Title: Precious Possession

Rating: M

Summary: After Harry Potter is defeated by Voldermort, the wizarding world is in great despair, the purebloods rule, while the rest are reduced to slavery. Hermione Granger, once a hero, now a slave, has just been brought by the mysterious Blaise Zabini. Her real journey now begins….here's a story of love and possession.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Chap 3: Deatheaters and more

Damn him to hell! A deatheater meeting? Did anyone fail to realize I'm a muggle?

"Can you please tell me why Zabini is having deatheaters over the house?" It was morning and I was in Elizabeta's room. Which was bigger then mine and her room was more "homely" then mine was too. She was in the mirror trying to fix her hair with her wand. But each style she came up with didn't satisfy her.

"Weren't you the one who told me, he didn't truly believe in the enslavement or anything?" I questioned her some more, when she finally put down her wand and turned to me.

"Hermione, darling, Blaise doesn't have many...strong beliefs as most purebloods do, but he does have them. He's not a deatheater, just most of his friends happen to be." She said with a smile.

I went next to her. "Can't you do this for me, once? Could you please serve them for me? I have an awfully bad feeling about this. Since..." I stopped mid-sentence, not knowing what stopped me.

"Since what?" Elizabeta asked me. I turned away from her and crossed my arms against my chest.

"Since...they didn't like me or my friends when we were at school." I felt Elizabeta put who hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'll go see what I could do." I smiled, and wiped away my tears.

"Thank you." She went and I sat on her bed. I didn't know what happened to my friends. I remember the last time we talked was at the Burrow. Ron and I promised each other we would always love each other no matter what. That was the last time I saw or heard from him. I've always wondered what happened and always worried for him. But after a couple of years, I've learned to repress my memories but only every now and then do I get the bitter sting of wanting to know more of what happened to him.

Elizabeta came back her face betraying everything. "I have to work tonight, don't I?" She nodded and I smiled somewhat.

"At least you tried." She came up to me.

"I tried Hermione. But he said you had to do it."

"Okay, let me get ready."

It was starting to get dark and they started to arrive. One after another, men in black and all other dark colors robes started to fill the downstairs room.

The first time I came out to serve the drinks. It got quiet and was nerve-racking. I recognized some of them: Malfoy, Goyle, Crabb, and some other ex-Slytherins.

None of them said anything which surprised me. Maybe this won't be that bad.

In the kitchen, as I was finishing many of the chores. I was picking the last of the tea cups when I heard a voice.

"Granger." I dropped a cup and as I went to pick it up I cut my hand.

"Shit!" I rushed to put it under cold water. I turned to see who it was that was calling my name and who was it?

"Malfoy?" I wrapped my hand in a rag and saw a flash of blond hair as he made his way to me. Wonderful, an old school rival to relish in my misery.

"Granger...granger...granger...it's wonderful to you see again."

"Not that I can say the same thing about you." I heard him let out a shallow laugh.

"Haha Mudblood, don't forget your place." I put the broken cup pieces on the table.

"What place? Don't tell me the place beneath a ferret twitching pureblood like you, who worships a man who also happens to be a mud--" I never got to finish my sentence, as Malfoy slapped me hard across the face, knocking me down to the ground.

"Still the arrogant Mudblood, I've noticed." He grabbed by my hair and pushed me up against the wall, pinning both mywrists above my head with one hand, as he used his other hand to stroke me.

"Where are you going?" He asked, when he noticed my eyes roaming around the room, looking for any possible escape.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He never did answer my question.

"You know, Mudblood, that Zabini makes you wear an interesting choice of clothing. You shouldn't really bend forward when in a room filled with men." His finger trailed from my jaw line to the top of my breasts.

I closed my eyes, ignoring all that he said. "Yes, or maybe Zabini just wants to get a peek without having to--"

"Malfoy?"

PrincessButtercup's notes: Read...and review