'Wake up, Mudblood.'

Hermione gasped as she woke up, shocked awake by a mixture of Lucius Malfoy's harsh voice and the glass of cold water he had just thrown over her. She jumped as the water hit her, crying out as her body complained bitterly about her sharp movement. Moaning more quietly she tried to sit up, forcing herself to ignore the sharp spikes of pain that shot through her with every movement. At least she could move, which was a definite improvement over the previous day.

'You're looking better,' Lucius said, 'at least better than you were after Bella finished with you.' He gave her a nasty smile. 'Did you sleep well, Mudblood?'

Hermione rubbed her eyes, then looked balefully at Lucius. 'I've had better,' she said, her voice rough and scratchy.

She watched as Lucius filled the glass with water from a jug he was holding. She waited tensely for him to throw it at her again but instead, he bent down and offered her the glass. Slowly, she reached out to take it, suddenly desperate for a drink to soothe her parched mouth. Her hand was still shaking and she had to concentrate really hard in order to grip the glass.

For a moment she thought Lucius would pull it away — another way of torturing her — but he didn't; and although her shaking hand caused a lot of the water to spill she did finally manage to get the glass to her lips. The cool water caused her to moan, this time with pleasure, as it trickled into her mouth.

'I did intend to question you about the Order of the Phoenix,' Lucius said once she had finished drinking. 'But having been through that rather interesting handbag of yours, I realised there's no point. You obviously haven't had any contact with them for some time. So tell me: what have you been doing for the last few months, Mudblood?'

Hermione gazed at Lucius as she tried to work out what to say. She didn't want to give away anything that might help him. She tried to remember whether the bag had contained anything incriminating.

'We were camping,' she said unhappily. 'We've been camping ever since we left the Ministry of Magic. We've been moving around the country.'

'And why were you doing that?' Lucius asked, looking faintly disgusted. He tried to imagine what it would be like to spend several months under canvas but couldn't even begin to think about it. 'What were you looking for?'

'We didn't have any choice,' Hermione said bitterly. 'We couldn't go back to Grim — where we were staying, not after Yaxley grabbed hold of me.'

'Ah yes, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place,' Lucius said smugly, 'ancestral home of the Blacks and headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix; if I'm not mistaken.'

'I doubt it is any longer,' Hermione said.

'Well, no, of course not,' Lucius conceded. 'So what were you looking for? What made you go to the Ministry of Magic?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I don't know why we went there. Harry thought perhaps we could find out what was going on.'

'Liar!' Lucius said coldly. 'You went to the Ministry for a reason. You stole a necklace from Dolores Umbridge. What happened to the necklace, Mudblood?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I don't know what happened to it. I think it was in the tent when the Snatchers grabbed us. I can't remember.' She held her hands to her head as if in pain. 'I'm sure it was in the tent.'

'And why were you carrying the painting?' Lucius asked curiously.

'What?' Hermione was confused for a moment then remembered Phineas Nigellus Black.

'The painting of Phineas Black. You had it in your handbag.'

Hermione sighed. 'The painting was spying on us when we were at Grimmauld Place. The headmaster was a Slytherin and we didn't want him finding out what we were planning so I put it in my handbag. I forgot to take it out again.'

'Where were you going to go if you hadn't been caught by the Snatchers?'

'I don't know. To be honest we were just moving around, trying not to stay too long in any one area so we wouldn't get caught. There wasn't really a plan.'

'I don't believe you, Mudblood. Potter was told by Dumbledore to do something and you were with him, following his orders. What were you doing?'

'I don't know what we were doing,' Hermione said with a sigh, sounding petulant now. 'Harry didn't tell us. We were just there to keep him company and help him when he asked.'

'You expect me to believe that?' Lucius asked in disbelief.

Hermione shrugged. 'It's true. We only knew that Dumbledore had given Harry a quest; he didn't tell us what it was.' She glared at Lucius. 'In case we got caught and tortured, I suppose.'

'You're obviously determined not to tell me anything,' Lucius said his voice steely.

'I can't tell you anything,' Hermione said adamantly. 'I don't know anything.'

Lucius bent down so his face was only a few centimetres away from Hermione's. 'Perhaps I should give you back to Bellatrix,' he said. He felt a ripple of pleasure run through him at the look of terror that crossed Hermione's face when he spoke.

