Chapter Two

Necessities

When Draco returned to the cellar, he thought for a second that Hermione was dead. She was completely still. He walked forward, his face completely expressionless and then he saw her fingers twitch slightly. He was surprised to feel relief. He pictured his mother hunched over in agony, clutching her stomach. His face hardened, he narrowed his eyes and walked over to her. His eyes flickered over her body, she was covered in bruises, and handprints on her legs made him wonder what had happened to her before she came to him. Had Weasley done that to her? He didn't seem the type. Maybe the snatchers… They were warned she wasn't to be hurt, she would be his to torture.

"Aguamenti", a stream of water shot from the end of Draco's wand and hit Hermione in the face. Water covered her mouth and nose and she coughed and spluttered for breath; her eyes flicked open but closed again as she struggled for breath. She was drowsy and far too cold, she felt distanced from her body like she was looking down on herself and watching herself slowly die.

Draco produced more water, but it didn't make any difference, she was barely conscious.

"Mudblood, rouse yourself or do I need to Crucio you?" Draco hissed.

Hermione tried to say something, but her mumbling was incoherent. She wasn't going to last much longer. He whipped his wand towards the shackles and they sprang apart leaving her arms free, now unconscious she didn't even notice. Her body shook with the cold, her lips were now fully blue. If he wanted to keep her alive, he would need to move her from this cellar. He needed answers and it seemed that only she could provide them.

Reaching down he grabbed her by her waist, lifting her as if she was a doll. Her skin was like ice. His was the complete opposite, toasty. Hermione shuddered against his chest, revelling in the warmth he was reluctantly providing. Her long gold and brown hair hung over his arm dropping towards the floor. Hermione's survival instincts had kicked in and in her bewildered state, she pressed up against the only heat source that was available. Draco's lip curled in anger, he tried to hold her at arm's length, but she just wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed closer to his chest. Draco, not used to being touched noticed his heart was racing. He felt Hermione's hand on his neck and flinched slightly. "Ron". Draco's ears pricked up. Fucking Weasley. Did this stupid bitch really think he was the insipid Weasley? He bristled with anger. Reaching the end of the dark candle-lit corridor he turned sharply and entered a small bedroom. The bedroom was not more than a box room really. Just a wooden double bed next to a large sash window. A black ornate fireplace on the other side of the room, with a large mirror above and finally a second door which led to a shower room. Moonlight illuminated Hermione's face; Draco had never noticed before how long her eyelashes were. Impossibly long, fanned against her pale face which had the faintest dusting of freckles. Her lips were so full. He had the most disconcerting urge to touch her mouth. She shuddered in his arms, "Ron, please". She called, her voice thick with emotion. Draco flushed with anger and pulling her arms from around his neck he threw her forcefully onto the bed. Hermione's eyes snapped open, her vision was blurred but she could see Draco standing near the bed looking down at her. His expression was furious. Suddenly she remembered where she was. It all came flooding back to her. Draco drew his wand, and she cried out in fear, pushing herself back across the bed, away from him. She lifted her hands up in front of her face defensively and started to sob.

"Malfoy, please… don't." She cowered back.

Draco ignored her, he shot fire into the fireplace and then cast other spells. Locking the window, he also shot a spell at the door. Finally, he cast a spell onto the large mirror, the glass moved like water for a second and then froze back into place. Hermione watched from her side of the bed, wide-eyed and silent.

He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. His hands dropped to his sides and then curled into fists. Part of him wanted to crush her there and then, squeeze her tiny neck until it cracked into two. The problem was seeing a woman scared didn't thrill him. He had never enjoyed that. The others had gotten off on it. The death eaters had broken women, passed them around, and tortured them until there was nothing left. Draco had never been inclined. Hurting women was bad form. Granger was soft, had always been soft, the Veritiserum had proved that she didn't kill his mother. Or had it? Veritiserum could be tricked, and she was the brightest witch of a generation as everyone said. He felt so conflicted.

"Mudblood, I am going to look into how easily Veritiserum can be tricked and I am telling you now"… he leaned over the bed and grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him, "IF you have lied to me, if you did hurt my mother, I will kill you, slowly, painfully in as crueller way as I can imagine and my imagination runs deep".

