Slumped in the seat of the carriage, traveling to the Malfoy's, too hopeless to move, Hermione's throat still burned from all her screaming the previous eve.

She didn't take Lucius's news too well.

After her bath she innocently loitered in the bathroom. She scrubbed the black dirt out from beneath her nails, trimmed her poor ends, and thoroughly brushed her teeth.

Oh, did it feel good to brush her teeth! She scrubbed them till they squeaked. Exposing them into the mirror, she finally saw the familiar smile of a dentist's daughter, straight and white. She had always had a beautiful mouth, but just like with everyone, some things you have to grow in to. They hadn't felt so slick in so long Hermione couldn't stop sliding her tongue across them.

Although she had a wonderfully minty aftertaste, she didn't at all mind spoiling her clean mouth when she finally exited the bathroom to find a chocolate cake fresh out of the room's tiny little oven.

Still overexcited for food, she immediately began wolfing it down the second the little house elf finished covering it with thick chocolate frosting. It was so moist and sweet; Hermione couldn't believe she had almost forgotten her love for chocolate.

She was licking her messy fingers when she realized that she was being quite stupid.

There she was, in an unknown motel room with Lucius Malfoy and a little strange elf eating chocolate cake.

Terribly distracted by much missed luxuries, Hermione cursed herself for not assessing the situation sooner. Something horrible was coming. She could feel it.

If Lucius Malfoy thought chocolate cake would coerce Hermione into not being as upset, he was very mistaken.

She kicked and screamed for twenty straight minutes the second Lucius's words entered her ears.

Marry Draco Malfoy? Voldemort's idea? NEVER! Of all the sick, twisted, evil schemes… she could never imagine such a disgusting thing. And what was the point?

After a bout of destroying the room full circle, she demanded to know why… in a way that was high in octave as well as decibel.

"Voldemort has his reasons," was all Lucius gave in his cold, stern response. He was more than agitated that Hermione had turned over the kitchen table, and thrown the chair so that the legs actually stuck into the drywall.

That was it? That was his answer? She had to marry Draco Malfoy because Voldemort said so? No. Never. There had to be a reason. Surely he-who-must-not-be-named had some sick evil inspiration, and she wanted to know what his plan was!

But it didn't matter what his plan was. Because his plan was NOT going to be carried out!

Hermione was determined to get out of there. Thus began the mad dash of kicking and clawing, along with its fair share of shrieking and hollering, in a desperate attempt to escape.

But, being wandless, she didn't even make within three feet of the door.

Lucius restrained her by the wrists and shoved her to the ground. Hermione had been petrified before, and she absolutely despised it. Which was why she was enraged when Lucius did it to her just then. Petrifaction was such a horrible state to be in, so desperately wanting to speak and move but being physically unable to was so infuriating a person could go mad.

"You WILL marry him, and you WILL enjoy it, or you will act so much like you enjoy it that no one else will be able to tell the difference!" roared Lucius to a stiff, immobile Hermione on the floor.

Why should I!? Hermione wanted to scream, but couldn't.

"Because if you don't," Lucius went on, unknowingly addressing her silent query, "I will make the rest of your so called pathetic life a living hell," he swore.

Although his statement did alarm her, she wished she could've moved her face and matched his expression of sternness, not wanting him to know she was afraid, wishing he knew he didn't intimidate her.

If Lucius wanted to say anything else to her, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Lucius looked down at her and smiled cruelly.

Hermione heard Lucius open the door and greet the person on the other side.

"About time!" said Lucius, "She tore apart the room, I had to petrify her."

"Sorry, got held up at Borgin and Burke, but I got the incantation for the charm," said a new male voice.

Borgin and Burke? thought Hermione, That's a shop in Knockturn Alley! That's where I must be… of course, where else could Lucius hide me? but who is at the door?

"Excellent," said Lucius, "come in then."

Hermione eavesdropped as the two continued to casually converse.

"Well honestly I'm surprised, why'd you put yourself up in such a shabby inn?" said the new voice.

"Well I couldn't very well walk into the Diagon Hilton dragging her behind me now could I?" answered Lucius in annoyance

Hermione heard two sets of footsteps approach her immobile form on the floor. The face of Lucius loomed over her, and now, the face of a man she had never seen before, but who had a striking resemblance to Gregory Goyle, came into view and grinned oafishly at her. Tucked under the man's arm was a large cardboard box and in his hand he gripped the handle to a small portable kennel.

The man then turned away and set his burden on the bed. Then Hermione could only guess by the sounds that he stepped over to the little kitchen and poured himself some Fire Whiskey

"Listen carefully, Granger," Lucius said firmly, still looming over her, "because I'm not going to repeat myself. You will become a respectable, functional member of wizarding high society. You will wed my son and play the role of a happy bride. You will do all this, or you shall receive negative reinforcement for your negative behavior."

