Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns these characters.

Summary: The relationship continues developing, plus a cliffhanger ending!

A/N: Hey y'all. I'm back in America, which means that I'm back in a country with friends, activities, responsibilities, school, sports...etc. So I am going to be a lot busier, and might not be able to update as frequently. But I will try, lord how I will try! I've become so addicted to fan fiction, you guys have no idea...I stayed home from the beach today to type this up! Anyhow, I really hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and I'm so happy people seem to like the fact that I'm going slow, and developing the relationship carefully. I was worried that I was boring everyone to death. Anyway, read, enjoy, and if you do---please review!

Pansy shifted in her shoes and gritted her teeth.

"Honestly Ms. Malfoy, there are members in the commission who are…questioning your loyalty towards the Dark Lord. It would be prudent of you to speak more positively in our meetings, and for god's sake stop your endless complaints about mudblood policy. It's no longer an issue for debate!" Albert Sinclair, the corpulent patriarch of Ireland's finest pureblood family---and the head of the Pureblood Commission, eyed her seriously.

"And it wouldn't hurt, Ms. Malfoy, if you wore your Voldemort badge every now and then. It would certainly help quiet the accusations and suspicions that people are starting to form about you."

Pansy took a deep breath. She had to play nice with these people.

"I'm sorry Albert, I just don't know what's gotten into me lately." Using her favorite excuse, she continued, "It's just been so hard since my husband was killed, and I've been left alone in that house." She cast her eyes downward, to accentuate her supposed sadness.

The excuse worked, like always.

"Oh of course my dear," Sinclair put a kind hand on her shoulder, "What happened to your husband….and even yourself, was tragic. We on the Commission have nothing but the utmost sympathy. But please, Pansy, you cannot continue to question our mudblood policy! You know Lord Voldemort is directly behind it!"

"Of course Albert, I again apologize. I guess I just need some more rest. See you at the next meeting?"

Albert Sinclair gave Pansy a hug, and went on his way. Pansy continued her walk down the hallway of the Ministry of Magic, heading for the exit and a respite from the endless and meaningless prattle that characterized every Pureblood Commission meeting.

Someone was waiting for her at the end of the hallway.

"Did Albert just chastise you again?" asked a grinning Gaius Calega, leaning against the wall. He spoke with the easy confidence that characterized all the Calegas---Italy's most regarded Pureblood family and personal favorites of Voldemort.

"Yeah," Pansy sighed. Gaius and Draco had been great friends, and in fact Gaius had been best man at their wedding. Though arrogant, Pansy liked him more than nearly every other Death Eater. Gaius was wickedly intelligent and largely easy-going, and Pansy had even once lamented to herself that she should have married Gaius instead.

"I tell you, everytime you bring up mudblood policy in the meetings, the arseholes of every single member clench up. You should see their faces, I doubt a single topic could annoy them more."

Pansy laughed bitterly. "Good, I hope I ruin their day. All they want to talk about is Voldemort badges and Voldemort parades and Voldemort statues anyway."

Gaius sighed along with her, but then grinned again, speaking in a low, bemused voice. "Hey Pans, I've heard rumors that you somehow got... Hermione Granger as your slave." He looked questioningly at Pansy.

Pansy's stomach clenched. She had bribed a lot of people so that her new slave's identity would remain a secret. But the Calega name was more powerful than even the name Malfoy.

"Yeah," she admitted. Gaius became animated and excited.

"Holy god, how'd you do that? I had no idea she was even still alive, and I would have figured that she would have never been released if she had been alive. And you got her as your slave! How many favors did you have to call in for that? Oh and please tell me you're abusing her horrifically! I can't even imagine what I'd do to her if she was my slave."

Pansy suddenly very badly wanted to end this conversation. "I had to bribe a lot of people, including the Minister of Security," she stated plainly, as if uninterested. "And yeah, I almost killed her during the second day of her captivity."

A delighted Gaius clapped his hands. "Wonderful! I still remember during the war, when we all tread in fear of her, and now she's your slave! Seriously, you must show me sometime."

Pansy nodded. "Of course, Gaius." Continuing her movement down the hallway, she politely bid farewell. "Now, if you excuse me…."

