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A World Not Fit To Live In	By : snowblind12 & Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 78124 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
These characters and the magical world they live in belong to JK Rowling and her publishers.
Thanks to my amazing co-writer of this story and amazing best friend, LissaDream. I love you, LD! Please be sure to check out our other story, Master Mine.
Thanks for all reviews!
Chapter Seven
Lucius stood beside the bed, watching the frail, sleeping witch. Internally, he reprimanded himself for being reckless and careless. If the girl had died, merely two days after being gifted, he shuddered to think what the Dark Lord would have done. Knowing the man's unpredictability, it could have been a mere shrug of his shoulders or a crucio followed by months in a dank dungeon. Lucius had learned long ago there was no way to envisage the Dark Lord's reactions.
The Malfoy patriarch paced lightly about the bedroom, taking the time to note where the portraits and paintings were positioned. He wasn't sure if he had ever stepped foot in this room before this morning. It was simply a typical guest suite in Malfoy Manor. At least a dozen just like it were scattered throughout each wing.
As he paced the space, he was happy to find there actually weren't any portraits hanging on the walls, however, this would not prevent visitors. Narcissa had made her way here, after all. It did, however, mean none of his ancestors or subjects painted throughout the Manor would be spending a lot of time in this suite. Unsettling was the best word he could find, knowing he was being watched at any and every moment in most any part of the Manor. It's not that he had anything to hide, per se, but he valued his privacy and knew reports of his activities were being given to the Dark Lord. Some of his ancestors, namely his father, were highly embarrassed of the actions the small Malfoy family had taken during the Battle of Hogwarts. Abraxas Malfoy had even expressed his approval of Narcissa being executed for trying to protect Potter.
Lucius sighed, and continued to walk around the room, studying each painting on the wall. Only a fraction of the artwork in the Manor depicted Malfoy ancestors. The Hall of Portraits, off the entrance foyer, held over seventy-five portraits of witches and wizards who were prominent figures in wizarding history. Some of them dated back to the 1600's. His great grandfather times ten, Lucius' namesake, had even aspired to secure the hand of Queen Elizabeth I. This was before the statute of secrecy laws were in effect; when the Malfoys mingled with English Nobility. There were paintings of many of the English Royalty from that time scattered throughout the expansive house.
As his thoughts wandered back to the paintings in this particular suite, he was surprised to discover at least half were Muggle in origin. He studied the Muggle canvases and found them lacking. There was one that had quite stunning colors and while the images were pleasant, they were also very blurred. Glancing at the bottom corner, Lucius noted the signature Monet. Clearly this artist had not gone very far in life, the fool must have needed glasses. His Grandmother, Elizabella, had fancied herself an art collector, he wondered if she was the one who had amassed a large collection of what was likely worthless wall coverings.
Lucius' attention was turned back to the young witch when he heard her moan and sigh loudly. Grudgingly, he had to admit that she was a beautiful girl, if one fancied wild, untamed, bushy, and riotous curls. Hair aside, she had lovely facial features – dainty and feminine. She had a heart shaped face with soft cheekbones, arched brows, and quite stunning, large, luminous eyes. Lucius closed his own eyes, trying to hold back his frustration with the situation. Hermione's eyes were a problem for Lucius, especially as the second day had progressed. Draco had been unnecessarily brutal with her. While Lucius did not condone or exhibit the same behavior, her furious accusations and obvious pain and fatigue had rung clear in those luminescent, golden orbs. She seemingly directed all her expressive looks at Lucius, almost as if she hoped he would protect her. How could he? He hadn't even been able protect his own wife. Why should he try to protect a Mudblood girl?
He returned his gaze to her bruised face, Hermione's eyes were moving rapidly behind her lids. Hmm. Dreaming. Why didn't the healer give her Dreamless Sleep Potion? Clearly, she needed it.
He was started out of his thoughts by a large crack of Apparation, Tinny had arrived. "Tinny, fetch some Dreamless Sleep from the Manor Apothecary. I believe Severus restocked our supplies yesterday. Miss Granger is restless in her sleep from dreaming."
Tinny looked up at Lucius, clearly struggling with something. The little elf's eyes were large and her ears were twitching nervously. She looked toward Hermione and back up at him, something like resolve coming over her as she finally spoke. "Tinny will iron her ears, Master Lucius, but Tinny cannots give young Miss Dreamless Sleep Potion. Healer Jacobs tolds Tinny nots to."
"Why ever not?" Lucius asked, his tone impatient and his head cocked.
The elf was now twisting her tea towel nervously. "Healer Jacobs says Miss must be woken every four hours for her potions and pastes. Dreamless Sleep will prevent her from being able to takes her medicines."
Lucius hmphed and looked back at the witch. "Fine. You do not need to iron your ears." He looked back down at her. "Make sure Master Draco is awake and at breakfast by eight. Have Bilby wake him if you are tending to Miss Granger."
He promptly Apparated to his suite and headed to his shower. Shrugging off his night clothes, he stepped into the hot water. A long, pleasurable sigh left him as he leaned his head against the cool tile, then his mood abruptly changed. He swallowed down the heartache that still overcame him at random times. The remembrance of her appearing again this morning was to blame for today's episode. Narcissa had startled him when she awoke in her portrait two weeks before. He had been napping and had wakened to the feeling of being watched. He had known she would awaken at some point, but had not known when. His father had taken over six months to wake up.
Narcissa had insisted they have their portraits done and the proper charm applied the minute the Dark Lord had returned. Astutely realizing the possibility of an early demise, she had commissioned the paintings quickly. Lucius had told her she was being silly and paranoid, but she had been right.
