It was the middle of the night and I woke sweating from a bad dream. It had involved watching Neville die again. My eyes shot open and I took in the wall of windows in Malfoy's room. Slowly it dawned on me that the kidnapping had been real. I felt nauseous from the impending hang over which had blossomed into being while I'd been asleep.

I was on my side and strong, bare arms were wrapped around my waist. Malfoy's face was in my hair and I could feel his warm breath on my neck. I tried to ignore the pressure of his member against my butt cheek. If he had intended not to cuddle with me he clearly had terrible self control. He would've had the opportunity to escape my clutches at any point during the night once I'd fallen asleep. The bed was massive and spacious; he had no excuse to be holding me.

I turned my head slowly to glance back at him and he sighed, lifting his face to look down at mine with bleary eyes, "You're sweaty. Why?" He asked not moving his body off of mine. I was surprised by how light of a sleeper he was.

"Nightmares..." I whispered.

He snarled, "Not that crap again. Consider yourself lucky that you didn't wake me up with screaming." I laid my head back down and looked out the wall of windows before me. The moon sat wide in the sky, the stars hanging like bright pin points in the universe beyond. The fact that his arms were around me began to burn in the air between us, - undeniable, stimulating, and offending his attempt to act distant. It was as though we could sense that both of our minds were racing, but we were frozen from the humility of it.

I knit my eyebrows together as his lips suddenly dragged along my neck lustily, as faint as a tickle. His hair hung down into my face. "Did I 'ave a problem with dem before?" my voice came out like a peep.

"Yes. Perhaps this time you will refrain from insulting my sleep with your dramatics," he whispered against my ear. I shuddered from the feeling of his breath on my skin and pursed my lips together to prevent myself from pointing out that controlling nightmares was basically impossible.

His finger tips were beginning to squeeze my ribs where his arms ended around my frame. I could tell that he was turned on and trying to fight it, and my cheeks flushed with the confirmed flattery that he was in fact naturally attracted to me. It was indisputable in the way he was breathing and becoming tense.

I opened my mouth and then closed it several times, feeling too petrified to speak. I wanted to urge him on; my own desires rising to the surface. But I knew that he was complex, and cruel, and a murderer. He was also very resentful regarding our current situation and my lack of memories. The right thing to do was a vague concept, and I was struggling to decipher it.

His breath was hot on my jaw line as his lips hovered there. He was fighting his urges so extraordinarily, and I laid there with wide eyes and a pounding heart, waiting for him to make up his mind. Then it occurred to me that maybe he was waiting for the same.

In a terrifying and brave decision, I gradually turned my head to face him and our lips hovered on each others, wet, touching only slightly. He stared at me as my face nudged forward and pushed our lips together in an embrace. I watched as his eyes shut, and his fingers ran up to my jaw, pulling my face into his hungrily.

The kiss was short lived though as he pulled away from me exhaling in annoyance, "I told you, no kissing," he hissed bitterly. "We need to make more of an effort to avoid that."

"Why? It turns me on," I whined.

He hung his head back, clearly frustrated, "You always do this to me. You don't listen and you push me into situations that I don't want."

I was suddenly angry, waving my arm across the room, "What would you call dis? You 'ave kidnapped me. And dat statement means nothing to me because I don' remember you at all."

The words bit through the air without grace. He was fuming now, and I could see his eyes glittering over my face in the darkness.

"If I kiss you, you will fall in love. I happen to remember you, and there is no doubt in my mind that you will go there." His expression was now serious.

"I am not a child, I can 'andle kissing," I retorted. I turned my body over and ran my arms up around his neck to pull him towards me.

He laughed against my lips, "No, I'm serious. I don't trust you." He was yanking at my hands but I continued to coil around him like a viper drawing him in closer. My leg came up over his and I ground against him. His lips were sweet and fluffy and I felt his tongue move into my mouth savagely in defeat.

I climbed on top of him and pushed him back into the bed by his chest. I was distinctly reminded that I had on no underwear when I could feel him between my legs, hard and desperate as I kissed him passionately. His hand shoved impatiently between us and I felt him pull his cock out of his black boxers, lining it up against my entrance. I would only have to lower myself slightly and he would be inside of me.

