Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A World Not Fit To Live In	By : snowblind12 & Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 78125 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: These characters and the Harry Potter world belong to J K Rowling and her publishers. I make nothing from this story and I own none of it. It is based off the work of JK Rowling.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
AN: Same warnings as prior chapters. Abuse is a huge part of this story, however, it's not the only dynamic that will occur. The plot of this story is much more than what these first few chapters have shown. It's been less than 24 hours that Hermione has been with the Malfoys. We are still setting the scene and laying the ground work. :)
A huge thanks to my awesome and amazingly talented co-author, LissaDream! Please check out our other co-authored tale, Master Mine. We are having soo much fun writing these stories together. She's become such an important person in my life. Love you, LD!
Thanks for reviewing! ! It's the only way we know you like the story and want us to keep going!
"Miss! Miss! Wake up, Miss." Hermione woke with a brutal start. It took her a minute to remember where she was. She slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position from the cool tile floor. The room spun as her head pounded. She was literally shaking with her fatigue…and cold. She was so cold. Bloody fuck, I just want to sleep! Her hand immediately went to the gash on her forehead where she could feel dried blood and a huge knot. "Ouch," she cried out quietly. She was shivering and her teeth chattered, causing her head to hurt even more. Pulling the towel tightly around herself, she slowly got to her feet. The incredible urge to pee drew her to the toilet where she once again experienced intense burning as she emptied the small amount of urine from her bladder.
She could hear Tinny rummaging around her room but was too tired to be bothered with caring or curiosity. Despite having been drenched in Draco's shower, she felt dirty. Filthy, actually. Replaying what Draco had put her through, she shuddered with disgust. She could still feel his abusive hands on her skin, his prick touching her face. Even if she had a brillo pad, she wouldn't be able to scrub it all away.
She turned on the shower and stepped into the wonderful, hot water. Leaning against the tiled wall she relaxed as the warmth of the water seeped into her bones. She lathered up a flannel with the new bar of rose scented soap from the soap holder, quickly washing her face, neck, chest, and stomach. She winced as she gently wiped between her legs, her abused flesh was too tender to tolerate the harsh scrubbing she desired. She scrubbed down the rest of her body to her toes before lathering her hair with the provided shampoo and conditioner. "Rise and Shine Shampoo. Provides volume for limpness and shine for dullness," she muttered, reading the bottle. She shook her head in dismay. She could only imagine what her hair would like when it was dry. The last thing her curls needed were more volume. The thought quickly left her mind however, she really didn't care how she looked.
Despite the warm water, she couldn't quite shake the chill she felt. She had barely dried off before Tinny was in her closet picking out a dress for her to wear. "Master's will want the young miss looking pretty. Young miss will wear this." Maybe if she hadn't been so tired, or if she was feeling better, she would have gasped like a normal teenage girl when the beautiful set of robes was enchanted to float in front of her. As it were, however, she wanted nothing more than to stay naked and slip between the sheets of the large four poster bed that was screaming her name.
Before she could even think about getting dressed, she needed to dry her hair and comb out the knots. As much as she hated the imposing little beast of a house elf, she could almost have kissed her when Tinny stepped into the bathroom and snapped her fingers, instantly drying Hermione's hair. Another snap, and once again the elf had done up her hair in a long, soft braid. It was such a simple thing for her to do, yet Hermione felt it was the only kind thing that had been done for her in weeks. Even if it hadn't been done for her benefit – she was certain Tinny was merely making her presentable to please her masters. She wondered if the elf might be able or willing to help her in other ways as well.
"Tinny, you wouldn't happen to have any bruise paste or pain potions, would you?"
The house elf surprised Hermione when she looked at her with sympathy. "Master Draco tells Tinny no potions for Miss. Miss is to be left as is. Only the Masters can approve potions and treatments for young Miss."
Hermione huffed in frustration even as tears pricked her eyes. She hated him. Oh, Gods, she hated him. "That's okay, Tinny. Thank you."