"Any attempt to run away or communicate with anyone without permission gets you a nice long torture session with about ten death eaters. The Dark Lord has given me honorable privilege to personally hunt you down and end your life should you escape… which you won't be able to anyways, so unfortunately I'll doubt I'll have the pleasure because you'd be dumber beyond comprehension to even try…. Augustus, the incantation!" he called to the man.

The second man hastily pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and Lucius snatched it from him. Pointing his wand at Hermione, he read the words on the paper, and flicked his wand at her. Hermione knew instantly it was some kind of powerful spell, but had never heard it before.

Folding it up and shoving it in his own pocket, he looked at her menacingly.

"I just bound you to me with a binding charm that lasts 24 hours. Should you venture farther than a radius of twenty feet from me without my verbal consent, you will find yourself incapacitated."

Hermione's eyes remained glossy and still, but inside she couldn't help but think how ironic Lucius' statement of her being dumb was. This pathetic charm only lasted 24 hours; surely gits like Augustus Goyle and Lucius Malfoy wouldn't remember to renew it every day at exactly the right time. She'd escape alright, and she'd get so far from Lucius only to turn around and laugh towards his direction. Kill her, bloody right!

Lucius, completely unaware of Hermione's thoughts, continued to explain to her, "But, just like negative reinforcement, you will also receive positive reinforcement for good behavior. For example, desisting from that bloody screaming when your petrifaction wears off earns you your next meal. …Should you manage not to disgust me, then I may spare a daily beating…." Lucius drawled on.

"Aw yes," he said, looking at the cardboard box on the bed, "One last thing, not being the insufferable mudblood bitch that you are gets you a few comforts from… home," and he leered at her with a pleasurable expression on his face.

If Hermione's face could move, it would have contorted into horror. Had they been to her house? But… her parents!

"Don't soil yourself," Lucius barked, "your daft muggle family is fine. Startled out of their wits, but fine. We merely allowed ourselves in and helped ourselves to a few of your things. Glad we managed to find the place… good to know where it is I would suspect…"

Hermione cringed at the thought of the likes of them terrorizing her family… in her own house no less! She was on fire with anger. How dare they… they will pay!

Lucius pulled some clothing out of the box to show Hermione… he displayed books from her bookshelf… compact disks… her paint set… among other things that could have only come from her bedroom. Hermione's heart panged, she hadn't seen those things in so long.

"Yes," Lucius said, dropping an item back in, "lots of precious little trinkets in here," his mouth formed an "o" as he mocked her with fake sentiment, pulling out a photo of Hermione with her mom and dad in front of their Christmas tree, "so adorable," Lucius cooed and then he hastily threw back into the box, "Oh my… and what's this? A snuggly?" Hermione's little seafoam green terrycloth bear emerged from the box, Lucius dangling it by its worn out flimsy leg.

Jerry! Hermione cried internally to her childhood friend. He threw that back in the box as well.

"If you'd like these things… you best be obedient and convincing!" Lucius warned. "Oh yeah…" he went on, "I almost forgot, if our trip back to the manor is smooth enough, you'll get a secret prize behind door number one!" and he abruptly shook the kennel. A squeal of frightened meows escaped from it.

Crookshanks! Hermione moaned deep within her mind.

The last time she saw Crookshanks was right before 6th year was to start… her mother and her were arguing about Hermione going to stay at Grimmauld Place. She was hastily packing her trunk, negating her mother's protests, telling her she didn't care how dangerous it was when she accidentally stepped on his tail. He darted under her bed to hide and was too cross with her to come out again before she officially left…

Hurt him and I'll tear your face off, she thought.

"Now," Lucius said, bending over and scooping up her rocklike form, "Get some sleep," and he tossed her on the bed. She landed stomach down, her face in a pillow. Being unable to see anything the two men might be doing, she then finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted from physical excursion and emotional distress…

~xxx~

……… "Remember Hermione, nothing is more important than getting the papers Lucius is giving Karkaroff tonight" ………

~xxx~

That morning, she was reluctantly quiet and cooperative. She had thought it through, and while it killed her to do so, she knew that at this point she was in no position to fight Lucius and would just have to wait until she was. She was silent when they left the creepy old motel. She followed her male captors around like a lost puppy while they ran a last few errands in the horrible Knockturn Alley.

The streets were filthy, dim and dismal, so Hermione kept her face turned up to the warm, bright sun. She estimated it to be early October, one of her favorite months, yet she wasn't enjoying any of it.

Had things been different, had Voldemort not started this terrible underground war, her and her Gryffindor class would've graduated normally, all together, that very previous June, and they would have celebrated all summer, late into the fall. Surely she would've had top honors, maybe even had been Head Girl, things she had looked forward to and worked for since that unforgettable September 1st, way back in year one.

