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Chapter Two. "Hate" is Such a Strong Word

Hermione Granger

"It'll be great, Hermione! You'll see. They call it, 'ponfoo'!"

"It's called 'fondue' Ronald! And I don't like the idea of you cooking at all!" I'd said, but oh no…Ron had to prove me wrong. And so I ended up cleaning cheese off the walls, counters, and floors. I began to wonder where my slave was.

And then, much to my surprise, it was barely two days after I sent my reply to Minicent that I received a knock on my door. I was busy at the moment, scraping melted-on gunk out of the pan that Ron had used for his little science experiment. But I felt so excited at the thought that my special 'gift' had arrived that I dropped everything immediately to run to the door.

I threw it open gleefully, and what I saw there sent an immediate smile to my face…though, if I were any kind of decent person, it shouldn't have.

Draco Malfoy stood tall and proud beside whom I could only guess was Raculia Minicent. Malfoy was gangly and frightfully thin; he was even more pale that usual, and where heavy, metal shackles curled around his wrists, there were many painful-looking bruises and scars on his skin. Dark circles rimmed his piercing eyes and his usually well-kempt hair was a matted mass of filthy tangles. His clothes, a pair of torn, ragged gray pants and a gray t-shirt, hung off him as though they were three sizes too large. I felt ecstatic at seeing him in such a miserable state, but when I saw the unbroken pride in his eyes and the stubbornness still in his face, my immense happiness began to fade away.

"Miss Granger?" a mousy, tiny voice asked. I'd barely taken any notice of the short, squat man beside Malfoy. I acknowledged the shorter man with a smile and nod; Malfoy turned away, looking as though he was about to vomit.

"I am Hermione Granger…and you are?"

"I am Raculia Minicent, Minister of Magic, at your service! As you are aware, I am sure, I sent you a letter a few days ago concerning your newfound…for lack of a better word, possession of this…man," Minicent said uneasily, motioning to Malfoy beside him. "I'll…just need you to sign this form stating that you did receive the…er…package in question and that it is the person whom I claim him to be."

"Oh…that's definitely Malfoy. Same pathetic, smug ass," I said, bending down, conjuring a pen, and scribbling my name down on the dotted line.

"Yeah, and let me catch you looking at my ass once, Granger," Malfoy threatened. Before I could reply, Minicent jerked a small, white box out of his pocket and pressed the round, red button on top of it. Malfoy immediately began to tear at his neck in pain. He screamed loudly, and before whatever was causing him pain stopped, he'd torn a new, long scratch at his pale, thin neck.

"Oh, please tell me I get one of those!" I gasped hopefully, open-mouthed.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you most certainly do." Minicent dropped the white box into my outstretched hand. "Is everything to your liking, miss?" Minicent asked, tucking the form I'd signed into his robes.

"Let me think…" I began. Just to test it out, I pressed the little red button once more. Malfoy screamed again and tore at his neck, obviously in agonizing pain. Finally, he straightened up, blood dripping down his neck. He narrowed his piercing black eyes at me, a look of pure hatred on his pathetic face. I grinned. "Oh yes. It's all very, very much to my liking, I assure you."

"Good, then! If you have any questions, you can find me in my office any time from Monday to Friday! Good day to you, miss." Minicent said before turning on his heel and evaporating into thin air. I turned my attentions immediately back to Malfoy.

"You haven't got your wand on you, do you?" I asked, a smile still lingering on my face.

Malfoy looked at me unpleasantly and lifted up both arms, still clasped together at the wrists with the shackles.

"Frisk me," he said, smiling sarcastically at me.

"I'd…rather not, Malfoy. Crabs jump ten feet, you know." I smiled wider and turned, opening the door wider so he could come inside. "Come on in, Malfoy! You need to get out of those clothes…" I said, realizing how dirty and disgusting he was.

"Easy, Granger. I just made it in the door. Try to hold off jumping my bones for five minutes," he said evilly. I closed the door behind him and watched as he took in the sight of my home…or at least, the last home of my parents, people he'd killed. "Mm. Just as I remember it."

I lost myself. My hand and arm flew up long before I had the chance to stop them, and my palm collided loudly with Malfoy's cheek. He grunted with shock more than pain; he opened his mouth to readjust his jaw.

"Careful, Mudblood. We wouldn't want you to get hurt now, would we?"

