Sighing, Hermione let herself sink onto a stool. After meeting Snape, she had spent hours cleaning the kitchen - longer than usual, as her thoughts kept wandering back to the strange meeting. What was the meaning of his behaviour? Only recently he inquired about her well-being, today he came down to the kitchen just to squeeze a sponge with water over her head at the end. What was he planning?

With a groan she reached for a knife and began to cut a slice from the old loaf of bread that lay before her. Snape confused her. While with Draco Malfoy she didn't know why he hated her, she could at least trust that he did. His father seemed to be indifferent to her and only calculated how much she was worth, his mother also showed her nothing but hatred.

Her former Potions professor, on the other hand, was a mystery. She was convinced of his evilness, convinced of his loyalty to the Dark Lord. His murder of Dumbledore spoke for itself and nothing could ever justify the act. And yet, doubt and uncertainty gnawed at her. What games was this man playing with her?

The kitchen around her was cleaner than it had been in years. Lost in thought, she had cleaned every corner, made everything sparkle and shine, whatever was possible. She had no duties outside the kitchen and was only too glad to have had a whole morning's rest after Snape and Malfoy disturbed her after breakfast. She liked this time she had for herself, enjoying a slice of bread with cheese and a cup of tea, even if she had to use the leaves for the third time. There were few days when she could be so undisturbed. And the time was limited, because in half an hour at the latest the house elves would return and begin the preparations for lunch.

But the rest did not last long. Just as she was about to take the first bite of her bread, she heard steps coming down the stairs to the kitchen. Hoping that it was not the son of the house again, she turned her gaze to the entrance - and full of relief she discovered Lucius Malfoy.

"You are relieved to see me?" the older wizard asked in surprise, "To what do I owe this honour?"

Blushing, she lowered her eyes to the bread. Hermione did not want him to misunderstand the situation - but neither did she want to tell him about her fear of Draco.

Her silence amazed Lucius Malfoy all the more. What was she so afraid of? And why wasn't she afraid of him? With slow steps, he approached her and sat down on a chair on the other side of the table.

Wordlessly, he stared at the witch before him. His eyes fell on the bread he had bitten into and the tea, which was now hardly warm at all. No wonder that her once attractive figure was now almost unrecognisable. She definitely didn't eat enough. Lucius wondered whether he should give her more, just in case Severus might find her appearance no longer pleasing.

"Is this your lunch?"

Finally, the girl looked up. It was obvious she didn't understand the question, after all, it was he who had prescribed her meals. Since she had been with them, her lunch consisted of a slice of bread with cheese and a cup of tea, if any was left. For breakfast there was a bowl of porridge, for dinner soup made from the leftovers of the family's meal or, if nothing was left, another slice of bread. Lucius had to admit, he never really spent time thinking of what she might need to survive when he told her that those were her meals. He didn't care what she ate.

A sigh escaped him - of course his question was incomprehensible to her. Wordlessly he stood up and went to the cooling cabinet next door. He was sure that the house elves stored supplies there, even though he himself had never entered the room before. Indeed, he quickly found what he was looking for and returned to the kitchen.

"Here," he said, while placing a bottle of fresh milk in front of her, "you will have an extra glass of milk every lunchtime from now on!"

Hermione nearly choked on the last piece of bread. "What?"

"A glass of milk. For lunch and dinner. Every day. From now on!" Lucius repeated slowly and in a tetchy voice. Why couldn't she just accept kindness when it was offered her?

Still suspiciously, Hermione grabbed the bottle, got a glass from the cupboard and poured it for herself. She sniffed at it for a moment, but since she couldn't detect any suspicious smell, she gulped it down hastily. It had been weeks since she last drank milk, and she knew what a positive effect it would have on her body. She was all the more tormented by the question why Lucius Malfoy suddenly developed an interest in her well-being.

He was already turning away when the horrifying realisation hit her. "You sold me!"

Malfoy stopped and turned back to her. "Your mind is really sharp. A small, trivial clue is enough and you draw the right conclusions."

A cold hand wrapped around her heart. He had indeed done it. He did not even deny it. He had sealed her fate, just like that. What had been a distant fear of the future until a moment ago had suddenly come very close.

"To who?"

"To someone who can be useful to me."

"Anyone can be useful to you, that's no answer!" Hermione hissed, "I have a right to know what kind of horny cock I'm about to have to put up with!"

Amused, Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Your language leaves something to be desired, little Gryffindor."

"I've had enough of you playing games with me. Tell me who it is. You owe me-"

"Nothing," he interrupted her, "I don't owe you anything. You're lucky I gave you any warning at all. Now go back to your position and be good."

Again, he wanted to turn to leave, but once more Hermione stopped him. Her little hand lay firmly on his arm and showed him that she was no longer willing to be submissive and restrained.

"I can't have a slave who doesn't do what I order. Lunch time is coming up and you are hanging here whining on my arm," he lorded her over, "you will not stay in the kitchen today, since you will only make a mess here anyway. Come along!"

Before Hermione realised what was happening, he freed his arm, grabbed her hand, which held it before, and pulled her out of the kitchen behind him. Too surprised by what happened, she was unable to resist the rough treatment. It only took a moment, however, before she understood where her Master was taking her. He pulled her towards the stairs to the wing with the family's private quarters. She had never been there before, but she knew that the bedrooms and three luxurious bathrooms were in the upper south wing. What was she supposed to do there?

oOoOoOo

Draco Malfoy clenched his fists. He had not liked the scene he just witnessed between his father and Granger. Even though he didn't understand what was being said, he saw his father offering milk to the Mudblood. And apparently, he took some back talk. But what was worst of all - Draco knew exactly where the stairs led that his father dragged the slave to. The thought of what he might be doing with that woman in a bedroom made him sick.

Quietly he sneaked after them - annoyed by the fact that he suddenly became a spy in his own house. Since Hermione Granger had moved in with them, his life was a living hell. No, if he was honest with himself, it had been before, but through her he was reminded day by day how great his hatred was. And he hated her with all his heart. When he saw how his father - ignorant, naive, maybe just blind - treated that particular Gryffindor, how he was almost kind to her, how he didn't seem to worry about the future, he felt the world go dark around him.

Surprised, he suddenly realised that his father did not open the door to his private bedroom, but went one step further. What was he planning, what was he doing there with his slave of all places?

oOoOoOo

"Undress," Lucius Malfoy commanded with a stern look.

When the girl made no effort to obey the order, he pulled out his wand and magically made her clothes disappear. She shot him an accusing look, but Hermione seemed unwilling to bow to humiliation and beg for anything.

"You have a beautiful body, Hermione."

Even this purred compliment and the emphasis on her first name did not bring the blond man any reaction. His slave stood before him, immobile, untouched, and stared defiantly at the ground. It seemed as if she had decided that everything that happened to her body had nothing to do with her.

He stared at her uninhibitedly and repeated the compliment silently to himself - she actually had a beautiful body, that of a young woman, though a bit too thin and with a sickly skin colour. Moreover, her hair seemed dull and not very lively - the otherwise so unruly curls hung down desolately.

He approached her and grabbed a strand of her hair. Still he could not provoke a reaction. Lost in thought, he led the hair to his nose, stared her right into the eyes and smelled it. Only now did she lift her gaze and look at him in disbelief. Satisfied to finally have evoked a reaction, Lucius stepped closer to her until their bodies almost touched.

He sold her virginity, but that did not mean that she was totally off limits until the prize was claimed. He could already imagine putting her stubborn mouth to good use.

He was just about to order her to get down on her knees when they were rudely interrupted.

"What the hell are you doing, Father?"