Hi everyone, sorry it's been a while, I will try and update sooner, I promise.
Thanks for all your reviews, please keep them coming!
Yes I am a silly gal for giving away the ending…but…if I'm feeling up to it, I will post two endings, one happy one sad! So everyone is happy, k?
Bekky-I know the change is fast, but things are happening fast, k? I'm trying to make the change as gradual as I can, without dragging it out tons, because I never intended for this fic to be long. I'm doing the best I can here; besides, Draco was not written by J.K Rowling to be nice to Hermione, was he? (Sorry to break it to ya, but Hermione/Draco in the REAL books is never gonna happen.)
On with the fic….
Chapter 6.
"He's torturing Daisy!"
Malfoy raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Nice to see you too, Granger."
Hermione huffed and set his tray of food on the table Draco was occupying. She made the tea, put the plate of breakfast in front of him and huffed again.
"Now may I talk?" She asked sarcastically.
"It was so nice and quiet before you came in, I'd prefer it if you didn't." Malfoy said, his trademark grin on his face.
"Draco Malfoy shut the fuck up; I'm trying to tell you something
important!" Hermione yelled, stamping
her foot on the carpeted floor.
"I love it when you talk dirty to me." Was Draco's cheeky reply. Hermione lunged forward, looking as if she was going to kill Draco. Draco caught onto this and held her back, raising an eyebrow at her, making Hermione breath catch in her throat, that simple gesture made him look extremely sexy. "Ok, talk." He said simply, and released her.
Hermione nodded, gathering her breath. "That bastard is torturing Daisy."
"Daisy?"
"She's another slave." Hermione explained, shaking her head. "The point is, she's only twelve and she's Voldemort's new slave! And he's beating her!" Malfoy's face fell, and Hermione sighed, sitting down on the chair opposite Draco.
"That's terrible." Draco said sincerely, and Hermione nodded.
"I know, but what are we going to do about it?"
Malfoy arched a brow at Hermione in surprise. "'We'? There is no 'we'. 'We' are not doing anything; you can go ahead and get killed. 'We' are not doing anything."
"But-"
"When did you think that there was a 'we', Granger?" Malfoy asked.
Hermione was completely confused and hurt. Why is Malfoy doing this? "Last week-"
"Look, we can't do anything. That bastard is in control of everything, if we try something, then it'll get us killed. Stop worrying, she'll get through it. You did." Malfoy got a distant look on his face and he stared into the fire, something he seemed to be doing a lot lately.
"She's so young; she needs to be looked after." Hermione said quietly, her hands fiddling with the tablecloth.
"Who looks after you?"
Hermione blinked, the question was so out of the blue. She thought about it, and the answer was-no one. No one looks after me, I look after everyone else. Then something else popped into her mind, and she remembered that conversation she had with him a week ago, when he had asked to call him Draco.
"Last week, I asked why you cared, why you wanted to look after me." Malfoy nodded, his gaze fixed on the blazing fire. "Why?"
Malfoy smiled, not a grin like he had done before, a small one, as if he was thinking about a well protected secret. "You need looking after Granger."
Hermione snorted, and she crossed her arms defiantly. "I do not." She protested, but she ended up sounded like an insolent child.
Malfoy smirked. "Yes you do. I've seen you, all these years working for Voldemort. You're so busy looking after others; you forget to look after yourself. Look at you, you're skin and bones! I bet you give some of your food to the other slaves, and you don't even realise that you, yourself, haven't got enough to eat."
"Even if I kept all the food I get for me, it still wouldn't be enough." She informed Draco. "Some one has to look after the slaves. I'm one of the oldest; some one has to take a mother figure."
"What happens if you die then?" Draco demanded, his gaze now resting on Hermione, his eyes blazing like the fire. "Who's going to look after the slaves then?"
Hermione was silent, she had never thought about that. And Draco was right, she hated to admit it, but he was. She was much thinner than the other girls because she gave most of her food away to the younger girls. She did more work than the others because she persuaded them to give her their chores, so the other slaves had less to do and the chance of them being beaten was less. Over the years, she had accumulated the nick name 'mum' because the moment they had become slaves for Voldemort, she had mothered everyone, made sure they ate right, took care of their wounds and soothed them when they were scared. Who makes sure I eat right? Who soothes me when I'm scared? No one.
"Who looks after you then?" Hermione challenged. Draco's head fell and Hermione felt bad for asking. "I'm sorry."
Draco shook his head, some strands of blond hair falling from its place. "It's alright Granger."
There was a short pause, and then:
"Why do you call me Granger?" Draco looked up then, his silver eyes locking with hers.
"You never asked me to call you any different."
"But, when you asked me to call you Draco, I assumed-"
"Never assume, Granger."
Hermione paused; her eyes still locked with Draco's neither of them wanting to look away. "Call me Hermione."
Draco smiled and Hermione returned it. She looks so beautiful when she smiles. Draco thought. No Draco! Bad thought, bad thought.
"I'll look after you Hermione."
Not much happening there, but things should move along more quickly now, I'll be introducing more characters (old ones [Padfoot, prongs :)]), and stuff not of the good will be happening to Daisy…
Please review!