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His Relinquishment	By : lexiatel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70407 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jk Rowling, I do not make any profit in writing this story what so ever. I am just having some fun.

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AN: Wrote a lot today while Grandma was sleeping. The weather's bothering her joints, she so hardly slept last night. She's funny, she's gained six pounds in three weeks, and now she's decided to watch what she eats. *rolls eyes*

Anyway, here is another chapter. Hope ya likes.

Footsteps approached, stopping outside the door. A key slid into the heavy old fashioned lock; metal clanked against metal. Hermione waited for him to enter, tightening her arms around her knees, bracing herself for yet another one of his scheduled visits.

For the past four days, Malfoy came by once in the morning and once in the evening. Each visit usually went the same way, and it surprised her none when he stepped in, and pocketed the key in his trousers. As with every time he entered her cell, he folded his arms across his chest, looking at her as if she was a child who had done some silly, stupid thing, such as getting caught taking money from her mother's purse.

He nodded his head toward her. "And what role do you wish to be today?" he asked, just as he did every other time.

The first time he had asked her this, she simply spat at him, earning herself a slap across the face. The second time, she didn't even answer him, and Malfoy had yanked her up from her straw 'bed' to bellow in her face, spraying his spit on her during his fit. She had thought his eyes were going to pop out from anger. That was also the time she laughed at him. He looked like such a fool. He did have a serious anger issue that he really needed to address.

She was taught not to laugh at him after that. He had tossed Hermione onto the 'bed' and kicked her repeatedly until she couldn't hold back her cries.

Malfoy sent a house-elf in soon after to tend to her broken ribs. He sure had those elves trained well. Hermione seen three different ones so far since she set foot into the Manor, and not a one said anything to her besides what Malfoy permitted them to.

She felt lonely. She was bored, and tired of trying to come up with ways to escape this wretched life. Hermione was exhausted from fighting. She hardly slept anymore, and when she did, it wasn't for long. She usually woke up screaming, as her mind would not allow her to forget what had recently happened to her.

She was physically and emotionally scarred from that day. She had been a virgin, saving that special moment for the man she would end up loving. And that dream, that fantasy, had been shattered in only ten minutes.

Malfoy didn't seem to care what had happened, but then again, why should he? He wasn't raised to respect women, and he had admitted to her that the only reason he hadn't wanted to rape her in the first place was just because he didn't want her to protest with the activity. Had Hermione been willing, he would have been okay with it.

So now he was trying to get her to submit to him and this new lifestyle of being his 'wife'. Hermione may be married to him (she knew how serious a marriage done by magic was, especially one done with Dark magic. That part was inevitable; there was no way out),but she just couldn't accept it. It had been done without her consent. Without her knowing. It was done to Malfoy, the one man she could never see herself with.

Now she just wanted to know how dark the magic was that was used to force she and Malfoy together. And she wouldn't find out here, locked away in an 8 by 8 prison cell.

Of course she wasn't going to surrender either. Being Malfoy's wife wasn't something she could swallow. Especially the sex part. She was embarrassed. Ashamed. And even if she found a man she could love, she'd never be able to be naked in front of him. Not comfortably. Not anymore.

She was damaged. She was dirty. Raped by a cold-blooded man who had been possessed by an actual monster.

Would she ever be able to get over that awful memory? Who would...? Who could...?

Malfoy hadn't made a move to rape her since he locked her up. In fact, he hadn't mentioned it all since the night they returned. According to Malfoy, Voldemort had ordered them to have sex every night until she got pregnant. This bothered her. Malfoy didn't seem to be one to defy orders from Voldemort. He wasn't a brave man. He was a coward.

"Aren't you going to get into trouble when... your master finds out you haven't been following his orders in procreating?"

Malfoy's eyebrows raised up, caught off guard by the question. That probably was because she didn't usually speak so seriously to him. He cleared his throat and conjured up a chair to sit in then. "So, you have changed your mind then? If you're asking such a... personal question..."

Hermione scoffed. "I'll never choose to be your wife, Malfoy."