Hermione slipped the dress on and looked at herself in the mirror. It really was stunning. It was made of a rough woven linen, dyed a deep, dark blue. Not as bright as a royal blue, but not as dark as a navy. The tops of the long, flowing sleeves capped her shoulders and dipped into a layered scoop neck. The sleeves themselves were split and flowed almost to the length of the dress hem. They were connected just above her elbow with a gold brocade. The dress itself was A-line, flowing to the floor to pool at her feet with a short train in the back. Just under her bust was a woven belt that knotted at her sternum, the tails cascading down her torso to end at the juncture of her thighs. It was similar to the colors of the brocades on the sleeves. She turned so her back was in the mirror, noticing the same scoop in the front trailed over her shoulder blades.
It was grotesque to her, wearing such a beautiful garment over a body marred with so many contusions and abrasions. The left side of her face was dark purple. She had a gash on her forehead and huge, dark circles under her eyes. She thought back and realized she had probably only slept a couple hours during the night. She remembered it being after eleven when they finished dinner. A jolt of nausea hit her as memories of all that transpired after dinner flashed through her mind. It had truly been disgusting and beyond horrendous. She felt as if it couldn't be real. It couldn't possibly have happened. This had to be just a nightmare and she'd wake up any minute. Her eyes looked at her reflection. She swallowed the hard lump of tears in her throat. This isn't a dream Hermione. The bruises in the mirror, the pain between her legs, and the tenderness of her entire body...it screamed the truth. She was living a true nightmare.
"Comes, Miss. Yous be late if we don'st hurry." Hermione knew the elf spoke the truth because she could feel her anxiety and heart rate climbing as her body reacted to the pull of her eight-a.m. summons.
Tinny grabbed her hand and Hermione was apparated to a beautiful, large dining room. As her vision adjusted to the change in environment, Hermione was shocked at the extravagance. The ebony table could easily sit thirty people and took up the expanse of the room, but so many other things pulled her attention. The ceiling was covered in gilded molding done in gold. A large oval mirrored the placement of the table below and three chandeliers in gold and strings of crystal threw beautiful rainbow patters of light through the room. Around the oval was an arched rectangle that met the corner molding. The walls were painted a deep navy, with the same gilded gold trim making up pillars that ran in intervals down them until it reached a rich, chiseled marble wainscoting that started at her hip level and flowed to the floor. The flooring itself was a deep, dark parqueted wood. There was an archway that led to a sideboard done in the same ebony as the table, laden with crystal goblets and a silver serving set. A huge Persian rug in greens, and golds, and blues ran underneath the length of the entire table while crystal sconces dotted the pillars at repeating intervals. At one end of the room stood an enormous stone fireplace. The most amazing part, however, were the large windows, encased in the same gilded golden trim. They let in so much beautiful, natural light that it caused the room to glow and feel warm. She imagined at night, the room would have a very different, formal feel.
Lucius and Draco were already seated, reading the Daily Prophet. Upon her entry, they both stood. Once again behaving as though they were gentlemen. Lucius was at the head of the large table on the right. Draco was positioned to his right and there was a third setting for Hermione to Lucius' left. Unfortunately, it left Hermione facing Draco. Just don't look at him! It was as they had been seated the night before. When Lucius started to walk towards her chair to pull it out for her, she grabbed it and sat down quickly, scooting it back to the table before he even had a chance to assist her. She turned to him, noticing the slightly frustrated look on his face. Her tone was scathing. "Please don't bother with the charade, Mr. Malfoy, there are no gentlemen in this room."
She could hear Draco let out a snort as his father returned to his seat. "In this house, Miss Granger, good manners will not be forgotten or ignored. You will allow us to carry out the expected behaviors a gentleman bestows upon a lady in a dining room," Lucius replied with a note of condescension in his voice. He was seated and sliding his chair back towards the table as a different house elf appeared, placing a covered plate in front of her.
