment before his eyes wandered away. It was painfully awkward as I attempted to read his expression.

I swallowed hard, unsure of what he wanted me to say. I had to keep reminding myself that he was a dangerous stranger while I gently swayed on the spot. "We could at least wait until after our first date," I joked without sincerity, hiccupping into my elbow. My hand shot out to steady myself on the bed post as he stepped towards me.

"I've been down that road with you," He said sounding exhausted, placing the glass on a desk. "It's a miracle I survived with my wits in tact after I thought you'd died. Forgive me if we have to skip the pleasantries of courting this time; I simply can't afford the pain."

Was he suggesting that we had dated in any way before that could be considered civil? He was crossing the room now, eyes focusing on me seriously. I fell backwards a few paces, tripping onto the bed moronically as my heart rate was suddenly deafening in my ears.

I shook as he approached me, looming tall over the bed. He smirked at my obvious nervousness, "Relax. Of all the things Potter has poisoned your mind with, I'm not going to rape you. I'd take zero pleasure in forcing you."

He sat next to me on the comforter, loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, lightly brushing his straight platinum hair. Then he had his jacket off. It was beyond aggravating that I couldn't stop musing about his beauty. I sat next to him drinking in his features intensely.

He noticed my attention and stared down at me with hooded light blue eyes, looking mildly drunk himself. "I said relax. I'll let you take the lead. I'm not exactly comfortable with this either. We only have to do this until you're pregnant, and then my father will have no choice but to leave you alone." He paused for a second as if considering something and I could tell by his face that he wasn't in the mood either.

"I need to know that you understand. It's for your safety. I'm not some.." he trailed off bouncing his elbows on his knees. I heard him curse fucking Potter under his breath while he pushed his hair back. I wasn't sure if I should bother clarifying to him that Harry Potter hadn't said one thing to me in person.

I stammered, unsure of why he kept pointing out that his father would harm me unless we produced a child and so immediately, "What does 'e want? Why so quickly?"

Draco snapped his head to me, "He wants you kept in line. Your absence for an entire year has not gone unnoticed. You either provide an heir in a timely manner or he'll make sure you're put to other uses." The sentence came out as a low growl and I leaned away from him, not wanting to know what the implication of other uses was.

"Fine, I'm fine to do dis wit' you," was all I could muster, trying to find the courage to speak. It really wouldn't be so bad to hook up with such a handsome boy, even if he was a huge prick. His vision seared into mine as though he still wasn't sure I understood the gravity of the situation.

I watched as he suddenly crossed the room. His dress shirt was untucked now and his hair messy. He pulled out a shiny vial from his desk drawer. He shot it back and inhaled sharply, his eyes watering as he put it down on the mahogany wood of the desk. Wincing he returned to me and I noticed that his blue eyes were disappearing behind dilating pupils.

"I want to face away from you," I whispered shyly, my fingers tangling in the towel over my body. I had thought about it while in the bath, coming to the conclusion that not facing him wouldn't be as personal.

He looked momentarily amused, "What an interesting request. I was hoping you wouldn't turn away though. Alternatively, I wish to see your expressions." He gazed down at me again, brushing my chin with his fingers. I was breathing fast and my lips were parted, the heat between my legs betraying my better senses. "It will make me feel better if you'll consider it," he stated.

I watched as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, wondering why he needed to undress fully or have me face him traditionally if this was simply for the sake of producing an heir. Although he had been rough with the way he'd handled me there was notable sensitivity within him. I was beginning to calm down when the rudeness returned in full force.

"Entertain me, Madeleine. You really don't remember how much you used to throw yourself at me savagely?" He queried as if it was a casual conversation at a coffee shop. His shirt was off now, and my eyes ran over his hard, fit body. He laughed at my keen stare, "Then you spent months livid with me for the bequeathment mark that you practically begged for."

I was having trouble even listening to what he was suggesting while he unbuckled his belt and I fought myself not to reach out and touch him. My mind waved back and forth at the words that he had just said, "Sounds like something I would do. But...you obviously were not very forthcoming about de outcome, were you?" My words were breathy and seductive, matching my heart rate. He was probably a practiced liar. yet, some part of me was hopeful that it truly had been my own stupid choice to chase after him in the first place.

He frowned a smile, now looking flush and flirty, "Perhaps not. Perhaps that was a good strategy. I wanted you and I always get what I want." He was in his black boxers now, pushing me onto the bed by carefully gripping my neck.

