A/N Sorry it's been a few weeks! Here's hoping you enjoy this chapter!
xxxxxxxxxx
Light filtered in through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom. The girl on the bed shifted, blinking awake. For a moment, she forgot where she was and was prepared to cast a charm to darken the curtains. She paused in her movements, realizing the bed was not her usual one. That's right, she was Malfoy Manor. She sat up, looking down at the white comforter, a color she never thought she'd associate with the Malfoys. Very slowly, she swung her legs off the bed, a house-elf immediately appearing beside her. If she had the energy, Hermione probably would have jumped. She simply looked startled, turning down to the elf. "Can I help you?"
"I think I can help you, Miss." The elf bowed low, nose nearly touching the ground. He snapped his hand, a tray appearing in his hand with a single vial on it. Inside was a clear liquid, clearest Hermione had ever seen. She took it immediately. "Breakfast, Miss?"
She shook her head, popping open the vial, watching a pink mist escape it. She downed it quickly, blinking as its effects took over. Effects she knew were only temporary. Her fingers put the stopper back shakily and she felt some strength enter her system. She blinked, the color returning to her face. "Where is Lord Malfoy?"
"They are all down in the dining hall, Miss. Awaiting you, I believe." Her lips twitched and she moved to the wardrobe, pushing it open. A soft pop told her the elf had disappeared, but almost in that same instant, the door pushed open and the same woman from the night before walked in. Hermione watched her move, making the bed. She almost smiled. With her ginger hair all disheveled and her matronly clothes, the woman reminded her very much of a certain ginger-haired mother.
The younger girl leaned against the open wardrobe doors, watching the lady work. She twisted her lips, hoping she wouldn't startle her. "I'm sorry, who-who are you?" Hermione clasped her hands in front of her. "I'm Hermione Granger. You assisted me last night when Masters Malfoy and Zabini brought me here. Yet, I still don't know your name."
The woman squeaked and turned to her, closed fist over her chest. "Oh, forgive me, Madame. I did not see you there." She curtsied and Hermione immediately spotted the small image on the back of her hand. It could have been mistaken for a birthmark if she hadn't seen it on so many others before. A skin-toned circle lay in the space between the woman's thumb and index finger. Around it were four evenly spaced circular indents and in between those, similarly sized skin-toned circles. It was a sign Hermione had first seen a few months into her capture. The woman was a squib.
"You don't have to do that, you know. I hate when people do that." She pressed against the wardrobe door, swallowing the bile that had risen on the back of her throat. She had heard stories of what they'd done to squibs living in the wizarding world over Europe. Of what his people had done. How she hoped that they'd been false. She spoke her next words quietly. "I serve them just as much as you do."
"Courtesan." The woman shook her head, needing no explanation and took a few steps forward. "I apologize for the intrusion. I was under the impression you had gone with Nosey to breakfast." She paused as if barely registering the question. "No one has ever asked me my name. At least, none of the Malfoy's former guests have. Although, looking at you, Madame. You don't look like just any guest." The woman tilted her head and watched her for a moment before her eyes widened. "Hermione Granger, you say? Of the Golden trio?"
"Do they still call us that nowadays?" Hermione rolled her eyes, taking a few steps forward. She always hated that nickname. Of course she beamed when she did something correct, she wasn't completely devoid of pride, but come on, The Golden Trio? "Really, that is rather silly. I mean, look at us. Two are Merlin knows where making botched attempts to rescue me and a third is kept away as a sexual servant. I dare say we aren't so golden anymore." She extended her delicate hand to the woman, chocolate eyes curious. "But yes, Hermione Granger of the…somewhat pale yellow trio. I belong to Master Lestrange."
The woman took her offered hand gently and Hermione smiled at the warmth. "Then if I am not mistaken you must be at breakfast at once. I suspect the men are rather hungry. They won't start without you, you know. They've been sat drinking some tea in the lounge area." She brought her hand back to her side, moving around towards the wardrobe. "Take a seat, dear. I will find your outfit for breakfast."
