(Warning: this chapter definitely deserves its R rating—it contains rape, so do not read what follows if that subject offends you.)

MELTING THE ICE

Chapter 5: Heart of Ice

Hermione walked quickly down the corridor, balancing a tray of food on one hand and carrying a jug of iced pumpkin juice in the other. The house elves had been more than helpful when she had entered the kitchens, immediately giving her what she needed for Draco. She pitied them, but knew that now was no time to try to convince them they'd be happier free. She was a slave herself, and wouldn't be able to help them until she had earned her own freedom.

The only way she saw to do that was to willingly act how she was required to so her new masters would begin to trust her. Only by playing along would she be able to fool them in trusting her. Then, and only then, would she have gained the option of having free will. If ever.

For some reason, she was able to find her way back to Draco's room without any difficulties. Perhaps it was some spell charmed into the house. But whatever the reason, it made her life that much easier, and Hermione had gotten to the point where she was grateful for any little thing that helped.

As she made her way through the increasingly familiar hallways, she couldn't help but notice how beautifully decorated they were. It was a large, elegant house, not what she would have pictured for the Malfoys. There was no evidence anywhere that they were Dark Wizards, but she knew very well how deceiving appearances could be.

Hermione looked up to see the door to Draco's room in front of her. She paused for a minute, trying to figure out how she was going to open the door when she had no free hands. Hermione semi-balanced the tray between her hip and arm, then quickly knocked on the door before anything had the chance to fall down.

The door opened slowly. "Enter," a voice drawled lazily from within.

Hermione pushed the door open the rest of the way with her foot, walking in to find Draco lounging on his bed and flicking disinterestedly through a copy of Playwizard. He tossed it down as Hermione approached, and he looked up at her expectantly.

She silently set the food down in front of him, then sat in a chair across the room and glared. "Took you long enough, Granger," he muttered as he began to eat, "I thought I was going to starve before you got back."

"Well, if your house wasn't so goddamned big and confusing I may have been back faster!" she snapped, tired of the abuse Draco was wont to give her, "Would it have killed you to tell me how to get to the kitchens?"

He raised an eyebrow at her outburst. "Touchy this morning, aren't we Granger?"

She almost snarled at him. See how he would deal with first having his world destroyed, and then being enslaved by his enemy since first year. She had half a mind to get up and dump that pitcher of pumpkin juice on his head, but on second thought she probably realized it wasn't in her best interest to completely aggravate him so early in the morning.

"You would do well to remember your place and to watch your… distasteful language while in the presence of your superiors," Draco continued, a maddening smirk on his arrogant face.

Hermione bit her lip. She had promised herself to try to stay in control so the opportunity to escape might present itself, but she knew she was on the brink of snapping.

"That's better," Draco said, a satisfied look on his smug face. "I always knew you were a submissive one inside… most mudbloods yearn to be, I've found. Something about their impure breeding brings out that attribute.

He ignored the fierce look developing in her eyes. Why should he care what she thought, after all? He was the only one who mattered anymore.

"Or, it could just be when mudbloods come into contact with purebloods," he continued his pondering, "They know they're inferior, and they desire to show it any way they can. Just as you'll soon learn, Granger… I am superior to you in every way, and you would do well to take that to heart and act accordingly."

Hermione knew she was making a mistake, but Draco had always been able to push her buttons. The only times she had gotten in real trouble at Hogwarts had in some way involved him—during all other situations she was able to maintain self control. She realized in the back of her mind that it might benefit her to keep her mouth shut, but somehow she couldn't stop the words she heard herself speaking.

"Shut up," she snapped harshly. "Just shut up. I can't do this. I've put up with your pathetic attempts to offend me for years, but I can't do it any longer. You think I'm just going to sit here and listen quietly while you insult me every way you can? You conceited son of a bitch!"

Something inside Draco snapped. He was done having her try to prove he wasn't in charge. The mudblood bitch needed to be put in her place, and shown once and for all that he was the one in control.

He was nearly growling with anger as he stood up to face her. His features contorted, forming an expression so maliciously terrifying it forced Hermione to back away in fear. She realized too late that she had pressed herself against a wall, unintentionally trapping herself in an inescapable position.

"Get away from me!" she ordered sharply, the fear evident in her voice.

"Granger, you pitiful creature, you don't have the luxury of choice. You have no rights anymore, and no say as to what's going to happen next. You are my slave, my property, and I may do with you as I wish. Your only purpose is to serve me. If you fail in that, the penalty for your disobedience will be death," he told her. He seemed almost calm, but the look in his eyes told her otherwise.

She had only seen him like this a few times before, and what followed had never been pleasant: a loss of his control, along with various curses being shot at the one who had antagonized him. But she knew that cursing her was the last thing on his mind.

Hermione tried to turn away, but Draco caught her wrist in his hand. He drew her close to him, and before she could resist, bent down and claimed her lips in a brutal kiss that left her weak from lack of oxygen. His kiss was harsh and possessive, and he didn't draw away until he was sure she was too faint to fight back.

As she gasped for breath, Draco easily picked her up and threw her onto his bed. He paused for an instant to perform a quick charm that left them both unclothed before climbing on the bed so that he was directly over her.

She gasped at the sudden contact and attempted to get away, but her struggles were futile. Draco easily held her arms over her head with one hand as he used the other to keep her body firmly in place.

Draco forced her legs open, and positioned himself at her entrance. "No!" Hermione cried out, the word torn from her despite her not wanting to be in the position of pleading to a Malfoy. "No, don't! Stop!"

"You. Are. Mine," he growled as he forced his way into her, claiming the last of her innocence. He was brutal, pushing roughly into her without a thought for her comfort. All that mattered to him was his own pleasure, and the fact that he was in finally in complete control of her.