Gaius bowed courteously and moved aside, saying goodbye. Pansy stalked down the hallway towards the exit, suddenly worried about Hermione. Gaius knowing about her was tolerable, he was a friend. But if others, especially others on the Pureblood Commission knew, it could become a serious problem. She reached the exit, and walked out towards her limousine, her mouth full of a bitter taste.

Hermione was waiting for by the door when she came home, of course. Hermione was always waiting for her.

"Good evening mistress." She bowed politely. "Dinner is ready."

"Good evening Hermione," Pansy replied. The two women had worked themselves into such a routine that their evening conversations were nearly scripted. Pansy could recite Hermione's lines in her head, and she had come to regard their polite banter as more of an annoyance than anything.

"How was your day, mistress?"

"Oh, you know," Pansy sighed, "It was fine, like always. How was yours?" She knew exactly the answer she'd receive, and it infuriated her that her life at home had become perhaps even more mundane than her life outside.

Hermione smiled politely, like she did every single evening, and replied. "It was fine as well, mistress." She turned towards the kitchen. "Shall I serve dinner?" She took steps in the direction of the kitchen, and Pansy went to follow her when something suddenly snapped in her.

"Actually, you know what?"

Hermione stopped in her tracks, surprised by this break in routine.

Pansy continued. "You know what, actually my day was shit. These Pureblood Commission meetings….I don't know if you're aware of them, but they are such a waste of time, we literally talk about the most inconsequential topics imaginable." She felt her burden lifted somewhat.

Hermione was looking at her, trying to gauge her face and respond with the appropriate reaction. She decided to play it safe. "Oh? I'm sorry to hear that mistress."

But Pansy wasn't done. "I mean, I'm sure you don't know this Hermione, but we are mismanaging this country so badly." She her hands up to her face and sighed. "You should see how badly the schools are being run. They tried to re-open Hogwarts last year, but it was so badly managed that they only enrolled fifteen students. Fifteen! Oh, and the hospitals, and the libraries, and even the roads, they are all just decrepit. And what do we talk about in our meetings? More parades and statues for Voldemort!" She laughed to herself.

Hermione could barely control her excitement. She had been cut off from the world for so long and had been desperate for any sort of information, so she decided to encourage Pansy's venting. "I'm sure it's not that bad, mistress."

Pansy looked up at her. "Not that bad! Not that bad! If anything, I might be painting a rosy picture! You should see the stuff we're doing in Europe. I went to visit the war zone last year, and….my god I can't even describe it. It was bad here in Britain during the war, but it doesn't even compare. The stuff we're doing in Europe is just….." she trailed off, unable to continue and looking sad.

Hermione stepped towards her and put her hand on Pansy's shoulder. "It's not your fault."

Pansy stared up at the painting of Lucius, and then laughed bitterly. "You know, sometimes I think it would have been better if your side had won. If I had known…about….all this, I might have switched sides."

This was a serious revelation, Hermione thought. That statement was something that could probably get Pansy thrown in prison. Hermione decided to be equally forthcoming.

"Our side probably would have done the same." Pansy looked up puzzled, and Hermione continued. "You know, nearly every pureblood family joined your side, right? By the time I was captured, there were a lot of people on my side who were advocating war against all purebloods, arguing that the war was entirely all purebloods versus all muggle wizards. Even Ron….I mean he's as pureblood as it comes, and even he was saying that. We probably would have done the same, if we had won."

Pansy looked at Hermione, trying to see if she was joking or lying. She decided that Hermione was being sincere, and chuckled to herself. "I guess we're all pretty much the same, huh?"

Hermione smiled back. "Yeah."

Pansy was in a good mood. It had felt so good to vent, it had felt so good to have someone to talk with again. Why hadn't she done this sooner?

"Shall I serve dinner, mistress?"

"Yeah," Pansy nodded, and then suddenly was hit with an idea. Since she had already broken routine, why not break it further? "Actually, it was such a lovely day today, why don't we eat outside on the patio?"

Hermione turned back to look at her, and broke into another smile.

"Okay."

The patio table was a glass affair, more ornamental than anything, and Hermione briefly wondered if it would support the weight of all the dishes. But, perhaps magically imbued, the table held steadfast.

"Ooooh, doesn't this look nice?" Pansy stepped out from the kitchen, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Thanks," Hermione replied, proud of her work. Eating outside was so much more casual than eating inside, and their conversation reflected the difference.

