Here's the next chapt. Amazing how time goes so fast. I've tried something new with the narrative (see end note) I'd appreciate feedback as the previous chapt I felt like I'd dug myself a difficult whole to write out of. Let me know what you think 

IMPORTANT NOTE: Looking back I don't like the name I gave to Blaize's father, I'VE DECIDED TO CHANGE IT TO SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE. I know J.K. Rowling liked Greek names (Severus, Lucius etc) so I decided to change it to MARCUS. (New readers won't be affected by this change)

BLAIZE'S FATHER IS NOW CALLED MARCUS (sorry for any inconvenience)

Chapter 11

Rivals & Failure the beginning

It was gone after midnight before Lucius Malfoy put down his cup of coffee with an angry sigh, throwing a thick wad of parchment upon his desk. To his added irritation he saw them tilt over the edge slightly. Before he could reach out, they fell off with a crash and a flutter. Parchment flew out across the room in different directions, covering his immaculately clean floor. Growling and gritting his teeth he drew his wand and muttered the fetching spell. The parchments all landed neatly in a pile, now firmly under a large paper weight.

He sat glaring across the room, tapping his fingers against the side of his chair in agitation. His cold eyes caught sight of a copy of the current Daily Prophet also resting on his desk. Pulling it towards him for the hundredth time that day he gazed down at the cover story.

Again for the fifth time that week Granger was on the front cover, a photograph of her just before she was apparated to the Zabini mansion, a look of confusion and fear on her face. The headline above read 'Marcus Zabini refuses to comment on prize Son's decision!' Below this was a small picture of Blaize who stood singly in the frame arms folded, composed and uninterested. The article spoke of Zabini's refusal to comment on his son's sudden buy and why he himself had not decided to bid.

Of course throughout the editorial (which continued for the next three pages, and commented briefly in many other articles) were small personal remarks involving Lucius and Draco's defeat and humiliation; 'It has been learnt Mister Malfoy, whom refuses to comment to our reporter; has hardly left his home, only doing so to travel to Azkaban. A close source reveals that his son Draco Malfoy has been storming around the family grounds in a fowl mood at having been publicly humiliated once again by the rival golden boy' and so on and so forth.

Realising his knuckles were now white from clenching the paper so hard, he threw the paper towards the bin at the corner of the room. Thumping a hand on his desk he took a deep breath trying in vein to restrain his temper.

Standing suddenly he strode over to a large filling cabinet, pressing his wand to the empty able above the handle he stated "Granger, H", their came a loud rustling and squeak of metal upon metal inside. Talking hold of the handle he pulled the draw open with a sharp movement. Inside stood one small brown folder with 'Granger, Hermione' on the label, so it could be clearly seen. Beside it lay a long black box.

Taking the box he lifted the lid and gazed at the light coloured wand, glad she would never lay eyes on it again. Closing the lid he put her wand away and moved onto the folder, grabbing it with his pale hand, shoving the draw closed with venom and sitting back down. Glaring at the folder for a moment he slammed it on his desk before opening to the first page. A large wizard photograph showed a moving picture of Hermione; this one had a look of pure hatred on her face being held firmly in between two Deatheater's.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, the small sign of a smirk playing on his thin lips. He was surprised he had forgotten the moment when they dragged her from her cell, so that her picture and details could be taken; the glee he had felt adding her file to the many hundreds of Azkaban inhabitants was indescribable.

In the picture he saw her franticly try to pull away while at the same time seem proud and superior. Something she was miserably failing to do. He turned the pages slowly gazing at the useless information that had been collected, from her appearance to the many behaviour reports filled, where she had attacked many of his men and of course the punishment she had received.

Many of his kind might be seen as brainless psychopaths, joining the Dark Lord out of fear; but he Lucius Malfoy had to have order and control. Something many of the imbecilic members didn't understand. This was why each file of prisoners was kept, information collected for any clue which may aid them in case the impossible happened. One escaped.

As he turned back to the front page of her file, his stare traced the outlines of the word 'sold' with distain. The very mention of the word made him boil with rage; the smallest snippet of information of the Zabini family made him nauseous and flew him into an almighty temper. Lucius Malfoy was known for his short patience and quick changing emotions but everyone in Azkaban and out of it whom had crossed his path, knew his current mood was at its most dangerous. Nobody dared to challenge him. However that didn't stop them laughing in secret as he sat in his dark office licking his wounds of embarrassment and failure. The Zabini's had won a powerful point in the dangerous game his family played against them. Not only had his actions of controlling Azkaban been defied by half the upper class Wizards in the country by going through with the bidding, but his master; his beloved master whom he offered his soul to serve; had turned against him.