Hermione trembled; she couldn't speak. Her insides clenched so tightly. Tears sprang from her eyes as she closed them tightly.

Draco let go of her chin and stormed from the room without a backward glance. Slamming the door as hard as he could he stalked along the corridor.

Hermione curled herself up into a ball and sobbed. Images of Ron, Harry and Crookshanks all flitted before her eyes. She would do anything to see them now. She had to get out of there.

Hermione awoke to bright winter sunshine. She sat up, wincing, her body ached terribly. She got out of bed and looked around. Better than the cellar. The view from the window showed expansive lawns, to the left she could see the seashore, and to the right was a dark forest. She tried to lift the window opening but it wouldn't budge. She gathered the glass wouldn't smash either. She knew not to try to leave the room, she could remember Malfoy putting spells in place. She saw the second door and walked over to it, she gingerly touched the chrome handle. It didn't burn her so that was a good start. Opening the door slowly, she saw a small shower room with a toilet and sink. Making her way over to the shower she turned the lever, and steamy hot water streamed from above. Taking off her ripped dress she stepped under the shower and groaned with pleasure. The hot water sprayed her body and soaked her waist-length hair. It was so tangled. There were silver decanters on little glass shelves above her, she reached up and used some of the liquid inside. It smelt like strawberry. She ran her hands over her sore body, working the liquid up into a thick lather. She ran her fingers down over her ribs, they jutted out sharply above her tiny waist and flat stomach. Her hip bones were also prominent, she had lost too much weight. She chanced a glance in the mirror and immediately regretted it. She gasped in shock. She looked awful. She was so pale. Her huge eyes were surrounded by thick dark rings and looked so deep-set because her face was so gaunt. Her neck was covered with purple bruises. She looked half-dead. Like she could just fade away at any moment.

She turned off the shower and got out wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. The towel could easily have wrapped around her twice. She made her way back into her bedroom and saw that a meal had been sent. A small silver tray under a domed cloche sat on the ledge by the window. She was suddenly hit with how hungry she was. She lifted the lid and found a cheese sandwich and a glass of milk. Grabbing the milk, she drank it down in one go. She placed the glass back down and it immediately replenished itself. She drank another. She closed her eyes, and feeling the cool sweet liquid trickle down the inside of her was pure pleasure. Next, she attacked the cheese sandwich, she had never eaten something so fast in her life. She had been fed scraps by the snatchers but it was few and far between. She felt crazed with hunger as soon as she saw the food. The sandwich, like the milk, also regenerated. She ate two and then stopped, she felt pain in her belly, her neglected stomach protested the fast-filling food. Sitting back on the bed she looked around, no clothes. She couldn't put the dress back on it was basically useless and filthy. Nothing else had been provided though. She could wash the dress in the bathroom maybe. She couldn't stay in a towel. Maybe later, she yawned, the hot shower and the big meal had made her sleepy. She lay on the bed and tugged a blanket over herself, her wet hair spread across her pillows.

Draco was in his mother's study. It was one of his favourite rooms. He avoided doing this, going in here. He hadn't been able to face going through her things. It was bright white, and it still smelt of his mother. Amber and musk with a hint of oriental spices. The small room had large arched windows, a cream feather-filled couch and next to the stone fireplace was a beautiful antique writing desk. On the desk were small pewter-framed pictures of him from when he was little. His first time on a broom little Draco zoomed a few feet off the ground giggling and shouting "Whooo", one of him swimming in the great lake, racing his father, another of him fast asleep in the stables with his stallion Vagard and one of his father's hounds. He always looked so happy in the photos, so free. He knew from reading his mother's diaries that there had been problems within his parent's marriage. He had never sensed it growing up though. They had always seemed so complete. Just the three of them. From his mother's diary entries, he knew that his father had in fact slept around. Even two occasions where he brought whores to the manor. The thought of that made him bristle. Maybe that's when his mother started drinking. That was when he was away at Hogwarts, she must have felt so alone. He had been looking through all her diaries and paperwork. He hadn't found much at all. Working his way back through her journals there was mention of a "prophecy", but he had no idea what that referred to. His eyes were red-ringed with exhaustion, he needed to sleep. He was so tightly wound though. He couldn't relax at all. Sleep would evade him as it always did now. He needed to go and let off some steam. He needed to get this frustration out. Pulling a bottle of fire Whiskey from the cupboard of his mother's desk, he left the room.