"That is hardly necessary!" Hermione shook her head, crossing her arms. "I am quite capable of doing it myself, Miss….you never did tell me your name."
The woman paused in her movements, turning to the girl. "I apologize. The names Evanora. Evanora Prewett."
"Prewett?" Her eyebrows furrowed and she could feel the wheels in her head turning. "I've heard that name before. Where have I heard that before?" She turned her back to the woman, attempting to come up with an answer to her own question. The woman moved, searching through the wardrobe. At the sound of ruffling outfits and shoes, it clicked. It made absolutely no sense and yet, the woman's characteristics, her features and her voice. Hermione turned back around to her, butterflies flying through her stomach. "You're related to Molly, aren't you? Molly Weasley?"
Evanora froze, her fingers gripping a pair of nude heels in her hands. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then proceeded to gather the things Hermione would wear, turning to her. "My sister, yes."
xxxxxxxxxx
Draco took a sip of his tea, watching the pair before him. Blaise and Theodore Nott were in a heated game of wizard's chess. The former was currently in the lead, but one wrong move and Nott could easily destroy his king. He placed the teacup back on the saucer, gently handing over the empty china to the muggleborn attending to them. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes. His senses heightened, but he kept his composure, careful not to give anything away as he listened. It was something he'd do as a child around the halls of the home. He recalled relaxing against the hallway near his father's study, listening to his parents argue about whatever problem they had that day. He had a knack for picking up stray words and putting them in correct sentences. Currently, he was listening to his father and his uncle discuss Hermione Granger's attitude.
"Really, Rodolphus, she seems to be getting out of hand. The way she snapped at Draco the other day, it's surprising." He could practically hear his father's frown. "You were lucky enough to be appointed her master, especially with Bella as jealous as she was then. I know you like to give her a long leash, but there comes a time-"
"We need her, Lucius. We need her on our side and at the moment, in my care, she has made no attempts to escape. You saw her reaction then, she listens to me. That, my dear friend, is because she trusts me."
"She's biding her time, you daft fool!" Draco resisted the urge to crack a smile. His father was sneering, he could tell. Lucius' voice always dipped when he did and it was so subtle you could never tell, but Draco had been listening to his voice for years. "She's the brightest witch of her age, of any generation we've seen thus far, Rodolphus. Trust me, that girl is looking for a way out. She has been for the past two years and it's not a matter of if-it's a matter of when because she will leave you. The best decision is to end her. Give her a deadline for the antidote, brew as much as she can and then snuff her out. She knows too much of our inner workings, we cannot afford to have her join the Order."
Something slammed against the floor, a cane, he figured. "We will not kill her! She is mine, Lucius! When she lands in your hands, and believe you me, that will never happen, you may do with her what you wish! Now, I know you worry and I will take them into consideration, but she is not going to die. I have worked hard to mold her into the perfect little prostitute that she is and I will not see that ruined. Not because of some paranoid delusion you have!"
Draco lifted his head as the sound of heels clicked against the stone floor. He whistled quietly at the men by the chess table and his relatives on the other side of the room, standing. The room quieted and they all made last minute adjustments to their clothes. He straightened his coat, watching the mudblood servant hide in the corner, where he remained out of the way. The door opened and Miss Prewett entered, followed closely by a smiling Hermione. She looked healthy, he noted. Her hair was up in a slightly messy bun, strands of hair framing her face. Her skin was shiny, in a way that told him immediately it had to be the potion Rodolphus had sent up to her.
She wore a low-cut halter ivory dress. 'No corset this time," he thought, but he supposed after the fainting incident, Rodolphus had allowed her to wear something comfortable. At the neck, the fabric folded into a bow before continuing down her back in one single strip to just below mid-back. It was when she moved to Rodolphus that he caught a glimpse of the slits. Two of them ran up the sides of her legs, stopping just enough to leave her decent, but not enough to leave much to the imagination. As she tilted her head to press her lips to his uncle's knuckles, the man smiled and lifted her head, pressing his lips to hers. He almost recoiled in the way she leaned in to him. Slowly, the girl made her way around the room, kissing the knuckles of the eldest Malfoy, then Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and finally, Draco's.