"You know," Pansy began playfully, "I've never seen you drink. I thought I was being sooo nice when I offered you wine that first day, and you turned me down! In fact, I don't think I ever even saw you drink butterbeer when we were back at Hogwarts."

"Ah yes," Hermione replied, equally playful. "Well you know, that first day, I was still pretty suspicious. I half expected the wine to be laced with arsenic or something. And as for Hogwarts? I was just a nerd, what can I say?"

Pansy laughed. When she had finished, she placed the glasses on the table and began pouring wine into both of them, awkwardly again because of her arm. "Well, now you don't have much of a choice, do you?" She began speaking in an overly dramatic, official tone. "For you see, I am your legal owner. And as decreed in Addendum 13c of the Muggle Servitude Act, when an owner wants to get her servant drunk, the servant will obey, or the punishment is transfiguration into a walrus!"

Hermione burst out laughing, Pansy joining her. When they were done, Hermione reached over and took a sip of her wine, and scrunched her nose into a bitter face.

"What, you don't like it?"

Hermione shook her head. Pansy reached into her pocket and drew her wand, making elaborate movements with it in the air.

"Well, I hope you enjoy life as a walrus."

Hermione giggled again, and Pansy put down the wand, sitting down on the bench beside her. Hermione served food onto their plates, and they began leisurely eating, while looking at the sunset over the trees.

"Oh, you'll never guess who I saw at the Ministry of Magic last week," Pansy said suddenly, breaking the sound of quiet chewing.

Hermione looked at her with interest. "Who?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart, remember him? That con-artist of a Dark Arts professor?"

Hermione gasped. "He's still alive? Gosh, and I used to be madly in love with him, too."

"Oh really? Draco was convinced that he was madly in love with your boy Potter. We could see the bulge in his pants everytime Harry asked a question."

This prompted another fit of giggling from Hermione, and when she was done, Pansy spoke again.

"Well, you'll be glad to hear this. Guess what he's doing now?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, prompting Pansy to continue.

"He's a secretary! That big blowhard is now just a secretary, an assistant secretary no less, in the Department of Complaints!"

Hermione clapped her hands together in delight. "Ha! Serves him right, you know he tried to erase Harry's memory?" She paused, and then tentatively asked, "So…how about anyone else from…you know, back in the day, at Hogwarts?"

It seemed like she was talking about things decades in the past, when it had in fact been just a couple of years.

Pansy thought for a second. "Well, remember Marcus Flint? He used to be some important minister, until he got drunk and insulted Lucius. Lucius had him busted down to security guard at Gringotts."

Hermione chuckled yet again. "I swear he tried to eat Crookshanks once."

"And hmmm, let's see, Lisa Turpin, the Ravenclaw, she's now the Herbology professor at Hogwarts, or at least she was, until they shut it down again."

"Oh I remember her, she and Neville were so excited about Herbology."

"OH! And the Patils! Oh, it was quite the scandal! Well, even though they fought on your side, they were purebloods, right? Lord Voldmort announced a general amnesty to all purebloods who surrendered, and they did. They were given pretty cushy jobs too, until one day earlier this year they both suddenly disappeared! It turns out they defected to America! Oh you should have seen the outrage!"

This news in particular made Hermione happy. "Really? Good! The Patils were like sisters to me. I'm glad they got out."

Pansy sat back in her chair. "Yeah, to be honest, I always liked them too. And all the Slytherin boys were secretly in love with both of them. You know, the twin fantasy and everything."

Hermione grinned and replied, "Same for us. Dean Thomas in particular. He even wrote a poem to one of them, Padma I think, but he gave it to Parvati on accident, or something…it was great. I'm really glad they survived."

Pansy paused, thinking of the best way to phrase what she was about to say.

"I'm glad you survived, too."

Hermione was confused with emotion and didn't know how to respond, so she did the best she could.

"Thank you for saving me."

Pansy reached out to take a sip of wine, before speaking again.

"We should have done this a lot sooner."

Hermione nodded.

"Yes, we should have."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, where they just looked at each other. Finally, Hermione leaned forward to pick at her food.

Hermione turned her head to see what Pansy was doing. Pansy had moved closer, and was staring at Hermione with a queer look on her face. Before she could ask what was wrong, Pansy had brought her hand up and cupped her face, and leaned in for a soft kiss.

Her lips were gentle and tasted of wine. But this time Hermione didn't mind the taste.