Life in an Alien Land 1: In the Land of My Enemy

Thanks to Jilliane, and Gryffindorclutz for the reviews. This story is in response to GryffindorClutz' challenge. Please see the first chapter for the rules of the challenge.


Life in an Alien Land

Chapter 2

Hermione looked in the mirror disgusted by what she saw. She was no longer the vacant-eyed, hollow-cheek, gaunt woman of just months ago. Now her skin was lustrous, her hair tamed to a semblance of curls and her eyes were bright with anticipation for a future, even if that future were pampered slavery. She hated the changes wrought only a few months after Ron's betrayal and hated the Malfoys for bringing them about. She stirred form her reverie as the baby kicked in her womb, accompanied by a dull pain in her back. As much as she wanted to, she could never hate the child she carried. She ran her hand over her restive belly. "Shhh... Little one. Mummy will rest."

The child kicked again, this time, seeming to dig under her ribs. The midwitch had said on her last visit that the baby had turned, preparing for its entrance into this world. Hermione worried for it, half-blood child of a Death Eater. She waddled back to the bed, now dressed in a white, cotton gown and huddled under the covers to beat the autumn chill. It had been one year for her in captivity, today if she could remember the date correctly. One year since Ron had sold her to save his sister and mother. She hoped for the sake of his soul, that it had worked. Hermione's family had not been so fortunate.

Word had reached London that Australia had fallen. The Muggle populations of Sydney, Perth and Adelaide were rounded up and destroyed or interned. Wizards now ruled the whole of Australia and New Zealand with an iron fist and no velvet glove. Upon hearing the news a month ago, Hermione had fainted so sure was she that her parents were caught up in the purge. It had been Draco that told her of their demise, once he ascertained the reason for her distress. In a strangely lucent moment, he had held her in his arms, a thing he never did unless he was suckling on her or in the act of copulation. He whispered repeatedly, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

Hermione was unsure of the motive for his request and so had refrained from comment. He seemed merely content to hold her and to give what comfort he could. That night they slept in each other’s arms as man and woman, not master and slave. Lucius found them the next morning. As Hermione struggled to stand with her distended belly and altered centre of balance, Lucius stilled her with a gesture. He whispered, "Dress yourself and meet me in the library."

She had been given clothing appropriate to her condition, warm and supportive, and as Draco slept in the bed, appearing innocent of all sin, Hermione met Lucius. She entered the library wondering what his business might be with her. True to his word, he had not touched her since the child was conceived. He had remained coolly solicitous of her well-being, but was uninterested in the more physical aspects that her presence afforded. She stood in the doorway, breathing deeply of the scents of ancient glue, leather bindings and parchment. She lost herself in the spell of the room until Lucius bade her rather testily to enter.

He told her then of Draco's culpability in his mother's death. It was not Lucius that cast the killing blow, but his son. The Dark Lord had ordered him to do it by his own hand. With real cries of pain beyond grief and madness, Draco had plunged a dagger into his mother's battered body. Her last word was his name, spoken from bleeding lips, behind broken teeth. Draco had not been the same arrogant boy since. Lucius said all this with a quiet voice heavy-laden with remorse. He stared out the window, his grey eyes vacant, his mouth turned down in suppressed pain. Hermione sat on the divan before his desk stirred by pity, but unable to move. Until he spoke again, she thought he had forgotten her presence. "My son is mad, but you seem to draw him out of it for brief moments. For that, I value you. When this has all ended... Well..."

The Malfoy scion swept his gaze to her, his eyes pain-filled and hard. "You are dismissed, Miss Granger."

Therefore, Hermione spent the preceding month dwelling in psychotic bliss with the boy Malfoy, his demands becoming more frantic as she could do less for him sexually. He clung to her and she began to think of him as an object of pity, more a child than a man and less than culpable for his actions. She huddled under the blankets awaiting his morning visit before he left for the London Ministry.

She rolled to her side to get more comfortable. Her back had been hurting since last evening, nothing like the books described as labour pains. She suspected they were more Braxton-Hicks contractions. As the minutes dragged by, nothing seemed to alleviate her discomfort. She ground her teeth as a pain struck her, nearly taking her breath away. She struggled to a seated position, and stood as an embarrassing rush of waters flooded the floor and splashed on the velvet spread. Muttering expletives under her breath, she waited the pain out and then pulled her gown over her head. Another pain hit and she watched the muscles under her skin ripple with the contraction. She gave a soft cry, someone's name, probably Lucius'. A house elf popped into the room and disappeared with a squeak.

Hermione shuffled to the armoire and retrieved her dressing gown. A series of pains rippled over her as she went back to the bed. She bent and began the panting breaths that the midwitch taught her. She counted until the last passed and then climbed onto the soft surface, careful to move the counterpane out of the way.

The door to the room opened and Lucius entered, his son behind him. Draco's eyes were dark; his lips set in a thin line as Lucius moved behind Hermione on the bed and supported her back as another pain arced through her. She gave a huffing sob as Lucius said, "Hush, my dear, it will be over soon, and then you can rest."

Hermione growled through gritted teeth. "That's easy for you to say."

