Chapter 2
The bedroom was a definition of luxury, all in soft beige colours-not that she cared. She just saw some brownish-white blur around her, while distantly listening to the squeaky voices of the elves who fretted over her. She just wanted to sleep, oh how she needed some sleep... and eat and bathe. She never felt more miserable in her life, and she survived a war. When the elves healed her bruised face and broken ribs, they levitated her to the bathroom while she was in half-conscious state. She didn't know exactly what was happening around her and even though she enjoyed warm water on her skin and matted hair, she felt unease creeping up on her. Her trauma of the past two days made her almost forget about her own ordeal and she finally relaxed in the bath.
Somewhere in the meantime she fell unconscious and when she woke up she was dressed in a soft, silky gold nightgown, half-sitting in the huge, incredibly soft king-size bed with satin beige sheets. In front of her was a big lit fireplace, making the room even more visually pleasing. She was woken up with one pop of the house elf who brought her some creamy soup and toast with cheese, and she ate with incredible vigor... until it hit her. She was fully conscious now, and looking through the window she figured it was close to the sunrise. The glass from the outside was a little blurred because of the November cold, but she could see some huge garden underneath. She supposed it was the second floor of the mansion, somewhere on the east side. It was somehow picturesque, the serene-looking girl watching the sunrise... until she took some silver ornament from the desk and tried to throw it and break the glass. But it only fell down with a thud and the glass remained intact. So the whole room was secured and it was her personal prison. It was then that she finally broke down. She started sobbing over her own miserable destiny and lost future, feeling all of the worst emotions one human could possibly comprehend. She was afraid, so very afraid of everything that awaited her. And she didn't like being afraid, she wasn't used to it, she wasn't used to not being in control. She always had at least one person by her side, up until now.
So she wept, screamed hysterically without even realizing it, until she heard someone on the other side of the door. She felt small surge of magic and heard the lock clicking. There, on the doorway stood a beautiful, regal woman with long blonde hair cascading her back, dressed in elegant blue nightgown. Her face looked like one of porcelain dolls and she watched Hermione with big blue eyes witch lacked any compassion.
She ignored Hermione's horror-stricken face and with perfect measured grace came closer and looked at the girl kneeling on the ground and pulling her hair in mid-wail.
"Don't pull your hair, you will tangle it and today is a ceremony, you should look presentable." She said coldly, her fair face looking slightly disgusted.
Hermione was so shocked with this woman's nerve, that she stopped crying immediately and looked at her with disbelief.
"My hair is not my top priority right now." She answered as calmly as possible, even though all the fear dissipated and instead she felt great fury rising within her.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your tantrum, but you're getting married in three hours, and your screams woke me up an hour too early, so I suggest you start getting ready and I will go back to my wing." Narcissa said, ignoring Hermione's shimmering rage which she could feel even from foot apart. Strong magic, interesting.
"My tantrum? My tantrum?! I don't give a flying fuck about a wedding with your psycho of a son, I will kill myself before-" Hermione started shouting, throwing all the pleasantries through the window and trying not to jump on this old bitch and strangle her, but was interrupted with the sharp stinging pain in her face, as if someone started slapping her hard.
Narcissa jerked her wand and released the hex, showing no sign of anger, or even nervousness.
"Be careful with your tone, girl. You're here at the mercy of my son and you will act accordingly. If I hear another sound from this room, I will show you just how capable I am in inflicting pain and leaving no mark. Now go to the bathroom, the elves will be here shortly." Narcissa strode off not waiting for the answer, leaving Hermione gaping. It was official; she as the slave of the house, and if she did anything to piss them off, she would be tortured.
At first, she tried to think of the way to get out of there, to just run away from that hell. Her analytical brain quickly shuffled through all the possibilities until it ran out of them. When the reality hit her she cried some more, but it wasn't hysterical anymore. It was pitiful and quiet and she balled up on the carpet, hugging her knees and wathcing the sunrise, trying to deal with the grief of the complete loss of her life.