I shut my eyes as I felt his other hand running up the inside of my thigh, dangerously close to my wet, throbbing opening, "You just drugged yourself, didn't you?" I asked feebly, trying to maintain the last shred of my dignity. He released his hold on my throat when I was flat on my back. I clung to the towel, already knowing that I would cave to him. He smelled like smoke and pine and his skin was warm and silky against mine as he laid beside me.

"Don't take it personally," he answered in irritation. I knit my eyebrows together, too embarrassed to look at him or admit that our physical chemistry was clearly natural for me. His hand had stopped moving upwards and I laid there, waiting for some kind of invasive procedure to begin. When he did nothing else my eyes opened again in confusion.

He was leaning over me, our faces very close. His hair was hanging down onto my forehead and he was searching my eyes. There was another flicker of burning desire buried deep within his blue orbs and I sent him a puzzled look. Our breaths mingled as he waited patiently, lightly squeezing my thigh in his fingers. He inhaled sharply, arguably uncomfortable with the forced situation, "Can I touch you?"

I looked into his wicked eyes and my hand drifted down to his, pulling his up between my legs. He bit his lip, relief flooding over him unmasked. His fingers slowly began pumping inside of me as he rubbed at my clit with confidence and intricacy. I moaned loudly in appreciation, desperate for more. A landslide had been unleashed. My hands shot to his boxers, ripping them down with haste. The black towel around my body unraveled with the motion.

He froze as he took in my naked body before him, his mouth parted slightly. I instinctively leaned towards his face to kiss him so that he would stop staring, pulling him by his neck. His lips were soft and warm, his tongue tasted like smoke. The tension between us thickened as I reached down to stroke him with my free hand. He let the embrace linger for a minute as he grew rock hard in my fingers, moaning against my lips. Then he dropped away with a snarl, "We shouldn't kiss. It's too much."

My face felt white hot immediately from the rejection. He didn't seem phased by my noticeable disappointment, just rolled on top of me and slipped a hand behind my back, arching me towards him. "Are you ready?" He asked, searching my face with ragged breathing. I could feel his hardness pressing against my inner leg and could see the desperate lust in his wandering eyes. I nodded felt him push into me, slowly for only a second, and then with aggression. The friction was painful at first as he pounded me hard and mercilessly. He never broke eye contact, watching my expressions evolve through a symphony of reactions. I was crying out loudly and he claimed me silently, biting his lip again.

He leaned forward and sucked at my neck. It was some of the roughest sex I'd ever had but it was good, so good. He was impressively sized and my body was stretching to accommodate his penetration. His face moved back up to mine and for a second his lips grazed mine by accident. He kissed me and I felt his pace falter and slow to a sensual grind, felt his energy soften as our tongues danced erotically. Then he whispered swear words and started pulling away, pulling out of me. I thought vaguely that he would dress and leave the room, but instead he grabbed me by my wrist and wrenched me over onto my stomach, my face buried sideways in the pillow.

His fingers pushed down on the base of my spine as he whispered in my ear, "Looks like you get it your way then." He took a moment to spread my legs wider with his knee and then I felt him shoving into me again. He was gasping now and cursing more consistently. I could feel the buzzing in my abdomen growing dangerously as he dug deeper at a new angle. He whispered my name in awe, just barely loud enough to hear and before I knew it I was tightening around him, cumming without any control. He released with me, filling me up and panting beside my ear.

I laid in the bed, not quite sure how to feel about what had just happened. It had been an awful day. I had woken up sleeping on the floor of an abandoned cottage, witnessed a murder, gotten kidnapped again, and then decided to sleep with my Death Eater captor willingly.

He was off of the bed blowing out candles, back around the room in his boxers. My eyes slid to his figure; he was unbelievably fit. He stood in front of the wall of windows, shaking out his long blond hair. I had no clothing of my own so I pawed at his dress shirt, pulling it against my body sheepishly as I sat up.

"I don' 'ave a wand, so I can't clean up de-" I was abruptly cut off by him.

"I've told you. There will be no scourgifying anything. You are to produce an heir now that you have been confirmed as alive. My family will accept nothing less." He turned to face me and scowled when he noticed that I was clinging to his shirt. He went over to the wardrobe and grabbed a large black hoodie, tossing it to me, "I will set you up with clothing going forward. Wear this for tonight."

