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Chapter 3

She stayed in bed for the next two days, feeling dazed and nauseous. Her only visitors were two little elves who called her "Young mistress Malfoy" and took care of her with great worry and attention. She didn't see Malfoy at all after that first night. He went out of the room while she was still asleep and didn't come back at all, not that she needed him.
She didn't know what to do with herself. Her constant fear of life in this house was slowly developing into some kind of anxiety and she knew she had to stop her panicking mind one way or another. With all the plans of escaping and suicide officially gone, she encouraged herself to keep living. Keep living, and it will be better. It has to be. She couldn't go back on lively and spunky self with no hope and no protection from anyone, no friends or belongings. She was alone and she had to keep living alone. It was a terrible and sad way of existence, but right now she couldn't think of anything better. All the hope and light was beaten out of her.
So she finally drew up the strength and got up, went to the bathroom and tried to relax. She accepted it all with indifference which was so much unlike her. She washed her body and hair with some expensive scented products and felt at least marginally better. She wrapped a towel around herself and went back to the bedroom, in attempt to search for clean clothes. Only, the bedroom wasn't empty as she expected it would be. Malfoy was there, reading some letter while trying to button up his black robe simultaneously. Pureblood men now looked too much like soldiers, she thought. Even on her wedding she saw some of them wearing this uniform, consisting of black trousers with pockets, black blouse, black robe and black combat boots. Even Malfoy wore one of those uniforms, even though, as she understood, he was their new Voldemort now. She expected at least something different on him, but nothing gave his place in society away.
When he felt her presence he glanced from the letter at her and didn't show any kind of recognition. He just finished reading the letter and threw it in the fireplace, finished buttoning up his robe and hurriedly started looking for something in the drawer on the desk.
"You can go wherever you like in the mansion or outside of it, but not outside of estate. If you wander off alone the spells will probably burn you alive. My mother's in her wing most of the time, so you will have your space. There are only servants and my men around and you should stay away from the latter." He said it all very quckly, behaving as if he was giving instructions to one od his men. Although it did surprise Hermione, she expected some kind of despise and venom from him, not this polite indifference.
She only nodded, not sure if she felt relief or annoyance with his clear dismissing. "Where are you going?" She didn't know why she asked that. She felt flame on her cheeks and when he turned to look at her in annoyance, she felt even more foolish.
"I will be back in two days. That's when Nott's getting married, so prepare for the ceremony and find something presentable to wear. You have everything you need in the closet." He finally found what he was looking for and she could see his face in clear light. He looked even more tired than before and a little... depressed?
He left her there, in his gigantic house, standing alone and furious. She was just a trophy mudblood wife whose only job was to look presentable and bear children. So she would show those pureblood bastards what kind of a lady she was. For today she found some cashmere white sweater and black pants and sent the elves to find for her the strongest product for curly hair there was. She spent the remainder of the morning getting ready. For who, when she was alone? She didn't have the slightest idea, but at least it pumped up her confidence.
With impeccable clothes and hair picked up in a chignon, she went out of the room and started exploring. She saw nothing particularly interesting, just a bunch of unnecessary drawing rooms, guest rooms etc. everything was stylish and expensive and if she had the money they had, she would probably decorate it the same. Everything was simple, yet in the right place. But the gardens left the biggest impression on her. Without the chairs, altar and the red carpet gone, she could finally see all the beauty of the place. It was huge and it was clean, with willows which were yellow and red in the fall. It was so big that she couldn't see the end of it.

When she was back in the house she found some more rooms and even found a place where that drawing room was... except it looked completely different than before. There was not a trace of the room where the worst night in her life happened. The chandelier was gone, the floors, furniture and walls were different. She didn't feel anything standing there, not a single emotion to remind her of her trauma. All in all, if there were any other cirumstances under which she was supposed to live there, she would be satisfied, but this fact made her feel even more lost.
The last room she visited was a huge kitchen. When she stepped in there she thought she'd find only little elves doing their chores, but what she didn't expect were a few young women cleaning or washing the dishes, who looked at her strangely when she got there.
"Are you the new one? The aprons are there, next to the freezer. Quick, get dressed and go peel those onions!" One of them, slightly older thin black haired woman in a clean grey dress and the matching apron barked.
"Sorry, I'm not..." Hermione started talking but the loud bang, followed with a cry of pain interrupted her.
"No, please, don't!" That was coming from the young woman who had an ugly gash on her cheek and horror-stricken face, while the huge man held her hair and tried to rip apart her clothes. All the girls from the kitchen, previously interested with Hermione's arrival, now pretended they didn't hear girl's cries. Bitches.

