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A Mudblood's Place	By : WeatherTheStorm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any of the characters. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
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- 5
(A/N): I'm terribly sorry for the chapter delay. I've had an awful time with my internet, but it's sorted now so I should be back to posting on a relatively normal basis. A big thank you for all those that have taken the time to review so far, you have all been awfully kind and supportive. The musical inspiration for this chapter is by Trivium- Wake (the end is nigh). Anyways enough dribble, on to the story!
Silence had followed Malfoy's visit, both from him, and Ron, it seemed he had kept his word. Ron's visits had stopped abruptly, even the death eaters he had employed on the estate had seemingly vanished. The manor had become eerily silent. Not that silence bothered her, just without the normal bustle this large empty home could be quite lonesome and cold feeling. Without occupants, her chores had dwindled down to almost nothing, she still had Malfoy's private quarters and loo to look after, but the house elves she worked beside kept up with the dusting and cooking which left Hermione an awful amount of free time on her hands. Normally she might have considered that a blessing in itself, but she had come to rely on the back-breaking work to keep her mind occupied from the lurking amount of trauma she refused to deal with.
One couldn't dwell if you worked yourself to exhaustion. In its absence, there was nothing left to fill the void and she caught herself drowning in the memories. Had there been anyone left at the manor beside Malfoy to keep eyes on her, Hermione wouldn't have dared to wander about but lost in her own thoughts, her feet had begun carrying her from room to room. No real destination in mind. For once in a long, while the memories she found herself lost in were ones that made her soul feel a little less heavy, and brought a small smile that made her haggard face look a little less worn.
Sprawled out, she lounged peacefully. The grass prickled her bare legs as the hot summer sun beat down from overhead and warmed her skin, darkening the dust of freckles across her dainty nose and cheeks. The sounds of raucous laughter and shouts of quidditch friendly at the Weasley's floated in the distance. An open copy of " " by Virginia Wolf laid parted across her budding chest as her fingers absently stroked the hardback cover. Hermione never could quite understand the appeal of hurtling at dangerous speeds on a flimsy piece of wood after a ball, but this...this was her heaven. she could still taste Mrs. Weasley's fresh-squeezed strawberry infused lemonade on her tongue, dancing a delicate ballet of tart and sweet on her pallet. She was somewhere between dozing when a girlish roar of smug victory pulled her from her sleepy lull and she sat up slowly to watch Ginny descend from the sky, her signature Weasley locks, wild around her like a fiery halo.
She reminded her of the goddess Brighid with the tower of flames upon her head in all her feminine ferocity. Ginny Weasley was a force to behold. She smiled broadly at her friend. Even though she couldn't be bothered with the sport herself, she couldn't help but be feel a sense of pride for her younger friend. Making her way over to her, Ginny flopped down in the grass next to her, her pretty face flushed and sweaty as she grinned at Hermione. She watched as the pale beauty tugged off her worn leather gloves and deposited them on the ground as she sighed heavily, blowing a stray lock of her hair out of her hazel eyes. Her voice came out in a rasp, raw from having to yell over the rushing wind to be heard.
" One day those idiots will learn to stop betting against me, Harry already owes me a new broom kit, and Ron has racked up three months worth of my chores."
Snorting with laughter Hermione marked her page between the aged pages, gently closed her novel with care and set it in her folded lap, forgotten for the moment. Her gaze fell on the retreating forms of her friends as they trudged to the kitchen to restock on the calories they had burned from trying their hardest to outmaneuver the ginger princess, shoulders slumped with exhausted defeat. Ginny had certainly run them into the dirt. Funny enough she didn't feel one ounce of pity for them.
"That very male ego will be their downfall, you haven't lost a match to them since you were 11."
Ginny's grin was contagious as she followed her bushy-haired companions' line of sight, swiping the pooling sweat from her brow as she lingered on the familiar mop of unruly black hair trailing behind the rest at a slower pace. It was painfully obvious that Ginny would never grow out of her schoolgirl crush for Harry. She had to admit, as far as good matches went, Ginny could've done much worse. Harry was attractive, in a rugged messy way, not to mention she was the kindest person she had ever met especially for one that carried the weight of the world on their shoulders as he did. She gave Ginny a sly sideways glance.
"I kind of enjoy their ego, it makes the victory so much sweeter to watch them crawl off to lick their wounds...plus, think of all the free time ill have on my hands not scrubbing the dishes or de-knombing the garden"
Hermione pressed a finger to her lips playfully, acting as if she were in deep thought although unable to hide her knowing smirk. Teasing the witch, she hummed softly, her finger giving a light tap-tap against them as she turned to penetrate the redhead with a look, a mischevious glint in her swirling chocolate-colored depths.