"I swear by all the gods, Father, if she is harmed by passing your brat..." Draco broke off,blanching noticeably as Hermione gave a weak cry. Lucius kneaded the taut muscles in her lower back, uttering soothing sounds as she struggled not to cry out in distress.

The midwitch arrived and was ushered into the room. She bade the two men to leave, but they each ignored her. As the labour carried on, Draco paced the edge of the room as if he were a caged animal; his rapacious gaze never left Hermione's face. After hours of agony, Hermione was delivered of a healthy baby girl. The midwitch placed on the floor in front of her to the Malfoy scion, as an ancient midwife would have presented a Roman child to its father. Lucius picked up the weakly crying bundle and carried her to the window. He pronounced, "I shall call my daughter Delphine Lucia Malfoy."

Hermione let out a huff as the midwitch spelled the after birth out of her, the almost tearing sensation more than mildly unpleasant. Draco paced at her side, cursing under his breath as the midwitch turned to retrieve the infant from her father's arms. Hermione's milk had not let down until that moment, and the colostrum stained the loose-fitting gown that the midwitch had spelled onto her. Hermione opened the gown and let the baby nuzzle until she latched onto the nipple. She moaned as the oxytocin flooded her system, creating a shameful feeling of well-being much like a strong orgasm. Her toes curled in pleasure and pain from the sensation of her daughter's first meal. Draco's breathing became laboured as he watched. Hermione glanced to him, noting at once his arousal and jealousy. The midwitch observed Hermione with some approval, "Your milk usually doesn't come in so quickly the first time. You must have been expressing your breasts like I told you."

Hermione flushed, knowing the reason for her quick colostrum let down stood beside the bed, glaring jealously at the baby on her breast.

Once the midwitch was through, Lucius ushered her out of the room and Draco paced forward. He pulled the gown down on Hermione's shoulder, effectively pinning her arm. He latched onto her free breast, drawing the same nurturing sustenance from her that his father's daughter did on the other. Draco mewled softly as he drank down her essence. His suction was nothing like the baby's and was at once arousing and disgusting. Delphine fell asleep with a contented sigh, and Hermione joined her.

&*&*&

Two months after the birth, Lucius hosted a dinner party for the Dark Lord and other Death Eaters. Hermione was expected to attend with her daughter in tow. Lucius had taken to the Delphine quite well. He rushed home to happily cuddle his daughter, change her nappies and generally give Hermione a break so that she might rest. He marvelled daily at Delphine's rosebud mouth, honeyed, blonde curls and long elegant fingers. He seemed more content than he had before, less likely to turn cold. Hermione thanked the gods that he had accepted her daughter. If he had not, she would have died rather than give her up. Draco's reaction was more troubling.

He constantly fussed when Hermione fed the child, rushed her through her duties and delegated the infant's care to house elves whenever he could. Lucius finally took the baby to his suite on the nights Draco visited Hermione so that all might get some rest. Hermione began taking the Fertility Potion once again, and she suffered the ill side effects of the drug, along with postpartum depression. She spent her days caring for the infant, awaiting the increasingly bizarre attentions of Draco and fretting that her once brilliant mind was turning to mush. She was in tears more often than not.

Therefore, she entered the dining hall of Malfoy Manor with some trepidation. It had been a year since she had been allowed in the company of humans other than the two men that possessed her. She kept her gaze downcast and demure as Lucius had instructed her to do and refrained from showing any emotion other than submission. Draco had chosen her dress, white velvet with a plunging neckline that skimmed the tops of her areolas, the hem of the sleeves and skirt outlined in silver. The gown did not complement her skintone and Hermione knew she looked washed out and bland under the glaring witchlights of the hall. She shrank under the scrutiny of the assembled Death Eaters until she noticed a familiar face.

Fiona's eyes met hers and skittered to her owner before returning to Hermione's face. She gave a small wave and Hermione nodded slightly before Draco's scowl ended the signed communication. Lucius took Hermione by the arm and half-dragged her to the raised dais that the Dark Lord occupied. Lucius took Delphine from her hands to present his half-blood daughter to Voldemort while Hermione bowed as deeply as her dress would decently allow.

"Well done, Luciussss." The Dark Lord hissed. "I take it your doxy isssss now broken?"

“Most certainly, My Lord.” Lucius answered evenly.

Malfoy handed Delphine back to Hermione and she retreated as hastily as she could without committing offence. The Dark Lord's voice rang out over the hubbub of the assemblage. "Lucius, I trust you have prepared for tonight's entertainment."

Lucius rang out above the din, "Yes, my Lord."

Draco suddenly stood beside Hermione, his eyes were clearer than she had seen before, his tone urgent. "Whatever you see tonight, do not react."

Hermione kept her eyes on her daughter as the party moved to the large table where food had appeared. Draco pushed Hermione to a seat and assumed his next to her. A house elf took Delphine from her arms, and Hermione picked at the first course, unaware of what it was. Draco commanded, "Eat. You are being observed."