His fist clenched once more at the thought and he began gritting his teeth again. Had the Dark Lord not punished him for his and Draco's failures? What made the situation worse was that he knew the Dark Lord would never forgive him for failing that day at the ministry and his mission of retrieving the prophecy. That blow had hit him hard, he knew he was lucky to be alive and breathing now. But when he was broken out of Azkaban he certainly had suffered at the hand of the Dark Lord. And Draco's failure of killing Dumbledore had been the action of placing the rope around his own neck.

He didn't remember how it came about that he and Draco had been allowed to live. Perhaps the fact that Draco had proved that he could at least get the Deatheater's into the castle unnoticed was the reason? Or that, true he himself had not been as valuable as Snape, but he too carried information on the ministry which had aided to their down fall? Had Draco not captured one of the famous three?

He highly doubted it. He knew his master; he was saving them for his own purpose probably a suicide mission one that he would never be able to complete. And that thought made his heart freeze falling to the pit of his stomach. Yet time passed and he and his family remained alive. Though his failure had been noted by all, it was clear Lucius Malfoy was no longer a key member of the original circle of Deatheater's marked by the Dark Lord himself. His post at this hellhole spoke volumes.

No longer in the playing field didn't stop him trying however and for the first time in his life he took interest in his son. Draco was weak, more so then he imagined; especially after the Dark Lord was finished with him. He knew the only way back to power he had before, was though Draco. The Dark Lord would need a successor in the future, someone at his side who he could trust. What ever the costs Lucius Malfoy had promised himself that person would be his son. Already a near impossible task with Bellatrix in the family, however the unveiling of the new Zabini protégée had certainly made things more complicated then needs be.

He closed Hermione's file with frustration. Yes the Zabini's had made a celebratory blow, perhaps now was the time to return the favour?

He stood up and replaced Hermione's file in the cabinet, as many different horrendous visions passed his mind of what he would inflict if he could; many containing curses of a most vicious nature. Sighing he waved his wand and the various piles of parchment and work disappeared. He would deal with that later, if he had to spend another moment in the building he was sure he would explode. And a Malfoy always oozed control, no matter what any of the vulgar lower class crowd may utter about him. He was a pureblood and that in today's world still carried certain leverage.

Wrapping his back travelling cloak around his body he stepped in the hallway and locked his office door, reciting the necessary protection spells. Satisfied he arrogantly strode down the dark hallways towards the main hall so he could apparate home. Half way there he lazily put a hand in his pocket to see if the small document he had placed their hours earlier was still safe. His hand touched a screwed up piece of parchment. Frowning in curiosity he pulled it out and unscrewed it. It was a small green invitation addressed to him and his family. He smiled evilly as the memories returned.

He had entirely forgotten the Zabini's were holding a small dinner party, involving many of today's influential society members. Lucius, of course had planned to deliberately ignore the polite invitation, which had only been sent so they could flaunt what he once had. Now however his view changed. Perhaps this was the ideal time for him to bring the rival family down a peg.

Immediately more plans unravelled in his mind, these however being much achievable then his previous.

A painful silence had rested over the Zabini's mansion. News had passed quickly that the new girl had caused uproar with the family. However the cause remained unknown no matter how hard the staff tried to learn it. Those that did know the reason especially Mae Collin's; felt a continuous sweat on her brow and her breath to be slightly uneven.

She placed a pile of fresh sheets on the large king's size bed before her. She sighed rubbing her temple due to the aching headache which had caused her to have little sleep the last few nights. As she began striping the beds her thoughts passed to Hermione, whom she had ordered to not be disturbed. Her stomach clenched in guilt for the girl, all those that came here were in bad condition. But Hermione had been far the worse. Even she had found it difficult to ignore how far broken she was and how she was at the very edge of insanity.

She ripped the pillow from its case throwing it to the floor in anger. Why did he have to do that? Why do they all have to do that? And here she was making his bed, what had the world come to?

