I really hope Lucius isn't too OOC! I just wanted to write about how he might feel like secretly on the inside. I feel like as cool and collected he is, deep down inside hes just a pathetic man. I wanted to maybe explain why Lucius is always so cruel.

Please tell me guys what you'd like to see in the future.

-oooo-

She walked over to the small metal tub. She had already felt filthy, and she was glad she had an excuse to bathe now. Not because he told her to but because she wanted to.

Thankfully the water worked. A steady stream of warm water poured into the tub.

As she stripped out of her uniform the bath had filled almost to the top. She cautiously climbed in, trying to cover herself in case someone was watching her. She would protect her dignity for as long as she could.

By her standards the water would be freezing cold, but Hermione was just thankful for even the slightest bit of warm. The bedroom was freezing and her school sweater wasn't much warmth anyways.

With each dunk into the water, crusted hairspray stripped away. There was no shampoo to ease the tangles so she made do with her fingers, yanking and pulling apart intertwined knots of hair.

Rubbing away the last of her makeup that hadn't already come off, she let out a sigh. She never liked makeup.

The feeling of it, no matter how often she tried to get used to it, felt foreign to her. She hated it because it felt like she had to lie to the world for acceptance.

What she did love about it was she could hide her flaws. She loved how it could cover the bags under her eyes from long nights studying, or the blemishes that refused to go away. The makeup made her feel like someone else, someone more confident and more beautiful. She was happy this way but inside it ate her up.

The real Hermione Granger was hidden under a mask of ivory L'Oréal and Avon blush.

Would any of those boys really love her if they could see her true self? Would they love the long messy curls that tangled into an unfixable mess at the slightest blow of wind or blotchy skin that flushed red so easily?

Before makeup and hairspray no one talked to her, no one would pay attention to her. She was a wallflower in a sea of roses; this thought always brought Hermione to tears.

The matter of the fact was Hermione was no goddess or lonely beggar, she was herself and she was beautiful in her own way. While some might laugh at her jungle of unruly brown hair others would find it enticing.

She had no time to think about these things, she hurried and washed herself with the water, scrubbing with her bare hands. Maybe he'd give her some sort of shampoo or soap next time.

As the water got colder it became darker with filth, and she exited the tub. She felt slightly better now, but reality came crashing down. She was still in this strange room, locked away by a man who was clearly out of his mind.

Hermione ringed out the water in her hair and shook off dripping water that ran down her skin.

She tipped the tub over so that the dirty tub water could pour down the drain. She crouched down on the floor watching the water flow away into the darkness. She wanted to flow away with it.

She used vanity mirror to clean herself up, although it was broken she had to make do with what she had. Since there was no towel she rang out the water in her hair that she missed with her skirt of her school uniform.

Hermione gazed at herself in the mirror. She looked at how pale she was from the cold, why she was as white as a sheet of paper. Her eyes were still puffy from crying and she had just noticed small scrapes on the side of her cheek. She wanted to hide her face from embarrassment.

"This is insane… He can't keep me here forever."

But for now she would be forced to be faced with her true self wither she liked it or not.

-oooo-

He would be back any minute now.

Hermione was already dressed and waiting for him on the bed. She had put on the clothes he'd given her earlier.

It was a knee length black dress with long sleeves and mandarin collar, black work tights, short cut bloomers and a pair of black boots. She kept the bra she was already wearing; she would not march out into the unknown without her breasts being covered. She felt her outfit was itchy and outdated, but figured it was for the best. From what she knew about him she was glad it wasn't a princess leia costume.

Elsewhere, Lucius was in his study.

He paced back and forth, regretting what he had done. The sound of his leather boots hitting polished wood floors echoed all around him.

"Should I obviate her?" he already asked himself this many times. Lucius knew that even if he did she would still be in that room dressed up in maid's clothes, and then he'd still have to explain everything to her. Even if he tried to play the nice guy surely she would see through his façade.

What to do now was the real question. He'd already threatened her and called her repulsive, he couldn't waltz on into the room and act like her savior now.

He sits back down at his desk and runs his fingers through his long platinum blonde hair.

His actions were desperate, like an addict trying to get his next fix; he didn't think he just let lust consume him. Lucius's attempts to make himself believe that he did no wrong were stupid. He'd got greedy and obsessive, and to think it was all over a muggle girl he'd never actually spoken to.

The embarrassment on his face turned to anger, "How dare this filthy little muggle brat think she's worthy of my affection. Women would fall to their knees at the sight of my gaze and yet she feels like she's special because I have taken her. She's obviously left me no choice."

Truth be told he did not know what he wanted. He wanted to love, and he wanted to be loved himself. Nothing was the same after Narcissa had left him. During the proceedings of their divorce he'd visit the muggle world often to watch Hermione. He'd imagine conversations in his head and the logical debates they would get into.

This was all just a daydream and nothing more. Still nothing can fill the hole Narcissa left in his heart. So what he craved now more than anything was to have passion and love once more.

But this was not Lucius; he would not run into a muggle girl arms with affection and take long walks on the beach with her. He convinced himself that she was not worthy of his affections.

The hour he gave her was almost up and it was time to retrieve her. Lucius got up and stood there for a moment staring down at his feet.

A plan quickly formulated into his mind. He would break her, push her to the limits so that whenever he showed her a kindness she'd come crawling to him in hopes of more. "Anyhow, she deserves to be punished; it's her fault for taunting and teasing me for so long. I will make sure she feels as tortured she made me."

The doors of his study swung open and he marched out down the corridor, the way he carried himself was dominate and powerful.

After a time he made his way into the cellar into the old abandoned maids quarters and to the door. He was hesitant to see her; he felt scared but had no reason to.

Lucius proceeded anyhow, gripping the door handle and turning it.

Hermione's heart stopped and so did Lucius'.