"But my slave is okay? You prefer that I own you, treat you like rubbish, and make commands of you?"

"Sounds very much like how you intended to treat me as your wife anyway— I'm not choosing to be a damn thing to you. You're only going to treat me the way you were taught to treat me. Be it wife or whatever you want to call me. You've only placed me in here because I won't agree to actually being your wife. You're angry. Your life absolutely reeks, and you hate me, so you blame all your troubles on me, but I'm not going to feel sorry for you, Malfoy. You dug yourself into this disgusting mess on your own. It's not my fault and it's neither my problem."

He scowled at her and stood up, pointing a finger at her. "You best have changed your mind by my next visit!" he warned her.

She mockingly saluted him. "Can't wait for your next visit then!" Hermione leered.

Malfoy shook his head, disgusted by her attitude and snarled an ugly curse. He hurled himself out of the room and yelled out an elf's name to lock the cell door back up behind, too angry to do it himself.

Hermione was surprised he hadn't used his foot or fist to 'tenderize' her face. She supposed she could consider herself lucky for that.

She laughed at his crazy demand though. He actually thought she was going to change her mind in just eight hours.

But her moment of amusement quickly faded. She balled herself up into the bed of straw and burst out into tears. She was sure what he had planned for punishment wasn't going to be light.

And there was definitely going to be a punishment.

Maybe she had spoken too soon when she had said that she'd rather be tortured to death before she'd accept to being his wife. She was beginning to believe she wouldn't make it that far. It would be easier if she'd just gave up. Less painful, and less traumatic.

But she was stubborn, and didn't want him to get his way.

She also wouldn't allow herself to be a coward. That's not what her parents would have wanted her to do. That's not what she wanted her to do.

Somehow, she had this feeling death was not in her immediate future. Not until she gave birth to the Malfoy Heir: Third Generation Death Eater.

She'd have to keep that from happening.

*/*

God, she was so infuriating! Why did she have to be so bloody stubborn?! Life would be so much easier for them both if she'd just accept her new role. Instead, she was just purposely pissing him off. And Draco didn't doubt that she was doing it in hopes that he would just end it all for her. It was so hard for him to not hit her for her snarky remarks toward him.

And most of the time, he couldn't even manage that.

Draco was tired of fighting with her. He didn't expect her to welcome the situation with open arms, but she was being quite immature about it. And ignorant. Did she not realize how much this marriage thing has changed her lifestyle? He was rich! And not just rich-rich, but filthy rich! Rich enough that any woman would jealous of her. He had millions of Galleons. Their children's' great, great grandchildren would not have to work, and that was before interest earnings and investments factoring in. In interest alone, the Malfoy account turned twice more than what was ever spent.

And the power he had. He was the favourite of his age group. The Dark Lord went easy on him because of his position. He was faithful. He was trusted.

If she would just give him a bloody chance, and stop pressing his damn buttons, she would learn that her life wouldn't be all that bad. He didn't abuse his house-elves. But they understood him, and respected him. They knew their role and that was to serve him. She was his wife, and the Mudblood would just have to learn what that meant.

She'd have to provide him an heir— that was a given. This she already knew. She'd raise him, with Draco's help though, because he was sure she would flood his son's head with garbage. But the Mudblood could do the motherly things for his son, like nurture him, and love him. Just like Draco's own mother had loved him.

It wouldn't be so bad, as long as she could hold her tongue and do as he said.

Like his mother did for his father.

But Draco already knew he wouldn't have that sort of relationship with her. He had dreamt about having the same thing his parents had, and it almost saddened him to think he really had no chance for it. He should had known though. That sort of love was rare, especially in arranged marriages.

If his father was here, he would tell him to suck it up and grow the fuck up. His mother would tell him to make the best of it. So, Draco was trying. He was trying to do both. He owed it to them.

He had decided to aim for a mutual understanding, but he had such temper issues when it came to her. The Mudblood was the only person in the freaking world that got under his skin enough to make him so angry that he'd literally black out. Most of his brutal beatings to her he hadn't even realized he was doing until he'd hear her cry. Not wail. But actually cry with tears and everything. Like a little, hurt child would.