"Hermione." He nodded down at her as her eyes looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I see you're feeling better."
"Yes, isn't that nice." The group turned to watch Narcissa Malfoy enter the lounge, moving to her husband. Her eyes narrowing at the girl. "I was so afraid you would miss breakfast. A young lady like you who keeps so active must never miss a meal." She practically spat venom and Draco had to stop himself from flinching. His mother rarely ever spoke in such a way to anyone, but it was clearly evident by her tone. Hermione Granger was not welcome in her home.
"Now, now, Narcissa." Lucius wrapped an arm around his wife, giving her a smile. "Play nice. Miss Granger is a guest and she will remain a guest as long as necessary." His fingers squeezed her tightly, daring her to disagree, but the woman said nothing, opting instead to look away.
The door to the dining room opened and Evanora walked in. "Breakfast is served. You may proceed into the dining area." The Lady Malfoy walked brusquely into the room, nose turned up, followed by her husband and son. Blaise and Theodore walked after their friend and Hermione took Rodolphus' outstretched arm, entering alongside him. Lucius Malfoy sat at the head of the table, his wife on his right and Rodolphus on his left. Draco took the seat beside his mother, sitting across from Hermione, who blushed as her master held out her chair. Narcissa made a disgusted sound, passing it off as a cough. Blaise unbuttoned his blazer as he sat beside the courtesan, looking across at Theodore.
Easily, everyone slipped into soft conversation, except for Hermione. She moved her food around her plate, picking at the fruit. Draco rose a brow, but thought nothing of it, turning to Theodore. "Hermione, you've barely eaten." Blaise noted, looking at her with worry. "You must gain your strength, the potion prescribed by the healer will only do so much."
The girl nodded, taking a lazy bite out of some watermelon. She coughed, covering her mouth with her napkin, shaking her head as an arm slipped between her and Blaise's shoulders, pouring some water. "No, no, I'm-" She moved an inch, causing the arm to shift and spill water over several of the food. She stopped in her movements and slowly looked up at the man, fighting back the tears that sprung in her eyes. Justin Finch-Fletchley had frozen, everyone had. In a second, he very carefully retracted his arm.
"I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to! You're cup was empty, I- I was just-" His eyes shone with fear and Hermione instantly understood why.
"What the hell is the matter with you, boy?! Did we ask you to speak! Merlin, we should have cut out your tongue when we had the chance!" Narcissa Malfoy's voice cut through the air, causing Hermione to flinch. "You can't do anything right, can you!? You sit back and only come forward as directed. Haven't we told you enough times!" She scowled at him, standing from her seat. "Evanora! Evanora, come here!" The woman who looked so much like Molly walked in from the kitchens, head down. "Take him! Take him from here now and put him in the cellar with the others! I can't bear to look at him any longer! Better yet, put him in solitary until he is dealt with and I promise you-" At this Narcissa turned to Justin. "-you will be dealt with!"
The fear in Justin's eyes as he was taken away mirrored her own, Hermione knew and she gripped tightly onto the chair. If only she hadn't moved, if only she'd have let him. There was a possibility that Narcissa would have remained quiet, that she wouldn't have said anything about him serving her. She mentally slapped herself, forcing herself to swallow the knot in her throat. "What an idiot! Merlin knows, the mudbloods cannot do anything right, even in their rightful place. Below us." Hermione kept her eyes downcast, refusing herself to look at Lucius and Narcissa. How easy it was to forget that they all thought this way, that she could at any second be in Justin's position. At the moment, though horrendous and degrading, she was safe. Her position kept her safe, but it was times like these that she realised just how low she was in the food chain.
Hermione slowly looked up at Rodolphus, willing any emotion out of her eyes. "I was wondering, Master Lestrange, might I be excused for some fresh air? It is quite stuffy in here." She ignored the gaping look of Lady Malfoy and kept her focus on the man before her.