"If you want it, take it," he whispered on my lips as he stared up at me with determination. Once again, he had given me the choice and my mind registered this as noteworthy, considering other people had a completely different idea about his practices.

I pushed my lips on his again as I lowered myself onto him, groaning from the pleasure. I kissed him slowly and passionately. His light moans muffled on my lips as I rode him sensually.

Until he evidently deemed it too love-like. His hand shot up to my hair and tugged my head back hard as his hips jutted up assertively. The tone of the interaction changed to savage again as he took over control once more.

"Fuck, I've missed your body," he said in a breathy voice. I felt his hand slap my ass hard and his other hand continued to rip my hair backwards. I was still wearing the hoodie but it didn't seem to upset him. I moaned loudly from how far he was pushing into me and with very little elegance. If this was what our sex had been like before than it was starting to make sense why I'd let things go on and get out of control.

I was cumming when he pulled my head back down to his, shoving our foreheads together, "You want to kiss me, hmm?" His lips were crushing mine then and his hot breath was on my face. The kiss was painful and bruising, his pounding rapid and violent. I felt him burst inside of me as he continued to harshly kiss me, my lips now buzzing painfully. His movements slowed gradually and I felt his lips pull away from mine. "Good girl," he mocked me as I rotated off of him and I balled up my first and hit him square in the chest.

"I 'ave needs too, et es not for your pleasure et es for my own." I felt silly saying the words, knowing I was clearly the weak one between us. I was actively allowing him to burst in me, raw, and I would be pregnant in no time if I wasn't careful.

He snorted at my glare looking perfectly gorgeous in the moonlight, "Not even making me work for it. Excellent." He winked at me and shook out his hair, "Come here then, seems like the cuddling is to my advantage." I had a feeling the invitation wasn't even real, just meant to be facetious.

"You're sick," I quipped, turning my back to him. He laughed at me gently in the darkness before I felt him turn his back to me as well.

The next day I awoke alone in Malfoy's bed. My lips were swollen slightly and there was pain between my legs. I was immediately flooded with guilt and dread at what I had allowed to occur the night before. He had murdered another person right in front of me, and then I'd gone and let him have sex with me. Twice.

I was taken aback when I noticed that there was a brand new armoire in the corner. It was dignified and exquisite, a dusty blue color with gold ornamentation around the edges in little swirls. How he'd managed to get it into the room without waking me was a complete mystery, although I had probably been passed out cold after having had such a long day prior.

The armoire stuck out in the raven colored room like a sore thumb. The thoughtfulness of choosing my favorite color struck me as an oddity. I went over to it feeling silly that I had no underwear on, glancing around the room for paintings that might be prying.

The armoire was filled with a range of clothing, but mainly black dresses that I would never have chosen for myself. Nevertheless I took the hint and plucked out a black bouffont dress that was shaped like an umbrella. It reminded me of something I had once worn to a funeral, but it was at least still stylish.

I was starving and my body reminded me of it with loud growls, but my priorities were to attain a new wand and find a means to escape. I went to the window and checked for any panes that would open for me to slip through. Nothing was willing to budge, and the same condition was in the bathroom. The fireplace had no floo powder next to it either. I stomped my foot in aggravation, realizing that the Malfoy boy was smarter than I gave him credit for.

I paused my search around the room to watch a floating miniature planet at the desk rotate slowly in place, before deciding to leave the room. I opened the doorway to his bedroom with great trepidation. The house was echoing with dull creaks and the sound of wind gusting. It was raining again outside and the manor was very cold.

I shivered as I plucked up the courage to leave the safety of Draco's room, refusing to name it my own as he had suggested. The hallways were empty stone tunnels. I made my way down the flights of stairs wearily. My mind drifted back to the conversation I'd had with Neville the day before, right before he'd died at the hands of Malfoy.

"He's somewhere in London right now, trying to track Lucius Malfoy down. That's Malfoy's father, probably quite a bit worse than Draco even. I haven't seen much of him, but I've heard he's real evil."

Lucius Malfoy was in London, and I sighed a breath of relief with the expectation that I had some time yet to avoid meeting him. He obviously had a problem with me so vulgar that he would force his own son to impregnate me unnaturally by threatening to take the opportunity to punish me as an alternative.

