Her Soul To Keep

Hermione woke up to bright sunshine flowing through the window above her cage. She attempted to sit up, but she gasped in pain at the slightest movement. The cuts in her back were still raw.

She looked across the room at Malfoy, checking, just to be sure her gasp hadn't woken him; she didn't need punished again so early. A sigh of relief issued quietly from her lips as her eyes fell upon his sleeping form. He actually looked quite peaceful and... handsome.

Knock it off! It's Malfoy you're looking at! He is a despicable piece of shit. Look what he did to you!

Hermione sighed again and gingerly pushed herself up, biting her lip to keep from screaming in pain. She could just manage to see out the window from the her place in the cage.

The Malfoy's yard was breathtaking. Green grass stretched out as far as she could see, which sparkled with dew in the morning sun. There was a large pond with the water so clear that she could make out the white sand at the bottom. She was so entranced by the beauty of the outside world that she didnt hear her captor wake up. There was a loud cough from above her, causing her to jump, hitting her head on the top of her cage.

“Morning, Mudblood. Admiring our land? Bet Weasel's yard didnt look like this.”

She rubbed her head, glaring up at Malfoy, but stayed silent. She wasn't going to let him get to her again.

“What? Not going to talk to me?” he laughed. “You think you're so smart, don't you, Granger?”

She continued to look at him silently, willing herself not to answer.

“I order you to speak! Now!” Malfoy demanded.

Hermione looked at him for another few seconds before ducking her head in defeat. “Yes, Master.”

Malfoy pointed his wand at the door of her cage and it flew open with a loud bang,

“Get out here, Mudblood.”

She crawled through the small opening and stood up. She had completely forgotten about her back until now.

“OW!” she yelped as she felt the skin stretch painfully.

"Move faster, Granger. Don't want punished again, do you?” he told her, smirking.

Moving as quickly and as gingerly as she could, she made her way to stand in front of him. He cocked his eyebrow expectantly.

“What, Malfoy?” she asked, slightly annoyed at the smug look on his face.

“On your knees, Granger. You aren't worthy to stand before me. You are not my equal.”

Gritting her teeth in both pain and annoyance, she lowered herself reluctantly down, onto the floor.

“See, now that wasn't so hard,” he laughed and patted her on the head. “You know, you would make a good dog, Mudblood. Well, except for the fact that dogs are far more intelligent.”

Hermione began to shake in anger, but bit her bottom lip harder to keep from snapping at him.

He's not worth it, just take it. Maybe I can poison the stupid gitn while he sleeps. Or maybe I'll just take his wand and shove it up his-

“I see someone's learned a little bit of self control, and to think that I am the one that made it happen, the one that made Granger stop talking! Now, if only we could do something about that bushy head of yours.”

Before she knew what had come over her, she had sprung up from the floor and hit Malfoy across the face with all the force she could muster. Panicking, her eyes found the door and she made out towards it quickly but Malfoy had already pointed his wand at it by the time she had got there, locking her inside.

She tugged on the door handle furiously but it wouldn't budge. Turning to face the room, she came face to face with a livid Draco, the mark of her hand etched upon his face.

He grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her roughly across the room, ignoring her pleas for forgiveness. He stopped when he reached his bed, but hadn't released her hair. He was pulling it back so that she was forced to strain her neck to look at him and could see straight into her wide, fear-filled eyes.

“Please, I'm sorry! Please...”

He ignored her again and spun her around and smashed her face against the wooden bed post.

Hermione felt her nose break, warm blood flowing freely down her face. He slammed her face into it once more before throwing her to the floor and kicking her in the stomach, yelling at her angrily. He punctuated each word with a swift kick,

"Don't. You. Ever. Touch. Me. Again."

By the second kick, Hermione had curled herself into a protective ball, her hands covering her face as she sobbed. Feeling an absence of kicks, she cautiously lowered her arms to peer up at him. His face was expressionless.

“Get up.”

She lay there for a few seconds, not did not dare to take any more time than that. Slowly, she got to her feet before doubling over in pain, clutching her side. She had a feeling that one of her ribs was snapped, if not two, and her face was swelling by the second.

“Granger.”

She looked up at him, fearful. “Yes, Master?”

“Go take a bath.”

“Wh-what?” she asked, staring up at him in confusion.

“I said, 'go take a bath'. I don't need you bleeding all over my floor. Well, no more than you already have. Once you've finished, I want you to scrub this floor. You have one hour,” he told her, gesturing to the blood that was steadily dripping from her face. “And I want you completely clean. If I'm not satisfied, I will scrub you myself until I am. Now go.”

And with that he left the room without a backwards glance at her.

Hermione dragged herself to the door that she knew led to his bathroom and pushed it open slowly, almost afraid to step inside.

The room was beautiful. The tiles on the floor were a blinding white that glittered spotlessly in the light given off by the crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. The bathtub was in the far corner of the room and was the size of a small swimming pool.

She carefully walked over to it and tested a few taps, deciding which she liked. As the bath filled up, she slipped off her clothes and walked over to the mirror that hung heavily over his bathroom counter, decorated with emerald tiles.

Her reflection was hideous. Two black eyes were settling on either side of her nose that was turning a blueish-black color, surrounded by the scarlet of dry blood. Purple bruises were springing up all over her sides and stomach and legs and everywhere else she could see. -Not wanting to examine her injuries further, she made her way back to the bath and turned off the water before slipping gracefully into the tub.

The steaming water felt good on her aching body. She leaned her head back against the tile, soaking in the feelings of relaxation.

It wasn't too long before she opened her eyes and began to scrub her body; weeks worth of dirt and the recent blood washed off in the now lukewarm water.

She rubbed herself until her body was red raw before climbing out and draining the water. She noticed a fluffy white towel on the counter next to a stack of clothes.

A house elf must have brought them in while I was dozing off.

She pulled the towel around her and sifted through the clothes; there was a plain blue dress and a set of white underwear. Once dry, she pulled on the clothes and hung the towel up on the rack.

Walking back out into Draco's room, she saw a bucket of cleaning supplies on the floor. She walked over and tipped out the contents, before returning to the bathroom to fill it with water.

As she set to work ,she let her mind wander...