She tried not to cry out; she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how much he was hurting her, but the initial pain was so great she couldn't help herself. He merely smirked, paying no attention to her efforts to push him away. She finally fell limp, exhausted from her violent struggling.

What hurt her most was the blankness in his eyes. Here he was, tearing from her the only bits of innocence she had left, taking away the last thing she could claim to have, and it didn't seem to affect him in the slightest.

His stone cold eyes contained none of the anger that had seemed to spur him into the act. There was none of the disgust she thought she would have seen. There was no hatred, no rage, nothing. She couldn't even see any joy at her helplessness. At least she could have handled that. It would have meant that she mattered, even a little, if Draco had derived some sort of sick pleasure from her abuse.

But there was nothing. No emotion whatsoever. His gaze was cold and heartless, revealing the soulless interior. She meant nothing to him, not even as an object. The only reason he was doing this to her was to prove that he could, that she was his.

What pained her the most was the fact that she no longer meant anything to anyone. That knowledge stripped her of her last illusions of finding hope in this new, horrible world.

Suddenly she was beyond caring about anything, even the physical pain that accrued as Draco continued to fuck her. All that was left in her was a desire for it all to end, for there to be eternal rest. If she could just sleep forever, there would be no emotional daggers piercing her heart, slashing though her soul and sanity. With sleep, there would be no more pain. It would all be over.

The despair consumed her, wiping out all thoughts and dreams she had once had. She almost couldn't feel what was happening anymore, so deep had she sunk into blinding depression.

The look in his eyes, that gaze of utter apathy, drove her to want to end it all. Anything, including death, would be better than this. If he, her arrogant capturer, couldn't muster even a single emotion whatsoever as he desecrated her body, not one emotion to let her know that there was some sadistic purpose behind this agony, then there was no longer any reason for her to hold on to her hopes. Now she was nothing. She meant nothing; her sole purpose was for torture, to be used as a pawn in his sick, twisted game.

It was at that moment Hermione transformed from the strong, brave woman she once was into an empty, suicidal shell of a human being. She shut her eyes as Draco continued his malevolent act. She prayed that her life would soon be over, that since now she was nothing she would soon be able to act the part and cease to exist. Then she would be at peace, at rest, for eternity.

Her wish wasn't granted, however. Not even her final hope of finding peace would be fulfilled. Draco could see her attempts to escape the situation in the fantasy of her mind, and automatically assumed that she only wished to be doing this with someone else. Who was she imagining him as! He knew she was unwilling, yes, but he was Draco Malfoy, and she had better know it!

"Open your eyes," he ordered, "Don't pretend I'm someone else; do not block me out. You are mine, Granger. I'm the one with the power, and it would do you good to remember that!"

He pinched her viciously to remind her who he was as his strokes became faster and his breathing more erratic, before he finally climaxed in her in one final thrust.

"You bastard," Hermione whispered, barely able to mouth the words, "You fucking bastard."

Slowly she opened her eyes, and he all but recoiled in shock. Gone was the fire that he had taken for a given to be behind those chocolate orbs. He almost didn't recognize the expression they held, though he had seen it elsewhere numerous times before. Yes, he had seen it, but never on her. Never, until now.

The despair contained in those eyes put him at unease. He had never thought that there would be a time he'd look at Granger and not see the ever-present brightness that used to make him want to hex her. Even when he'd found her in that cage, she still looked at the world with hope in her eyes.

Those eyes… all that he could see in them now was despair. She'd given up. He'd wanted to break her, but hadn't thought it would be that easy. Apparently, he'd done more than take the last remnants of her innocence: he'd stolen her hope as well. The thought should have made him gleeful with joy, that he'd managed to rob her of that brightness he so detested.

Tears began leaking out of her eyes and she turned away from him, ashamed to let him see his final victory over her. His voice offered her no respite: "Look at me, Granger. I want you to see who did this to you, and remember it well. I am your master."

His harsh words only served to weaken her further. She gave up the unspoken battle and convulsed into sobs, her body shaking as she made a last feeble effort to suppress the deep torment and grief inside her. The tears streamed down her face, but she managed to meet his stare.

Something seemed to come over her. The sadness was still there, the despair immersed throughout her soul, but as he watched something change. Draco caught a glimpse of a spark, buried deeply in her soul. It was a single spark, flashing quickly before it was gone, extinguished beneath the overwhelming helplessness. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

The hatred he had just seen in her eyes, however brief, let him know that the old Hermione wasn't entirely gone yet. She was buried under the layers of pain he had inflicted, but the infuriating bookworm he had known had not disappeared completely.

He didn't know why, but that sight comforted him somewhat. The thought that Hermione would be broken so easily didn't appeal to him. He didn't understand why, but he knew he was glad that there was still some remnant of her old, irksome self in there. Because he wasn't ready to lose her yet.

Beta's Note: I apologize for the length of time it took Jackie to write this. XD You have no idea how much I had to poke her during school to get her to finally do this. XD So yes, if it weren't for me this chapter wouldn't have been finished for another five years. So you all better thank me::flail: Shameless plug—My penname is Vampiryyn. Read! WHEE!

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for how long it took me to get this done! It's been… wow, almost a year. :cowers in shame: I really have no excuses… this chapter took me awhile to write, and I've been very busy, but it's really thanks to my incredibly awesome beta that this finally got done. She has been poking me (every day!) for the past month, which is what I needed to just sit down and finish writing this chapter. The next chapter will hopefully be up a lot sooner than it took for this one, so thank you all for your patience and continuous support! And while you're waiting for the next chapter, go read some of Vampiryyn's stories. She mostly writes Matrix stuff, but she also does some Harry Potter, and I love all of her things. So yes. Read. And I will write.