Hermione reached the bathroom, shut the door and collapsed onto the ground. She was tired and scared. That poison… she'd felt stuff. She'd felt that death eater…

Oh God…

The pain was still there, though she wasn't sure it was the after - effects or her memory and her imagination playing tricks.

I don't feel well…

She scrabbled to the toilet and vomited.

Her chest heaving, she felt tears drop down onto her cheeks. She cried for herself, she cried for Harry, who was probably in Voldemort's bass, getting tortured, she cried for Ron, who was probably all alone now if not died.

She cried for Ginny, who was probably being laughed at by Voldemort because of her and Tom Riddle in second year. She cried for Neville who had probably got himself killed by now, or driven crazy like his parents.

She cried for the other slaves, who had to work all day and not get anything for it.

She cried for her parents, knowing that they were in trouble. Damn, she cried for all the Muggles.

Those sweet, ignorant unknowing Muggles. Who didn't know of the danger that bestowed them.

She cried for the person Malfoy's dad had killed in the Garden.

She cried for the injustice of the world. She cried for her equal rights were gone.

She cried for Dumbledore's death and all of the deaths that had followed it.

And finally she cried for Justin.

She spluttered there for quite a while. No more tears just gasped sobs.

A slave came in. One of the Muggleborns. Hermione didn't stop crying.

"Sir Draco Malfoy told me to attend to you," The Muggleborn, a girl a bit older than her, said.

Hermione sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand, "I'm fine."

The girl raised an eyebrow at her as if to say, "Whatever you say," but said nothing of the sort.

Hermione stood up and shook herself. Then she splashed her face with cold water that felt like a slap to her face.

Looking at herself in he mirror, Hermione realised two things. One: She looked awful. Her face was pale. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was a mad bush on her head. Two: Her eyes held a hard glint and she looked like an angry animal.

"Could you go out and ask…" She couldn't bring herself to say his name. "Him, could I have a hot bath? Please."

The girl looked hesitant. Scared. Like she didn't want to say anything to Malfoy. Hermione briefly remembered the girl talking to Justin. She probably saw his death.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "It's okay. I'll ask."

Hermione poked her head out from the door to see if Malfoy was still there. He was lying on the bed, reading a book.

He looked up at her and asked, "What were you crying about?" He didn't say it harshly just matter of factly. Like he had the right to know.

"Everything," she answered truthfully, "Can I have a bath?"

He nodded, then turned back to his book.

Hermione returned back to the bathroom, "What's your name?" She asked the other girl.

"Marie," She answered. "I was in seventh year at Hogwarts."

Hermione didn't remember her but perhaps she would after her head got cleared.

"Well, Marie, you can go now. I'm fine."

"Could you do me a favour?" Marie said, "Could you walk out with me? Um… he really scares me."

Hermione shrugged and nodded.

Malfoy looked up as the two entered. Hermione ignored him now, and said to the girl, "Tell Laura and the others I said hi."

Marie's eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, I forgot something in the bathroom." She turned back but when Hermione didn't follow her, Marie caught hold of her arm.

When the two were back in the bathroom, Marie handed her over the diary that Laura had previously given her. "When we changed you, we found this. Here."

Hermione smiled and said, "Thank you."

The two walked back out and Hermione walked to the door with Marie, saying goodbye.

"She needed an escort to the door? Nice to know I'm feared," Malfoy said.

"Guess that's the reward when you kill someone," Hermione said before slamming the door shut on Malfoy's retort. Then she ran the bath, feeling the steam against her skin, and slipped into it and felt herself relax.

This was exactly what she needed. She needed to be alone and think everything over. She had to escape out of this place. She had to get revenge on Malfoy.

A half an hour later, Hermione stepped out of the bath. She saw the diary and stared writing in it, in a messy scribble.

//DIARY ENTRY//

///Here I am. In the Malfoy manor, with my only enemy, Malfoy, being my boss. It's great, isn't it? My life is so super. And all those damn spells and stuff I used to learn back in Hogwarts are useless. I don't even have my wand.

I feel so stupid.

I've never felt stupid before. Stupid. Like Crabbe or Goyle. I'm so utterly helpless and all that I want is for Ron or Harry to save me. That's all I want.

I want Harry to be here.

Harry, the boy who lived. God, where is he? He should be here! He saves everyone. He saved us in fifth year from the mass of death eaters. He saved us every year. Well, where the hell are you, Harry?