She couldn't help the retort which slipped from her lips. She stared at him, her expression flat. "Oh, I must have missed the chapter in Magical Manners and Etiquette when it says that raping and sodomizing your guests after dinner is polite and well-mannered behavior. If only I still had my copy, I could refresh my memory," she deadpanned.
She noticed the slight uptick to the corners of Lucius' mouth. Draco was chuckling from behind the Daily Prophet which he was holding up to read. "Oh, Father, she's a riot. I may have to send the Dark Lord an extra pensieve memory to thank him." Draco dropped the paper and looked at her maliciously. "He's probably looking at the memory of my morning shower right now. The least I can do is keep them coming."
Hermione's expression was full of loathing. She felt nauseated as she imagined Voldemort – or anyone, for that matter – watching her being raped. Just as that unwelcome sensation came over her, the house elf snapped his fingers, causing the three covered dishes in front of them to display what would normally be a lovely breakfast. French toast with powdered sugar and glazed strawberries, scrambled eggs, sausage, and assorted cut fruit were all displayed beautifully before her.
Draco ignored his plate, still watching her reaction. Clearly enjoying her misery, he expanded on a bit of information she had not picked up on the night before. He spoke in his signature, drawling tone. "The Dark Lord sends his regards, by the way. He and his…guests enjoyed the show you put on last night. You remember the mirror?" He paused, waiting for her reaction. A slight frown pulled down the corners of his mouth when she refused to even look at him. "Anyway, it was charmed. Because of it, many were able to take in your…. charms."
What? Hermione could practically feel the color drain from her face. Her cheeks heated with mortification as she remembered what Draco had done to her in front of that mirror. She closed her eyes, fighting the anger and the rage boiling. Trembling as she remembered more. Not just what he did to you, but what he made you do to yourself! Completely horrified, it took all her strength and determination to maintain her restraint. She wanted to jump across the table and strangle him. She wanted to kill him. She never thought herself capable of killing, but now? Now she was positive that she could.
She knew better, though. She was no match for these two wizards. Not only were they physically stronger than her, they had wands. She was sick, exhausted, and had no wand. Draco would beat her or hex her to a pulp. She took a deep breath and looked up, meeting his eyes straight on. Her expression was flat, betraying no emotion. Fuck you, you piece of shit! You will not get a rise out of me! Under the table, she dug the nails of her right hand into the palm of her left as she imagined his eyes being gauged out of his evil head.
A malevolent smile on his face, his eyes stayed on hers. It was a play for Dominance between them. After a minute, he rolled his eyes and laughed knowingly. Picking up his fork, he began to eat.
She continued to stare at him. He ate as though he didn't have a care in the world. She looked away with disgust. She had no appetite and would not even look her plate, staring into her lap instead. She could hear cutlery on plates as the wizards at the table enjoyed their beautiful breakfast with vigor.
"Aren't you hungry, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked softly as he wiped his mouth with a beautifully embroidered linen napkin.
Hermione didn't look at him and replied with a note of hostility. "Strangely, my appetite has vanished." She could feel Lucius' eyes on her.
"Miss, Granger, look at me." His voice had a note of concern as he made his demand, not unkindly.
Having no choice, Hermione moved her eyes to his. She watched as he took in the sight of her face, eyes lingering on the gash over her eyebrow and the large bruise on her left cheek. Being that she was sitting on his left, he was probably just now really seeing it for the first time. It had been rather dark in his room earlier. Besides, Draco had slapped her again since then. The bruise was much more obvious now.
She was surprised to see what looked like worry and a touch of disbelief on his face. The expression morphed quickly into one of indifference as he cleared his throat and shot a contemplative look at Draco before picking up his fork and shoving a bite of egg into his mouth. He seemed to be deep in thought as he continued his meal.