"Hmmm.. yes all the free time in the world, for secret snogs and heavy petting with boys that are tragically brody and have startling green eyes."
Blushing from her toes all the way up to her ears, Ginny watched as Harry disappeared from view into the house, embarrassed that she had not been quite as discreet as she thought she had been. Not that she had been trying to keep secrets from her best friend, but she had been wary of her brothers finding out that she and Harry had taken things to the next level. Pouting, Ginny gave a playful scowl.
" Too bad I'm stealing all your precious time for secret snogging and heavy petting with boys that are tragically stupid and have the emotional range of a teaspoon"
Ginny offered her a wink, and Hermione barked with a sudden fit of laughter, her eyes watering as she gasped, trying to catch her breath. Curling her arms around her middle, she fell back into the grass, staring up at the white fluffy clouds as she composed herself. It felt good to laugh that hard, and she briefly wondered how many more carefree days they would have like this.
Her memories of that last summer at the Weasley's that had been unburdened by the shit show that was to come was bitter-sweet. It made her chest ache to remember how in love and full of life they had all been, how innocent they the moment of silent contemplation her mind drifted briefly to the blond. He had, as she had expected, from the beginning been hard, and unforgiving with his expectations, but as long as she kept to her duties and maintained a flawless execution of them, he left her be. She had expected unnessicary cruelty. That he would go out of his way to torment her. Much to her surprise, outside of her chores, he had ignored her altogether. Hermione supposed that Malfoy's new blushing bride, Astoria, had a lot to do with the man he had grown into vs the evil little ferret she had known in adolescence.
The whole situation was rather sad if she were honest. Hermione hated to admit it, but if it hadn't been for him and Astoria's betrothal she would have suffered the same fate as the rest of the resistance, strung up for Fenire and his pack to shred apart piece by piece. She felt a certain amount of guilt that she had escaped that torment whereas her surviving friends hadn't been so lucky. A certain amount of guilt, that she had felt a small amount of relief. She couldn't dwell on that though, she had no control over the situation. If she were really honest, Astoria had been rather lovely. She had been, as any true Slytherin was, cunning and ambitious, but she had also been warm and kind, Gliding around in her pretty gowns that gave her the appearance of floating. She understood why Malfoy had fallen so completely in love with the petite witch, she had been the warmth that filled up this cold home and made it livable, she had been the calm to his storm. Even Hermione had been giddy with excitement when the couple had announced the growing addition to their family. She didn't mind that she would most likely be a live-in nanny on top of her other duties, changing dirty nappies was nothing really if she got to coddle a sweet little babe and hold his tiny little hand as she rocked him to sleep or read him stories.
Fate had been a cruel mistress, however. no matter what she had instructed the elves to fix for Astoria, hearty meals, rich with healthy fats and vitamins, she had whittled away to nothing. Her bones had become brittle and her porcelain skin bruised with the gentlest touch. Hermione had even brewed the most advanced potions she could for morning sickness to help her mistress retain the nutrition her body desperately needed. Nothing had worked. Hermione had dreamed often about how beautiful their little bundle of joy would have been, a perfect combination of Malfoy's white-blond locks, rosy skin, and Astoria's soft features. He had been just as she had imagined, except instead of rosy cheeks he had been born grey, without the flush of life. Her heart had broken for Malfoy. Long after the medi witch had left Hermione took great care to change the bloody sheets without disturbing the peaceful looking witch, and dressed her in one one of her finest robes, before tucking her baby in her arms as if they were both merely sleeping. it had soothed some of her own grief to care for them one last time.
Lost in her thoughts, Hermione's feet had carried her all the way downstairs and into the dining room, where obnoxious high pitched giggles floated from the adjoining tea room and startled her from her daze. Hermione wasn't one for eve's dropping, but she couldn't help but be curious as to who the giggles belonged to. Like a shadow, she pressed herself to the wall out of sight, slowly inching her way to the open doorway, her ears strained to the conversation at hand
"Mrs.'s Macdougal...as flattered and honored I am that you've considered me a match for your daughter Morag's hand in marriage...As you know.. I've only just lost my wife and son to childbirth... I'm not sure at this ti- " "Oh nonsense Mr. Malfoy, this is a perfect time to consider a new match, Morag would be the perfect young lady to not only soothe your grief but honor your family with a...living heir.."
Hermione flinched at the dig to Astoria, these women were ruthless. Rage rolled through her and settled in her stomach for this woman, and she bit down on the soft flesh on her lip trying to keep her presence hidden, how dare that evil cow to speak so callously! Malfoy may have been the most loathsome little cockroach she had ever had the displeasure of meeting, but Astoria was a far better woman then Morag, who in her opinion was just as dull, dimwitted and hideous as a fully grown mountain troll.
