As if she, and not Lucius Malfoy, had been caught in an improper act, Hermione reflexively took a step back. No matter when, no matter where - Draco Malfoy always managed to make fear crawl into every fibre of her body within seconds. But this time, to her relief, his attention was focused on his father, who outwardly looked at his son without emotion.

"You're in the way, Draco," he said simply.

Hermione could clearly see that her master did not feel the need to explain or justify his actions to his son. The younger Malfoy was accordingly shocked by the rough treatment. Tense, he clenched his fists, but although it visibly irritated Lucius Malfoy that his son would show such extreme emotions in the face of such a trifle, he remained calm.

The hateful look did not escape Hermione's notice. The hatred was not new to her, but it was new that it seemed to be directed against his own father. Or was it simply horror that Lucius Malfoy approached her in this way? But why then did Draco look at her in disbelief and not at his father? She herself could not believe that she was standing here completely naked in front of the two Malfoys, but that was no real surprise, given her slave status. So why disbelief? And why hatred towards Lucius Malfoy?

Lost in thought, Hermione failed to notice that Draco Malfoy left the bath. It was only the master's annoyed sigh that brought her back to reality.

"There's a shower in the back," said Lucius Malfoy, "you'll find various lotions for hair and body embedded in the wall. Clean yourself up properly."

Hermione had not anticipated this terse announcement at all. Was she really just here to wash herself? Hesitantly, she took a few steps towards the large cabin, but suspiciously turned around again.

Lucius Malfoy seemed to have lost all interest in her, however, for he sat down on a luxurious armchair in a corner of the bathroom and resorted to the Daily Prophet. Frowning - why was there even an armchair in the bathroom? - she turned around again, entered the shower cubicle and closed the milky opaque glass doors behind her.

As bizarre as the whole situation seemed to her just now, Hermione decided to enjoy this hot shower. The short baths in the kitchen's washing buckets made her clean, but the relaxing effect of bath or shower, which was also very important for her feeling of cleanliness, was completely absent.

As soon as she closed the doors behind her, a pleasantly hot, gentle rain began to fall on her. For a few minutes, Hermione simply enjoyed the feeling of real, cosy warmth for the first time in weeks.

"Magic really is great," she murmured softly.

But she immediately regretted having said those words. They remained in front of her, stretched, and seemed to crush her. The water continued to splash down on her, but it was no longer comforting and pleasant.

Magic.

When Hermione had first come to Hogwarts, magic meant freedom for her. New worlds of knowledge, new possibilities had opened up to her. She connected all that was good with it.

The feeling of not being able to breathe enveloped her. It was magic that had killed Harry and given power to a madman for the second time. She herself had lost access to magic - forever. From the central protagonist at the side of Harry and Ron she was now condemned to be a helpless spectator.

The water was still flowing and seemed to want to push her to the ground. In a corner of her consciousness she cursed herself for allowing such harmless thoughts to pull her into such a negative vortex before she saw black.

oOoOoOo

When Hermione woke up again, she was wrapped in a white, soft bathrobe and was laying on the armchair that had magically been transformed into a sofa. Confused, she sat up and looked around. Contrary to expectations, she was not alone: Lucius Malfoy stood leaning against the wall in front of her. For a short moment they looked at each other wordlessly, then Malfoy lowered his gaze, shaking his head.

"Have you forgotten how to take a shower, or do mudbloods simply never do that?" he asked in a cold tone of voice, "You could have told me that taking a shower was too much for you."

Hermione swallowed a harsh answer to this insult. She was too aware that Lucius Malfoy had not taken advantage of her weakness, but on the contrary obviously helped her. In addition, she learned in recent weeks that she could irritate him more with silence than with heated replies.

The expanding silence in the bathroom was abruptly interrupted by the popping sound of an apparating house-elf. "Lunch is served, Sir!".

Lucius Malfoy visibly flinched and threw an angry glance at the disturbing house-elf, after which the latter disappeared again with a startled squeak. For a brief moment, Malfoy glanced at Hermione, then narrowly ordered, "Get dressed and come with me."

She quickly obeyed, then went to the door. To her amazement the door was locked. Confused, she turned to Malfoy, but this time she received no answer. Instead, he simply waved his wand and opened the door.

For a moment, Hermione waited for an explanation, but when she didn't get one, she turned to leave. Her eyes fell again on the bathrobe she left on the sofa, and following a sudden thought, she looked up at Malfoy with a smile. "Thank you".