Bloody hell, this was just one of the many things he owed his late wife an apology for. His other faults were even more damning. He had loved Narcissa more than anything in this world. Society had dictated his actions, though, he had been occasionally unfaithful to her. Somehow, the fact she had never found out about his infidelity made it worse. He had been disrespectful and demeaning at times – actually more times than he cared to remember. Other times he had been rudely dismissive and cold. He wished he could turn back the clock and make it right. If he ever found love again, even if it was just a fraction of the love he had for his Narcissa, he would treat the witch with more respect and he would keep his vows. He had married too young, had not really been ready. Unfortunately, marrying young was the way of the wizarding world.
He pushed back from the wall and lifted a bar of soap, continuing to think of Narcissa as he washed. When she had first awoken, he had sobbed on the floor in front of her. Lucius felt he had failed her, had not protected her enough at the Hogwarts Battle. How could he have protected her from the Dark Lord's wand, though? She had made a grave error, lying about Potter being dead. The simple truth was she shouldn't have even been there, she wasn't a fighter. The Dark Lord had insisted all his followers be there, however. He felt his anger start to spike and concentrated hard on ridding himself of that feeling and its source. The Dark Lord was a powerful Legilimens; it would mean Lucius' death if he caught wind of the Malfoy patriarch's feelings, or picked up on that resentment.
Since the first appearance, she had only come to him three more times - the third being this morning. She tended to follow Draco around, keeping a watch on the person she had always loved the most. Lucius didn't blame her, Draco had worshipped his mother, and they had been very close. The boys' heartbreak was still buried inside. Lucius didn't think Draco had even shed a tear yet. He had hoped that perhaps a female presence would be good for him, but clearly all he was doing was subconsciously taking out his resentment from his mother's death on the young witch. At least he hoped that's what this was. The alternative was...well, he wasn't quite ready to think the worst yet. Narcissa's words this morning had given him hope.
After his shower, Lucius cleaned his teeth and dressed. He arrived downstairs just before eight, as he did every morning. Taking his seat, he wondered if he should arrange with Bilby to send something up for Hermione. Then dismissed the thought, knowing Tinny would see to her.
He glanced over his paper as Draco sauntered in, yawning. "I trust you were able to get some more sleep?"
Draco sat in his chair and immediately picked up and took a deep sip of the hot cup of tea that had appeared before him. "I was able to doze a little more," he answered after he swallowed.
Bilby appeared and snapped his fingers, covered platters materialized in front of them. The lids were lifted, revealing omelets with spinach, tomato, and feta as well as toast and muffins with warm butter and pumpkin spice spread.
Lucius put down the paper and spoke as he draped his napkin across his lap. "Miss Granger is to be left alone for at least forty-eight hours. She is very ill and Healer Jacobs indicated she could have died if left untreated much longer."
Draco remained expressionless as he picked up his fork. Lucius chewed a bite of omelet and swallowed before continuing. "Perhaps, it would be wise to not be so...rough...with Miss Granger. It might be nice if she enjoyed our attentions, don't you think?" He watched his son take a bite of a muffin slathered with butter and pumpkin spread. Draco chewed and swallowed before setting it down on his plate and raising his face to his father.
"No." Draco's answer was impertinent. Lucius clenched his jaw.
"I'm serious, Draco. The Dark Lord will not appreciate us killing her before he is ready for her to be dead," he struggled to keep his voice calm, inside he was boiling with fury.
"I will not kill her," Draco said simply, still not looking at his father.
"You almost did!" Lucius had a hard time keeping the condescension out of his voice.
"I didn't." His son's calm, indifferent demeanor sent chills through him.
"Draco." Lucius closed his eyes as grief overcame him. Draco was all he had left in this world. "We must keep Miss Granger safe. Yes – it is compulsory that we sleep with her - it maintains the bonding – but this is all supposed to be with a purpose. You must remember our objective here. The Dark Lord wants to use her to his advantage! She needs to be swayed to seeing the right of things. It is not necessary or helpful, therefore, to work her to death or beat her until she is black and blue. She had a bloody concussion, Draco!"
"As I said earlier, Father," Draco snapped, his face contorting with ire. "I will do as I please, you may do as you please. By all means, heal the Mudblood when she's with you. A blank canvas is always nice." Haughtily, Draco reached for his cup of tea. "I have my way of persuasion and you have yours."
"What has gotten into you, Draco?" Lucius demanded softly. "I know you do not like Granger, but I did not raise you to treat women this way."
"She is not a woman, Father," Draco sneered. "She is a Mudblood whore, a dog who needs to be trained."
The blatant cruelty in his son's voice gave Lucius pause. The sneer on Draco's face matched the one Lucius had watched on his sister-in-law's cold mug for the last three years. He suddenly felt like he needed to choose his words carefully. Suppressing a shudder, he changed his tactic.
"Do as you see fit, Draco, but for the next forty-eight hours, she is completely off limits. Healer's orders!" he ground out harshly when it looked as though Draco would protest. Lucius conceded to his son treating Granger poorly with a condition of his own. "After her healing period, she will be left alone every night from ten until the next morning when she is woken for my summons so that she may have time to rest." He wiped a hand down his face, struggling to get the image of the young girl's battered and bruised body out of his mind. Granger was so very young. The horrors she and Draco had been through at their tender age was tragic. She may be a Mudblood, but even he had to concede it wasn't exactly her fault.
