Oh look! I finished the chapter! It's about time too. Writing future chapter scenes doesn't help get the next chapter out! Thank you to my followers and favorites. I value each of you.

-o-o-o-

Hermione woke up due to the tap-tap of shoes on the stone floor. A smile graced her lips. "Kitten, I'm getting you out of here."

Hermione jumped to her feet and slammed herself into the freezing metal bars, gripping them tightly. Her lips were a grin splitting from ear to ear.

"Thank you! How? When? Thank you!"

The man unlocked the cell and brought Hermione into a strong hug. No words were spoken as the two hugged. Hermione felt as though her heart was dropping down a never-ending hole as his arms tightened. Despite the comfort he brought and excitement of leaving the cell, the intelligent woman had a horrendous sense of foreboding.

"What… is the catch," she mumbled into his shoulder.

The man buried his nose into her hair as he pulled her into him, gripping her form as if she were going to fade away.

"You are my slave."

Hermione froze. Slave? That meant…

She released him and drew back. Reluctant arms let her go. Hermione held herself and hunched over, looking away from her savior even if she couldn't see him anyways.

"I am never leaving this place… Am I."

It wasn't a question. The sorrowful murmur was filled with such despair, such knowing… It was the tone of someone submitting after a long battle.

Hermione heard the unmistakable clinking of a chain and backed into her cell, eyes wide and body shivering.

"I'm not going to hurt you…" the man spoke softly, "You'll be able to stay in my room… Take a real bath… I'll be able to take care of you better... "

She didn't trust this idea. The thought of taking a real bath was like an unbelievable dream. A foreing concept of a rich life filled with luxury. Yet… at what cost…

Hermione jumped as a hand was placed on her shoulder. "I'll protect you. All you have to do is listen to everything I say. You must obey me."

Tears sprang to her eyes and Hermione resented it. How often was she going to cry? Why couldn't she just control herself and be strong. She was weak… And even though Hermione hated to admit it… She needed someone to take care of her.

"Oh… Okay…" She whispered, accepting her fate.

A hand rested against her collarbone and Hermione flinched when something metal began sliding onto her neck.

"Don't be scared."

She didn't move a muscle as the metal slithered through her tangled hair and looped around her neck. She heard the hissing of a snake and then a casp. It was a collar, with a charm on it. It was unlikely Hermione would be able to break it. The heaviness of the coller weighed her down. Dark despair grew around her heart like shadows filling a room.

The sounds of a chain clicking under her chin disturbed the woman from her thoughts.

"It will be okay," he whispered into her ear, pulling her into a tender hug. Lips touched her temple with compassion.

Hermione stumbled lightly as the chain pulled the collar around her neck, urging her forward. Shame and vulnerability pulsed through her veins. Hermione hesitantly stepped out of the cell, following the lead of the leash. Her steps were slow and cautious, unsure of the ground. She could feel the incline upwards as she walked, grateful there were no stairs. Her bare feet made a subtle slapping sound against the stone and although it had been some time since she felt it, Hermione was insecure with her nudity.

A hand grabbed her bicep and stopped her from walking farther.

"You will… have to crawl through the manor," the man murmured.

"Oh…"

On shaking hands, Hermione lowered herself to the floor. The green slime was back on her body as humiliation gripped her tightly. Yet she didn't argue with the order. There was no reason to. He was going to take care of her… if she could only do as he said. Hermione was certain that she was about to enter a world that had a lot of rules.

The familiar sound of the cavern door opening greeted her ears and with a tug of the leash. With hesitation, Hermione tried to identify the new texture of the ground. It was smooth and chilly, but definitely not stone. Against her bare knees, she felt the slight indentations of a paneling. Wood, she concluded.

Hermione crawled in silence, following the man's lead. They turned down multiple hallways and he held open a door for her to crawl through. She continued forwards until she felt the tug of the chain behind her.

"We're about to go up stairs," he stated.

With a deep exhale, Hermione began to rise from the floor. She was not looking forward to walking up stairs while unable to see each step.

A hand rested on her lower back. "No," the man stated, "You still must crawl… It's too risky."

An ocean of hopelessness drowned Hermione as she crouched back down. Conscientiously, she reached her hand forward, feeling around for the step. They went up the stairs slowly, Hermione leading the way with the man following behind her. It was awkward to crawl up the stairs. Her shin pressed into the edge of each stair, causing an uncomfortable sensation. She pushed her toes against the stair behind her, pushing her up slightly with every step. The woman's torso swayed side to side at odd angles as she put one individual hand on the next step at a time. Her knees had begun to hurt and she reminisced of the luxury of walking. Forty-eight steps of uncomfortable and awkward pain later, she exhaled a sigh of relief.

