Disclaimer: See last chapters.
Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, gulping a little as she shook her head, tears threatening to fall down her pale and bruised face. She looked down at the rags she had been given, realizing that she was not only going to be treated like a slave, but she was going to look like one too – she was a human house elf.
She sighed and held up her hands, looking at the heavily bandaged wrists, wishing she could understand the non-magic rule. She shook off the tears that had managed to find their way down her face, promising herself she wasn't going to cry – she wasn't going to let him win.
"Master is ready for you, now." She nodded and turned away from the bathroom mirror, taking Draco's arm when he extended it for her and walked slowly beside him through the large mansion. Her legs shook beneath her but she closed her eyes, biting down on her lower lip in a small attempt to ignore them and carry on walking, despite her senses going wild and telling her to run. Run. Run. Run. Run.
She inhaled before Draco's hand reached in front of him, pushing open the large door in front of them. Her breath shook when she finally released it and looked at the man in front of her now, the man she would be forced to call 'master'. The death eater who had probably killed a majority of her friends.
She watched as he walked towards her and reached out for her face, stroking her cheek delicately with his rough fingers. She kept her eyes closed, focusing on every breath she took, biting down hard on her lower lip to stop the tears falling down her face.
She opened her eyes when she felt Draco leave her side, and instead the master's calloused hands replaced Draco's on her arm. She looked at him and then at Draco, trying her best to pretend she didn't like either of them touching her – she hated both of them, she had to remember that. But at the same time, she had to remember that Draco was her only escape.
"She's perfect," The older man finally said after a few moments of intense silence, he nodded in approval of Hermione and then smirked. She looked at the greying haired man and sighed, looking down at the floor as she felt more tears bubbling up inside her – don't cry, Hermione. Don't let him win.
"I am very glad you approve, Sir." A man to the right of Hermione replied, bowing his head slightly and then glaring at the girl as she looked over at him, shaking. "You shall bow when you see me from now on." Malfroy looked at her and nodded, waiting for her to do as he asked. Hermione finally got the hint, bowing and glaring at the floor as she did so.
"This is what all mudbloods should be used for, I think we're going to be starting a very good business now that the dark lord is gone, Draco." He looked over at his pale soon, motioning for him to come forward, smiling when he did so. He wrapped his arm around the younger boys shoulders and made him look at Hermione, "Look at what we have started."
He walked over to her once again, stroking her hair gently, "Good girl. My good girl." He shook his head, laughing a little before turning around, motioning for everyone to get out of the room to leave the two of them alone.
He looked at her when everyone left, "If you're a good little mudblood, I might let you live."
"I bet you say that to all your slaves." She spat back at him, having no idea where the courage came from. She raised her head so he could see the hate in her eyes,
"Not all of them, no. You're special. I don't want to hurt you." She shook her head and looked at him, her confidence going as she whispered, "You already have.." She turned her head to look at the blank wall instead, letting the tears fall down her face at last.
"And I am very sorry for that, but I promise that you will enjoy your stay with me."
"Don't count on it." She whipped her head back to look at him again, staring him straight in the eyes and shaking her head, "You disgust me – the war is over! You lost. Your master is gone, and you're nothing compared to him and only the lowest of the low would ever even think about doing what you're doing. You're going to get caught, you're going to go exactly the same way your precious master did." She smirked at the shock on his face, trying to keep calm and stop her body from shaking.
"I can make this a hell for you, or I can be nice." He warned her, shocked when she shrugged, "It's already a hell." He nodded, before raising his hand to slap her hard across the face, sending her flying to the floor, clutching at the burning wound as she looked up at him.
"You will not answer back to me in the future, do you understand, mudblood?" He glared down at her, his eyes widening when she shrugged again, the anger flaring up in his eyes before his hands clamped down onto her hair and drag her across the room. It took every ounce of strength for her not to scream in pain – she knew it was what he wanted.
"On your knees, now!" She nodded, knowing it was in her best interest to obey him right now. But she regretted it the moment he stood behind her, hearing him whip out his wand. She closed her eyes, trying to think of something that could make her happy, biting down to stop herself from screaming, tears falling down her face when he screamed, "Sectumsempra!"
"You will never disobey me again!" She nodded when he screamed the curse again, closing her eyes as tight as she possibly could. She could feel the heavy amount of blood dripping down her back, hitting the floor in big droplets.
"What do you say?" He moved to face her and looked down at her, "Yes." She murmured as he slapped her across the face.
"Yes, what?" He slapped her again, and Hermione finally looked up, making eye contact with the evil man in front of her, not being able to believe such a person should even be allowed a wand. You'd never give a psycho muggle a gun, willingly.
"Yes.. master." She whispered, finally collapsing and letting the darkness engulf her at last.
~ .. ~
"You shouldn't have done that." Draco looked at the girl from his seat across the little cell and shook his head, standing up to walk over to where she was laying. She took time to open her eyes, trying to focus on his face and then shaking her head, tears dripping down her face and falling onto the hard mattress she had just woken up on.
"You have to make this easier for me, you have to work with me here, Hermione." He whispered, sighing.
"I don't know what came over me.."
"I know.. it's okay, just.. make sure it doesn't happen again – I need to get you out of here but I will never get the chance to do so if you carry on acting like you did last night." She nodded, apologizing as he shook his head and smiled, "It's okay, just go back to sleep, you need it." She nodded, biting down on her lower lip, closing her eyes once more as she tried to think past the stinging pain that kept shooting through her body.
Draco watched her, shaking his head, he wanted to help her and he needed to help her. He looked back at the door and sighed, she was the youngest – and possibly the most famous – slave that his father had asked for, she had so much to live for and he needed to make sure she would make it out of this hell alive. Even if it killed him.
He looked down at the floor as a lone tear fell down his face, he had seen so many people die and he couldn't leave, he felt a bond to these girls that his father – the master – longed to keep all the time. His own mother had been one so long ago, she was lucky, she made it and she was okay. Draco remembered wishing this desire his father felt would end after the war, but even though the war was over, the fight wasn't.
The thing that hurt the most, though – he had vowed to help every single one of them, and every single one of them had been murdered right in front of him. He had failed all of them, he saw the hate in their eyes for the last time before they dropped down to the ground. He didn't want it to happen to Hermione Granger – the brightest witch of their generation – he didn't want to see the blame or hate in her eyes, he wasn't going to fail her.
He shook his head and stood up, opening the door to the cell she'd have to stay in for so long, he could only hope she would take his advice and keep her head down. The longer she lasted, the more chance he would have to be alone with her. He could save her.
~ .. ~
The older man looked down at his hands, shaking his head – he had managed to get some of her dirty blood on him. He wrinkled his noise in disgust, going into his bathroom to wash his hands. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and smirked – he knew that in no time, Hermione Granger would be under his control and she would truly be his.
He knew this would be true from the moment he first set eyes on her, Harry Potter's best friend, the brightest witch of her age and now she was he is. From that very first time he had known she was the one.
He had her know and there was nothing anybody could do to stop him from doing everything he had dreamed of doing to the seventeen year old girl. He wondered what she was going to be like, he had never had someone so young – someone of school age – in his cells before. He had never picked anyone to be at his beck and call that was under the age of twenty.
He sighed and laughed a little, she would be perfect. He knew that she would his girl forever know, even after death they remained his. His own personal collection of slaves, not even his own master thought of a plan so good. His collection of perfect, beautiful mudbloods.
And he was going to make sure he had as much fun with her as possible, before her time came.