"She will need to sleep in order to have the stamina for our…attentions, and your rather excessive chore list." The last bit was said with an underlying sarcasm. He sighed before continuing. "I will make sure your extracurricular activities with her do not become detrimental to her health." That statement made Lucius feel slightly nauseated, but what else could he say? At the moment, he did not feel he was able to trust his son.
"Midnight to six," Draco countered with a furious expression.
"Eleven," Lucius growled his final offer with a glare of his own. "With that compromise, I demand she be left alone daily following lunch for an hour to rest. I will give her this command. It will override any orders you give her, since my orders supersede yours as the patriarch of this home." He met Draco's narrowed gaze.
"Father, don't tell me you feel…sorry…for the dirty little thing?" Draco's voice was laced with an underlying threat.
"No." Lucius' voice gave nothing away. "I simply insist we take care of the gift the Dark Lord gave us until he is ready for her to be disposed of." He gave his son an evil smile, masking his disgust at the thought of wasting Granger's life that way. "You might like your women battered and bruised, but I much prefer mine with creamy skin and no weeping wounds."
"Fine." Draco's face was still a mask of fury, but Lucius could see resignation in his eyes.
"One last thing." Lucius did not look at Draco. "No more facial wounds. Leave her unmarked there."
"Father!" Draco started to protest.
"No, Draco!" Lucius thundered, slamming a hand down on the table. "I am still your father, you will do as I tell you! No more marks on her face!"
Draco threw his napkin on the table. His voice was deadly calm. "You seem to forget she was gifted to both of us."
Neither wizard spoke again. Lucius was trying to keep his anger in check, his disappointment concealed. His son was turning into someone he didn't recognize right before his eyes.
Draco, on the other hand, felt himself calm as he realized he would simply need to conceal any facial markings and forbid her from telling Lucius. Glamour charms were very effective.
He stood from the table, "I'm going out. Theo and Blaise are waiting for me."
Lucius watched his son as he cockily sauntered out the room without a backwards glance.
Lucius felt compelled to stay at the Manor the rest of the day. It was a Thursday and normally he would be at Malfoy Enterprises, but he just didn't trust his son to leave the young witch alone.
He apparated to her suite and was pleased to find Tinny sitting in a small chair next to her bed. "Any change?"
Tinny stood and addressed her Master. "Young Miss has been sleeping. She's is tossing and turning less. The potions is already helping."
Lucius let out a heavy sigh. "Good. Stay with her. If Draco comes here, let me know. I wish to speak with him." He took another hard look at the sleeping girl and left.
After a couple hours in his study, Lucius leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He was working on another winery acquisition in France that he was very excited about, work was one of the few pleasures left in his life.
"Luc, you're tired. You need some rest."
Lucius turned his chair towards the portrait to the left of his desk, next to the fireplace. He looked at her with soft eyes, surprised by her second appearance today. "Cissa, it's not the same with you gone." He glanced around the office confirming there were no other visitors in the picture frames scattered about his study. "I miss you," he whispered sincerely, looking up at her.
Her expression was warm, her eyes knowing. "I know, darling, but I'm not there anymore. You know that this portrait is merely a representation of me." Narcissa's portrait watched him for a minute. "What of the Mudblood girl? How is she?"
Lucius sighed heavily. "She will heal, if only for Draco to harm her all over again."
Narcissa's eyes were suddenly sharp. "Draco will come back to himself, Luc. We talked about this only hours ago. This is grief. He is a good boy...a loving boy. You need to be a good father and show him the right way. Words will mean nothing."
As much as he doubted her and feared she was wrong, he would not be dismissive of her thoughts. He would never do that again. "Yes, my flower. I'm sure you are right."
He watched with disappointment as her eyes fluttered closed and her head fell forward for a nap. She slept most of the time, which is normal for most magical portraits. The newly deceased sleep far more than the others, however. He was told she would be like this for months.
With a heavy sigh he pushed away from his desk and apparated to Hermione's suite once again. What he found infuriated him. Hermione was sound asleep and Draco was in her room with Theo and Blaise. Tinny was standing in the corner, trembling. He cut a glance at her, but knew this was Draco's fault. He had likely forbidden her from leaving.
Lucius said nothing as he slowly took in the scene before him. Hermione was under her comforter and was sleeping. It appeared she had not been exposed or touched. He set his face in a hard mask and merely stared at Draco, expressing his displeasure without words.
Draco gave his father a defiant look as he stated. "I just wanted to check on our witch, Father. I was...worried." He cut a smirk at Blaise who attempted to suppress a smile. Theo, on the other hand, swallowed heavily as his eyes shot from the sleeping witch to Lucius to Draco.
Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "We were just leaving. Come on, guys," he said, glancing back at his friends as he made for the door.
Lucius said nothing to Draco but nodded a friendly hello to the two visiting wizards as they walked passed him. After the door closed, Tinny immediately spoke up. "Tinny's was comings to get Master Lucius, when young master demanded Tinny stay."
Lucius sighed as he nodded at the clearly terrified little elf. Am I really that scary? "Tinny, I know you would not disobey me without cause. I'm not angry." He looked back at Hermione. "Has she eaten?"
Tinny hung her shoulders, "Only some soup, Master. Tinny offered to makes young miss whatever young miss likes, but young miss just sleeps and sleeps."
Lucius made a quick decision in that moment. "Tinny, transfer Miss Granger to the mistress suite connected to my own." Tinny's eyes grew wide with surprise.