The chain tugged again and Hermione followed. This time her knees scratched against what was obviously a carpet. The sensation was far worse than the hardwood floor. The fibers dug into her skin, sure to cause minor rug-burns.

"Well, if it ain't our little prisoner."

Hermione's body jolted at the voice and her heart pounded against her ribcage. Male, and definitely not a friend.

"The little whore is growing desperate for attention," The safe voice replied casually. Hermione's heart sank. "So I decided to make her my personal slave."

A sinister chuckle sent shivers up her spine and goose bumps along her cold flesh.

"A perfect mudblood to be put into place. You'll have to share her with me some time."

Terror streaked through Hermione's body. No. This couldn't happen. She would kill herself before that happened.

The tug of the chain brought Hermione out of the dreadful thoughts.

"I don't like to share, Amycus," the man said sternly.

Despite the fear gripping her, Hermione felt a small sense of comfort. She exhaled in relief. The man was safe and would protect her. He was her savior.

"That can be changed, Draco."

The threatening statement shook Hermione to the core. Her brown orbs were pin pricks in the vass whiteness of her eyes. Cold buckets of terror dumped on top of her head. It was Draco Malfoy who held her captive. Bellatrix was Draco Malfoy's aunt. Draco and Bellatrix lived in Malfoy Manor. It was all coming together now. The pot holes in her head were connected and filling.

An overwhelming pounding caused Hermione to whimper out. She lowered herself to the floor and gripped her head for dear life. A horrible chorus of screams haunted her ears. The pain of crucio replayed throughout her body. Her arm. Her arm felt like it was being torn into pieces. Glass shattered in her veins.

"There are plenty of mudbloods at Hogwarts for you to choose from Amycus. I'm sure the amount of options is overwhelming," a familiar voice hissed out.

The sounds were like nails being stabbed into her ears. Hermione weeped for the silence that was the cell. She wanted to go back. She had been safer in the dungeon. Malfoy had always detested her and had tormented her for years. And now she was going to be raped by Amycus. Hermione didn't want that, but if he didn't rape her, then he would rape other girls at Hogwarts. The woman sobbed out in anguish. There were innocent lives at Hogwarts being tortured and killed.

The ear-splitting screams joined with the pounding drum in her head, creating a duet of musical agony. It was as though she was sitting in front of a timpani, as the orchestra around her played the ending of Shostakovitch's 5th Symphony. Someone, far in the audience, was wailing.

"Mudblood!"

Tears flooded on the floor and fingers gripped her head. No. This was all wrong. She should be with Harry and Ron. She isn't at Malfoy Manor. She's not going to be tortured by death eaters. If she could just wake up, Hermione would find herself sleeping in her bed in the tent.

She fell forward and hit the floor with a hard slap.

"Cut that shit out. Didn't I tell you to be quiet?!"

Hermione bit her lip and whimpered. The wailing stopped but the orchestra played on.

A sharp hit to her ass made Hermione cry out.

She whined, "y-yes…"

Another hard spank echoed in the halls. Fear and humiliation shook her. She was hyperventilating. Hermione wondered when she had started. Trying to focus, the woman took slow deep breaths.

"Yes, what? Mudblood," Draco commanded.

"Yes, M-master…" Hermione conceded.

The next spank didn't come. Instead Hermione heard laughter from the death eater.

"Seems you have a lot of training to do before she becomes a proper slave," Amycus chuckled.

"I enjoy the game," Draco replied shortly.

The trio of bass drums continued their serenade inside her head. The weight of her body was too much to bear, as if instead of carrying a boulder, she herself was the boulder.

"Come," Draco commanded and pulled on the leash.

Hermione couldn't move.

"I said… Come!"

A burning heat zapped her neck and Hermione stumbled as she crawled to her Master.

"Good girl."

"Kahahaha…"

Hermione desperately tried to close her ears shut as Draco led her away. If only she could have been deafened and not blinded. The death eater's distant laughter promised an entire world of destruction.

Fatigue snuck into Hermione's eyes and she felt her head dropping. Her movements were growing sluggish and her head throbbed in blinding pain. The chain was becoming taught.

"Faster mudblood."

Hermione groaned softly in reply. Her brain was too exhausted to be able to comprehend the actions to form words. Her arms snapped under the massive weight of her body.

The leash yanked the heavy collar around her neck.

"Get up."

Tears streamed down her face as searing flames shot into her neck. Hermione screamed in her head, commanding each limb to obey her desire. But her body didn't move. The timani banged behind her eyes.