He had always figured stuff out.

With my help.

Damn it, it's my job to work out the smart stuff. That's my part in the Golden Trio.

Where are you, Harry?

Malfoy is going to kill me! Torture then brutally kill me! I'm crying now. I miss you so much!

I don't even know why Malfoy is keeping me alive yet. It's kind of unnerving, like he knows you're not going to come rescue me.

Like nobody will.

But somebody will.

Right??? //

//END OF DIARY ENTRY//

Hermione slipped into the warm robe that Marie had given her. It was a bit big but wrapped her in comfort.

She slipped the diary into her pocket.

Stepping out, Hermione was surprised to find Malfoy still lying on her bed, head buried in the book. Hermione noticed it was Hogwarts, a history.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked.

He glanced up, put down the corner of his book, and glanced back at her again. Finally he said, "Coming to collect my slave, of course," he added an irritating smirk.

"Can't we just call it a night? I'm tired. After all I was living out my dreams. I didn't actually get any sleep."

Malfoy smirked, "No, I'm not tired. Anyway, you seemed to enjoy your dreams. All about Potter."

*

Draco watched as Granger blushed. She looked so cute standing there, with a swirl of red across her cheekbones, like an artist had just added the finishing touch to her portrait.

She looked lovely with her wet hair draped across her neck, already drying into curls. Granger wasn't beautiful but she was pretty and Draco felt himself reacting to her.

Her brown eyes were so big and expressive.

Right then, she seemed like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He wondered if Potter saw the same thing Draco did when he looked at her.

Damn it, Potter. I hate him.

"Leave Harry out of this!" Granger snapped.

"Why should I? Why would I take an order from a slave? A Mudblood," he lingered on the word Mudblood and saw another swirl of red reach her face, this time because of anger.

"I'm better than you will ever be." Granger said. She used the tone she used when she was explaining something. Posh and know-it-all. "You're below me," she continued.

He smirked, though anger reigned inside of him. Slowly, purposefully dragging out his movements, he took his wand out of his pocket and held it out to face her.

"Let's see about that, shall we?" Draco said, "Crucio."

She fell to the ground, crying out in pain.

He stood over her, grinning. Leaving the curse much longer than before, he said, "I think you're below me now, Granger." He was towering over her.

He let the curse off eventually. She stayed on the ground, shaking. Tears filled her eyes but she did not cry. Instead, she met his eyes directly and said, "You're below Harry and you know it."

He hit her. In one fluid movement, he bent down to her level and punched her in the face. All smirks of amusement were gone.

She fell back as the force of the punch flew through her.

"Damn you, Malfoy," she said in a low dangerous murmur, "Damn you to hell."

He looked at her face, now highlighted with hate.

Damn, she really did hate him.

He could have any girl he wanted. Any girl would fall to his feet. Yet the one girl he really felt for, hated him. And that one girl was a Mudblood. A slave.

Without saying anything, Draco stormed out and left her.

He fell into his own bed, and sighed. He knew he wouldn't get any sleep tonight.

*

Hermione watched as he left then opened up the diary and began to write.

//DIARY ENTRY//

// I hate this. I hate my life right now. I've never felt so alone and sad as I do right now. I don't even feel angry at Malfoy. I just feel disgusted.

I'm crying again. How many times can I cry? I don't know how to react to anything anymore. I wish I was strong. Harry's strong. Ron is strong. Dumbledore was strong. But Dumbledore is dead.

I'm only a kid. Well, I'm not. I'm sixteen. But I feel like a child. I need my parents. I need somebody here, to talk to. To take care of me.

Because I am not doing a good job of it myself. Not at all.

I am so afraid. I don't want to die. God, I don't even want to live. Not here.

Not here on my own.

Malfoy is acting so weird. He seems to be losing it. He's never been so out of control before. I looked into his silver eyes and I saw the eyes of a crazy man.

My world has just crashed from around me. Everything used to be so safe. Well, not safe. Every year, something bad happened but I always knew us good guys would win. I always knew Harry and Ron would keep me safe.

But they're not here.

A thought just hit me. How am I going to get revenge on Malfoy?

Am I going to kill him?

No.

But he did kill Justin.

It's weird, I don't even think about Justin that much anymore. I just can't. I think I'm slowly driving myself mad.

I think Malfoy is driving me mad.

I think I should just get out of here. But How?

//END OF DIARY ENTRY//