"Yes. I know the suite hasn't been used in over a century, but I feel it's a necessary move to keep a better eye on her. I wish to keep her close." He quickly reprimanded himself for speaking aloud. Glancing quickly around the room, he was relieved to find his slipup would not come back to haunt him. He added for good measure. "It will also provide me with easy access to her charms without the inconvenience of Apparition."
Hermione stretched and rolled over, flipping her pillow. Her eyes opened lazily as she slowly woke and remembered where she was. Not wanting to face that nightmare, she closed them again, but bright sun was filtering into the room. Something's different. Her eyes popped open and she sat up slowly, taking in the huge suite surrounding her. Where am I? She smiled to herself when all she could see were the tips of little elf ears beside her bed. "Tinny?"
Hermione peeked over the side of the bed to find the elf was standing next to her bedside table. She looked at the floor and then at the bed. The bed was very high off the ground and was huge, larger than a king if she had to guess. The dark purple comforter was luxurious and felt smooth as silk. The grey sheets were the softest she had ever touched.
Tinny was looking up at her. "Good witch needs to takes her potions."
"Tinny, where am I?"
"Master Lucius mades Tinny move good witch to mistress suite."
Hermione's forehead crinkled as she once again looked around, paying closer attention. Mistress suite! Well, that can't be good.
Tinny had no patience for Hermione's curiosity. "Good witch will takes her potions."
"Yes, Tinny whatever you say," Hermione conceded to her new friend. Tinny hopped on the bed beside Hermione, balancing a tray with the potions which Hermione had become well acquainted with. She swallowed the first bitter vial and asked, "When was I moved?"
Tinny handed Hermione the next vial. "Yesterday afternoon," Tinny replied in a no-nonsense tone. With a wave of Tinny's hand, Hermione felt the familiar cool balm coat between her legs. Yesterday?
"I need to use the Loo, Tinny." The elf hopped off the bed and placed the tray on the bedside table before positioning a step stool for Hermione's convenience. Hermione slid out of the monstrous bed onto the stool and stepped onto the plush Turkish carpeting. She couldn't help but glance about the room as she walked, taking in the huge fireplace to her left with a large sitting area in front of it. The sofa was a large burgundy, red Victorian style with scroll arm rests. It had soft velvet upholstery with tufted button details. On either side of the sofa were Victorian curved back armchairs with the same soft velvet tufted upholstery. A stunning oval oriental rug in deep hues of reds, greens and golds was the centerpiece of the settee. Bookshelves lined the wall to the left and right of the fireplace. Further to the right, in the corner, was a table with a place setting. The table had two chairs and was large enough for two people to comfortably dine. Straight ahead was a balcony with large French doors, covered with fine, white lace curtains. To the right of the balcony was the loo. The suite was almost as large as Lucius'.
She stepped into the en-suite bathroom and was shocked at the extravagance. A huge tub, which was more like a small swimming pool, had colorful turquoise and blue Turkish tiles. Next to the tub, a large picture window looked over a similar view to Lucius'. Only instead of being able to see the quidditch pitch, she could see part of the garden. The swimming pool was surrounded by gazebo type structures and chaise lounges. In the distance, the stables loomed magnificently. White Arabian horses were being led out of the structure by two people. Hermione could only guess how many servants were required to run an estate like this. She watched as their harnesses were released and they galloped into the large green pasture, celebrating their freedom. They weren't really free, though, not really. Hermione could commiserate.
Her bladder was protesting loudly, so she stepped into the small room next to the large his and her shower. A toilet and bidet were side by side. She sat on the toilet and relief coursed through her as her bladder emptied a large amount without any burning at all. She glanced at her arms and found no marks of any kind. On her way out of the loo, she stepped to the large gold-gilded mirror which hung over the gorgeous, pale green marble vanity. She looked at herself, disappointed to find she still had a rather large bruise on her left cheek and the gash on her forehead was still present. They were far better than earlier, though. The bruising was in its last stages of healing and the gash looked much less angry. She wondered if it would leave a scar, not that she really cared.
As she walked back to the bed, she exhaled with relief that the tenderness of her muscles was gone as well. "Tinny, what time is it?"
Tinny fluffed Hermione's pillows before hopping off the bed and answering. "Seven-thirty. Tinny's will bring good witch breakfast before good witch sleeps more." Tinny snapped her fingers and disappeared with the familiar pop.
Surprisingly, Hermione was actually hungry. She couldn't help the renewed hope she felt. She felt more like herself, physically and mentally stronger, but knew it would be short lived. She was still a slave to rapists and abusers who would likely appear at any minute.
She almost barked a laugh at the irony when Lucius entered the suite from a door at the foot of her bed. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked her up and down. "You're better." It was a statement and not a question. "Have you eaten?"
Hermione decided to be civil. "Tinny is getting me some breakfast."
He nodded formally. "Well then, that's good." There was an awkward silence. "Alright, I'll leave you…for now." He started to walk back through the same door when he paused and looked back at her. "I have instructed Draco to leave you alone until tomorrow." Hermione saw a flash of what looked like embarrassment or uncertainty on his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but abruptly left the suite instead.
She stood watching the door, confused by his behavior. She didn't have time to think about it, as Tinny reappeared with a platter and placed it on the dining table in the corner of the room. Hermione stepped over and sat down, her heart accelerating as the lid was lifted to reveal strawberry covered waffles, scrambled eggs, sausage, muffins, hot tea, cranberry juice and cut fruit. She was ravenous and ate more than half before she had to stop. Her stomach full to bursting, she climbed back in bed and nestled under the covers. Sleep claimed her again, quickly.