He didn't feel horrid though. By now, she knew what he was capable of. So at this point, she was doing what she did on purpose.

He upped the strength of his anger management potion last night, so he was able to walk out this morning without harming a hair on her body.

But that didn't mean Draco didn't want to shake her until she turned blue.

Currently, he stood at the bottom of the stone steps that lead up from the dungeons. He was propped up against a wall with an arm supporting him. His head was bent low, and he glared at his shiny black shoes, breathing slow and deep to calm himself.

He tried thinking up a nice thought to keep his mind of her behavior, only to picture her in her sleeping form. He found it peaceful, watching her sleep. She tended to sleep well, but only if he put her under (which he had to do in order to fuck her).

Yes, Draco had chosen to do the 'deed' while she slept, knowing she'd never just let him do it. Potions were still brewing before he could actually make her a willing participant. He couldn't wait for that. He anticipated a little reciprocation on her part. It had been far too long since a woman had pleased him, and as his wife, that was one of her duties: to please him.

The first time he had fucked her while she slept was extremely awkward for him. He had such trouble. But if he didn't do it, and if the Dark Lord found out, he'd be in deep shite. So like any other time, he did what he had to do.

Draco did it right there on the straw bed. He had gotten a rash on his arms and hands from it the next day. And his dick burned with fire, still having issues because of the wounds, but he concentrated on the heat of her pussy, the flopping of her breasts as he quickly moved in and out. He wanted it to end as quickly as he could.

In the middle of the task, he heard her moan, and had stopped his movement immediately, frowning at her scrunched up face. His dick deflated as if it were a balloon. He cursed himself under his breath, panting. If he was Blaise, he'd be cumming by now, with that stupid, twisted, disturbed face she wore, but he was different.

He slowly moved to get of out her but hastily stopped when she moaned again. A warm, liquid, then coated his dick. He knew what it was, and he stared at her in complete awe.

She had cummed. On him. While he was fucking her. Had he been bumping her clit all the while without knowing it?

Her cunt was real slick now, and she felt so fucking sweet inside. Her muscles were working wonders on him, and Draco heard another moan erupt from her mouth. His dick expanded inside her. The pain of it was gone now and he moan himself, burying his face into the cleavage of her breasts, thrusting his hips greedily against the Mudblood.

If fucking the Mudblood was like this all the time, he could get used it. Easily.

And he did. For three days straight. Now he looked forward to fucking her each night. It was the one thing going right with this whole marriage sham. He made it a game— how fast and how often could he make her wet. He wanted her wet because, for some unknown reason, her pussy juices eased the wound pains of his cock.

Besides, it just made fucking her much more pleasurable for him. And this way, she wasn't crying. She was enjoying herself. Even if he was doing it while she slept.

That was okay. She didn't even know he was doing it. Which meant she was not being traumatized by it. It was one less thing she could be upset with him about.

But he was so desperate for more. He wanted a blow job. A real one that didn't involve raking teeth. And it seemed that every time he fucked her, that want grew into a need.

He also wanted her out of that bloody cell. He wanted to take her to his room, to his bed, and finally just... make her his wife. He wanted to dominate her. To show her who really was in control. His opinions about her seemed to change by the actual day, and it seemed that he was growing fond of her. He wanted to hold her to him, and never let her go. He didn't love her, but there was something there... Draco couldn't quite place it. Yes, she made him angry to the point where he'd hurt her for it, but he didn't want to do it. The fucking Mudblood just refused to play nice, and it made him upset.

"I think... I might need your help..."

Dark eyebrows lifted up in surprised. "You're really asking me for help?"

Draco sighed deeply, unsure if he really wanted the man's help or not. "I don't know what to do anymore... I... need to show her that being my wife is not going to be as bad as what she currently is."

"Ah, so you've finally changed your mind about her? You've fucked her, didn't you? You fucked her for real?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I've no choice, you know that."