"Get away from her!" Hermione screamed and the man turned around. She immediately recognised an ugly, sick, disturbingly amused face of Mcnair.
"You want to take her place? No problem, miss." He laughed delightedly and threw the poor girl on the kitchen floor, and started coming dangerously close for Hermione's liking. Maybe she was a little traumatized with all the previous events, but her reflexes couldn't be better. As soon as he laid a hand on her waist, Hermione quickly took a big meat knife from the sink and stabbed him in the thigh. He cried out in pain, momentarily incapacitated, but quickly drew his wand.

"You crazy Mudblood bitch, I will-"

"Take that wand away before you hurt yourself even more, you fool. You're talking to the new mistress of the house." That cold, impeccably measured tone belonged to none other than the actual mistress of the house, Narcissa.

She took out her own wand, swished without a single word, and the blade from the Mcnair's leg flew out fast, making him scream in pain.

"If you ever again even look at her the wrong way, let alone touch her, Draco Malfoy will kill you in a blink and you know it. Now apologize to your mistress and we will forget about this, seeing that she has already punished you." Narcissa said it like she would lecture a stupid child, while taking the invisible peck of dust off her oerfect satin green robe.
"But she's a... she's a Mudblood, Narcissa!" He made a mistake saying that and he knew it as soon the words flew out of his mouth.

"Crucio." he was now crying in pain, rolling on the ground and begging her to stop.

Hermione stood there like a deer in the headlights, not daring to stop the woman from torturing, but not enjoying the scene either... well, actually, she did enjoy it a little.

When she finally stopped, the man was lying on the ground, half-conscious and breathing hard.

"I will now go and notify Draco about your little mishap, Mcnair. I don't know what will happen to you when he comes back home. Jane, help this poor girl. Hermione, come with me." The woman in gray dress quickly moved to help the petrified girl who was watching the whole ordeal without a sound. Hermione, left without a choice, ran to fall in the step with this blonde riddle of a woman.
"You dressed well. Although I would recommend some robes next time, that combination just screams Muggle." Narcissa said pleasantly when Hermione caught up with her, like the incident in the kitchens didn't even happen.

"Are those girls in the kitchen your slaves?" Hermione asked, ignoring Narcissa's try to change the topic.

"Of course not. They work for us and in exchange they get free food and a place to live. It's more than enough for their kind in these times. They can leave whenever they want, although they don't really have a better choice." Narcissa answered, not at all perturbed with sudden questioning.

"So basically, those girls are no better than house elves." Hermione felt colour draining from her face.

"Well yes, although house elves have their magic, and Mudbloods are stripped of their wands since Umbridge and her law."

"I'm one of those Mudbloods too, you know. Why do I get different treatment? Why did you help me?"

"Simply because my son chose you. He has his reasons and because of that you are a Malfoy now. Probably the first Mudblood Malfoy in history, but nevertheless, a Malfoy." Narcissa laughed with mirth. So she was amused with Hermione's turmoil. We'll see about that.
"I don't need anything from him or from you, I can go clean and sleep with the rest of the girls, only to get away from you!" Hermione barked, irritated with the woman's careless attitude.

"Do you miss your magic, Hermione? They broke your wand when they kidnapped you, yes? And with the law in charge there is no way for you to get another one, right?" Narcissa turned to her when they came close to Hermione's bedroom.

Hermione didn't answer. She was looking at the blonde confused, a little surprised with the question.
"Draco knows how to perform excellent wandless magic. I've never seen anyone doing it with such ease." Narcissa said casually, a little too casually, smiled serenely and without another word turned and left Hermione standing speechless in the hallway.

The rest of her time alone and at peace dragged on. She couldn't leave the mansion because of the terrible weather and decided to get to know the house. Some rooms were locked, the other ones were boring and at last she went to visit the kitchens again, the morning when Malfoy was supposed to come back from wherever he'd gone to.
The girls regarded her with respect, even Jane, the one who controlled the work. Hermione felt some kind of shame being with them and talking to them while they looked at her like some saviour, even if she did basically nothing. And the worst part was, if any other girl did the same, she wouldn't get away with it. Stabbing one of the Malfoy's men certainly wasn't encouraged action around here. But, in the short time of her visit, hermione especially took liking to the newest girl, the girl she saved. Her name was Kate and she was three years older than Hermione. She was sorted into Hufflepuff in school and they didn't really know each other. Hermione reckoned, if she was the mistress as Narcissa had put it kindly, she could have her personal servant. She brought Kate to her bedroom, to help her pick the dress for Nott's wedding. Her plan was to wear something Muggle and provoke every single bigoted jerk on the ceremony, just to see what would happen.