Lucius visited a second time after he finished his breakfast. Draco had joined him at the table, as usual, but the conversation had revolved around Malfoy Enterprises and some deeds the Dark Lord was requiring. Draco had been recruited on another Muggle round up mission. The Dark Lord had acquired new potions that needed testing and he needed test subjects. He liked his subjects young and healthy and old and frail. He liked to compare the effects and the intensity. Draco and seven others would spread out over the UK and "acquire" two individuals each. Because Draco was young and handsome, he was usually assigned to attract young women. Draco was very good at turning on the charm and never disappointed.
Lucius was relieved that Hermione would be left alone today, and he felt he could return to work. Fortunately, Lucius had not left before Healer Jacobs had visited. The healer was pleased to find Hermione much improved, but insisted she still needed her rest. Hermione was conscious for this visit and kept a wary eye on Lucius who hovered in one corner of the room.
The Healer reassured her with a smile and soft pat on the shoulder that she would be good as new. His eyes were kind, but knowing, and Hermione felt a flush of embarrassment.
Lucius stepped over at this point and Hermione was surprised by the concerned look on his face as he spoke. "So…she'll recover fully? No ill effects from the concussion?"
Hermione eyes widened. Concussion? That bastard!
The healer glanced back at Hermione and then replied. "No, it was a minor concussion, but it's important she suffer no more head injuries."
Lucius cast a troubled look over the Healer's shoulder at Hermione. He then whispered. "And…her emotional and psychological frame of mind?"
The Healer sighed heavily, rubbed his brow and spoke softly. "Mr. Malfoy, she has had no new ideations since yesterday, but I imagine she's been barely conscious most of that time."
Lucius stared at the man astutely. The healer didn't back down and added. "Also, it's not my business, but I noticed she is not protected against pregnancy. If that is not a concern, then I shall be on my way."
Lucius felt the blood drain from his face, his eyes darting to Hermione when he heard her let out a small shriek of horror.
The Healer, interpreting their reactions, quickly reassured them both. "She's not pregnant. But if this is not desired, and I'm assuming by both your reactions that it's not, we should address this issue promptly." He blanched when he realized he had made a supposition. "Unless…of course…and I apologize if I was out of line…you two are not…" The Healers face had gone from ashen white to bright red.
Lucius couldn't resist the opportunity. "Yes, a very wild assumption on your part. Miss Granger is merely in my care," he lied convincingly.
The healer was completely flustered. "Yes, yes, of course. Forgive me."
Lucius' superior tone continued. "However, since you brought it up and considering Miss Granger's nature, perhaps a form of contraception would be wise."
Hermione's jaw fell open, outraged. She scowled severely at Lucius before the words flew from her mouth. "My nature?!" she cried. "It was you..."
Lucius looked at her commandingly, interrupting her with simple words. "Close your mouth, Miss Granger."
Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she cursed the binding internally for taking away her ability to defend herself. Her face was flaming with rage and embarrassment as she stared at the elder Malfoy with hatred blazing in her eyes.
The Healer had his back to Hermione and missed her reaction completely. Lucius cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused with her wonderfully ferocious expression, and continued. "Relax, Miss Granger. It's my job to care for you. Lay back and close your eyes."
Lucius watched with a smidge of guilt and a lot of relief as her facial muscles relaxed. She simply rested back into her pillows and closed her eyes.
He looked back at the Healer. "What are her options?"
The Healer looked slightly uncomfortable and shot a glance back at Hermione. "I really should be discussing this with her..."
Lucius interrupted him, his tone condescending. "Healer Jacobs, this witch is here under my care at the directive of the Dark Lord. Perhaps you would like to explain to him your reservations?"
Once again, the man paled. "No! Heavens no. That won't be necessary."
After a brief education on the available forms of contraception, Lucius decided on a weekly potion. He didn't want anything more frequent because it would be tedious and he didn't want anything long term in case the Dark Lord were to desire her pregnant in the future.
The Healer took his leave as quickly as possible after providing a month's worth of potions. Lucius watched Hermione's petite form for a long while after the Healer was gone. She was still in the position he had commanded of her. Guilt increasing a bit, Lucius had to admit that the complete control over another human being was not nearly as pleasurable as one may think. Startled, he abruptly realized she had tears slipping down her temples.
"You may do as you please, now, Miss Granger," Lucius said quickly, his voice gruff. Immediately, she unhinged her jaw and gasped in a deep breath that choked on a startling sob as she rolled away from him.
"Heaven's, child," he said, trying to keep the panicked sound out of his voice at her sudden demeanor change. "What on earth is the matter?"
"Just go!" Her cry was half sob, half begging, and all hatred.
Lucius gritted his teeth at her insolence. Like hell he was going to leave when he didn't know what was wrong. "Is it your head? Do you need a headache potion?"
She didn't answer and he sighed heavily. "Please tell me what is wrong, Miss Granger. I will endeavor to remedy the problem."
These words seemed to spur some sort of enraged reaction from her. Hermione rolled and literally leapt from the bed, wild hair curling out at all angles from her head and face. She was wearing a lavender colored, silk, cap sleeved nightgown that clung to her every curve. He swallowed hard as a finger was pointed at him accusingly. "Fix it? You think you can fix this?! Do you really want to know what's wrong?" She didn't wait for an answer as she advanced on him, finger still raised. "I will tell you what's wrong!" Her finger collided with his chest. "YOU are what's wrong! You and your abomination of a human being son, are what's wrong. You and him having so much bloody control over me and my actions is what's wrong. More control than I think even you realize! What's wrong is that I thought you had left without undoing your commands!"