Hermione shook her head. 'Please don't,' she begged, the tears coming to her eyes as she thought of the pain she had suffered, the pain she still hadn't quite recovered from.

Lucius considered for a moment. 'No, actually I've got a better idea.' He grinned wickedly. 'I know how well you and Draco have always got on. Perhaps I should give you to him instead.'

'Give me to Draco,' Hermione repeated. 'What do you mean, give me to Draco?'

Lucius bent closer, his nose almost touching hers. 'What do you think I mean?' he asked coldly. 'I will give my son permission to do absolutely anything he wants with you.' He moved back, even more pleased with the look of disgust and fear on Hermione's face. 'Do you think he'd like that, Mudblood? I think so, don't you?'

Hermione tried to stop the tears that had been trying to break out since Lucius had threatened her with Bellatrix. The idea of being tortured by that mad bitch again was terrifying but it was nothing compared to what Draco could do to her. Bellatrix was attacking her purely for being Muggle-born and would use the Cruciatus Curse on her repeatedly until Hermione's mind cracked and she no longer cared what happened to her. But with Draco it was personal — almost seven years of personal — and given carte blanche, what torture wouldn't he proceed to use against his greatest enemy? Madness might be the end result but he could cause her a considerable amount of pain without going anywhere near breaking her mind.

'Oh dear, not so keen on that idea?' Lucius asked in mock sympathy. Then he grinned again. 'I'm actually looking forward to seeing what my son comes up with. Seven years of humiliation by a filthy little Mudblood will have given him plenty of ideas, I've no doubt.'

Hermione didn't say anything; there was nothing to say. There was no point in pleading. It would afford Lucius amusement but it wouldn't stop him from handing her over to Draco. All she could do now was hope Draco would kill her sooner rather than later. She no longer believed she had a chance of being rescued by Harry and Ron. Even if they somehow managed to escape from the cellar they were being held in, they would never be able to find her buried away somewhere in the midst of Malfoy Manor.

'And once Draco's finished with you, assuming there's anything left of you by then, you can take your place at the Dark revel.' Lucius leant close again. 'And then we won't even have to worry about disposing of your body.'

He stood up.

'I'll be back for you shortly, Mudblood. Feel free to consider what treats my son might have in store for you.'

Lucius strode out of the room, closing the door as he went. Hermione could feel herself shaking again but this time with fear, not with pain. Was there any chance she would be able to talk to Draco, to convince him not to hurt or maybe even kill her? She knew there wasn't. Their hatred for each other ran too deep for that sort of ending.

By the time Lucius returned, bringing Draco with him, Hermione was quiet — still terrified about what was going to happen, but resigned now to what was to follow.

'She's yours, Draco,' Lucius said spitefully. His face crinkled into a smile as he looked at the expression of horror that crossed Hermione's face again at his words. He loved the feeling he got when he saw that look. 'You have my full permission to do whatever you wish with her,' he added dismissively.

Draco walked swiftly to the makeshift bed where Hermione was sitting. Taking no notice of the bruises he had caused the previous day with his rough treatment of her, he grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. Hermione whimpered in pain but was in no state to fight back, especially once Draco took a handful of her bushy hair, too. Growling at her quietly, he dragged her from the room, heading, Lucius supposed, to his own bedroom.

Upstairs, Draco dragged Hermione across the room towards his bed, a little surprised at how easy she had been to manipulate. He had expected to have to curse her in some way to stop her fighting him. She must have been more badly injured than he had realised by the curses his aunt had cast. Good. That would make her easier to control.

'Not so smug now, are you, Mudblood?' he hissed nastily, his face only inches from hers as he pushed her down beneath him on the bed, straddling her body to ensure that she was unable to move.

'I never was the smug one,' Hermione whispered, gasping as Draco slapped her hard round the face at her comment.

Draco's hand wrapped around her throat. 'You were always smug, Granger; always thinking you were so much better at everything than me.'

His hand tightened a little, causing Hermione to grapple with it automatically in an effort to stop him from strangling her. She shook her head frantically. Draco watched her for a moment before releasing his grip. It wouldn't do to kill her, not after he had waited so long for this moment.

'Inferiority complex,' Hermione croaked.