"Oh my god, this room is fantastic! Oh, look at the size of the closet! I could live in here!" Kate was thrilled with her new chore.

"Wanna trade?" Hermione snorted, amused with the thrill of the girl.

"Oh cmon, you have the most powerful husband in Britain, he'll always protect you!" "Yeah, well, who's going to protect me from him?" Hermione whispered, feeling melancholy and fear creeping back on her.
Kate blinked and looked at Hermione with empathy. They understood and felt sorry for each other. After all, they were living their own hells.

"Well then, let's find the most beautiful dress in the closet!" Kate cleared her throat and started rummaging the closet in search for muggle dresses, while Hermione stood there uninterested. Later, when Kate couldn't decide between one champagne coloured long dress and the other one, thight green knee-lengthed piece, she made Hermione parade around to compare them.

"Granger, are you ready? We're leaving in 15 minutes!" They heard the noise outside the closet and froze. Malfoy was back.

"Just a moment!" Hermione stayed in the green dress and took some black high-heeled shoes, feeling nervous and already angry with the following event. She suspected that it would be horrible and braced herself. She came out with Kate trailing behind her.

"Are you done? I will- who's that?" There was Malfoy, in his black uniform, standing by the desk and looking impatient. He started to talk sharply and got confused when he finally spotted Kate.

"That's Kate, I brought her from the kitchens to help me get ready."

"Get out, Kate."
"What- you can't just- Malfoy, she helps me-" Hermione started stuttering, shocked with his rudeness.

"I said get out, now!" Malfoy barked and she saw something akin to anger across his usually stony face. Kate ran out with head held low before Hermione had the time to protest.
"Let me be clear. The only living beings who are allowed in this bedroom are the ones in here right now, and the two of my personal elves. Are you stupid? Do you realize that she could do something to you, or find some valuable things I hold in here? She could be easily a spy, Granger." He talked with the dignity only the royal people wore with ease, but she knew he was pissed off. But she wasn't scared. Not anymore.

"Oh please Malfoy, the girl's lost and scared, yesterday she was almost raped! I helped her and today she helped me, I don't see-"

"You got almost killed because of that Mudblood yesterday? And I had to lose one of my men because of betrayal and disrespect only for that girl?" Malfoy asked indignantly. looking at her like she was crazy.

"You're an awful human being, do you know that?! She was only innocent and ready for the slaughter only because your man was bored! I don't give a fuck if you punished him, I will kill anyone who does something similar next time!" Hermione shouted, losing all the patience.

"And I don't give a fuck about your pets, Granger! Don't make the rules in the house where you have very similar position as those Mudbloods!" She started to arrange her locks so her hair would look elegant, but when she heard that she whirled around, took off a heel and threw it at him. He ducked, not believing the stupid bravery of the girl.

"I'm not going to the wedding." She said quietly, took off the other shoe and stood in front of him with clear defiance.

"Excuse me?!"

"I'm not. Going. To the stupid. Wedding. Do you understand, you controlling psycho?" She thought he would hit her. Or curse her, for that matter. He certainly knew the moment when to draw out his wand and look at her like a beast watching the prey.

"I can curse you to do as I like. I can inflict you the pain you never even imagined. I can bind you naked to that bed and rape you when I come back drunk. I can do whatever I want to you because I chose you to be mine. Do you understand? Now be a good Mudblood, put on those shoes and come here, my beloved wifey. Now."

"You wouldn't do that." She answered, but didn't quite believe it herself.

"You don't know that."

"Fine." She obeyed, but only because technically he was right. She was on the unknown territory here, she was, for the first time in her life, the weaker one. And she hated it.
"Are you putting on a robe over that?" He was now watching her Muggle choice of clothing with interest. Pureblood women wore robes most of the time snd he couldn't lie to himself that he rather liked free, revealing muggle clothing. But that wasn't proper for a Pureblood lady and something primal and possessive in him didn't want anyone to see what he had.

"No."

"You're going dressed like that?"

"Yes. Am I a Mudblood or not? I'm the scum, no need to sully traditional clothing of wizards." She hissed and stood beside him, with the head held high and mustered all the grace she had. She felt him fuming with annoyance and for the first time in days she felt powerful. She smirked.