Somewhere in the back of his mind Lucius knew he should not be allowing her to speak to him like this, but for some reason he was unable to stop her.
"Your commands that made me keep my mouth shut, on my back, with my eyes closed, and relax! Do you have any idea what my day would have been like if you had left without removing your inane control from me? Everyone would have thought I was sleeping! I wouldn't have been able to ask for help!" She broke off as another angry sob left her chest and whirled away from him, grasping her hair in frustration. "It was your bloody fucking son putting that god-damned Silencio on me, and leaving me to scrub a floor on my hands and knees for six fucking hours, all over again!"
Lucius watched her temper tantrum (and he could admittedly see why he was being raged at) with utter fascination. She was articulate and intelligent and completely…captivating…when angry. Not even her vulgarity bothered him.
Her cheeks were flushed hot pink, those brilliant eyes sparked with life and fury. She was wonderfully furious, Lucius could feel her magic crackling around the room. Her rant continued. "Only this time – this time – I would have been forced to eventually lay in my piss for a while and not eat until supper. I suppose that's only suitable punishment for a dirty little Mudblood, though, huh?"
Lucius winced internally when she called herself a Mudblood, flashing back to when he called her princess. "That's nice," she had said. "Makes me feel almost…human."
He realized she was still screaming at him a few minutes later, he had apparently tuned out her words, spellbound by her presence and gestures. In another life, in an alternate universe, he would have hauled her into that huge bed to tame her, to calm her fire with delicious heat and sweet words in her ears. Alas, it was not to be. As enchanting as he found her in this state of undress, full of uninhibited ferociousness, he unfortunately had to get to work.
It was time to put an end to her histrionics, even if they were somewhat justified. He would not allow any witch to talk to him in such a way, much less a bound Mudblood captive. He reached out and snatched the wrist of the hand that had returned to point painfully into his pectorals. "That is quite enough, Miss Granger," he growled. She stilled, eyes widening in obvious fear. For the second time in as many days he wondered if he were really, truly that terrifying. Instead of apologizing for her fear, he growled at her, making her jump.
"In the future, it would be best you do not take that tone of voice with me or there will be…consequences." He watched regretfully as her eyes dulled, the fire abruptly going out. The sheen of wetness they portrayed a couple of seconds later unsettled him. "That being said, my dear, you have made your point quite clearly. I will be more cautious with my commands in the future." Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth fell slightly open. Pleased by her reaction, he added, "I will go one step further and give you a directive now – if you are forgotten about for more than two hours, I command that you are to be released from whatever you are doing. If this happens, you are to seek me out and tell me afterwards. Do you understand?"
She gave a startled nod before tentatively pulling at her wrist. He released it, frowning when he saw the reddened skin there as she raised her other hand to rub it. He hadn't meant to hurt her.
"I must get to work, Miss Granger," he said softly after a minute of silence where she stared at him warily. "Draco will be out for the entire day, you need not worry about him. Tinny will see to any of your needs. Help yourself to the little library here," he gestured to the bookcases that flanked the fire place. "I do hope you enjoy your free time, you will be joining us for dinner at seven o'clock. Wear something nice."
He spun on his heel and stalked to the door. Pausing under the frame, he sent a tentative glance back at her. She was gaping at him. "I am glad you are better, Miss Granger." Then, he was gone, leaving behind a very perplexed Gryffindor.
Exhaustion reclaiming her, Hermione climbed back into her bed, contemplating what had just happened. Lucius Malfoy was really beginning to confuse her. He wasn't a monster, but he wasn't a good man, either. He had raped her, after all. However, he seemed to be reasonable, if not nice. Reasonable was perfectly good with her. She could live with reasonable. He seemed to not wish her actual harm, at least not serious harm.
Draco, on the other hand, Draco was sub-human. He wasn't just abusive, he got off on it. He was a true psychopath. He had no conscience and had little regard for the feelings of others, including his supposed girlfriend, Pansy. He had lied to the girl and manipulated her so easily, seemingly without a second thought. She realized she needed to tread lightly around him. It would be best if she could learn to ignore his taunts. If she could become boring to him, maybe he would leave her alone. Maybe he would grow tired of his new toy, as most spoiled children were prone to do.
A toy. Is that really what I've become? Is that all I'll ever be the rest of my life? Was Draco right? Would the rest of her life be condemned to being, what was it he had said? "A vessel for the pleasure of better wizards?" No. She scolded herself for even considering it. You will not let him win.
She tossed onto her side, angrily staring at the wall. She promised herself right then and there that Draco Malfoy would not get the best of her. He would not destroy her spirit or her intellect. He may have use of her body, but he would not destroy her mind. She needed to remind herself of that truth, and knew she would need to do so frequently. Certainly, as long as she stayed under his control.
Nine hours later, it was six-fifty in the evening and Hermione was expected for dinner. She absently stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror Tinny had conjured. She was freshly bathed, shaved, buffed and dressed in what most witches would be giddy to be wearing. Her hair was not braided tonight, but had been charmed into soft, large curls. Hermione marveled at how long her hair had grown.
The dress was pink silk, light and flowing. It hugged her breasts, small waist and hips, and then draped to the floor. It even had a small train. The neckline was a low V-cut that dipped down between her breasts, the front of the loose sleeves came to her wrists, the back draped with the full length of the gown to the floor. The large opal pendant necklace and earrings were beautiful, especially against the pink silk of her gown, the color picking up the fire in the opals. Tinny really knew how to dress her up, but the elf had been dressing Malfoy wives for a hundred years. Hermione looked at the jewelry, wondering what Malfoy matriarchs would think about a Mudblood (she internally rolled her eyes) wearing the family jewels.