A hand gently moved Hermione's matted curls away from her face. She strained her aching eyes to look up at the man, yet all she saw was darkness.

-o-o-o-

Warm.

That was the first thing Hermione registered.

She was curled around herself, laying on a padded surface. A fluffy blanket slid down her body as she sat up. Cautious hands groped the floor around her, first meeting what seemed like a thick pillow, then a hard wooden floor.

"How'd you sleep?"

Hermione jumped and whipped her head around. She brought the blanket up to cover her breasts, as if the man hadn't seen them before. But it was different now. She knew who he was…

"Why?"

"You're going to have to be more specific than that, Princess," he replied casually. By the sound of his voice, Hermione guessed Draco was only a few feet away from her.

"Why you!" she snapped, finding hot coals residing deep within her, "You hate me. You've tormented me for years. You've humiliated me. You've degraded me. You've harassed my friends. You tried to kill Dumbledor! Why are you taking care of me?"

After Hermione's deafening rant, all that was heard were the huffs from her being out of breath. The silence was so stifling it caused her face to scrunch up in frustration

"Well?" Hermione demanded.

"Watch your tone, kitten."

Hermione fell silent. She might be able to go off on him, but clearly disrespecting him wasn't going to pass. Feeling his intense gaze on her, Hermione nodded and lowered her head.

"I've already told you why."

"No… You've told me why you're different from your family. Not why you would protect me."

"You don't deserve to be harmed."

She didn't deserve to be harmed. He didn't hate her. When did that change? When did Draco go from hating muggle-borns to recognizing their innocence? But there was still more she needed to know.

"Draco?"

"Yes," he replied in a light and curious voice.

"How did I get captured?"

Hermione didn't hear him answer. Instead she heard the shifting of clothing and felt Draco's feet send subtle vibrations through the floor.

"Come, kitten. You need a bath."

A hand grazed her own, signalling it was there to guide her. Hermione looked up at where the man must be. What could have happened that was so horrendous that he wouldn't tell her. Didn't she have a right to know? Slowly, Hermione touched the offered hand and stood up. She walked with uncertain steps, following his gentle hand. The floor changed from wood to cold tile and his hand dropped. The sound of water pouring into a tub greeted her ears.

"Uhm…"

"Do you prefer honeysuckle or lavender," he questioned.

What a strange concept, for him to be concerned with her scent preferences. Why would he have those options available? Did he enjoy flowers?

"Honeysuckle I suppose."

Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to the other as a delicate honeysuckle scent filled the room. The water was swished around, slapping against itself and the steady walls of the tub.

"Come here."

She took tentative steps forward, holding her hands slightly to her sides. Using his voice as her guide, Hermione walked forward. His hand reached hers and was guided down. Hot water and bubbles reached up her wrist.

"Is that too hot?"

"It's… it's good."

"Alright. I'll help you in. Hold onto me."

Hermione brought her knee up high and set her foot into the tub. Gripping his shoulders for support, she scooped her other leg over and gradually lowered herself down. Hot water rushed around her, swimming between every appendage. Her hair grew heavy as more water consumed it. Bubbles crinkled and steam rose. A sense of tranquility flowed into her pores and Hermione wondered if it was due to the relief of having a soothing bath, or because of a potion in the water. Warm water flowed down her head, soaking her hair. The woman sat still, her eyes closed, as Draco poured more water on her hair.

Long fingers reached into her curls, massaging her head. Hermione resisted leaning into the relaxing touch. She could control her desires. This was Draco Malfoy. He may have shown her kindness, but Hermione couldn't discredit the years of knowledge she had about him. His fingers continued to rub shampoo into her hair before he was pouring water on her again.

"How long was I sleeping?"

"Three hours."

Hermione nodded as his hands began to rub conditioner into her hair.

"Those knots will never come out," she mumbled, her head falling.

"I am a wizard Hermione. Well versed in potions if you didn't remember."

His hands stopped, as if realizing what he just said. Hermione didn't react. Was he making a joke? Teasing her? Or was he pointing out her injuries from captivity?

Draco coughed lightly and began running his fingers through her messy hair. He pulled her thick locks through his hands, saturating the length.

"There is a detangle potion in this conditioner," he stated in a strained voice.

"Ah."

A tense silence surrounded them as he continued washing her hair.

"Why didn't you apparite us to your room?"

"I was worried your mind or body wouldn't be able to handle that."

It was a reasonable excuse to have her suffer the humiliation of crawling through the manner, yet it didn't give Hermione any comfort.