" Forgive my nephew Dormida, this has been a rather stressful time for him what with the late Mrs. Malfoy's failure.. and discovering a traitor in our ranks..."
A cold chill rolled down her spine. She would have recognized that voice from anywhere...Bellatrix..the hateful bitch! She was if possible worse then Voldemort in her opinion, just her voice made Hermione feel violently ill. She found her fingers trailing up her the sleeve of her left arm to rub over the raised skin there. Sometimes it would itch and burn as if the wound were still fresh. It had to be part of the dark magic intertwined with the cursed blade. A scar that would never fully heal or fade. She made herself scarce whenever Bellatrix was at the manor, only leaving her cellar if she absolutely had to and even then she took great caution to avoid the monster of a woman.
" We shall give your proposal a great deal of consideration, but as you are aware my dear Draco is a rather well saught after match for many young witches... In the meantime how about we schedule a luncheon between us girls and my nephew and go over some of the finer details before we make a decesion.."
" Oh of course dear. The tea was lovely, I shall wait eagerly for your owl Mrs's Lestrange, and Mr. Malfoy"
Hermione recoiled from the wall in a panic as she heard chair legs scraping against the wooden floors. If she was caught snooping, especially by Bellatrix, she would be worse then dead. Scrambling, she sprinted as quietly as she could, trying to keep her footfalls as silent and stealthy, her heart pounding out of her chest with fear. She couldn't hear anything other than the rush of blood in her ears. Spotting a nearby nook, she managed to squeeze her small body behind an ancient suit of armor as footsteps followed close behind her sudden retreat. She waited with bated breath, hoping she hadn't made any noise. They seemed to be in no hurry, and Hermione let out a quiet sigh of relief that she hadn't been noticed. Malfoy's voice carried just a few feet from in front of where she stood hidden making her nervously shrink as close to the wall as she could get, her ears still trained on the conversation at hand.
" Oh, by the way, Mrs. Macdougal, please give Morag my thanks for her package of pastries, and my well wishes, we will be in touch soon"
Although polite, Malfoy's voiced sounded strained now as he spoke, his disgust barely veiled as he addressed his unwanted guest. She couldn't blame him, she would have been beyond furious if she were him. She didn't understand an Aristocratic society. For people who cared so much about pure bloodlines and procreating for the sake of carrying on the family legacy, they lacked any sort of affection for their offspring or the people they had them with. There was no such thing as empathy among the elite, especially now, you either did as duty commanded or you were marked as a stain, a weakness that needed to be weeded out.
"Of course my lord, thank you for replying to my owl so soon, hopefully, the next time we meet it will be with wedding bells in mind"
Without pause, the front door opened with heavy protest. Malfoy was in no mood to allow Mrs. Macdougal to linger any longer. She was quite sure if she opened her mouth again, he would hex her saggy tits right off her chest. Hermione shivered as all the warmth around her was sucked out the front entrance, and she felt a bit of her panic subside as the horrid shrill of the elder woman's voice called her final goodbyes. Her greedy eyes lingered on the blond adonis of a man as if he were a piece of meat and Bellatrix followed behind her, pausing to give Malfoy a last word. She whispered quietly, though still managing to put a sever amount of venom in her words.
"Draco... the next time we have tea with one of your proposals, either you shut your fucking trap or you try a little harder to suck up this sappy nonsense about Astoria, you will not embarrass this family, is that clear!?"
Hermione felt another ache in her heart, how could someone be raised by people like this and not turn out to be a monster? She could almost feel sorry for him. Malfoy's teeth ground against each other, his jaw clenched tight as he swallowed his temper. His hands although hidden behind his back, clenched and unclenched into fists, itching to lash out. He stood rigid, the muscles in his shoulders tight with strain even though his face remained passive. He almost looked bored but his eyes were murderous. His knuckles had turned bone white with the force in which he was squeezing his fist as he drawled out calmly.
" Of course Aunt, do take care"
The door slammed shut suddenly in what she supposed was Bellatrix's face with force, the frame giving a violent shake. A weary sigh heaved from the blond's lips, his long slender fingers brushing through his silky tresses. It had gone silent as a tomb other than his ragged breaths. He didn't move for a while, simply sanding there boring holes into the wooden door where his Aunt had just stood. He looked manic, his eyes wild, cheeks tinged pink with anger as his wand hand trembled at his side, and Hermione swallowed. It was frightening to see him look so human, his emotions out in the open on display.
"It's awfully rude to eve's drop Granger, yet it's almost as if you have a death wish lately..."