When they apparated in the hall of Nott's mansion, she expected all the eyes to be on them. What she didn't sxpect was the stopping of all chatter and making space for them to pass, as if Malfoy were a king. What didn't surprise her but pleased her immensely were the looks of confusion, even horror on seeing her dress. And what shocked her to her core was a feel of a warm, big hand taking hers and holding it securely. Malfoy took her to the first row and they sat next to Blaze Zabini, his italian Muggleborn girlfriend who looked honestly happy, and the bane of Hermione's school life- Pansy Parkinson. They cast dirty looks ar each other, and Hermione smiled in spite. She knew Pansy had been in love with Draco all of their childhood, and judging by her behavior and pale face, she probably still was. It was evil but Hermione felt calmer knowing that not only Muggleborns were in unhappy position.
The ceremony was boring and pretty much the same as their, only the blushing bride looked ecstatic. After all, she would be the wife of the Minister. Hermione loathed stupid girl's smiling face. When they went to celebrate the new marriage, Hermione and Malfoy were seated at the table with Slytherins from their year in Hogwarts and they all talked to Draco as if she wasn't even there. Except Pansy, of course.

"Congratulations on your new wife, Draco. I see you still didn't teach her how to dress decently." Pansy said in sickly sweet voice.

"Oh, pug-face, we meet again. Why didn't you come to our wedding?" Hermione sang with a deadly smile before Draco even had the chance to say something. Silence fell on the whole table and now all of them listened carefully.

"I didn't adress you, I talked to Draco." Pansy hissed, her face getting some ugly red blotches.

"What, you were too hurt you couldn't marry him?" Hermione said quietly, but with immense satisfaction. She hit the nerve.

Pansy stood up angrily and looked like she was preparing to punch her. The whole hall was now watching their table with interest.
"Wherever you are and whatever you do you will be only a Mudblood bitch who will be spat on and laughed at!" Pansy shouted, forgetting about her etiquette. And on Hermione's great pleasure, Malfoy stood up too.
"That's my wife you're talking to, Parkinson." He said quietly but clearly, looking at her like he was going to curse her.
"But Draco- I- Granger-" Pansy's face was getting worriedly purplish complexion.

"It's Mistress Malfoy for you and anyone else. Don't make me repeat what I... said to Mcnair the other day." Malfoy said it loudly, for everyone to hear. Then he simply sat down and preteneded that nothing happened at all. Pansy cast the last glare at Hermione and left hurriedly. And nobody bothered Hermione after that. She smirked, feeling powerful for the second time in that day.

But alas, her victory didn't last too long. As soon they were back in their bedroom, Malfoy whirled in after her and locked the door behind him.

"What was that? Why did you have to open your big mouth at all?" He yelled, and for the first time she openly saw anger on his face. Bingo.

"She provoked me first!"

"You just needed to sit down and be fucking quiet!"

"Well, I'm a Mudblood, I don't know for better." Hermione bit with dangerously cold edge in her voice.

"You're a Mudblood, not an animal!" He shouted and she could see his mouth turning downwards with disgust. So he finally got into a trap.

"So why do you treat us that way?"

He fell quiet, his eyes widening slightly. She finally won.

"My blood is the same as yours. You saw it. You have it in your blood. So where is the difference, exactly?" Hermione said quietly, not taking eyes off his stormy gray, feeling only a slight fear with his reaction.
"You're not the same as me. You'll never be. You're just abomination who is not quite a Muggle, neither a witch. You're a mistake of the nature. Your parents probably fucked up badly if they were punished with having a freak of a child." he started his monologue, terribly angry with the events of the day and this girl giving herself so much freedom, only because she knew she had his protection. But with the change in her expression, he knew he'd gone too far. He even felt guilt. Really, guilt again?

"Don't you ever, ever again mention my parents." She growled, her slight frame standing tall and proud very close to his. Their noses almost touched and he could see every little hateful spark in her eyes. But then he saw now already familiar sparkle of unshed tears and grief, and he felt the sting of guilt biting into him even harder. He felt dirty, like he kicked a puppy.

She saw a change in his attitude as soon as it occurred and stepped back, allowing the vulnerable side to come out. She was so fucking tired of it all. Her shoulders slumped and she physically just gave up. She took off her shoes and dress staying in the satin undergarments, took off the clip holding her hair together, bowed her head and looked at the floor. She hated her weakness.

"Go to sleep, Granger." He said quietly, lit the fireplace with one wave of the hand and went to sit at the desk, avoiding her hurt look.
And she slept.