But things definitely didn't turn out the way Hermione thought they would.

It had only been a few months of working with the Order alongside Harry and Ron as "unofficial members", traveling around the world performing secret missions, all the while being taught here and there by Professor Dumbledore himself, when he personally deemed their education complete and bestowed them their diplomas one entire year early.

One year did feel a bit drastic at the time, since if they had been at Hogwarts, they'd just be going into to their 7th and final year, but Dumbledore mostly did it to stifle poor Mrs. Weasley, who was the only one dead against them joining the Order.

"There is a rule!" she'd always insist, against the idea of the three of them involved in such dangerous situations, "You must be of legal wizarding age to be in the Order! They are too young!"

"Mrs. Weasley my dear," Dumbledore would always say, " 'Legal wizarding age' doesn't mean actual age, but merely one declared knowledgeable enough to safely and adequately perform magic after enough practical learning."

"But they haven't had enough practical learning!" Mrs. Weasley would plead, "Enough is enough. They should go back to Hogwarts for their 6th year! They're only sixteen!"

Dumbledore knew their ages well enough, and yes they were extremely young, but he was realistic enough to know that they would never go back to Hogwarts. Even if they were forced back, like they all had but been, they'd manage a way to escape. They weren't about to sit back and stay there given the state of things. They'd follow the Order to the ends of the Earth, no matter how hard the Order would try to get them to stop.

Albus Dumbledore was a strong wizard, but not even he could look Harry Potter into his startling green eyes and tell him he wasn't allowed to avenge the death of his entire family, especially after the horrible loss of his Godfather, his last living relative.

And if Harry Potter had his stubborn heart set on one thing, his loyal friends would surely follow. Dumbledore thought it hopeless; they would never give up, so he might as well take them under his wing and let them fight where he could keep an eye on them. They were obviously willing enough, and the most important characteristic of an Order member was loyalty. In fact, Dumbledore always said it was the only requirement one needed in order to be a member. Besides, if anyone had a right to be in on it, it was Harry Potter.

"Well then my dearest Mrs. Weasley," Dumbledore said one day as the September 1st of 6th year loomed so very near, finally coming up with an indisputable answer for her, "I am more than qualified to give them credits, I shall tutor them myself."

There was nothing poor Mrs. Weasley could have done then. Instead of going back to Hogwarts in the fall, Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the next few months in anonymous hotel rooms and train stations listening to Dumbledore's improvised lectures on history, theory and technique as the Order moved about the world in secret, searching and gathering information. He even had McGonagall owl them official copies of the N.E.W.T.S in which all three of them scored exceptionally high.

For in reality, they had learned more about magical ways and applications than they ever could have at Hogwarts, for they needed to know it in order to survive, and they had the best teachers they could've possibly had, Order members themselves.

If only Hermione had a wand right then with her in Knockturn Alley… or even some potions supplies. With so many different tactics she was capable of, one way or another she could get Lucius to call off the charm and she could run away and return to the Order.

But then she remembered… they'd instantly go to her house…. to her family… She couldn't have that! There was nothing she could do then. She'd have to behave…

'For now anyway,' she thought to herself.

With nothing to yell at her for, Lucius and Augustus said very little to her. Her stomach being empty again and becoming overjoyed by the developing pattern of being fed regularly, Hermione managed to eat a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausages, grits and poached eggs, despite the less than admirable conditions of the shabby dark pub they stopped at. Food it seemed, miraculously cheered her up, and it's not like she didn't need to put on the weight.

But actually, the progress of her recovery was quite remarkable. One would scarcely believe she was the same girl as the day before. After a bath, sleep in a real bed and a few good meals, her cheeks had regained their rosy color and her eyes were no longer sunken. Her hair, drying freely without the weight of dirt and grease, was now back to a state of natural elongated curls, subtly bouncing around her clean face. That in combination with her new clothes it was impossible to tell she had just been released from a hellish prison only the day before. She was only, for the time being, unfortunately skinny.

She felt better to say the least, both being able to think clearly despite the horrible circumstances, and feeling physically invigorated having been hydrated, cleaned, rested and most lovely of all, nourished! She wondered how long it would be before she regained her strong, sculpted, physique she had developed while working with the Order, right before the horrible night she was captured.

She estimated the binding charm on her would need renewing by eight o'clock that evening, and she was very interested to see if they remembered. Until then, she would not fight them.

It ate her up inside though, sitting placidly in the carriage as they neared nearer and nearer to Malfoy Manor, giving in to Lucius Malfoy's will. How she wished she could be making his life hell right then, since after all he didn't seem to care that he was doing that to her. But she dealt with it, and prayed desperately that she would have patience and not ruin her chances of escape.

Draco Malfoy however, wasn't even bothering with patience.