Draco stood outside the high-rise apartment building. He apparated to the top of the building, landing with a soft crack on the balcony of the apartment. Enchanted fairy lights glittered around the railings of the balcony. The lights were on inside the apartment, but the curtains were drawn. He knocked on the glass doors loudly. Nobody appeared. He waited a couple of minutes and rapped on the glass harder. A pretty heart-shaped face appeared at the opening of the curtains. Large blue eyes blinked and widened. A thin arm snaked through the curtains and opened the french doors.

"Astoria" Draco greeted the woman.

"Draco, what are you doing here? I wasn't expecting your company." The blonde sniffed, glancing nervously behind her.

"Well, here I am, I suggest you get rid of whichever bottom feeder you have in my apartment," Draco responded coolly. Her face flushed red at the insult.

"Draco, please, tonight is the only- " Astoria pleaded.

Draco's eyes flashed with irritation. She sighed; it was pointless. She took a step back to let him in, her slight body was clad in black silk pyjamas, and her long straight brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders. Draco appraised her as she turned and left the room to go and bid goodbye to whomever she was with. She really was a beautiful woman.

He sat on the deep black sofa and poured two glasses of Fire Whiskey. He downed his in one, relishing the burn in his chest. Astoria returned to the lounge, taking a seat at the far end of the couch; her face dropped when she saw the Fire Whiskey.

"Draco, what has happened?" She spoke quietly, as she always did with Draco.

"Nothing, nothing has happened. I just decided to drop in on my dear sweet betrothed." He grimaced and downed a second glass of Fire Whiskey and motioned for her to do the same.

Ignoring his offer of whiskey, she just watched him. Gods he was handsome, his face looked as if the Gods themselves had carved it. His long hair was tied up in a knot, exposing all his black and silver tattoos. Something was clearly on his mind; it was probably his mother. This happened every couple of months. She would hear nothing and then suddenly, he would turn up unannounced and half-drunk. She knew what would come next and this time she couldn't do it.

"Drink your whiskey, you need to catch up." Motioning to her to drink her drink again.

"I can't drink tonight Draco". She replied carefully. Draco looked up in surprise.

"Are you sick?"

"No, I'm not sick ". She answered quietly, looking down at the floor.

Draco watched as she placed her hands over her stomach protectively. Putting his glass down on the mirrored coffee table he leaned over to Astoria.

"Is there something you want to say to me Greengrass?" Draco had that sinking feeling, the feeling he always got when things were about to change. When someone was about to leave him.

"I didn't want to tell you like this, but yes, I am pregnant Draco." Astoria said firmly. Her fingers twitched for her wand, she realised she had left it in the bedroom.

"Pregnant? With who? Not me?" Draco said angrily.

"No, not you, so stop looking so terrified! Someone else. I was obviously going to tell you, I just wanted to wait a little longer." Astoria stared down at her hands, she hated that they were trembling.

Draco didn't say anything, he poured another drink and knocked it back, wincing slightly as the liquor burnt his throat. He felt full of anger, he must have known on some level that this would happen one day, but for some reason, he had never acknowledged it. Their arrangement couldn't last forever. Everything that they had agreed had only ever meant to be short-term. Two years later though it had all become so comfortable, a habit. Now it was all going to change, he would no longer have this. Someone else was leaving.

Astoria sat perched on the edge of the sofa, watching as the different emotions flickered across Draco's beautiful face. He looked so lost, she reached out and touched his shoulder. The second he felt her touch him his eyes snapped up, angry. Angry cold eyes.

"Well, congratulations are in order then." He raised his glass dramatically, "to you and your child, oh and the brats father of course, that is, of course, assuming that you know who the father is Astoria, I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't sure due to the sheer amount of men you see monthly." He threw his head back and swallowed the rest of his drink.