Hermione kept her eyes on him as he had yet to tell her otherwise. She felt tears spring to her eyes in frustration. Being controlled like this was awful. Not having free reign of what her body did was unbearable. Unable to take it anymore, she asked through clenched teeth, "Mr. Malfoy, may I please have permission to look elsewhere?"
He stopped chewing and looked at her in surprise. It took a second for comprehension to hit. "Yes, yes. Of course." He waved his fork lightly as he continued. "Please, feel free to look around, wherever suits you." She immediately moved her eyes to her lap again as a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. She wiped it discreetly, but couldn't help it as another escaped, and another. Merlin, but she was exhausted. She was not a crier, not normally, anyhow.
"Jeez, Granger. What the fuck are you crying about now? No one's even touching you!" Hermione looked up into the sneering face of the man she hated more than anyone in the whole world. Draco was looking at her with impatience and rolled his eyes as he went back to his paper and his breakfast. She chanced a glance at Lucius, catching yet another concerned look on his face before he quickly returned to his paper, as well.
Hermione didn't answer Draco. Instead, she moved her focus back to her lap and tried to calm her emotions. In a way, the ferret was right. Stop crying, Hermione! Enough of the self-pity! She let out a sigh and picked up her fork, realizing that starving herself would only make her feel worse. She took a bite of the French toast, it practically melted in her mouth. She forced herself to eat slowly, as she suddenly felt starved once the first bite had dissolved. After she finished a piece of toast and couple bites of egg, she found she couldn't eat anymore. Not only that, her fatigue was dragging her down. She just wanted to go to her room and sleep. I know I would feel stronger if I could just rest.
It was a short-lived possibility. She heard the sound of rustling papers and looked up to see both wizards put down their newspapers. She hoped they had activities to occupy themselves that did not involve her.
"So, I have my morning board meeting at Malfoy Enterprises and then a lunch meeting at the ministry." Lucius' eyes were only on Draco. The older Malfoy didn't even spare Hermione a glance. "What are your plans for the day?"
Draco shrugged indifferently. "Not much to do today, really. Pans said she might come over, but I don't really have the energy. She's an animal." Draco said the last part with a smirk directed at Hermione.
Lucius sighed heavily. "Really Draco. One would think you were raised in the gutter. Must you talk in such a way?"
Draco grinned. "Well, I just want Granger over there to feel at home."
Lucius tossed his white linen napkin on the table as he stood. "See if Severus can make us some more bruise paste. I believe we are out." He paused looking at Hermione. "Clearly, we will be needing more."
Draco stood. "I'll see if he and his pet can stop by for a visit. I'm sure Granger would love to see her old Professor." He looked at Hermione. "Wouldn't you, Mudblood?"
Draco started to walk away from the table and Hermione stayed still and quiet. She simply wanted to be forgotten. She would go to her room, hell she would sleep right here in this chair.
"Come along, little Mudblood. We wouldn't want you to get bored."
Hermione internally whimpered and then warily stood. Her lower back was really starting to hurt and her legs were aching – not to mention the UTI. Draco was walking fast, her legs struggled to keep up with the pace he set.
He looked back at her with impatience. "Merlin, you're slow. Keep up!"
She rubbed her cool arms as her legs began to move faster on their own accord. She followed for what seemed like forever. They walked down a long hall and passed what looked like a library and then a large, cavernous room. A ballroom perhaps? She spotted a narrow set of stairs on her left that led upstairs. Draco kept straight as they passed more closed doors before making a left and leading her down another long hallway. Merlin, this place is monstrous. She would need a map if she were ever allowed to wander. Allowed to wander? She internally shuddered at the frustration of that thought.
After passing more rooms and closed doors, and taking one flight of steps up at some point, they finally came to a room Hermione recognized. The Drawing Room. She instinctively reached for her forearm where the scar spelled out 'Mudblood' in small writing. She had nightmares about this room and what had happened in it. It was ironic that the room no longer held her worst memories. She had been tortured in this room, yes, but she had escaped. She had been rescued. She had been with her friends and Dobby had…
Her eyes began to well at the memory of the loss of Dobby. Merely weeks later, she had lost Harry and Ron as well. A tear escaped and she wiped it quickly.