"I'll accompany you. I'm in rather need of some air myself." To her surprise, it hadn't been Rodolphus who had saved her, but Draco Malfoy. She turned to him and nodded before looking back at her master. She still needed his permission after all. He nodded his head once, agreeing and Hermione stood instantly, heading to the door. Draco pushed his chair out, removing his coat and placing it on the coat hanger. "We'll be in the gardens."
He took a hold of her upper arm, walking her through the door just as she heard Narcissa cry out, "Not my gardens!"
xxxxxxxxxx
As soon as they were outside, Hermione shoved from his grip, falling to her knees and losing her breakfast in Narcissa's petunias. Draco was the one person she allowed herself to lose control in front of. Perhaps it had something to do with their interactions at Hogwarts. He had always seen her as weak and disgusting and she felt no shame in showing him it was true. At least not when she felt so herself. Everyone else expected her to act with class and an air of grace, no matter her blood status and her career in bedding men. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and then wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to calm her shaking. She didn't even feel him sit beside her and take his wand out, vanishing the vomit. Her eyes were closed tightly and she refused to look at him, afraid the moment they opened, tears would tumble down her cheeks.
"He really should've known better, Granger. It really isn't your fault. Mother hates it when any one of them so much as breathes without her permission." Draco wasn't exactly sure why he was trying to make her feel better. He told himself it was just because he didn't want to have to deal with her crying, but if that was the case, why had he volunteered to come along with her? He kept his wand secure in his hand, watching her shivers slow.
"How many?" She whispered, turning her head slightly, but not yet facing him.
His eyebrows furrowed and he waited for her to continue. When it became clear she wouldn't, he scowled in frustration. "How many what, Granger?"
"How many of us do you have?" She turned to face him then, her eyes bright with tears. "She said to 'put him in the cellar with the others,' Malfoy. So Justin can't be the only muggleborn you own." She looked down as he handed her a transfigured handkerchief. Her fingers closed gingerly over the fine fabric. "I know you think I'm fragile, Draco Malfoy, but I can take it."
"Five. At least five others like you, I believe. I'm not quite sure, I've never been in the cellar. I've seen it from afar, but I never feel the need to enter. We just have to call for one and they appear." He looked away from her horrified gaze. "Justin is a Manor servant, he works for everyone here, but that isn't the case for all of them."
Hermione clutched the handkerchief tightly in her hand, taking a breath. She was afraid to hear the answer to her next question, but she just had to ask. "Anyone else I know?"
He cleared his throat, his icy eyes on the flowers surrounding them. "Dennis Creevey. He serves me."
"No!" It escaped her lips in a soft sob and she buried her face in her hands. Draco grimaced, remaining quiet after some time. Her heart broke for the boy who couldn't have been much older than sixteen now. His brother, Colin, had been lost during the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had heard. She remembered hoping Dennis had been served a better fate, but Hermione wasn't so sure now that he had. A servant and to the Malfoys no less! She wiped at her eyes, collecting her composure. "Is he-is he okay?"
He was not prepared for this question. The blonde shifted in his spot on the ground, his arms around his knees. He thought back to the small blonde boy who so quickly paid him attention and shrugged. "I've never paid it too much attention. He's fast and he tends to do everything right the first time, thank Merline. I've yet to let my mother borrow him. She likes to play with them and I don't fancy her returning him to me completely useless."
Hermione's eyes darkened and she held herself back from striking him. "How is it that every time you show an ounce of humanity you make a comment like that?!" She shook her head, completely disgusted. "He isn't some plaything, Malfoy, he is a human being. He has emotions and feelings and thoughts! No matter how much control you think you have over him, you will never fully own him!"