Startled, Hermione stumbled out from behind the armor clumsily, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment from having been caught after all. Her body gave a tremble as she wiped her sweaty hands over the fabric of her dress, something that had become a habit as of late whenever she was nervous. She hated that she had become such a wimp... a cowering spineless wimp. What little Griffindor pride she had left hidden in her heart was dying a slow shameful death. Trying to hide the quiver in her voice, she lifted her chin proudly, mustering the little courage she had to meet his eye.
" I..I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to spy...I heard your aunt's voice and I was trying to stay out of her sight, you know how she feels about mud-blood servants. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your company with my presence."
A lie, a rather obvious lie in fact. Yet she had the good conscious to look down humbly trying to appear as nothing but his obedient servant, not the snotty little know-it-all she still was underneath her subservient facade. So far Hermione had managed in her entire time at the manor not to directly anger Malfoy, but as his head whipped around to stare at her, she clamped her mouth shut so hard her teeth rattled in her look that he penetrated her with was downright scary, the sneer he hadn't used on her since Hogwarts, curled at his lips making him look vicious and the energy around him crackled with unbridled fury. Her little white lie had snapped the little restraint Malfoy had holding back all the raw anger, and Hermione dropped to her knees. Her body went rigid, placing her palms flat down on the hardwood as she made herself as small as possible. His feet were heavy as he rounded on her, his voice conveying a deadly calm as he spoke.
" Don't you dare insult my intelligence you fucking Cunt. You may be a little broken, but don't forget I know who you really are! If I ever catch you snooping around, spying on my conversations again. I can swear to you with the very darkest part of my heart, that I will fuck you bloody and then peel your skin from your muscles piece by piece until you beg me to Avada you. If you think im bluffing just try me...I've had enough of you conniving lying bitches to last me a lifetime."
Tears stung in her eyes, she had no doubt of Malfoy's sincerity. He was teetering a fine line of losing himself completely, she could feel it in her soul. She remained still, letting her stinging eyes drift closed. She knew better than to be this careless. He paused his rant to squat down in front of her, his breath ghosting across her face. Hermione flinched as he reached out gripping her chin between his thumb and index finger, tugging her face upwards almost gently. She couldn't help but notice how unusually rough they felt against her skin, for someone who had never known a day's worth of hard work. This was the second time recently that he had willingly touched her, and she hated that it wasn't altogether unpleasant. His tone took on a gruff pitch as he spoke again as if he were struggling with some internal thoughts.
"look at me Granger, I want to be sure you're listening when I tell you this..."
Fluttering her lids open she met his gaze head-on. Her dark lashes were impossibly long, framing her wide doe eyes that reminded Draco of warm hot chocolate. She watched as a strange emotion flickered in his own silver pools again for a moment before it disappeared again. Leaning down close to her face to where he was merely a few inches from her, his warm breath tickled her cheeks. She could smell the rich earl grey tea he had been drinking earlier, and she felt a strange flutter in her belly at his close proximity and how warm he felt against her skin. He whispered now as if he were a lover, a heady sultry tone that did not match the words that flowed from his full pink lips.
" I'm not sure what kind of ideas you've had lately crawling around under that rat's nest, but let me be perfectly transparent. I do not give a single fuck about you... you are nothing. The only people I have ever cared about are rotting in the ground, and the only reason I have tolerated the trouble you have been causing is that I don't have the energy in me to worry about your bullshit. This is your one and only warning, If I glimpse your bushy head anywhere that you are not supposed to be again. I will not hesitate to cut you down. Do you understand me?
Despite the warmth, she had felt just moments before, Hermione's teeth chattered as a cold empty feeling replaced it in her knew everything he said was true, and yet it hurt a part of her to hear it out loud. She couldn't tell if she was feeling awful from his threats or the fact that she had disappointed him, which was insane. How could she have felt anything but hatred for the man who held her captive in squaler...but hadn't he been kind as well? Hermione forced her head to bob that she understood him, her voice squeaking out like a terrified mouse.
" I understand sir, It will never happen again"
With that, his hand fell away from her chin and she watched as he rose to his full height, his eyes swirling as all the anger seemed to deflate from him, leaving him looking haunted and stretched thin. He continued to study her for a moment before he seemed to catch himself. Striding right past her, he resembled his godfather, as he menacingly swept from the room like a giant black bat, his expensive robes billowing behind his wake. Collecting herself, Hermione decided it was best to stay out of his way and she slowly made her way to the staircase to her cellar. Her nerves were shot. It left her feeling exhausted and confused. Finding her way to her makeshift bed, she deposited herself on the scratchy straw ungracefully and curled into herself, drifting off to a night of restless sleep, ignoring the hunger pains that ate away at her.
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A Mudblood's Place