Chancing a glance around the portraits in her suite, she found she actually was being watched. An elderly looking witch with silver-grey hair in a loose chignon, a kind face and Victorian era gown was observing her with curiosity. Hermione contemplated saying something, but dropped the idea when her heart started to race a little as her seven o'clock dinner summons began to plague her. She looked around the large suite and spotted a glowing parchment beside the door on the far side of the suite.
A portkey ride later she stood directly outside of the dining room doors. Her summons was still calling her, so she knew she needed to act more quickly, but was nervous. This would be her first time seeing Draco in almost forty-eight hours. She placed both palms flat on the hinged French doors, took a deep breath, and pushed her way through. Head held high, feeling more like herself than she had in weeks and weeks, she felt almost haughty when both Malfoy men stood, watching her with barely hidden lust. Well, she shouldn't say that. Draco was leering at her, lust clearly in his eyes. Lucius, however…he was looking at her with a soft, almost appreciative gaze. It made her feel pretty and she was disappointed in herself to realize this pleased her. Why should his appreciation or approval matter? Let's face it Hermione, you have a penchant for wanting to please…for getting the right answer…for belonging.
She confidently (even though she was a trembling mess inside) made her way to what she was beginning to think of as "her" chair. Lucius immediately stepped next to it and pulled it out from the table. He offered his hand to help her sit, and Hermione felt her body automatically respond to the polite gesture as she hand been commanded. His hand was cool and soft, making her self-conscious of her sweaty palms.
"You look lovely tonight, Miss Granger," he said softly in her ear as he pushed her chair in for her. Hermione swallowed nervously before replying.
"Thank you." Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. That would not do. She raised her fist to her mouth and delicately cleared her throat to try again. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."
He nodded his approval as he returned to his seat.
"I have to admit, Granger," Draco's tone was unnaturally smooth and almost…polite. "My father is right, you are much more pleasing on the eyes when you're not covered with bruises. Perhaps you will stop acting in such a manner that lands you with more, now that you're feeling better?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I will," she answered primly. "No promises, however." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucius smirk. Feeling the pull of being watched intently, her eyes glanced back to Draco. He was indeed staring at her, a knowing look on his face and a hint of a malicious smile.
"Now, now," Lucius said after a brief break in the conversation. "Let us all try and remain cordial." Just as those words were spoken, the customary silver domes appeared in front of them along with a crack of apparation and Bilby.
Five minutes later, Hermione was staring at her dinner, mouth watering. A New York strip steak was topped with glazed onions and Manhattan sauce. More delightful than that presentation, however, was it also sported two, huge, seared sea scallops sprinkled with fresh chives. It was presented on a bed of crisp asparagus. There was a separate plate with a dinner roll that had a pat of butter melting on top.
Hermione almost burst into tears at the sheer beauty of it. She loved seafood. For over the last year, meals had been scarce. When they'd had enough to eat, it was always simple. Something scrounged together. Something easy like scrambled eggs, peanut butter sandwiches, the occasional spaghetti night. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten scallops.
"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" Lucius frowned at her. He was hoping that her appetite would pick up now that she was healed. She was entirely too thin from her weeks of captivity.
"No," she whispered. "No, nothing is wrong. This looks wonderful."
"Are you going to stare at it all night, or are you going to eat? You know we have to wait until the lady of the house starts her meal." Again, except for the sarcastic inflection on the word "lady," Draco's tone was pleasant…almost teasing. Hermione eyed him carefully for a moment before picking up her fork and knife and slicing into a scallop.
It was incredible.
Divine.
Nothing had ever tasted so good.
Ever.
She was embarrassed when a low moan of pleasure escaped her throat. Lucius, however, seemed to find it amusing. He grinned at her over his wine goblet. "You like the scallops?" he asked, watching her take another bite. Her eyes closed with pure bliss as the second bite melted on her tongue the way the first had, only better.
She swallowed and looked to him, giving him a very small, cautious smile. It was hard not to, he looked so pleased with her. "I do. I love seafood."
"We will have to put more into the rotation," Lucius said, almost off-handedly. "I've always enjoyed all sorts of seafood myself, but Narcissa – " He broke himself off, face going quite pale. Hermione looked up curiously. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to the Malfoy matriarch. She wasn't about to ask, however, especially when she saw the flushed, angry look on Draco's face. Her eyes dropped back to her plate and she took another bite in the awkward silence. Nothing was going to put her off this meal.
Lucius guardedly continued a few moments later. "Let's just suffice it to say, it was never a big favorite here."
Hermione had just finished a sip of a tart, delightful red wine. "I would eat almost any kind of seafood," she attempted to make the conversation less awkward. "Scallops are by far my favorite, however. My compliments."
Neither of the conversationalists missed the quiet, sarcastic grunt from the opposite side of the table, but neither did they seem to think it warranted a comment. The fact that Draco had not said one scathing remark since her entrance was a definite curiosity. It made her extremely nervous.
Lucius, on the other hand, was fervently pleased his tête-à-tête from earlier had seemed to make the boy feel a little guilt. He was being much kinder to Hermione – almost like his old self in polite, albeit unfavorable, company.
The meal went off without hitch. It was mostly quiet, but the conversation exchanged was at least civil. When pudding had been served, Lucius was again delighted to find Hermione eating with a renewed vigor. Her eyes had lit spectacularly when the beautifully presented piece of tiramisu topped with fresh raspberries and blueberries appeared in front of her.