That was how the two elves found her, with tangled hair and face blotchy from the constant flow of tears.
"Young mistress has to get up, Elly and Semmie must help you get ready!" One of them, dressed in a clean pink sheet squeaked. Hermione reconned that this one was Elly, and the other one, dressed in a blue sheet was Semmie.
She averted her dead look from them to the window and sighed wistfully, and finally managed to stand on her weak and tired legs. The elves, unexpectedly nice to her even though she was a Mudblood, tried to make her look as pretty as possible. They brought some silky white nightdress which she supposed was for after, for consummation part, and felt bile rising up her throat. Then they brought a beautiful white robe embroidered with silver intricate designs. The matching white sash was supposed to go around her waist. It was disgusting to her. Silk scratched her skin and the sash smothered her, not allowing enough space to breathe. The elves started doing their incredible magic on her hair and the result was one perfect braid intertwined with some white flowers. The idea was, she guessed, alright, and if she wanted it it would be beautiful, but upon looking at herself in the mirror she wanted to throw up.
They were doing the last touch ups on her numb body while she was more and more out of it. It was like she was watching herself from somewhere above, with no way of stopping this madness. Soon after she heard a click on the door and saw the impeccable figure of Narcissa Malfoy. She sent the elves away and made Hermione stand up so she could size her up properly.
"They did a good job. You look very pretty, miss Granger, although you're very pale. Nerves don't do much for your complexion, do try to calm down." She sounded if not sincere, at least polite, not at all like earlier that morning.
Hermiome felt even more caged looking at that fake smile on a perfect face.
"Let's go, it's time. The wedding will be held in the back gardens. It will be a small ceremony, just enough people smartly put together." Hermione immediately understood what it was all about. There were going to be all the important people and probably some reporters, just enough to make a successful and exagerrated rumour, to show the people how the Law was a main concern for all of them, even the mighty Malfoy.
"Oh, and miss Granger, a little piece of advice. Just go along with everything and life will be much easier." Narcissa didn't know why exactly she said that, but the shuddering miserable girl in front of her made her feel sorry, even for the lower kind. She actually reminded her of her own self back in the day, and she meant it honesty. To live with a powerful man , you have to be quiet and just bear with it all. Merlin knew what awaited the girl with her son, no, with the man her son became.
Hermione walked dazed, as if there was a guillotine waiting for her in the gardens. She heard some thudding sound, like millions of drums were playing some war melody around she went out on the daylight for the first time in days, she didn't feel sharpness of November cold on her skin. She felt nothing. She saw people sitting in front of the sweetly decorated altar and there was her future...husband waiting for her, but she heard no sound. No chirping of the birds, no whispers of the people even though she saw their lips move. She didn't hear the sound of her own steps nor felt the small drop of rain which slowly started to fall while she was finishing her execution walk. No sounds, only that constant thudding. She didn't dare to look up at Malfoy's face when she finally stopped walking and stood beside him, watching the Ministry official say some things which she didn't hear.
Then she felt Malfoy turn in her direction and saw the Ministry official looking expectantly at her, so she mechanically did the same and saw Malfoy's outstretched hand. She took it and in the distance , beside the sound of drums she heard some incantations and her mind foggily registered binding spells and light sparks snaking up their hands. Then they exchanged the rings which the Ministry official provided and when she placed the simple gold ring on his finger, she on reflex looked at her husband. His face was a perfect mask of calmness, its symmetrical features making him look like a statue of a Greek god. But when she looked in his eyes, it seemed to her that they gave her a sign of life. It was maybe a trick of grey light from the clouds above which matched his eyes, but she swore she could see a hing of sorrow somewhere in there.
And the drumming stopped.
She later realized that it was actually her heart trying to jump out of her chest, but his little show of weakness somehow strengthened her up. And with that, the binding ceremony was over. There was no kiss, no cheering, nothing. Everything was serious and dignified.
She didn't even remember the rest of it. There were people congratulating her and trying to conceal their disgust on touching her hand, there was eating, drinking and dancing. And she was just sitting there, not even sure if she was awake or this was just another of her nightmares.