'I'm not the one who's inferior,' Draco screamed furiously, his fingers squeezing once more at Hermione's throat. 'My blood is pure. It's you that's inferior, Mudblood!'

Again he released her, realising that in his anger he had nearly lost control.

'Just kill me and have done with it,' Hermione whispered with difficulty.

Draco could see the fear in her face. It would take him no more than a minute to grant her request, but that wasn't in his plans. Torture — possibly; pain — certainly; but not death. He wasn't having the stain of her death on his conscience. That could be provided by some other faceless Death Eater once Draco had finished having his fun.

He removed his hand from her throat completely to stop temptation and sat back, looking intently at her as her own hand reached up to rub at her sore neck. She gave a series of small coughs as if trying to clear her throat.

'Oh yes, I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you? But why would I kill you, Mudblood?' he asked maliciously, the smirk returning to his lips. He had drawn his wand now and was pointing it directly at Hermione's face. 'When you can give me so much more than that?'

Hermione lay where he had pushed her, blinking up unhappily at him, still rubbing at her throat.

'Shall I curse you? How much more do you think you can stand, Mudblood? How close to madness did Aunt Bella bring you?' He leant forward again, not touching Hermione but with his face once again only an inch or so away from hers. 'Shall we find out?' he whispered maliciously.

His smile grew at the small whimper that escaped Hermione's lips. She was terrified that he was going to use the Cruciatus Curse on her. He sat back again, enjoying for a moment the ripple of pleasure that ran through him at the idea of the terror he was causing.

Should he do it? Should he give her a short blast of the curse, just enough to give her a sharp burst of pain and make her realise that he was serious, that he could do whatever he wanted and she could do nothing to stop him?

But how close hadAunt Bella come to driving the Mudblood mad? What if he pushed her over the edge? Mad, she would be no fun at all; she wouldn't realise what he was doing to her. No, better to leave that for the time being. That could always come later, once he had finished with the other torments.

His eyes grazed over Hermione's scared face and down over her body, feeling her soft beneath him where he sat astride her. His thoughts turned to her friends currently trapped in the manor's cellar. How would they react to seeing Granger now?

He could imagine the redhead, Weasley, always so protective of the Mudblood, squaring up to fight him — even though he was no real match. Pure-blood he may be, but his blood-traitor parents had left him woefully unprepared for real life. As for Potter. . . .

Draco was pulled away from the thought by movement from Hermione, who was wriggling in an attempt to get out of his grasp. He rather enjoyed the sensation of their bodies rubbing together. He smiled again. What a shame Weasley wouldn't be here to see him get what Draco was sure the redhead had always wanted — Granger's body.

'Why are you struggling?' he asked the unhappy girl. 'You know you can't get away. And you're not going to trick me into killing you.' His hand brushed over her filthy t-shirt. 'Time to remove some clothes, I think.'

Hermione looked at Draco in horror. 'No, please don't, Malfoy,' she begged quietly.

Draco laughed loudly. 'Why on earth do you think you're here, Granger?' he asked as his hand pulled at the material of her top, drawing it up to reveal her bra and the soft, fleshy orbs encased within. 'I distinctly remember my father saying I could do anything I wanted with you.'

Hermione gave a small squeak and closed her eyes.

'You haven't got a bad body, actually,' Draco mused approvingly as he finished removing the t-shirt, his eyes still on Hermione's breasts. 'Bigger tits than Pansy; more curves, too.'

He moved against her once more, laying on top of her, his mouth by her ear as his hands swept her bushy mop of hair back from her face.

'Quite pretty, in fact,' he whispered, his mouth tickling at her ear, 'without all that awful hair in the way.'

He rubbed against her again as he felt Hermione shiver beneath him. He was definitely becoming aroused, although he wasn't sure whether it was the idea of Hermione naked or the fact that she was so clearly terrified of him touching her. Perhaps it was a mixture of the two.

'Doesn't this feel good?' he asked as he rubbed against her again. Hermione made no sound. Well, he hadn't expected a response. 'Better without all the clothes, though, I think.'

He pulled back into a sitting position again, resting on his heels as he pointed his wand once more at a very upset-looking Hermione. With a flick of his wand and a muttered spell, her clothes were gone. A second later his were, too.

