Pain.

She had never known the proper meaning of the word.

She knew now.

She needed help. She couldn't scream anymore though. She could only feel.

*

Father.

He wouldn't.

Of course he would, Draco scowled.

Oh God, Granger. She was probably dead.

Last time Draco had thought Granger had died he hadn't felt anything. Now he felt something. He felt a burning rage, boiling in his veins. Granger was his personal slave. She belonged to him. How dare anybody hurt her.

There was another emotion in him as well. Something that made his heart beat faster than ever before and his mind cloud over. Fear. What would he do if he never saw that face again? She was the one thing he had ever loved. She was the one thing that made him feel alive.

His life would be back to the endless hole it had been before without her. He would be back to just merely existing without a purpose.

He wouldn't allow that to happen.

And so, with these intense thoughts racing through his head, he began his search.

An hour later, Draco was too frustrated to think right. How many dungeons did the Malfoys need?

Where the hell would Father have taken her? He realised that Granger had been in his father's hands for a long time now and that the chances of her being alive lowered every second.

How could you do this to me, Father?

He checked through all the dungeons, sure that he hadn't missed any but he had still not found Granger.

There was only one place where she could be then if she was with his Father but Draco found it hard to believe that his father would bring a mudblood into his personal chambers. Draco had only been in there once, to be told at the end of fourth year that the Dark Lord had returned.

It took Draco a good twenty minutes to reach the entrance of his Father's chambers. He hesitated, almost sure that Granger could not be in there. Draco knew that if he was caught in his father's chambers without permission then it would result in his own punishing. Draco wasn't delighted to be running into pain.

There was also the problem that his father had many personal chambers and it was a lot of area to search.

He reluctantly pushed open the huge stone door and entered a dark gloomy hallway. Statues of beasts and heads of house elves decorated the hall, and low lamps, not giving off much light at all, cast threatening shadows around the hall. The floor was covered in a blood red carpet. Numerous paintings were hanging off the walls, showing subjects which should only belong in nightmares.

Draco felt a shiver snake up his back. He had never liked this place.

Granger owes me big time for this, he thought angrily. That is, if she's still alive.

He continued on, rushing through. He couldn't exactly open all the doors and peek inside each room. Draco didn't know what was lurking around these dark rooms. He kept her ears open though, hoping Granger would be smart enough to be screaming for help.

Outside a cold unwelcomeing door he didn't hear Granger screaming, but he heard his father's voice. Pressing his ear up against the door, he heard his father say in a mocking tone, "Why, my dear, you haven't been screaming as much. What ever is the matter?"

"Fuck you, Malfoy," A hoarse voice returned. It was a voice that was wore out from screaming.

Granger. She was there, she was alive. Now, Draco reached a new dilemma. What exactly was he supposed to do now? Rush in and be the hero? Defy his father? His father would probably kill him.

Not if I kill him first, Draco thought as he heard his father's blood curling laugh and another soft sound which could only be Granger crying.

"Father!" Draco yelled, bursting through the door that had been locked.

Two pairs of eyes locked onto him.

Then another mocking laugh erupted from his father. "Why, Draco, how nice of you to join us."

"Father," Draco said in a voice of steel. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Meaning?" Lucius inclined his head towards Granger. "Draco, she is a mudblood. I was only enjoying myself."

Enjoying yourself? Draco narrowed his eyes, glancing over Granger. He knew exactly how his father had enjoyed himself with Granger. He had never felt so disgusted with anybody in his life.

"I told you she's mine," Draco said. His voice was shaking and uneven.

"Oh yes," his father let out a sharp bark of laughter, "I must have forgotten."

"Do not vex me, Father," Draco said, pointing his wand at his father.

"Is that a request?" Lucius asked, his voice pleasantly light, but then he added dangerously, "Or an order?" He had his own wand out now at this stage.

"You promised me you would not touch Granger."

"I promised you no such thing," Lucius said in the same dangerously calm tone.

"Are we going to duel, Father?" Draco asked smirking, because they were indeed facing each other with their wands equipped, ready to duel.

"Tell me, Draco, why must we duel. Why do you care that much about this Mudblood?"

"She's mine," he said possessively.

"Yes, your personal slave. But can you not get a different personal slave?"

"I'm happy with this one."

"There's not perhaps another reason. Come now, Draco, do not be shy. Miss Granger would surely like to know and I am your father. You can tell me."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Draco yelled much louder than he had intended.

"You don't perhaps love her?" Lucius's voice was soft and cruel. His eyes were flaring in triumphant victory but his mouth was curled into a grim forced smile and he seemed even paler than usual. His nose was slightly turned up like he was smelling something rotten.

Draco didn't even bother to lie. He had enough respect left for his father not to lie. "Yes," he said, his voice as soft as his fathers. "I love her."

Draco didn't even bother to see Granger's response to this. His eyes were set on his father and although he knew what his father would say, he still felt a horrible pull in his stomach when he heard his father's response, "Then we must duel to the death, Draco. Whoever wins gets to," He smirked, "Keep," Granger made a soft sound at Lucius tone when he said 'keep', "Miss Granger. Are we in agreement, son?"

There was a certain irony in the situation. Draco was duelling with his father, who had been his life long idol, the man he had dreamed about being and loved and admired with all his heart over Harry Potter's best friend, know-it-all Hermione Granger, a mudblood.

"Yes, father."

Then they both bowed to each other, both preparing to murder a certain family member.

*