"Ah, yes. I see you remember." She looked up to find him watching her curiously, a slight leer on his face. Hatred once again overtook anguish, and she stared back at him defiantly.
His leer turned into a malicious smile as he met her mutinous eyes. He then laughed, like he was amused. "Oh, Granger. You are just too easy to goad." Looking away, he let out a sigh as he walked to an area in front of the fireplace. He gestured around the room. "The entire marble floor needs a good polishing. This spot right here, though? It just won't come clean."
He looked up at her, mock frustration and concern on his face. "The floors in this room are beautiful, don't you think?" His eyes shot to the expanse of marble at his feet. "So, it's unfortunate this spot is marred with a blood stain. Mudblood blood to boot." A false comprehension came over him as he mocked her. "Oh, that's right! It's your filthy blood that has permeated this floor and will not come up."
He shook his head, looking at the floor again, and spoke as though he were at a loss. "Mudblood blood is just like the Mudblood it comes from. Impossible to completely eradicate…sort of like…," He looked back up, his grey cool eyes meeting her fawn brown. "…cockroaches, wouldn't you say?"
Hermione closed her eyes, once again forcing herself to maintain control. Her body trembled with suppressed rage. If she lashed out, he would beat her or kill her. She needed to keep a cool head. Ignore him, Hermione!
"Tinny!"
Hermione's eyes flew open as the small elf popped into the room. She bowed low. "Master, Draco…sir."
"Tinny, the Mudblood needs to clean her mess. Provide her with cleaning cloths, soap, and water." He looked back at Hermione. "You will clean the floor focusing on the stain, and then you will clean the rest of the floor, every nook and cranny. Twice. After that, you will polish it. If you finish before someone comes to fetch you, you will polish again. And again. I want this floor to shine." He started to step away. "I will come for you later or I will send Tinny. You are to continue cleaning and polishing until you are retrieved. I will inspect your work."
He watched her for a reaction, cocking his head to the side slightly. When none came, he continued. "Let's hope you are still the hard worker and over achiever you used to be, or you will serve…a detention?" He smiled at is joke. "I like that. Detention for Miss Granger. It has a nice ring to it."
He started to leave the room but stopped and looked back at her, as though he had suddenly remembered something. "Oh, and I'd hate for you to ruin that dress. So, I think you should take it off." He watched with glee as she sighed, unzipping the dress behind her and letting it fall to the floor before stepping out of it. He just couldn't humiliate her enough.
Unbeknownst to him however, it didn't faze her at all. What was the point of upsetting herself because she was unclothed? It wouldn't bother her anymore, not after the past sixteen hours of her life. God, is that all it had been? She was left standing in a nude colored lace bra and panty set. His eyes blatantly ogled her chest and then moved between her legs. He rearranged his crotch slightly and sighed. "Sorry, darling. I really need to save my energy for Pans." His eyes shot up to hers. "But I'll let you fuck me tonight if you ask nicely."
And then he was gone. He turned and apparated, leaving her alone with the house elf. The elf picked up her dress and said, "Tinny will be right back." With a pop, Hermione was alone. She looked around, taking in the vast, cold room. The last time she had been here, she hadn't really had the chance to look around. She snorted at the thought. Writhing on the floor in utter, awful, unending agony makes you fairly unobservant.
The room was large and had been cleared of all furniture and rugs. Most likely this was so she could do her "job" properly. The marble floor was black, veined with greens and blues and creams. It was cold, dark, and unfeeling. She figured they must be at one corner of the Manor because there were windows facing the South and East. Huge, latticed windows, framed in white, that went from floor to ceiling and streamed in the morning light. She counted ten. Feeling grateful she didn't have to clean them, she continued to look around. The walls were wallpapered with silk that picked up the greens and blues in the floor. They were trimmed at the ceiling and floor with white woodwork. Interspersed throughout the room were massive, white, ornate, stone pillars. The marble of these pillars was white, veined with cream and silver. They had square bases.