Sighing once more she sat down on the bed closing her eyes while taking deep breaths. There was no point digging up such questions, it would only cause trouble. If she questioned the house hold it would only fall apart. She was the one who held it together, if she fell apart only turmoil would ensue.

Besides they hadn't been that bad considering, she knew for a fact this was one of the safest places someone like her could be. Ironic.

She continued making the bed, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind. She ignored the sickening feeling that her next duty would be to go and see Hermione. She would have to try and sort her out as much as possible before the family came back again. She hoped Hermione realised how lucky she was that they left again the following day. It was rare that they all left at the same time and so quickly after returning from somewhere else. Normally Blaize and Abigail were home, though Blaize was spending more time away like his father on business as it was called. His mother never had a fixed pattern.

Smoothing the blanket she placed the pillows in the correct places neatly. Picking up the old she made her way over to the attached private bathroom. Dropping the sheets she went inside shortly and retuned with old towels. Picking up the sheets again she crossed the room with the dirty items.

Her eyes caught sight of a wooden box which would contain a wand when the owner was present. Pausing slightly she felt her heart beat increase to a flutter. She hurried to the door frame and looked outside the room down the empty corridors.

Dropping the sheets she closed the door silently and hastily walked towards the dresser where the box was held. Gently rubbing a finger over the polished wood she felt the engravings against her fingertips. Flipping the small metal catch she pulled the lid open. Inside she expected to see an empty box of with green velvet inlays however a loud gasp escaped her lips when she saw a small slim light wood wand inside.

Looking round guiltily making sure she was on her own she picked the wand up. A magical tingle went down her arm. It was only light however, it not being her true wand. She urged to wave it and try a dazzling spell to make up for emptiness she had felt. Looking at it for a long while she sighed and replaced it; even with a wand being considered a squib made her magic limited. She was considered lucky to have friends who allowed her to borrow there's for a small wave. At the time this short moments were enough to satisfy when she was younger. But the hollow envy grew with time.

It was easiest to decline these opportunities, the sooner she faced the truth the faster it would be to accept what she was. Unfortunately life didn't work like that.

The box wasn't charmed shut or had any protection she could see. She grimly knew that if she had found the wand they knew she wouldn't do anything with it. Ashamed she knew they were right. She couldn't help but feel an embarrassment for what she was, yet it was one of the factors that had kept her alive. After all the Zabini family didn't want a fully develop witch in charge of their house did they. You would have thought after all this time it would have been easier to accept.

She wondered who the wand belonged to, it wouldn't have been one of theirs; they always carried their own, unless it was Abigail's? Had they taken her to Diagon Ally to buy her the wand she would have for life? She was still very young, but then so much had changed maybe they allowed that now. The more she thought about it Mae decided it must be Abigail's. The box was pretty and perfect thing to store the little girl's wand in. Maybe she would get it for her eleventh birthday before she went off to school?

Turning away she wished she had never found it. As she stepped away she felt a longing to be near it again. Even if it was worthless magic wise to her. Gritting her teeth she attempted to push the thoughts to the back of her mind. It would only create trouble if she took it.

'Maybe I could blame it on somebody else?-'. The minute the dark thought came, the faster she dismissed it. I'm not one of them.

Picking up the sheets she hurried from the room closing the door behind her. Glad the wall created a barrier from the magical item. After dispensing the sheets and giving further sharp orders she hurried to the kitchen and picked up the tray of steaming soup and bread and headed upstairs. Each step she took, becoming more difficult and more mechanical, knowing where they were going.

The room was silent when Mae entered and as it had been for the previous days very dark. Only now the air was thick and muggy from the lack of fresh air. Frowning Mae inched inside the room, irritated by how nervous she felt. She prided herself when it came to her staff and their solving problems; well the minor ones anyway. Hermione however felt another unfixable problem in her life and she knew she'd had enough of those as it was. What she and everybody needed was a consistent routine. That way individual thought involving imaginative escape and anticipation would be minimised.

Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she wished the room had windows, an air vent; anything. She was glad she had the sense of moving Becky into another room, which she reminded herself, had caused utter chaos within the hidden hierarchy of the staff.

Everybody deciding the room given emphasised the importance of the position.

Mae stopped her personal rant as she looked at the heap of blankets on the centre of the bed.

"Poor dear", she murmured. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she placed the tray on the floor. The lump lay still ignoring the new comer.

"Hermione, I don't think this is going to help" she told her, referring to hiding away in darkness.