Blaise grinned. "But obviously you haven't kissed her."

"No." Draco shook his head. "I only do what I have to."

"Oh, you just must kiss her!"

"I am not going to kiss her."

Blaise shrugged. "You just don't know what you're missing, mate."

"Is there anyway to get her to listen— besides mutilating a person she loves, which she doesn't even have."

"Oh, contraire, my little, worried friend..." Blaise's eyes lit up. "You're forgetting about the nit."

"The nit..." Draco thought it over. "Yes, he could work, couldn't he?"

Blaise set a hand on Draco's shoulder, nodding slowly. "Oh, yes, he can. And I got a swell idea too."

"I don't want any blood," Draco said firmly.

"Course not."

"Or screaming."

Blaise scoffed. "Now you're just ruining my fun."

*/*

Hermione tried not thinking much about what was going to happen when Malfoy returned. It had her worried, and she bit her nails from the stress of it. She thought about giving up. She craved a decent bath— Malfoy had purposely been withholding them from her. He must have known she enjoyed them.

She missed the good food too. All she was being served the last few days was soups, bland oatmeal, and sandwiches. She wanted something more, and knew he was treating her like this on purpose.

Oh, but she just couldn't give up! She was a Gryffindor, and she was strong. She was Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of the Era! She couldn't let a slimy, good for nothing Death Eater get to her.

The wait was over several hours later as she heard the footsteps come forth again. By the sound of it, there were multiple people coming. She took deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating.

Zabini walked in first, a smile on his face. "'Ello, sexy, little lioness," he greeted.

She didn't answer him, looking at a stain on the wall.

"We have a special visitor for you, Mudblood," Malfoy announced, causing her to shift her eyes. They widened as she saw the tiny body.

"Samual?!" she gasped before bursting into tears. She couldn't believe it! He was alive, and he was okay! They didn't kill him! He was dressed in an old set of stained robes, but he looked healthy and clean besides that. Not starved or abused!

"Hermione!" the six-year-old cheered.

Hermione hauled herself up to feet to hug him, but Zabini caught a hold of her arm and harshly pulled her snug to his body. "Not so fast, Mudblood," he said into her ear. "I hear you'd rather be my best mate's slave than his wife. Well, I have something to tell you," he whispered darkly. She squeaked as his fingers trailed her along the length of her neck, barely touching her, but it was enough to make her skin break out into a series of goose pimples. "I've just bought the right to your body for an hour, isn't that great?" Hermione felt his hot tongue dip into her ear, making her shriek out a protest. His hand clamped tightly around her throat. He tripped her, pushing her down to the ground, pinning her beneath him. Zabini's hand found the seam of her robes, and he began groping her.

"No!" She tried throwing him off to no avail.

"That just excites me more, little lioness," he murmured into her ear, giving it another lick.

"Stop hurting her!" Samual cried.

Hermione's eyes found Samual's. Tears filled the little ones. He struggled against Zabini's wife, who had her arms wrapped around him to keep him in place.

"You hear that, Mudblood?" Zabini said into her ear. "The child cries for you. It would be a shame for him to witness such a mature thing, wouldn't it?"

"Don't make him watch…!" Hermione pleaded. The situation was bad enough without traumatizing Samual.

"Maybe he'll learn something." Zabini sat up and brought her hands up above her head, holding them in place with one of his own.

"Malfoy!" She found him leaning up against the doorway, watching the scene with narrow eyes. "You can't possibly find this acceptable?!" Hermione gasped as Zabini encased her nipple into his mouth. "STOP IT!" She shut her eyes tightly, clenching her fists, and kicking her knees up, kneeing him in the back

"It's actually very acceptable," she heard Malfoy say. "For a slave. Not so much for a wife, but you refuse to be my wife, so I thought I'd make good use of you this way. Zabini paid a very hefty amount for you."

"Yes, but that's because I want to fuck your every orifice."

Hermione's eyes flew open to see Zabini cockily grinning at her.

"Yes, your arsehole is not going to be a virgin anymore, lioness."