Opposite of the East windows was a balcony done in the same white marble of the pillars. On the opposite side of the opening was another balcony. It was one story up and carved from what looked like a darkly stained mahogany. She moved over to the lower balcony and realized it looked over the ballroom. Turning back to the drawing room, she looked up. The ceilings had to be at least twenty feet high. They were plastered with an ornate geometric design, and stamped. She craned her head back further and smiled. Her first genuine smile in days. She would never forget that ginormous chandelier for the rest of her life. A circular, black wrought iron piece with huge, glass sconces. It was a shame they had been able to repair it. She would have liked to see something of the room permanently destroyed because of them.
She looked to her right. Yes, I remember you. The ornate, white marble fireplace was massive and beautifully carved. It needed to be in order to fit the room. It was bookended with double pillars which were smaller than the massive ones scattered through the room. They supported a thick, deep mantle. Then, the pillars continued from the top of the mantle all the way to the ceiling. She remembered staring into it as Bellatrix had tortured her. The walls held portraits, some of them clearly very old. She felt exposed as the figures within them began moving amongst the frames. She could hear their whispering. As her eyes scanned the paintings, she froze when she saw a face she recognized. The thin, pale face, blue eyes, and blonde hair of Narcissa Malfoy watched her for a moment before turning away. She exited the portrait completely.
Hermione paused, wondering about the matriarch witch. She didn't know how Narcissa had died. She hadn't even known the witch was dead until the day before. There was the unmistakable pop of Tinny's arrival, then, and her thoughts were pulled from the portraits.
"Tinny has brought Miss cleaning cloths, bucket with warm water, soaps, towels, and polishing cloths." The elf set the items on the floor in front of Hermione and then watched her, curiously. Hermione let out a huff and then dropped to her knees. The dark marble floor was cold and hard and she knew it would wreck her knees. She tucked a cloth under each knee and then picked up a third, dipping it in the bucket.
Tinny gave her a contemplative look and then snapped her fingers, turning the cloths under Hermione's knees into small pillows. Hermione let out a gasp and looked at the small elf. Tinny was watching her without expression, but her ears were twitching. Hermione smiled at her. "Tinny, thank you."
With a pop, she was gone. Hermione looked at the floor in front of her, focusing on the spot Draco had eluded to. She couldn't see how the floor in that spot looked any different from the rest. She soaped up the rag and began to wipe the floor. When she pulled the cloth back, it was still perfectly white. The floor didn't even have dirt on it. She huffed in irritation as she got to work.
It seemed like hours later when Hermione heard voices. Her face was wet with perspiration, her body moist with its exertion, and she could smell her own sweat from the hard labor. Draco's command had given her body no choice but to scrub hard. Her shoulders, arms, and back ached and screamed in protest. The hair from her braid that was touching her skin was saturated. Despite this, she was so cold. Absolutely freezing. Chills had wracked her body consistently for the last hour. Gods, she needed to sleep. Just to rest for a little bit.
"Granger's here? Why?" The unmistakable, nasal voice of Pansy Parkinson echoed from the hallway, her tone incredulous.
"The Dark Lord gave her to father and me to use as we please." Draco's voice was haughty and bragging.
Hermione heard their footsteps and voices coming closer.
"Well, what do you do with her? What use could she possibly be?"
"Oh, this and that." He responded with a bored tone. "You know, we've only had her since last night."
When she heard the sound of their shoes on the marble floor right behind her, she turned to see the shocked face of Pansy. "Draco, where are her clothes?" Pansy didn't acknowledge Hermione and didn't look her in the eye. She was too busy taking in Hermione's appearance. Hermione stood on her knees and looked down at herself. The skin-tone lingerie was practically see through now that it was wet. Her nipples were plain as day.
