Trussed

Hermione woke, feeling rested but sore. She didn't want to open her eyes. She didn't want to face the day. She didn't want to face anything.

But now was not the time for a pity party.

She slowly sat up, hissing at the throbbing in her lower body. Draco was sprawled on the couch, wand on the floor. She scrambled across the room, scooping it up and standing over him.

Anger roiled in her belly, and she reveled at the feeling of her magical core humming as she held the length of hawthorn in her hand.

She studied the blonde, empty bottle of Scotch discarded on the carpet, and noticed dried tear tracks streaking his cheeks. Her stomach clenched and she warred with herself.

Gods, how she hated him. But she knew why he'd had to do what he'd done. Knew why he was so convincing a Death Eater. Knew what it was like to do whatever it took to protect one's family.

She could try to escape. Put him in a body bind and fight her way out. She would probably be killed. If she were caught, her fate likely wouldn't be any worse than it already was.

But Draco’s would. And if his mother was his weakness, then likely she would suffer for the trouble.

Hermione turned away from the sleeping blonde and dropped the wand. There was logically nothing to gain by trying. She refused to be responsible for more pain and death. She almost laughed at the thought that Narcissa Malfoy was essentially being protected by a mudblood.

“You should have done it.” Draco’s hoarse voice made her jump. She whipped around, and realized she was still naked. He lazily picked up his wand and levitated his robe from the previous night onto her shoulders. She cocooned herself in it and winced as the shifting of her weight caused more throbbing in her nether regions. “The world would be better off.”

“I wasn't going to kill you.” Hermione replied, voice small but firm.

“No, you Gryffindors don't murder even those that deserve it.” He said flippantly, rubbing at his eyes. “Why didn't you take the pain potion?” He motioned to the two bottles on the bed, the Dreamless Sleep empty but the other untouched.

“It would have been a waste. There's no pain in sleep.” She lowered her gaze.

“I suppose you lot are used to conserving resources.” He glanced to the side table, where his Godfather had left a smattering of items. “Take it now. You’ll need it.”

She hesitated. “I-”

“Take the fucking potion, Granger.” He growled, and she pursed her lips, trying to move to the bed without showing her discomfort.

Draco crossed to the table and lifted a note in Snape’s familiar scrawl.

MAKE HER YOURS

Brow furrowed in confusion, he cast an incendio at the note to destroy it just in case. He examined the items. There was a neatly stacked outfit, all cream coloured lace and silk. Next to it an ornate emerald studded silver collar with a chain and matching bracelets.

Draco’s eyes widened at the insinuation. If he presented her in a possessive way, with the brutal memory backing him up, the Dark Lord might allow him to keep her to himself for being a faithful follower.

Suddenly Snape bringing up his rivalry with Harry in front of Voldemort made sense. His Godfather had been planting the seed that it would hurt the Order the most knowing that Hermione was specifically Draco's prisoner.

It was a long shot, but the blonde could see it was worth a try.

He turned to see her toying with the empty bottle of pain potion in her hands.

“This way.” He said, and strode through the door on the opposite wall. Hermione reluctantly followed and entered a lavish bathroom. Draco had cast an aquamenti on the massive in ground tub in the corner, and was adding warming charms.

The pain potion was doing its job, but she stared longingly at the tub. Sinking herself into the hot water would be a rare comfort.

He took a small bottle of rose oil from the shelf and sprinkled it into the bath, and set a stack of towels on a chair next to it.

She awkwardly stood, not wanting to remove the robe in front of him despite the amount of her body he had seen already. He nodded in understanding and vacated the bathroom, though he left the door open.

Hermione dropped the robe and slipped down into the hot and beautiful smelling water, letting the tears come as she did so.