Astoria's eyes stung with tears, but she didn't reply. There would be no point. There was no reasoning with him at the best of times, let alone when he was drunk. Standing up she walked towards the door,

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to get you some bedding for the sofa, I take it you are staying here. I am tired Draco; I am going back to bed." She forced herself to look at him, her hands on her hips.

"Astoria, I come here for one reason and one reason only, and it isn't to fucking sleep. We have an agreement and that" he pointed at Astoria's stomach, "changes nothing, not yet anyway". His eyes glinted maliciously. Astoria's eyes widened in shock.

"You can't be serious, you mean, you mean you still want… I can't believe you still want to sleep with me." She crossed her arms over herself, staring at him with her piercing blue eyes.

"Do you like living here Astoria? Spending my money on yourself and your imbecilic friends? Of course, you do. Our arrangement stands until I decide it's done. Is that clear?" He refilled his glass.

Astoria shook her head softly, she didn't answer. Of course, she did, of course, she loved it. She could buy what she wanted, and go where she wanted. She was safe and financially looked after. When she and Draco were betrothed, she had thought it was because he loved her. Because he wanted a family with her. She soon realised that it wasn't the case. She had been installed in this beautiful apartment and told to do as she likes, she was wheeled out for parties, dinners etc. She was allowed to date whomever she wanted discreetly, and Draco would come once a month for cold detached sex. He was a generous lover, he always made sure she came first, with his mouth or fingers and then he fucked her. There were rules though, no cuddling, no sleeping over in bed and no romantic words or sweet nothings. Astoria was head over heels for him and at first, it had pained her when he would fuck her and then roll over and dress. Leaving minutes later. As the months went on she got used to it. They never spoke about anything that was going on, but she always knew when something was affecting him. When he was stressed or angry he became rough with her, he would use her body all night, denying her sleep or rest. When his mother died he had strangled her mid-sex, it was a hard limit for her. He was drunk, however, drunk and in agony. He released her just in time and when he realised what he had done he held her. It was the only time he ever held her. It was almost worth being strangled just to have felt his arms around her, his hand stroking her throat. When he left she hadn't seen him for three months. The arrangement suited her now. She was used to it. She wondered if he would kick her out now that she was pregnant.

Draco reached over and holding her chin, lifted her head up. Looking down at her, he leaned in closer to her face, she looked up expectantly, puckering her lips for a kiss. Ignoring her waiting mouth Draco breathed three words into her ear, "On your knees."

Astoria shrunk back and then did as she was told, as she always did. She reached up and undid his belt and the buttons on his trousers. Reaching inside his trousers she took his hard length in her delicate hands and moved her hands up and down it, just as he liked. Draco tilted his head back and groaned. Astoria leaned forward and licked the head of his penis. She continued pumping up and down with her hands and began to take him into her mouth. He was so big, she always struggled with this. She noticed he only ever wanted this when he was angry with her. Draco snaked his hand down into her hair and dragged her face forward, forcing her to take him further into her mouth. Tears sprang from her eyes. She hated this side of him. She pumped her hands faster, wanting him to climax so she could go and curl up in bed. She felt him twitch, and she pulled back slightly, he released her hair and she pulled back further licking and sucking his tip. Draco groaned, his huge hands clasping her shoulders as she took him to the edge of his release, sensing he was close she traced her tongue back over the tip and then sucked with all her force, her long nails trailing under his long stiff length. Draco shook and erupted into her mouth, he tried to pull back, but Astoria sucked harder, sucking and swallowing every bit of his offering. He growled. She wanted to give him this, she loved him, and she wanted him to feel her love, as unrequited as it was, she wanted him to feel the force of it. Draco's orgasm lasted for what felt like a lifetime. He shook with the weight of it. Astoria cleaned him thoroughly and then when he stopped shuddering, she pulled back and looked up at him, tears in her eyes. Draco finally opened his eyes, trying to catch his breath, he looked down at her, clasping her face gently for a few seconds and then he disappeared with a loud crack.

Astoria stayed on the floor for a while, sobbing for everything she had lost. She felt a flutter in her stomach. To be honest, she had never truly had Draco, you can't truly tame a dragon and so you can't lose what you never had. Clutching her stomach protectively, she had this. She stood up, went to the bathroom, and washed her face, brushed her teeth and then curled up in her bed.