Draco Malfoy had a scowl on his face.

What was he doing down here? Again?

He was looking for Granger. He didn't know why but the slaves quarters had been calling to him all day and pulling him there like a magnetic force.

So here he was, looking at each of the slaves individually.

She isn't here, he thought feeling no emotions at all. He felt sort of empty. She was disrespectful to father and he killed her.

"You," Draco looked at a male slave who looked vaguely familiar. "You were in Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir." He answered. "Hufflepuff. My name's Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"I didn't ask for your name. I don't care. Where's Granger?" he said angrily.

The stupid Hufflepuff looked at him confused, "Who?"

"Granger!" He shouted. Was he deaf or stupid or both?

Everyone in the huge hall turned their attention to them after Draco's sudden outburst. Why were slaves so annoying? It was none of their business.

He scowled and caught hold of the scruff of the Hufflepuff's collar. "Where -?"

He got caught off as he heard a calm voice say, "Can I help you with anything, sir?"

Turning, he saw Granger, looking confused and faintly amused. He let the Hufflepuff go, though he wanted to kill him. He felt frustrated and angry though he didn't know why.

"Where were you?" he shouted at her.

"Working," she returned, her calmness was a sharp contrast to his mood. "It's generally what slaves do."

He looked at her. She was wearing different clothes now. Slaves clothes she'd obviously been forced to wear. She was covered in mud, so she had probably been working in the gardens. Her face was streaked with mud as well but he could see she was very bruised around her eyes.

He didn't say anything and watched as her amusement faded away to just confusion.

He was terribly confused as well.

"Can I help you with anything?" she repeated.

He wanted to break something. Maybe the wall. Maybe her neck. Maybe that stupid Hufflepuff's thick skull.

He didn't even know why he was so angry.

Slowly, she looked him up and down as well. Probably realising now he was so furious from his expression and stance, she swallowed and her expression changed from confusion to understanding and dread. "You want to punish me again," she said it flatly, not a question but a statement.

He shook his head and suddenly swept past her. He needed to get out of there. All those mudbloods looking at him was making him uncomfortable.

Inches from the exit, he shouted back, "If I ask for you," He paused. "Be there, Granger. I don't wait for anybody!"

Then he slammed the door and walk quickly to his room.

What was wrong with him?

Why the hell was he so angry?

He flopped on his bed and thought.

He had been worried about Granger. That was why he was so mad.

Oh god, I was worried about a Mudblood. And not just a mudblood but that Mudblood!

And why was he worried about her? Why did he fell so damn worried that his father had killed her?

The truth hung in front of him and he thought the one thing he thought he'd never think.

Oh shit, I'm falling for bloody Granger!!!

*

"Um…" Justin said, "What just happened?"

Hermione shrugged, though the question was heavy on her mind at that moment. Every eye was on Hermione so she said loudly, "Malfoy's weird. I just try and keep out of his way."

Blushing slightly, as everyone remained quiet, she saw a pile of dishes and started cleaning.

Waiting impatiently for a few seconds, Hermione smiled as quiet whispers and work began again.

Justin approached her again, "Hermione, I know I don't know you very well, but you had really better watch yourself. Malfoy may not have been much of a threat back at Hogwarts but here, he has power over you. Muggleborns aren't really protected much anymore."

Hermione nodded, "I know."

"He has power over you. Apparently he doesn't like you a hell of a lot. He could kill you."

"Yeah," Hermione said, giving Justin her proper attention at last. "But he didn't kill me. That's what's confusing me."

She shrugged after a minute. "I'm just going to not let it bother me. I think I'll go Que. up for a shower. That should take a while."

*

Hermione looked at herself in a dish she had just washed. After removing the dark that had covered her like a blanket, she could clearly see the bruises which remained from her little encounter with Malfoy's father.

Flinching, she tried to push the memory away but it erupted like a stubborn volcano, and she relished in the pain it brought.

//FLASH BACK//

It had been going okay in the gardens and then Lucius came. He brought a cloud of darkness with him and Hermione couldn't push away her unprovoked fear that overcame her. She didn't know why she was scared but she was.