"No point in her ruining a perfectly good dress, Pans."
Pansy kept staring, her mouth hanging open. Then, comprehension dawned on her unremarkable features. Pansy's eyes shot to Draco. "Are you fucking her?" she screeched. Hermione winced at the awful sound, but smirked when she noticed Draco's shoulders had tightened imperceptibly.
Draco shot Pansy a bored look as he waved his wand at Hermione. Hermione had been about to answer Pansy's question in the affirmative when she found she couldn't speak. Damn it! Draco had cast a silencing spell on her!
His voice sounded offended. "Fuck that? Are you kidding?" His voice purred as he looked at Pansy adoringly. "Now Pans. Why would I touch that, when I have you?"
Pansy, her brain clearly as vacuous as Hermione had always assumed, smiled shyly at Draco, blushing. "Well, you can't blame a girl for asking."
"Oh, Pans. You're the only witch for me." He smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "Didn't what we just share in my room prove that?"
Pansy's blush deepened and she smiled. "Yes, that was lovely."
She sighed and looked back at Hermione. "Still, can't you at least give her a pillowcase or something?" Draco laughed loudly, clearly finding tremendous humor in that question.
"What a great idea, Pans." He turned back towards Hermione, eyes sparkling evily. "Tinny!" he called out.
Tinny appeared with a pop. "Tinny, bring the Mudblood a pillowcase to wear."
Tinny's face flashed with a look of incredulity and then quickly changed to indifference. "Yes, Master Draco." She left with a pop.
While the elf was gone, Pansy hesitantly walked towards Hermione, looking her up and down. "Well, she's really a skinny little thing, isn't she?" She let out a huff and stood taller, looking down her nose at the Muggle-born witch. "Stand up, Mudblood."
Hermione looked at Draco to see him nod and then stood. She was so sore and stiff from being on her knees for so long that she hobbled and almost tripped. Pansy's hand shot out to steady her, but dropped Hermione's arm instantly at the contact. Her eyes widened and flew back to Draco's face. "She's positively burning up, Draco!" Wiping her hand on her skirt as if it were now covered with an infection, she stepped back. "She has a fever!" She turned away, walking to the other side of the room quickly. "Oh Merlin, what if she's contagious?"
Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to face the blonde pureblood. "Pans, why don't we leave the Mudblood to her chores. We'll go outside in the garden; would you like that?" Pansy agreed demurely and they started to leave, saying nothing else to her. Neither even turned to look at her as they left.
As soon as they departed, Tinny reappeared with another pop, handing Hermione a pillow case that had been quickly altered to have a hole for her head and arms. She shrugged and slipped it on. At least she was more covered, maybe it would help warm her. After Tinny disapparated again, she got back to polishing the floor.
Hermione wanted to collapse. Without a clock, she couldn't be sure, but it had to have been upwards of seven or eight hours since Draco had brought her here. She hardly had the strength to wipe her brow with her arm, but just managed. Beyond exhausted, she had a hard time focusing her vision and her body was so sore she almost couldn't move. To stave off the force of the slave binding, she persisted in small circles, scooting forward slowly to each new section. She had completed the scrubbing twice, as directed. The polishing work was done, but because of the binding, she was on round three of it. Draco had said she must work until he or Tinny retrieved her.
"Tinny!" she called out for the millionth time. Frustration coursed through her when no sound emerged. Fucking little ferret forgot to lift the silencing charm! She wanted to scream and yell but she couldn't. She wanted to break something but she could hardly move. Too exhausted to cry, and frankly cried out anyway, she simply went back to cleaning, the bond giving her no choice.
Hearing footsteps approach, she looked up hopefully, only to see Lucius looking down at her with a confused expression. It wasn't Draco coming to retrieve her, so her body was forced back to work. Her shoulders and arms were so weak, she could barely move the cloth on the floor. Her head drooped, as her neck and shoulders didn't have the strength to hold it up. Her gaze stayed on the floor beneath her.