"Malfoy…!" She looked at him in desperation. "Don't let him…!"

Malfoy tossed his hands up. "There's nothing I can do about it. Unless you were to… accept the role as my wife. Fucking a married woman is a crime these days."

This had been planned… She now doubted Zabini was even going to rape her— well maybe he would, if she said no. She certainly didn't want to find out if he would or not!

Zabini's thumb was taunting her nipple, making it stiff. She sucked in a breath and clamped her teeth. "Alright," she hissed. "Get this dirty fucker off me, Malfoy."

"Tell me who you are to me, first," he said flatly.

Hermione scrunched her face up and groaned in annoyance. Zabini was now rolling her nipple between his fingers, whispering things to her. Things that made her stomach sick.

"Sexy, little slut you are… Mmm… I can't help in a way but want for you to say no to him… What do you say, Mudblood? How about you let me play with you a little, I've surely been dreaming about it enough."

"I'm your wife, Malfoy! Alright?! Are you happy now?! Now please! Make him stop! Please…!" Hermione sent him a pitiful look, hoping he'd have some sort of softness in that black heart of his. She blinked back tears, and pulled at her hands to break free, but Zabini had such a tight hold on her. His teeth sank into her flesh, biting her nipple, making her yelp.

"Alright, you can stop groping my wife now, Blaise."

Hermione had never been so happy to hear Malfoy say anything.

"Such a shame," Zabini growled seductively, releasing her. "Just think about this though: anytime you refuse to do what Draco says, I will have that little nit—" he pointed to Samual. "Do to me what you won't for Draco. Including intimate things. Are we clear?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. "No, you can't!"

"Yes. Oh, yes, I can. You see, Mudblood, he was just given to me today. And I can do whatever I want with him." He leaned down to where their noses were almost touching. "Which could include a fatal, gruesome, slaughter."

Her hand flew up and smacked his cheek. Then another. And another, until Zabini caught her wrists, and laughed. "Go kiss your husband, Mrs. Malfoy. He definitely deserves it!" He stood up to his feet, bringing her up with him and then pushed her toward Malfoy who caught her. "Kiss her, Draco. The Dark Lord will surely love to know you've done it. Married people kiss, don't they, Bernice?"

The woman looked away, blushing.

"You won't regret it, mate." Zabini winked at his friend.

"Just shut up about it," Malfoy grumbled.

"You know I won't until you do."

Malfoy eyed Hermione over before stopping his eyes on her lips.

"Don't," Hermione said, making an attempt to get out of his grasping hands, sensing he was going to really do it.

"Oh, do," Zabini urged him on, excitement filling his eyes. "You know you want to, Draco. You know you've been thinking about it all day long!"

Malfoy's hold on her got tighter as he felt her pull away. He pulled her to him and crashed his lips to hers, muffling her groaning protesting. She fought him, flailing her arms against his body, but he only deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

She paused her fighting, caught by surprise with the intrusion. Her pulse raced. She heard Zabini's encouraging words as he 'helped' his friend through the process.

"Isn't she lovely, mate? Doesn't she taste fabulous?"

Malfoy moaned in answer. He actually moaned! His hand snatched a hold of the back of her head to keep it still. His tongue was exploring every inch of her mouth. It puzzled Hermione, because she actually found it… enjoying.

Oh, but she just had to be insane, right?! She didn't ask for this kiss! He didn't ask her if he could kiss her! He forced his lips on her!

And yet, it felt so good. He tasted… so wonderful; sweet and minty. His tongue was soft, but bold, darting this way and that, tangling with hers. Her knees buckled. Her breath was gone; he had taken it from her. Stolen it. Along with her sense of mind. All sense of control was gone.

"Congratulations are in order," she faintly heard Zabini giggle.

Hermione didn't even care about him anymore.

Review Reponses:

ArielKidd: Aww, thank you so very much. It still shocks me that people think my writing is so good. :)

pickles87: Hehe, thanks! My 'roomie', I liked that!
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His Relinquishment