Through the light that entered the room from the open door, Mae could see the many untouched meals resting near the other bed, adding to the stale smell. She sighed and rested a gentle hand on the blankets adding a light push. She was met by silence. Perhaps she was asleep? She nudged again gently but with a hint of meaning.

"Hermione are you awake?"

Again a stony silence. She pulled at the blankets but they refused to move. Pulling harder, they remained firm with equal vigour. Standing Mae pulled with a sharp strong tug. For someone who hadn't eaten in days Hermione was able to hold the blankets firm. Finally they dislodged showing a head of unkempt hair.

Upon hearing a groan the blankets were again tugged back and the head disappeared.

Relief that Hermione was still breathing due to the smothering Duvet was soon replaced with anger at having been ignored.

"Hermione I think it's time to get up now! You'll drive yourself crazy other wise"

Hermione continued to ignore her. Mae stood looking down at the bed, unsure of how to continue. She had one final idea left. However the outcome she guessed would fall to two extremes. Good or bad; very bad.

Clenching her teeth, she took a readying breath for what she was about to do. Seizing the blanket she wrenched them off the bed. Hermione moaned louder and curled up using her arms to cover her face.

"Get up now!" ordered Mae, her vice no longer sympathetic.

"Leave me alone" was her curt reply. Hermione's voice was weak and cracked from the force of obvious crying.

"Stop this selfish behaviour! Do you think we all get a day off to mope? You were bought for a reason, not to spend your time resting" Mae barked gripping her arm and pulling Hermione into a seating position. Hermione snapped her head towards her with an icy glare.

"Selfish!"

"Oh, so you haven't turned permanently deaf. Just picking and choosing". Hermione opened her mouth to argue but Mae continued cutting her off.

"I take it you think this behaviour will bring the attention you feel you deserve?" she waited for an answer eye brows knitted, watching the girl on the bed mouth open flushed with emotion. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but found herself lost for words. She tried again but anger left her momentarily unable to speak. Mae stood patiently, waiting for Hermione to gather her thoughts.

"Attention seeking!" she finally shrieked jumping to her feet. "Have you any idea of what I've been through?"

"Oh yes, we've all suffered dear. You're not the only one" Mae told her calmly.

With her bedraggled hair and red face, Hermione gave the impression of an angry lion. Yet Mae faced her head on, counting on her rising anger and negative feelings which were steadily consuming her. She needed to release some of them at least, on a neutral source.

"Everyone I have ever known and loved is dead" she cried, ignoring the chance that Ron was still alive. She had come to the decision Lyra had been mistaken, if Harry was dead Ron must be to, how would Ron continue fighting without him… and her?

"I've been locked in darkness and abused-"

"You are not the only one who has suffered" Mae repeated.

Hermione's eyes widened unable to believe anyone's suffering was greater then her own.

"We suffer in different ways," Mae continued "I just thought the witch who stood side by side with Harry Potter would still stand strong and proud through it all."

Hermione looked away, lowering her head. "I'm not that girl anymore"

"Where did she go?" Mae asked with exaggerated interest.

"She learnt no matter how hard you fight for what you think is right, evil like him, will always win. So what's the point?" Mae shrugged as Hermione sat back down on the bed again.

"Just to keep living" she guessed.

"What's the point when there is nothing left to fight for?"

Mae wondered whether to continue, she wanted to help rekindle the girl's spirit but not to the point she would try to escape or do something stupid in a possible new found hope. She chose her words carefully.

"To fight for the hope that, it will return; if not in our time then in another's."

"I'm just so tired of pain and disappointment"

"It isn't easy, you know that. You've just got lost along the way. Don't let them get to your heart Hermione. Be strong" she smiled down at the girl. Hermione softly lifted her gaze to the older woman, and slowly, tears prickling her eyes smiled. Just a small one, almost pitiful, yet it was a good beginning.

"People like us are looked upon for strength. Don't break now"

Mae bent down and collected the cold dishes spread about the floor, leaving the fresh food near Hermione. "Try to eat; it will help rebuild your strength." Placing the neglected food on the second bed she sat down to watch Hermione, who begrudgingly picked up the tray with trembling hands and placed some soup on her spoon.

"I don't think I can" she mumbled, feeling her throat constrict.

"Try" Mae said firmly, ignoring the looks of frustration she was receiving.