"Miss Granger, stop."
Without the compulsion of the slave bond, Hermione felt her utter fatigue even more cruelly. She collapsed in a heap at the blessed command to stop and whimpered silently at the new torment coursing through her.
"What is going on here? Why was she left like this? Where is Draco?" Lucius' eyes quickly darted from Hermione to the house elf.
Tinny's voice shook and she cowed at the anger displayed and the sharp voice of her master. "Tinny was told to leave young Miss be until Tinny was told to comes get her, Master Lucius."
Lucius looked back at Hermione, his eyes taking in the pillowcase she was wearing and shaking his head. "Hermione, why didn't you call for Tinny? Clearly you needed to stop. She could have sent word to Draco."
Hermione looked up at him, embarrassed and agonized. "I couldn't!" she exclaimed, only no sound came out.
Tinny let out a small gasp.
Lucius looked horrified for a split second before concealing it behind a mask of stone. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he cursed. He waved his wand at Hermione. She touched her throat. "I tried to call, but..." Her voice sounded very weak and raspy. She closed her eyes. There was no way she was going to be able to get up from the floor.
Lucius looked back at Tinny, not waiting for Hermione to finish her sentence. "Get her cleaned up and dressed. Severus will be arriving soon for dinner." He sighed looking back at Hermione, shaking his head. "Give her pepper up of you have to. I need to find Draco."
Tinny had Hermione cleaned, shaved, buffed and primped in no time. Hermione didn't bother fighting it, she didn't even speak. She was simply a doll, a rag doll, being moved from here to there, being prevailed upon. Tinny had, indeed, made Hermione drink the pepper up potion. It made her more alert but did nothing for her tormented body.
The elf put the same dress on Hermione that she had worn for breakfast, only she added a silk overlay that matched the vibrant blue perfectly. It draped over the dress beautifully, like a robe. It had clearly been made for this very purpose. The dress looked much more formal, now, and when the elf placed a beautiful choker on her neck with a large sapphire as a charm, the look was complete. Hermione couldn't help but do a double take in the mirror. She still looked tired, and her face still had the nasty bruises and cut above her eye, but she looked fairly presentable, considering.
The elf grabbed her hand. Once again, the pull of Apparition caused Hermione to flinch. It was so much more comfortable and natural when one Apparated oneself as opposed to being side-alonged.
Hermione opened her eyes and found herself in a sitting room. It had a masculine feel with its dark leather furniture, bookshelves, and earth colored wall coverings and draperies. Lucius stood beside the large fireplace, a fire raging within. The sound of wood popping pulled Hermione's mind away, taking her to happier memories of sitting by the fire in Gryffindor. Her attention was quickly pulled back to the present when Draco and Severus both stood upon her arrival. Draco had been sitting in a wingback chair to the right of the fireplace and Severus on the large sofa facing the mantle.
"Ah, Miss Granger. Come have a seat." Lucius spoke gesturing to the other end of the sofa from where Severus had been sitting. Hermione slowly walked towards the three wizards, her focus on the floor in front of her. She was willing herself not to collapse. Her legs were trembling. They were so sore and the heels Tinny had put on her were impossibly high. Wobbling a little, she made her way around the sofa and sat gingerly.
She didn't make eye contact with any of them, keeping her eyes on the floor. She had no wish to speak or interact. That included doing so with her old professor. She could feel his eyes on her, but would not give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. It was his fault she was in this horrible position, he was the one who had created the awful binding potion.
It was a movement and a small gasp that grabbed her attention. It came from the floor to the left of Snape's feet. Hermione chanced a glance from her peripheral vision. A flash of red hair surprised her and forced her to turn her head all the way. Her jaw fell open, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. There on the floor, kneeling at the Professor's feet, was none other than Ginny Weasley.
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A World Not Fit To Live In