I pulled the sweater over my head and noted that it smelled like him and hung low past my thighs like a bizarre dress. It was an odd scene. Two days ago I woke up to find out I had a Death Eater husband, and now I was sitting there on his bed wearing his hoodie like a girlfriend. He rolled his eyes sensing what I was thinking.

"Where is my room?" I asked nervously as I stood, wobbling, trying to ignore the feeling of his fluids running down my legs.

He snorted in the moonlight, making his way back to the bed, "This is your room. You will sleep with me every night like a proper wife, unless you anger me in which case I will send you to the dungeons to sleep with the skeletons." He pushed me onto the bed with one hand as he passed me going to the other side, laughing lightly at the ease of the motion.

I laid on the top of the covers as he got underneath them. He sighed when he realized that I wasn't underneath and turned over to face me. I saw his eyes flicker in the darkness, "Get under. Don't be dramatic."

I stuck my nose in the air to be difficult, "Non." Tears were brimming again in my eyes as I thought about how pathetically I'd let him claim my body. I was clearly already repeating history and digging myself into a second grave. He was a murderer and a criminal.

His hand slammed down on the pillow next to my face, "Get under the covers, now. You'll freeze." My eyes wandered to his in the darkness. His pointy nose was flaring and he looked cancerous. He wasn't wrong - the Manor was almost subzero. It was an uninviting temperature for a home to say in the least.

I reluctantly dug myself into the obsidian covers and used the sleeve of the hoodie to wipe at my eyes. My crying was picking up volume and speed and he glared at me with an empty expression, "Will you shut up? Such an unbecoming sound for a young woman."

I firmly closed my eyes, "Will you 'old me so I can go to sleep?" Any affection, even if false, would lull me to sleep at least.

"Absolutely not," he spat.

I clamped my hand down on my mouth to try and muffle the hysterical crying with no avail. He growled and rubbed at his face and I braced for him to hit me. I was surprised when after about another five minutes his arm started to dig underneath my neck. He tugged me into his chest begrudgingly, his arm draped around my neck and shoulders. His body was stiff and displeased by the contact, his face pointed away from mine as I nuzzled into his bare neck and wrapped my arm around his tight abs. My tears gradually faded away and I could hear his impatient breaths coming out sharp.

"Don't let this confuse you," he hoarsely whispered in the darkness, "I won't feel sorry for you if you catch feelings for me. It can't be like it was before."

I could feel my eyelashes batting against his throat as I blinked, considering his desperate need to clarify the information to me. As anyone would expect, I didn't think he would care about me simply because I'd forced him to cuddle. He'd already made it abundantly clear that I had only one purpose, and that was to service him with an heir.

"Tell me about us...before," I asked in a dainty voice, breathing on his neck. "Why can't it be like dat?"

He coughed to clear his throat, "No. It's not necessary."

I pressed my nose into his skin, sighing from the peaceful physical contact. The bed was warm and his body was unbelievable. I ran my fingers over his chest and abs, greedily memorizing his physique. He ignored the groping but softened a little, and I could feel his fingers trailing along my shoulder instinctively.

"Did we love each other? Did I hurt you?" I asked without thinking.

"No. Go to bed," he replied bluntly. His fingers on my shoulder stopped moving and he flattened his hand against my skin again.

"You're a murderer. I suppose I wouldn't 'ave loved someone like you," I rudely mused aloud, feeling delirious from the day and the whiskey. I thought about Neville's blank eyes as he stared up from where he'd dropped to death before me, face half covered in mud. I quickly banished the imagery hoping to prevent myself from crying again.

He exhaled sharply, clearly a nerve had been hit, "Not back then, I wasn't. Things have changed. I doubt you could even begin to understand what I have to do for this family."

"Why 'ave dey changed?" I asked pointlessly. They had changed, that's all that mattered. Whatever he'd done now was irreversible, and I couldn't even remember our previous relationship.

"Madeleine, if you don't be quiet I'll put you in the dungeons. Then you'll understand just how much they've changed," he warned, sounding exhausted. His breath blew my hair across my face as he spoke, "You clearly haven't changed. All you do is push me to the brink of fury with foolish questions."

I gave in and buried my face against him, allowing myself to slip away into a much needed deep sleep. As alarming as the situation was, it was quite nice to be in clean clothing and in a real bed.