A/N: Sorry I haven't posted for a while, first I had writer's block and then I was trying a new story, then I was reading some, just making my rounds! Pretty much everyone who posted are great writers themselves. Keep going I'll be reading them! Here's more!

Much love,

Cellie

Chapter 4:

          Hermione awoke, gasping and in a cold sweat. She kept gasping, trying to remain in control. It was so horribly vivid, the torture…running down a long dark corridor, the terrible deatheaters and their horrible masks, and worst… the echoing hollow laughter. It was so incredibly vivid, as though it was a memory, and really had happened.

But it couldn't be, she thought. I'm muggle born. It couldn't be true, could it? But she could think of no other was she would've dreamed what she had if she wasn't. She looked out the window and saw it was still dark, the sun just barely on the horizon. Hermione cursed the days during Hogwarts where she had gotten up early to study. Oh well, she thought, he wouldn't have let me sleep much later anyway. And sure enough, he was soon yelling at her through the door.

          "Wake up Granger! Its time for you to go get my breakfast. Change into your uniform too!" She changed into the clothes she saw in the ancient seat. He must've brought it in here when she had fallen asleep. She shuddered at the though of him in the room when she was unable to defend herself.

          When she finished, she studied her reflection in the widow. It all fit nice and snug, but her chest showed more than she would've liked. It rather reminded her of the low cut dresses of the French renaissance.  She flung on her cloak so it covered her chest, made an attempt to comb her fingers through her hair, and stepped out the door.

                                                              *~*

          "There you are Granger. Fetch me my breakfast, and make it snappy." He drawled from a seat by the fireplace.

          "I refuse to serve scum like you."  She spat. He swiftly stood up and roughly grabbed her arm.

          "You shall do what I say or suffer the consequences." He said in something of a violent whisper.  She pulled away from him with surprising force, falling backward onto the ground. He quickly pulled out his wand and aimed it at her.

          Hermione, she told herself, you'd be no use to Harry dead! Swallow your pride and do it!

          "Fine." she whispered. Malfoy sneered in satisfaction.  He pocketed his wand. Hermione gathered herself and went out the door to the kitchens.

Later that day…

         

          Hermione was sitting in the falling apart chair in her room, resting from her first day. She felt as though she was an old woman. Malfoy had ordered her to scrub the floor and wash his linens and iron his clothes as soon as she had gotten back with his breakfast, and then ordered her to scrub his floor again because he had dropped a crumb of toast. She had ground her teeth and bit her tongue the entire time in order to keep herself from launching herself on him and beating him unconscious. And the temptation had almost been fulfilled when he made her scrub a corner over again because of a shadow Malfoy called a 'spot'. She would never have to ask her grandmother what it was like to be old; there was no doubting that.

          She suddenly became worried. The last time she had spoken to her grandmother was at Christmas, and she was getting older and frailer. What would happen to her if death eaters came to torture her? She had a high threshold for pain but Hermione knew she wouldn't last long against the unforgivable curses, but she couldn't stand the fact of not being able to say good-bye. Her grandmother was the one who had given her her incredible energy drive and unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Her vision blurred as she tried to hold back her tears. She gave up and she silently sobbed as she thought of never being able to see her family again.

          Suddenly she heard a knock on the door and she immediately wiped away her tears and stood up.

          "Who's there?" she asked.   She tried to regain her composure.

          "The Dark Lord demands you for an audience." Came Malfoy's voice.  She swung open her door.  He gruffly grabbed her by the wrist and led her to the grand hall.

A/N: So I think that's a lot longer than the rest of the chapters. Woo-hoo, chapter 4! Finally up at last!!

~Cellie~