She nearly jumped at his laughter, a shiver running down her spine. Quickly, his eyes flashed with annoyance and he stood and pulled her up with him, ignoring her cry of pain as his hold tightened on her wrist. "Oh, bloody Morgana, you are so naïve! No, really, it's actually kind of endearing." A quick charm kept her silent, although her lips still moved in anger. She tugged, attempting to slip away from him. That only seemed to infuriate him even further. They slipped back into the manor and he practically had to carry her up the stairs as she kept attempting to hold on. After a few more twists and turns, he pushed her into a dark room, removing the charm from her and placing it on the room.
"What the hell is the matter with you, Malfoy!?" She took a few steps forward and found her way blocked by a separation spell. Draco shook his head, watching her. "Have you lost your bloody mind?! Rodolphus would sooner kill you than let you explain how you've treated me! He will find out about this!" She stared at him incredulously, her right hand rubbing at her wrist. After a few moments, she took the time to look about the room, a look of confusion gracing her face.
It was a large room with large shelves adorning the right wall. In the middle, were long tables with cauldrons bubbling and simmering and on the left wall, vials up on vials of potions. "This is what you brought me here for? After your little violent display, you really think I'm going to work on the potion right now or at all? I'll kill myself just to spite you, ferret!" She practically growled out and in her anger, hadn't noticed he'd removed the separation charm. The back of his hand collided with her cheek and she gasped in pain. Black dots filled her vision and she blinked several times, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from letting out a sob.
His hand gripped her chin tightly and he turned her to look at him, his eyes dark. "You'd do well to remember how to speak to your superiors, mudblood. Just because I kept you safe yesterday when your precious little friends attacked, just because I can hold a civil conversation does not mean I'm your friend." He pushed her away from her and she felt the wind knock out of her as the edge of the table hit her back. She stifled a groan, tears pricking her eyes. "Turn around." At the look of horror that crossed her face, he made a disgusted noise. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, princess! Like I would ever touch you like that. Some people may be okay with that, but I haven't forgotten what you are just because others say you're a lion in the sack."
She grimaced and turned her back to him, looking at the fourth and final wall. Well, it was more like windows, three of them, separated by only a thin metal. She felt him push her forward and she walked closer, looking out. Her knees buckled at what she saw and apparently, Malfoy had noticed because an arm wrapped around her waist, holding her steady. His free hand was on the back of her neck, keeping her eyes forward. "Look at them, Granger. I own them. I can do whatever I want with them, whenever I want and there is nothing you and your damned pride can do about it." His fingers curled in her hair and he pulled her head back against his chest, eliciting a yelp from the brunette. "I tend to take care of my pets, Hermione. I don't like it when they're wounded, but speak to me like that again and I'll make sure Dennis joins his brother in whatever sort of afterlife you believe in. Do you understand me?" She remained quiet and he growled, tightening his hold on her hair, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I asked you a question, Granger."
"Ye-yes." It came out in a whimper, her voice no longer holding any sort of confidence.
"Yes what?" His voice was silky and much more calm than before, but it still oozed poison.
"Yes, Master Malfoy." He grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple, causing her to close her eyes.
"Good job, Princess." His arms released her and she fell to the floor, looking out the window to the cellar below. Justin was chained in a cage in the corner, howling in pain. Snakes slid up and down his torso, some teasing, others biting. His veins popped against his skin and Hermione knew that he must only be being kept alive by some torturous spell. Dennis Creevey or what must've been him, sat in a corner, his head tucked into his chest as he slept. He wore tattered clothing, dirt and grime covering his face. At least six or more people, some of which must have been muggleborns and the others, squibs, lay discarded around the cellar floor. She couldn't bear to look any longer and she let out a loud sob, removing her gaze from the blood-covered room.
She felt more than heard Draco pull up a chair and take a seat. She ignored him as best she could, which truthfully, wasn't all that easy. If Hermione had ever hated the man before, she certainly hadn't realized how much. In the last few minutes of their time together, she vowed to herself she'd be the one to kill him. She would be the one to rip his heart from his chest and no one else would take that satisfaction from her.
xxxxxxxxxx
A/N Soooo, here is chapter 3! I am actually very proud of this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed! Please, please, please review!