Dessert was another of Hermione's favorites, and she vaguely wondered if Tinny had something to do with the food choices this evening. She almost wept with joy for the second time that night, the flavor of the espresso and cream on her tongue burst with harmonious perfection. Thanking the elf would be her first priority when she next saw Tinny.
The silence was almost comfortable as dessert wrapped up. Then Draco chose to break it.
"You are feeling better, Miss Granger?" he said, not unkindly, watching her closely. Hermione wasn't sure what to think and glanced at Lucius for help. Lucius did not look at her, and his expression was off, almost as if he knew what was coming. A sense of foreboding filled her body.
"I am, thank you for asking," she answered softy. They had been polite all evening, she could be, too. As long as the situation warranted it.
"I'm pleased to hear that," Draco said. What only could be classified as an evil, devilish smile crossed his face. Her stomach dropped. His eyes stayed on her. "Isn't that wonderful, Father? The Mudblood is feeling better."
Hermione's face froze in a look of disinterest at the slur, pretending it had not been said. She would not let him goad her. She found herself disappointed when the older Malfoy didn't say anything. Their dinner conversation had been civil, why was he allowing Draco to turn the tide now?
"We shall have to work on your…constitution. You're rather weak to fall ill so easily." He glanced at his father, who was calmly watching him, seemingly bored. Draco returned his attention to Hermione. "The healer said we had to leave you alone for forty-eight hours." He tossed his linen napkin on the table and leaned back causally in his chair. "The way your jaw was flapping tonight, I think the healer overestimated your healing time."
"Draco," Lucius said quietly, his tone held a slight warning.
Draco rolled his eyes and then sighed as he looked at his father, "Relax, father. I won't touch her. You have made the schedule perfectly clear to me. However, the Mudblood will resume her morning visits starting tomorrow."
He looked back at Hermione. "Six o'clock, Granger. Six o'clock you will go to my father and after he has had his fill, you will come to my bed and kneel beside it as I instructed."
Hermione didn't say anything, she merely stared over his shoulder at a collection of small paintings, not comprehending their subjects. She was simply using all her willpower to remain calm and not give him the satisfaction of provoking or upsetting her.
"Did you hear me?" Draco asked, speaking the words slowly and clearly, as though she were mentally incapable.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Hermione lost her temper. She slowly met his gaze. "Yes, I heard you, you priapic, sadistic flea on a turd."
There was complete and utter silence for about five seconds before Lucius Malfoy snorted an incredulous laugh. A laugh that turned completely genuine and had him clutching his stomach in under fifteen seconds.
Hermione stared at the man with wide, horrified eyes. Had she really said that aloud? Was Lucius Malfoy really laughing at what she had said? At his son's expense? Hermione looked from an almost hysterical Lucius, to Draco who was purple with his outrage. She wondered if he even knew what priapic meant, and frankly hoped that he didn't. Calling him a flea with a constant hard on was not particularly smart, even if it was justified.
As Lucius' laughter died down, Draco spoke in a menacing voice. "I see you have decided not to act and speak appropriately." He gave her a slow, evil smile that sent a shudder of fear down her spine. "That's all right, Miss Granger. You'll receive your punishment in the morning." Hermione wondered if all the blood had drained from her face, it certainly felt like it had. Their gazes were locked, he obviously relished her fear, his grin did not slip. As she tried to maintain a façade of indifference externally, she scolded herself internally for her loss of control.
Lucius cleared his throat causing both pairs of eyes to look his way. He looked from Draco to Hermione, his expression looked…uneasy? "Yes, Miss Granger, Draco is correct. I do have some adaptations to your schedule, however." Hermione cringed internally. "It has been decided, and I am now giving an order, that no matter what you have been told, no matter where you are, at eleven o'clock every evening, you are free to do as you please. Be that read, sleep, bathe, etc. You will be left alone until your six-a.m. summons. Likewise, you will also have free time for one hour each day after lunch."
Hermione sat in stony silence, her face unreadable, eyes once again fixed to the artwork she wasn't really seeing. While she was pleased that she would be left alone at night, she couldn't help the bile of resentment that caused her anger to flare. Being told what to do like this, being controlled. Merlin, she would never get used to it. (Merlin help her if she ever did.) She forced herself to continue showing no emotion or evidence of frustration on her face. She would not give Draco any more ammunition to use against her in the morning. Her insult had certainly been more than enough.
There was an awkward silence. As it became uncomfortable, Lucius' expression remained indifferent as he pushed his chair back and stood, tossing his napkin on the table. "It has been a long day. I think we should each retire for the evening."
Draco stood as well, watching his father walk to Hermione's chair and assist her to stand. He smirked at Hermione. "Yes, sleep…well Mudblood. You're going to need it."
AN:
A big thank you to RequiredReading, The_Last_Echo, Wildkitsune and Asuka_Bloodberry for reviewing this story :)
Wildkitsune, thanks for providing us with your email. I fully intend to shoot you a message in the near future. I love meeting other writers and FF enthusiasts. Please feel free to message us through the FF website as well. Our pen names are the same on that site:) Thanks so much for your review!
The_Last_Echo, thanks for your interest in brainstorming with us, but we pretty much have the story completely outlined. That being said, we would love to hear any ideas you have to share and would be happy to correspond. You can reach us on FF website. Our pen names are the same. Thanks for reviewing!!
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A World Not Fit To Live In