The house was massive and I pondered how many Malfoy's there were that I might encounter while wandering about. I had reached the second floor when I was given a clue on the topic.

A large family tree was blooming on the wall, spanning at least fifteen feet high. My eyes trailed around the many names, catching on their wavering images and nasty expressions. They all had white blond hair, save for a few of the women. Genetically it was absurd. The blond gene was a well-known recessive trait, how they had managed to consistently produce heirs with the same platinum locks was beyond me.

I reached the far corner of the tree and recognized the name Lucius next to a pretty woman named Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy sat looking exacting and regal, his hair was long past his shoulders. He appeared freakishly similar to Draco in many ways. Below them Draco's picture shimmered with a wicked grin, and next to him, me. Madelyn Malfoy was written below my sullen face in swirling text, and I reached out tiny fingers to drag them across her sad, broken-hearted appearance in empathy.

"I thought I would find you here," I heard Malfoy's voice drifting down the hallway. He approached me in another dark suit, his hands jammed into the tight pockets as his eyes ran over my dress with approval. "You always come here. Funny. It seems to depress you, seeing your name up there."

I leaned against the stone banister feeling fatigued by his presence already, "Don' be idiotic. You know why I don' like it."

He shrugged, frowning slightly at the wall, "At first when I thought you had died, I came here every day to watch her face. See if it changed. She just looked...blank all of sudden, but there were some days where she cried quite profanely, and I wondered if you were still out there somehow." I watched as he twitched his nose slightly and then the hard mask returned to his face.

"So, how is your grand escape plan going?" he changed the topic, his icy blue eyes fell across my face knowingly and a smirk danced on his lips.

I crossed my arms. "I thought I would begin after breakfast," I answered him sarcastically.

He snorted. "You can come and go as you please, as long as you are back here every night," he said in a milky voice as though reading a grocery list instead of discussing my freedom. "If you aren't, I'll hunt you down myself, and there are worse things that I could do to you than send you down to the dungeons." His eyes glinted with the mysterious threat.

I stared at him, my mouth had dropped open in shock that he was that confident in his abilities to hunt me. I was actually allowed to leave the property, which would present an excellent opportunity to devise a strategy to deal with him.

He grinned at me, "Let's get the rules straight. Dress appropriately, as you have done today. You will be back before nine every single night. If you do happen to go outside don't miss this deadline. And don't try to fucking run away. I am a busy person and I would prefer to not waste my existence chasing you down. You and I will do our best to keep a regular routine at night. The quicker you are pregnant, the less livid my father will be with either of us...or so I am told."

He stepped forward and ran his fingers through my hair, tucking some of it behind my ear. He spoke in a softer voice now, "And, if you're really obedient, I might even cuddle you at night...as you are so fond of." His face was cruel and teasing, and I ripped out of his grip in a huff. He rubbed at his eyes with his palms, visibly laughing at me.

"I hate you," I muttered, nothing better to say to the ridiculous set of rules. Did he just see me as some house wife that was allowed to go out for walks and collect flowers, talk to the townsfolk about insipid topics, get pregnant? I was far more powerful than that and I would be using my time well. Perhaps he didn't care where I went given that the mark would always give my coordinates away. It was that, or I would be forced to silence my magic in order to hide from him, but even then he would eventually find me and it would be shocking if he didn't just murder me right then and there.

He followed me down the large double sided staircase as I ran towards the first floor, holding my long dress up with both hands. "Never heard that one before," he quipped sarcastically.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs to swivel and face him, and poked at his chest. My long blond waves swirled around my face with the blunt motion, "Why are you following me, den? I thought I was allowed my freedom."

He laughed at me again, clearly fighting to keep a straight face at my show of bravery, "So be it. Just don't get lost." A tremendous blast of black smoke engulfed me suddenly as he disappeared, and my energy suddenly felt completely drained. I had been too close and inhaled toxic Death Eater fumes that left me choking. The overwhelming sadness and rage that it left me with for minutes had me clutching at the staircase banister and then slowly wandering the bottom floor in a daze.