"I have, my body won't let me. I'm to angry"

"Try harder"

Growling in irritation at being pestered she heavily threw the spoon into the bowl filling it planning on only eating a mouthful to prove a point. She brought the spoon to her lips, painfully slow; finally closing her mouth and pulling the spoon away.

She seemed to have difficulty swallowing but managed it. She gasped slightly when it had gone. A knew colour seemed to rise to her face, surprise at first but then a more relaxed complexion as she added more soup to the spoon and began eating properly albeit at a slow pace.

It was strange how such a simple thing seemed to help reinforce the situation, Hermione thought. The soup was simple, plain tomato yet it seemed to strengthen the feelings of warmth inside. It had been strange, she felt as if she had not be aware of life since her encounter with Blaize's father.

She felt as if her mind and heart had been ripped from her body, the pain to begin with had been beyond words till it settled into a numb thoughtless despair of horror. Fear sunk into the pit of her stomach now as Mae's words penetrated her ears. The woman was right; she had so nearly come to breaking. But after all that she had been through, did she not deserve to finally give in?

For the first time in her life, she felt she finally realized just what Harry had been through. True she had suffered along side him but she and nobody else knew just how much courage and strength it took to keep going. Harry had never given in even when things had failed and turned nasty. He had been close to giving up true but he knew his duty to the world despite it shunning him for a time. She felt mortified of what she had become.

Her spoon was forgotten halfway to her mouth, a tear sidled down her cheek. Mae watched her worried, seeing that she was lost in thought. She supposed this would be the time to know whether her harsh words of help had worked.

Hermione's spoon clanged into the bowl splashing soup droplets against the sheets and her face. Her gaze turned to Mae's sad and guilty.

"He said such horrible things"

Mae looked at her confused for a moment as to what she was talking about.

"It hurts such much that he died like that, not even fighting on an equal footing. Chased like an animal" her voice cracked from tears that threatened to spill further.

'Oh' Mae thought; Harry Potter's death.

"We don't know that's what really happened Hermione. I expect rumours were made to soil his bravery," it was all she could think of to say in reply.

Hermione's look became brighter through her watered eyes.

"I never thought of that" she thought deeply once more and continuing to eat.

"I don't think he died running" she said. Her voice sounded calmer and more resolute. "I know what he was like. Harry would duel him, probably on his own. He would have fought bravely. Maybe Ron got involved, causing him to drop his guard for a split second. Perhaps that is what happened?"

She didn't seem to be talking to her in particular, more to herself. Her voice had a sense of nostalgic quality to it, seeking solitude in her friend's death; having no chance to officially grieve.

"I don't blame Ron of course. He probably went to help Harry. He never did think straight at times" She drifted off the sentence seeming to be unaware of speaking her thoughts. She sighed shortly symbolising a heavy burden she tired of carrying.

"I miss them" she whispered, taking a final spoonful of soup and putting the near finished bowl beside her. The bread had remained untouched, but the soup was a beginning Mae noted.

A silence settled between them unexpectedly yet it felt a small comfort.

"We used to help stop each other from falling. We worked together; we were at our strongest then. Now they're gone, it's difficult to do it alone."

"It's easy to feel alone at times Hermione but you've had it to long. I'm here to talk to now. Although I can't help you out of here, I'll try to make your situation here as easy as I can. Everything will blow over soon I expect"

Hermione doubted it but didn't argue.

"Come on lets get you washed up. After a good nights sleep I expect you down stairs tomorrow morning. I'll send Becky to wake you. Don't worry about the others, I'll invent an excuse. They have no need to learn the truth."

Hermione wondered whether she should tell her about Emily, the other maid who knew who she was but for some reason decided against it.

She nodded at Mae's orders and stood up, unable to explain the appreciation due to everything she currently felling. She felt her hope rekindled for the first time in an age, yet her mind was trying viciously to quench it.

Review! I wanted to go into greater detail about how Hermione was feeling but I was worried it would sound to angst if you get what I mean. I used the other characters i.e. Mae and Lucius to show that Hermione was no longer in the right mind to have her story told. Now things should start to pick up, with Malfoy on the prowl and Hermione's inner strength rekindled; kind of.

I'd like feedback on this chapter as to whether you like the direction of the piece, as I said I found this chap quite difficult. Thank you for previous reviews so many reads yay! Magic-lou xx