She saw Bellatrix coming to their table and speaking with Malfoy, casting sinister glances at her and she didn't even flinch in her presence. Bellatrix left one of the greatest trauma on her but Hermione was so out of it, she wouldn't have cared if the bitch crucioed her right there on the dance floor. She saw people mingling, she even saw some of her classmates. She saw white flowers, expensive dress robes and jewelry, saw disgusted looks in her direction, and in one moment, might have been a minute or an eternity later, she felt a gentle tug on her cold, clammy hand.
"We should go now." She blinked and realized it was Malfoy talking to her and it was already night. He took her hand gracefully and took her inside, leaving that faceless mass of people to enjoy this abomination of a wedding party. One hall, one hallway, one staircase, another hallway, another staircase. This house was like a labyrinth and her head started to hurt.
Finally she recognized the floor her bedroom was in, but when they went in, the sheets were changed in the simple white linen and there were some papers on the bed table. She then realized it wasn't only her bedroom. It was his too and he slept somewhere else last night. She saw one pair of combat boots beside the bed and it confirmed her suspicion.
Her husband was now behind her and she heard the door clicking shut and locked. There was silence, and it was even scarier than that thudding sound she was listening to all morning. She knew what was coming and she was right then afraid of that more than anything.
She was a virgin. She hadn't done anything with the boys in school and she had hoped to make love to Ron when all the hell of the war was over. But since the war passed two whole years and she barely had the time to heal a little from the loss of her love, let alone find someone new.
She felt her presence occupying her space now, but she wasn't brave enough to turn around and look at him. She just stood there petrified,while the elegant pale hands with long fingers went around her waist and worked on the sash of her wedding dress. Then, she felt those fingers crawling up her chest, trying to unbutton the robe. One by one button was undone, and there was a hand sliding the robe off her shoulders. Were they trembling? She could swear she saw those fingers trembling with the last button, but she was too concentrated on her own fear to acknowledge it.
When she was standing only in that white satin nightdress with the robe now carelessly lying crumpled on the floor, she felt those fingers leisurely undoing her braid, making the flowers fall down like some snowflakes. It should have been Ron.
She felt him inching in, felt something hard poking her backside, felt the hot lips on her neck, it should have been Ron!
And she jerked away in fear.
Realizing her actions, she froze momentarily, not daring to look at him but feeling all too familiar sting in her throat and wetness on her cheeks. She was crying again and she couldn't control herself, especially because she was expecting her punishment now.
Malfoy drew away from her and circled her, and upon seeing her horror-stricken face he sighed. For the first time in a very long time, he felt a slight sting of guilt. He wasn't a rapist and this wouldn't do.
He drew out his wand and Hermione tried to hold her gasp, ready for the torture which was following, without a doubt.
"Give me your hand."
She blinked not understanding, and finally looked at his face. Still empty. Still cold. Somehow tired.
"Your hand, Granger." He repeated with a little more force and she tried to comply, but she was shaking too much. He sighed again and forced himself to remain calm.
"It's the binding spell, Granger. To seal it and make the marriage valid we have to consummate it... or we can use the cheating method. It's the simple binding spell. I need your blood." He explained slowly, keeping his voice under control while cutting through his palm, not even flinching. Hermione understood and finally complied, all the fear dissipating and leaving only shock with this simple act of kindness. She flinched in pain when he cut through her flesh and their bloody hands collided, with a hot surge of magic passing through their bodies. If he was disgusted with her blood he didn't show it, and when it was done he healed his and her palm both and went to the bathroom casually, as if nothing has happened at all.
Hermione was still standing on the same place, trying to comprehend what exactly had happened and still not believing her torture was over. When he came back he looked at her oddly.
"You can go to sleep now." He said dismissively and went to sit at the desk by the window, summoning some documents and reading them with great attention.
Hermione dazedly went to lie down, her brain so full with wondering and dilemmas that it went overdrive and completely shut off. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep, feeling unease in his presence, but not bothering enough to stay awake.