He came, wearing a Malfoy smirk. He wasn't very old and was quite a good looking man except for his expression and his obvious attitude.

He strolled along casually and commented on everyone's work with an extremely critical eye. Every slave just mumbled, "I'm sorry, sir," or "I will try better, sir."

Every slave, except one.

Hermione had just followed suit, although she had known it was wrong because her work was fine. But she wasn't stupid enough to annoy Malfoy's father. For he was only worse than his son.

And then some stupid third year had mumbled, after receiving his insult, "I'd like to see if you could do any better."

Now, it was obviously a mumble but the third year from Hogwarts had mumbled it a tad bit louder than he had meant and Hermione had heard it, along with Malfoy's father.

And then Lucius had murmured the infamous curse that Hermione knew so well of, and the third year had dropped to the ground.

Hermione's head had been full of thoughts. Denial. Harry lived through the curse. This third year must have.

She had ran to the third year and shook him.

And pissed off Malfoy's dad also.

"Get back to work, girl," he said in a dark voice.

And Hermione had ignored him.

The first slap to her face hadn't hurt that much but the second had really stung. As the hits had increased, the pain did also.

"Get back to work," Lucius said again after a matter of minutes that had seemed like an eternity to Hermione.

"Yes, sir," she said after a last glance at the dead third year.

//END OF FLASHBACK///

Hermione had never thought that hits would hurt so much, or that the pain would last so long. But it did. It stung even now and it left horrible marks on her face.

Nobody had commented on them but most slaves were giving her furtive glances. She had heard them whispering earlier about how she had been punished a couple of times now, how 'troublesome' she was, and how they should keep away from her.

The first years all looked up to her though. She was getting a young fan club. But Hermione always warned them not to piss people off like she did. Then she always showed them why by letting them see her bruises and cuts and scars.

*

"Draco," His father said. He strolled through the garden and his son was able to keep up with him. Smiling proudly at his son who was now nearly his height, he gestured towards the slaves. "What do you see?"

"Mudbloods, father," Draco answered without hesitation.

"Do you consider them as humans? Do you consider them as wizards?"

Draco took a second to answer. "Not anymore, father."

"Why not?"

"Because they no longer possess wands," Draco answered.

"But, with wands, you consider then as wizards?"

Draco kept silent.

"Draco?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Well," Draco looked at his father, "They can do magic."

Seeing his father's expression darken, Draco suddenly said, "But they shouldn't be able to. And now they can't. They've been put in their rightful place. Which is all thanks to you, Father."

His father smiled.

Draco, making sure his father was convinced, leaned over to one of the slaves and barked, "What the bloody hell are you doing? Can't you work faster? I swear, you're slower than a damn snail."

"I'm glad we feel the same way about slaves, Draco. Because I was thinking about having a personal slave. I was wondering if you'd be interested in the idea."

"A personal slave?" Draco prompted.

"Yes. Just one mudblood. To clean your room, perhaps, or bring you a drink if you're thirsty. Like Slinky used to for you, before we removed the house elves."

Draco smiled as he remembered Slinky. He used to make her get him anything he wanted all the time. He used not let her sleep.

"The problem with a personal slave is, of course, the fact that you may grow attached to it."

"I would like a personal slave," Draco said, "I miss Slinky terribly. What ever happened to her?"

"Oh, I sold off most of the house elves. What kind of a slave would you be interested in?"

Draco smiled.

He already had one in mind.

"A pretty girl," he answered.

"Yes. I like a slave that's nice to look at." his father agreed. Draco looked up to meet his father's dark eyes.

I pity the girl that's your slave, Draco told his father silently. There was a reason Lucious wanted a pretty girl as a slave but Draco didn't pursue the thought. Whatever his father got up to, Draco didn't want to know.

Sometimes, Draco did not admire his father.

"Oh, a girl that was smart would be useful too," Draco continued in a sleek voice. "To help me with my studies." Although Hogwarts had been attacked and closed, Draco was being home schooled.

His father looked thoughtful, "A smart, pretty mudblood. Now, where would you find one of them?"

Draco grinned, "Oh, I'll keep an eye out."

He knew exactly where to get one.

Ready or not, Granger. Here I come.