A bar of soap began sliding over her shoulders and Hermione squirmed. Was she really going to let Draco Malfoy wash her body? Was she going to give the bully who had tormented her for years access to her body? Yet… Hermione swallowed the shameful realization… She had already given him access to her body. The man had already bathed her with clothes in her cell. He had already touched her body intimately…

Hermione surrendered her body and leaned against the back of the tub, finally relaxing into the hot water. Draco scrubbed her arms and shoulders gently. The bar glided over her face, down her neck, and moved below her collar bone. Hermione held her breath as the soap circled her heavy breasts like a bull's-eye. It rubbed over her nipples and lowered to her stomach and waist. He guided his bar of soap through her lower curls and inner thighs, yet didn't touch her himself. The soap continued around her thighs and down her legs as if he didn't just wash her intimate area.

Hermione turned away from the man as he continued to wash the filth off her body. She must have a thick bush of hair growing. Even though Draco had obviously seen this, Hermione felt embarrassed by her body's natural hair growth. Other natural body functions interrupted her humiliation.

"Draco-" She began.

"No. You call me Master. All the time," he cut her off sternly.

Hermione wanted to yell at him, yet didn't have the energy to fight.

"Master," she continued, "Why have I not gotten my period?"

He didn't respond right away. He poured water down her body, washing away the soap.

"Your body is too malnourished to function that way. Time to get out of the tub."

Hermione held onto his hands tightly as she carefully stepped over the tub and stepped onto the cold floor. Her body shivered and Hermione crossed her arms in an attempt to cover her pointed nipples. A large towel was wrapped around her body, holding her in a cocoon. Draco held her hand as he led her from the bathroom and back into his room.

"Can I please have my clothes," Hermione bravely asked.

Draco gently pushed her down and Hermione sat on what felt like a couch.

"Can I please have my clothes, Master."

Hermione understood him. She tried again.

"Can I please have my clothes, Master?"

His voice moved around the room as he spoke. "You haven't earned clothes yet."

"Earned clothes?" She questioned indignantly.

"Yes," He answered. Draco's voice was once again hard and cold. "You must earn luxuries Princess."

How dare he?! She wasn't-

Hermione stopped her enraged thoughts. She was his. He could do whatever he wanted to. If Draco said she had to earn the luxury of wearing clothes, then that was law. She was no longer in the world where wearing clothing was a given.

She jumped up, the towel falling to the floor.

"The war!" Hermione exclaimed, "What's happened? How long has it been?"

"Kitten," Draco began softly, "Sit back-"

The fire Hermione once contained was back, and it would not be smoldered.

"No! How many months have I been here? What has happened in the war? Where is Harry and R-"

SMACK!

"You will NOT speak to me that way Kitten."

SMACK!

Hermione cried out as his hand spanked her butt again. It had happened so fast. First she was standing and yelling at him, and less than a second later Hermione was forced over the armrest.

"Do you understand, Kitten?

SMACK!

Hermione whimpered. Her butt was stinging. She tried to shove herself off the couch. Strong hands grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back and holding tightly. Hermione struggled in his grasp.

"Let me go!"

"Accio paddle."

WHAP!

"AAAAAAaaahhhh!" Hermione bit her lip as she cried out. Her ass throbbed from the hit.

"Are you going to behave now, Kitten?"

Hermione wiggled lightly.

WHAP!

She wailed loudly, tears streaming from her tightly closed eyes.

"Answer me, Kitten!"

WHAP!

"Yes, Master!" Hermione hastily replied.

"Yes, master, what?"

WHAP!

"YYYYYAAAAHHHH! Yes, Master! I will behave!"

Hermione tensed in anticipation of the next hit, yet it never came. She was pulled up and fell into Draco's arms.

"Good Girl," he praised as he nuzzled the top of her head. His powerful arms wrapped around her shaking body, holding her close to him.

Hermione wondered if life as Draco's slave would truly be better than life in the dungeons…

-o-o-o-

A/N

This chapter was so hard to write. I just had horrible writers block for every scene! It's like I was trying to make a filler chapter be significant.

But thank you for your reviews! I don't think ya'll understand how happy every individual review makes me. More reviews makes your story more attractive to read. Lots of favorites and reviews.
VOTE!

I need some help with a plot option:

1)This can get Dark and less romantic (but still some). Much more tragic and Stockholm syndrome with a semi abusive master. Some tragic things happen to Hermione to make this hurt/comfort intense.

Or option

2)This can be grey with cute romance. Some abusive scenes and some romantic scenes. Hermione will be treated with more mercy and not have to suffer as much.

Please comment either 1 or 2 to vote. The vote ends when I post chapter seven (which will be minimum one month or more).

VOTE!