'I don't know what your problem is,' he said as he watched Hermione try desperately to cover her breasts with her arm. After all, I'm sure you've shared your charms with the blood-traitor . . . or that idiot, Potter.'

'No,' Hermione said unhappily, shaking her head. 'We've never—' She was trying to sit up now, still trying to cover her body, but Draco was still sitting on her and stopping her from succeeding.

'Well, what about Krum?' Draco asked, looking at Hermione carefully.

'What about him?' Hermione frowned.

'Oh, come on, Granger, he was on the Bulgarian National Quidditch team. Are you telling me you and he didn't get it on?'

'Of course we didn't,' Hermione said irritably. 'I was only fifteen.'

Draco snorted. 'So? What's that got to do with anything? Pansy and I were at it like rabbits by then. I don't believe you went out with him and didn't do anything.' His gaze was salacious and his voice matched. 'Come on. Tell me what the two of you did. Did you give him a blowjob? Did he lick you in return? Did he get his fingers in there?'

'No!' Hermione shouted, eyeing Draco with disgust. 'I told you, we did nothing. I only saw him a couple of times after the Ball — and those were in the Library. We didn't do anything.' She was still attempting to cover herself and sit up.

Draco looked at her with interest. 'Nothing at all? So what about those idiots you call friends?'

Hermione didn't answer, just shook her head in response. Draco leant in close, pushing Hermione back down onto the bed.

'So what you're telling me,' he said softly, the triumph evident in his voice, 'is that you're still a virgin.'

Hermione, who had squeezed her eyes tightly shut again at Draco's closeness, gave the smallest of nods. Draco's hand brushed down over her arm, pulling it away from her breasts.

'Let me see you,' he whispered. 'Show yourself to me, Granger.'

Hermione shook her head once again but her arm stayed where it was and she shivered as Draco's hand brushed over her left breast, squeezing as it went.

'A virgin,' Draco gave a snorting laugh. 'Well, I have to admit I didn't expect that. Still, lucky me, eh?'

His hand was now on the other breast, squeezing that, too, as he watched Hermione's face. Her eyes were still screwed up tight and she looked extremely unhappy. His hand drifted back to her throat and for a moment she tensed, expecting him to throttle her again no doubt, but instead, he stroked her neck gently before his hand moved again, now brushing at her cheek.

'I'm going to put down my wand,' he told her quietly. 'I don't want to hurt you.'

'No?' Hermione's quiet voice sounded disbelieving as she asked the question.

'No. I did think about giving you pain, but I think pleasure will do the job so much better,' Draco told her musingly. He saw an expression of disgust flit across Hermione's face as he said that and he smiled as he moved away briefly to put his wand on the bedside cabinet. 'Don't do anything stupid,' he warned, but Hermione hadn't moved. She lay just as he had placed her with her eyes still closed, although her lips were moving as she spoke rapidly but quietly.

Draco moved back again, his ear now by her mouth as he listened to her litany, the same words repeated again and again. 'Please don't hurt me . . . please don't hurt me . . . .'

'I'm not going to hurt you, Granger,' he whispered in Hermione's ear, making her jump. 'Now open your eyes and look at me.'

For a moment Hermione ignored his request and Draco could feel his anger rising, that even now she was defying him. But then her eyes opened, the fear and pain still reflected in them, and she stared into his. He reached out his hand once more to stroke her face, trying to ignore the way she flinched as he touched her.

'Everything is going to be fine, Mudblood, just as long as you do exactly what I say,' Draco told her, not looking away from her for a moment.

'You're going to rape me,' Hermione replied quietly.

'No, I'm not,' Draco said, a little surprised at his own words. 'Interestingly, I seem to be constantly reassessing my opinion of you . . . and of what I'm going to do to you, Granger.'

'If that's true, then let me go — please, Draco,' Hermione said. She wriggled again.

Draco laughed. 'I said I'm not going to rape you. I didn't say I wasn't going to fuck you. I still have every intention of doing that. It's just that you'll want me to do it.'

Hermione shook her head. 'Never,' she told him unhappily. 'Nothing could ever make me want you.'

'Hmmm,' Draco looked at Hermione appraisingly, trying to bite down the anger that had risen once again at her continued rejection of him. 'Then we're going to have a serious problem that needs sorting out. Because I am going to fuck you, and I can assure you that you will definitely want me to do it.'