~xxx~

"It's almost 4:32! They're half an hour late!" Darco declared angrily to no one in particular.

Narcissa, a nervous wreck herself, barley managed waiting the four hours alone since her son had stormed off early that morning, as if the episode with the Parkinson daughter wasn't bad enough! He was still cross with her for making him wait alongside her in the parlor just off of the foyer just as four neared.

Little did she know that Draco had spent his time hiding from her and everyone else by playing a muggle sport called basketball in one of the smaller, practically forgotten ballrooms of the south wing.

His father would shit rocks if he knew, but Draco had a basketball hoop that attached to the back of the door. Since his parents hardly ventured further than the north wing of their entire house, Draco felt pretty secure there. In fact, the room got so little use of entertaining guests that Draco had all kinds of exercise equipment in there, but basketball especially calmed him. And since the 'little' ballroom was big enough to house a pool, there was plenty of room for him to let off some steam, the marble floor making quite an alright court.

Draco had discovered the pastime in a shop dedicated to muggle culture in Diagon Alley before his 4th year. His father also would have flogged him senseless if he had known Draco even stepped a toe into the place, but good thing for Draco, Lucius didn't know a lot of things. The truth is… he was always a little curious about Muggles.

Despite his few hours of clear head and released aggression, all of the stress of the situation came rushing back the minute a house elf called for him, saying his mother requested his presence for the much awaited arrival.

So there he sat, in a side room with his mother, more uncomfortable than ever, especially since he could here the faint approach of his family's carriage.

Lucius entered first, Augustus soon after, with Hermione by the shoulder. Climbing the intimidating stone steps to the huge looming doors adorned with a giant golden 'M' caused every muscle in Hermione's body to tighten. She was led through the doors to step into a magnificent foyer.

The ceiling vaulted to unreachable heights, a massive chandelier with countless sparkling crystals dangled from way up there. But the most outrageous spectacle was the fountain in the middle of the room, which trickled sparkling clear water into the diamond mounting. Just beyond the fountain were the two stoops of two separate staircases that came majestically together. Looking up to the tops of them, Hermione could see they led off into different directions. The thing that caught Hermione's eye the most though, was Draco when he finally appeared.

Both Hermione and Draco had built up the horrible moment of seeing each other's putrid faces so much in their minds. They imagined sneers, insults and outbursts of violence… but seeing the person you're being forced to marry for the first time in over two entire years is never what one expects.

He and Narcissa had come out of a side room, and Hermione was quite surprised at how tall and broad he was. Did he always look so mature? Had Hermione forgotten? She was fairly disappointed he wasn't the scrawny yet puff-chested, pompous, pale, sneering little rat her memory projected, but something rather a lot more intimidating. In front of her was not the sniveling little punk 5th year she last saw him as, but a young man.

Her eyes then met his face. His lips were slightly pressed together but he otherwise appeared emotionless, save for his piercing stormy blue eyes, which looked full of seriousness.

"Draco," she greeted softly, amazed a voice came out of her shocked face, curtseying as instructed by Lucius, her curls bouncing softly as she stood back upright.

"Hermione," Draco greeted back, also instructed, "Welcome to our home," he forced himself to say. Hermione managed a weak small smile.

It was the smile that finally did him in. Although he was supposed to, he could no longer act like he wasn't terribly uncomfortable and he averted his eyes away from her as to not give himself away.

He didn't recall her this way. He remembered little nerdy girl Hermione, not an otherwise pleasant looking young lady. The 15-year-old girl he once knew had certainly grown into herself, and she seemed to glow, which struck Draco as odd since he knew she was just released from Voldemort. It was just so utterly strange that she would be in his entryway under these circumstances.

There they were, practically adults to say the least, yet still under strict control, like when a mother and father force their little children to be playmates while they go off to some dull cocktail with the other parents.

The awkward silence that followed was finally broken by Narcissa.

"Well Lucius, I suppose Bubsy should show the… uh, girl her room?" she said looking at Lucius and only Lucius, obviously avoiding direct contact with Hermione. Perhaps she thought if she never interacted with her then she wasn't really there.

Hermione scoffed with mirth as quietly as she could. She didn't mind at all that she was to be ignored; in fact she wanted nothing to do with her in return. Why, if only she had a wand, how quickly she could take them all down. If only they knew that she had spent that last year in the deepest darkest forests, taking on Warlocks, Werewolves and other ghastly beasts with Harry, Ron and the rest of the Order as they searched for He-…

"Miss…" said a high child-like voice, "miss, you can follow me please."

Hermione looked up at Lucius, whom she had stayed near all day.

"I'll allow it," he said clearly, "until supper at 7 o'clock. Don't be late. Oh, and look nice," he added, looking more at Bubsy than Hermione, "we're having a guest."