This time, deliberately not waiting for a reaction, she finally left the bathroom, a triumphant grin on her lips. But she didn't get far. After only a few steps she was grabbed and pressed against the wall with force.

"Don't fuck with me," Malfoy growled. "You're in no position to fuck with me!"

Hermione, who already expected such an outburst, did not bat an eye. "Or what? What threat do you think would work on me? You've already sold my body. My wand was taken away from me long ago. What else are you going to do?"

"You have no idea how good you have it here. You could do a lot worse. Instead of fucking with me, you should be showing a little gratitude!"

Hermione laughed dryly. "I said thank you!"

The grip on her shoulder hardened and Lucius Malfoy stepped even closer to her. "What do you think would have happened if you had fainted in front of someone else? I try to be friendly."

"Why?" Hermione challenged him, "Why are you doing this? Do you really think I believe you are a philanthropist and want to be kind to a Mudblood like me? So why are you doing all this? You're planning something!"

To her surprise, the man before her not only remained silent, he literally froze. Suspiciously, she raised her head and looked for a reaction in his eyes. He looked back, but the expression in his eyes was of no use to Hermione.

"I'll take the silence as confirmation that I've hit the mark," she finally said.

Anger rose in Malfoy's eyes.

"Fine," he hissed and let her go. Wordlessly, he made his way to the dining room without making sure that Hermione followed him.

oOoOoOo

Sighing, Hermione let herself fall on her mattress. The day had been much more strenuous than she'd liked. Not physically, but she felt emotionally drained. The maelstrom of despair that had made her faint in the shower had become so familiar to her that she hated it. She didn't want to think about the situation that way anymore, she didn't want to despair.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons why she sought confrontation with Lucius Malfoy - to distract herself and cover up her own helplessness. But she did not like the result. She served at lunch as usual, but her master kept quiet, just as he had for dinner. Unmoved, he watched his wife's harassment, seemingly overlooking violence and insults against Hermione. Apparently, she hit the mark, Malfoy obviously saw no need to put on a friendly mask any more.

Slowly she pulled the black uniform over her head and reached for the linen bag she had taken from the kitchen and turned into a nightgown. Just as she was about to lie down to sleep, the door to her cabin suddenly opened. Before Hermione could recover from her shock, she saw herself pressed against her mattress and Draco Malfoy's pale face above her.

"Well, was there a little quarrel between lovers?" he softly said to her, "Could you not today satisfy my father's wishes?"

Desperately, Hermione struggled against the hands that pressed her arms firmly to the ground and the knees that pushed her thighs apart.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy!" She hurled a trembling voice at him.

"Guess it didn't work, you sucking up to my father, did it?" he continued unmoved, "Do you enjoy spreading your legs for your enemies?"

As if to give his words more power, he grabbed both her arms with one hand and let the other one slide to the inside of her thighs.

"It is your father who is selling me out," Hermione spat, "I have never spread my legs - and I certainly won't do it voluntarily for any of you!"

"Don't pretend to be so innocent," Draco hissed, "I saw how you tried to wrap Snape around your finger and how you got father to use the family bath today!"

"What do you want from me anyway?", Hermione asked unnerved.

The day had been long and she felt that she was even too tired to be seriously afraid. Her incomprehension of Draco Malfoy's behaviour instead made her angry. "Are you afraid I could harm your father? Harry's dead, Draco. We've lost. Irreversibly. What danger could I possibly pose?"

"You don't seem to care much about that. Do you like the new world order? Do you enjoy being the Death Eater's slut?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? Do you think I enjoyed having my best friend murdered in front of me? Do you really think that I, as the Mudblood, welcome Voldemort's victory?"

For a moment, Hermione thought she could read something like relief in Draco's eyes, but immediately there was only distrust. Wordlessly, she met the suspicious stare - until she suddenly noticed a rubbing movement of the hand on her thigh.

Horrified, she looked down at herself and only now did she realize that her legs were spread wide, that Malfoy's hand was trying to find its way between her thighs. Involuntarily, a whimpering sound escaped her.

"Well, how do you like that, little bitch?"

"Malfoy, please... please just leave me alone!" Horror enveloped her whole body while she tried to comprehend what was happening. She never thought Malfoy was capable of this, even after all the bullying at school.

"Why would you do that? Why should only my father be allowed to have fun with you?" Draco's reply made her stomach run cold.

"Because she's not your property!"

Two pairs of eyes flew up to the door in surprise, gazing at the shadowy figure that stood there.