"While you are in my house, you will address me as Miss Granger. Or Master, whichever you prefer. And you will not speak…period…to Harry or Ron. If you do, I won't think twice about cutting out your lying tongue," I said as hostilely as possible. It sounded very convincing, even to me. So convincing, as a matter of fact, that Malfoy also lost his head. He turned on me and raised his shackles above me, preparing to slam them down on top of me. But before his fists could collide with my body, a loud thump and a flash of white light sent him spiraling across the room.

He screamed as his body made painful contact with the wall. As his body fell from the wall to the ground, I could see the cracks the collision had left there. It didn't take him long before he stood up, though his lip was bleeding and he limped as he walked back to me.

"But, as I can see, I really don't have anything to fear. You can't even touch me, Malfoy, much less hurt me. Just how much do you think your threats mean now?" I demanded, rising up on my tiptoes, my face inches from his own. He looked down at me, his eyes searching through mine. Our noses almost touched, and I could feel his breath on my face. Suddenly, he brought his hands up to my face, and I waited patiently for the blinding light and the loud crash that was sure to come.

But it didn't. I felt Malfoy's surprisingly warm hands on my jaw, pulling my face up to his own. And then, before I even though to scream, his lips were on mine. He opened his mouth and breathed into me; he was, if I was being fair, a very good kisser. I tried not to close my eyes and get swept away in the moment; I hadn't been kissed like that in the entirety of my life. But my eyelids began to close slowly, and then they finally fluttered shut. I opened my own mouth and felt Malfoy's tongue slipping inside. He tasted spectacular.

Then, much too soon, he pulled away from me. As his entrancing lips left mine, I began to realize what I had done. I'd just kissed Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, murderer of my parents and friends. And I'd liked it. I looked up to tell him off, but I immediately thought better of it when I saw the disgusted way he was wiping his mouth.

"You're wrong, Miss Granger. I can touch you all I want…" he said, coming nearer to me, his breath on me again. His fingers stuck a few inches down inside my pants and pulled me flush against him. "…just not in anger."

Once again, he pushed me away, disgust on his face, leaving me breathless and concerned for my own well being. If I was enjoying any part of this, something was not right.

"So…where's my room?" he asked, startling me out of my daydream. I blinked and mumbled something about him taking a bath first. "What was that? I didn't quite catch that," he said, a smirk on his face.

"I said, you'll have to take a bath first, because you smell. And you will put on new clothes before you start work." I crossed the room and entered the kitchen, where I indicated the cheesy mess stuck to every surface of the room. Malfoy saw it and sneered.

"What the hell were you doing? Oh wait…I get it. You and the Weasel got it on in the kitchen, and he just couldn't wait long enough to stuff his face! Makes for a good mess. Maybe you should have said something. Or maybe you couldn't, because your mouth was so full of his—"

"That's QUITE enough, Malfoy. Now get upstairs, take off your clothes, get into the shower, and take a damn bath before I hex you!" I ordered, pointing up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom. He looked somewhat impressed. Turning away, he stalked up the steps, very slowly, just to annoy me. Then, when he'd reached the top of the stairs, he turned and looked at me.

"You know, you could join me…I've been without a woman's company ever since sixth year."

Now, knowing the 'bad boy' player that Malfoy was, my younger self would have laughed hysterically at his confession of being without sex for six years…but something then, when I looked at him, completely convinced me that he was telling the truth. But that didn't change the fact that I valued my life too much to get an STD and die.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" I screamed, pointing once again to the bathroom. Malfoy shrugged, looking as though he didn't mind at all, and began walking down the upstairs hallway.

"Not like I fucking wanted your company, Mudblood…" he mumbled as he disappeared around the corner.

I was so incredibly angry that I kicked the very first thing I saw, which just happened to be a very large, very hard storage cabinet.

"Bloody hell!" I screamed, clutching my foot in pain.

"What's all this racket? First I hear screaming, then more screaming, then the hot water in my bathroom just cuts off--" Ron began, but I interrupted him.

"That's because Malfoy's here…and he's taking a shower in the other bathroom," I said through gritted teeth. Ron's eyes grew wide.

"You mean…as in…Malfoy? The Draco Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Oh, bugger off and ask him for his autograph, Ronald!" I shouted, limping to the sofa in the living room.

I suppose he would have, too, if he hadn't seen the fresh oranges just waiting for him on the one clean spot of the kitchen counter. And as I prepared to give Harry another one of his pills, I began to think of all the wonderfully horrendous things I would make Malfoy do as my slave. Several lovely possibilities crossed my mind, but the best I would save for last…or, at least…until dinnertime.

End of Chapter

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