When my focus had cleared again I set out to continue looking for wands or floo powder. I wasn't inherently strong enough to dissapparate without a wand, so being aloud to leave whenever I pleased was pedestrian at best. Every time I passed a window I took in the extremely rural landscape with dread. The property was gargantuan - for what seemed like an endless horizon there was rolling hills, forests, open meadows... It occurred to me that I could just start walking and see how far I could get before having to turn back. And even then, I wasn't particularly guaranteed to find any other establishments in a walkable vicinity.

I had wandered through countless colossal rooms hours later with still no resolve. The Malfoy's evidently knew me quite well and had anticipated that I would wander relentlessly looking for methods to flee the property. Some doors were locked while others provided dull permission; I found three study rooms, multiple dining areas including one very dark and mammoth formal banquet space, living rooms, parlors, offices, a forgotten ballroom, and what seemed to be endless spare bedrooms. Each room was designed with an eccentric and ornate style, and many were seemingly forgotten altogether from the horrific levels of dust and rot within.

All this aside, the oddest part of my day was that no one else appeared to be inside the building with me. I hadn't even spotted one of the house elves when I finally got bored of the wandering and went to the front doors.

Out on the porch I was immediately soaked by the torrential downpour. I didn't care; it wasn't as though Malfoy had left with me an umbrella or a wand. It was icy and chilling out on the grounds but I pushed forward through orchards, gardens, hedges, ponds... My entire body was trembling when I had reached back around to the twisted black gates. I stood looking desperately up at the metal that overshadowed my petite form. I tugged at the latches but it was tied up and locked, physically and magically, for obvious reasons. I kicked it furiously, feeling pathetic. The metal rung out a deep reverberating tone in the rain.

I was halfway up climbing over one of the sharply trimmed hedges immediately adjacent to the gates when a sweet voice interrupted me, "Ah, Madelyn. Dare I ask what it is you're doing to my hedges?"

With my hands still deep in the greenery I twisted my drenched head around to see that a woman in a black dress stood behind me within the property, clasping an umbrella with a gloved hand. She had long blond hair that coiled gracefully on one side of her frame. She was elegant, standing tall with a straight spine. Compared to her, I resembled an 18th century homeless woman. My legs and arms were covered in scratches and debris from climbing up the hedges and my clothing hung heavily on my body, soaked completely.

I chewed on the edge of my lip hoping that no punishment would be dealt for acting like a fool. Her bright blue eyes gave her away as Malfoy's mother; she was far too old to be a sibling of any kind. Slowly I lowered myself and jumped off, slipping slightly on the gravel obnoxiously.

Her eyes wandered down my savage composure and messy appearance judgmentally, reminding me of her son, "So, here you are. Alive. What a miracle, surely."

I crossed my arms defensively across my body, trying to control the growing convulsions of my dropping body temperature. She stepped towards me with a refined motion until I was partially underneath the umbrella with her. She had an amused expression as she took in my scars and fearful disposition, "We don't leave the property unsecured, I'm sure you understand."

"Malfoy said-said I could leave," I whispered, my teeth clattering against each other, mimicking the sound of rolling dice.

Her hand reached out and closed around my wrist, slowly guiding me back towards the manor, "You may call him Draco. And he was right, you certainly can. Not that it is suggested; there's nothing for many miles." Her pace was quick and confident, dragging me slightly.

Back inside of the lobby I stared at the ground, feeling hateful again. She walked to a nearby table and closed the umbrella, leaving it leaning against the legs. I was dizzy and tired from still being on the mend, now soaked as well and very hungry. I had nothing to lose so I took my shot, "Can I 'ave a wand?" It came out as a squeak and I knew she would register it as begging.

She smiled faintly, "We do not strive to weaken our family members, Madeleine. It is not representative of the Malfoy name for you to be seen ostensibly wandless. You will get your wand back, when you've earned our trust." She nodded and disappeared upstairs, her shoes clicking rhythmically against the hard stone.

I resigned to returning to Draco's room without hesitation. I would take a bath to rid the chill and perhaps sleep some more, maybe look for an incriminating diary to use as leverage against him. I was pleasantly surprised when I opened the door to see a heaping plate of fresh food on the desk, and a single note next to it written in silver;

Regards, Narcissa.