He gave a significant look to the head of the table where Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange dined. The raven-haired woman's heavy lidded gaze turned more often to the Mudbloods at the table than was strictly necessary, the corners of her mouth turned down in sneering contempt. Hermione glanced at Fiona who ate heartily, acting almost as if she were under a Compulsion Charm. Hermione ate a little then picked some more before the next course whisked under her nose and the first disappeared. Dinner conversation buzzed around her with Draco joining in, his vacuous comments drawing looks of derision from the older Death Eaters. Hermione wondered what his game was. He was mad, not stupid.

After a desert of some type of flambé, the assembled guests rose as a body and retreated to the second floor ballroom. Lucius walked a pace behind the Dark Lord, while Draco stayed at Hermione’s side acting as jailer rather than lover. Hermione chaffed under this new role but refrained from open defiance. She was neither mad nor stupid.

The ballroom was dark except for a cone of light in the centre of the room where four bent and battered figures were chained, two female, two male by the outline. Hermione saw a glint of copper off three heads and she suppressed the urge to wail, though a sound escaped her throat. Draco took her by her arm and shook her. "You have been warned."

She kept her eyes down as the Dark Lord began a long-winded speech on the disposal of traitors. Hermione cast a cautious glance and was shocked to see the last person's features. It was Snape, Dumbledore's murderer, bane of all Potters and unrequited lover of Lily Evans. Draco's gaze was dispassionate as he saw the broken figure of his former Head of House. Lucius stepped forward, asking for the privilege of disposing of the traitor. The Dark Lord allowed him to, and with the distinctive motion of the curse Lucius shouted, "Aveda Kedavra!"

The former Potions Master fell to the length of his chains like a broken marionette. The Dark Lord called Bellatrix forth for the next victim. It was Ron. Hermione fought the urge to turn her head as the witch cast several Sectumsempras. Ron's viscera spilled to the floor and she set the mass of tissue on fire with a deft flick of her wand. His screams filled the air as the cloying smoke of burnt flesh, vaguely reminiscent of fried pork, filled the room. Several gasps were hastily stifled as the Dark Lord's hooded gaze swept the crowd. Hermione swallowed the gorge that rose in her throat, keeping her horror at bay by reciting the Periodic Table of Elements in atomic order. Ron's cries finally ended with one horrifying wail and Hermione clutched at Draco's hand, willing him at least to show her that bit of mercy. He drew her closer to him, his eyes taking on the same lunatic glint she had observed so many days for many different reasons.

Molly Weasley was next and she flinched as Percy stepped forward, pronouncing the Killing Curse with the same dispassionate tone one might use to greet an unwelcome acquaintance. When it was Ginny's time in the spotlight, she turned her ravaged features to Voldemort and spat saying, "Are you still picking on little girls, Tom?"

He laughed and caressed her cheek almost lovingly. "I do wish I could remember my time with you."

Ginny struggled against her chains before Vincent Crabbe Jr. stepped forward and killed her with the same Curse. Bellatrix complained loudly about the lack of entertainment value in the use of the Killing Curse but was constrained to silence by a sharp hiss from the Dark Lord. She cringed at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes.

Hermione felt her breasts leaking and asked to be excused. Draco escorted her to her chambres. He kissed her on the forehead. "You did well tonight, my love."

When Draco left, Hermione sagged against the door sobbing at the horror she was forced to witness. Her tears fell as she realised Lucius Malfoy was the man she had believed he was. Her sense of security shattered and she cowered against the door half mad with grief and fear, wondering when it would be her turn to serve as entertainment.

Delphine's lusty howls roused her from her terror and she went through motions of care for the Monster's daughter. The infant nuzzled then played with her nipple before latching on with a contented sigh. Hermione's tears fell again, plopping with regularity on the blanket that held her daughter. She snuffled and Delphine jerked to awareness, her pale blue eyes searching the room in the myopic way of all infants. A sobbing laugh escaped Hermione as she apologised, "Sorry my little flower. Mummy will try to be quieter."

After feeding and changing her daughter, Hermione cleaned her garments as best she could with no magic and returned to the door warded against her leaving of her own volition. She touched the door with the silver, Dampening bracelet, a sure way to let one of her Masters know that she was ready to return. No one came.

She gave a relieved sigh after a half hour and prepared for bed, checking on Delphine before turning off the oil lanterns.

&*&*&

"Wake up." Hermione flinched reflexively in the strong light of the Lumos cast overhead. She cracked her eyes open and saw Lucius' patrician features peering down at her. She struggled to a seated position, automatically unbuttoning the gown, hoping he would wait for her to disrobe. He put his hand on hers. "No, Miss Granger, I need your assistance. Grab your dressing gown and wait for me to come back."

Hermione waited as bid, unsure of the new role she was now expected to play. The elder Malfoy’s actions of the previous evening made her more than worried about her own safety and that of her daughter. Night wore on and Hermione dozed fitfully in front of the fire.

She heard the door open once more as the clock on the mantel chimed three and she jerked awake. She fell to her knees, grovelling at Lucius’ feet. “Please, sir, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Please don’t punish me.”

“Get up, Hermione.” His features were harsh as he dragged her from the floor. He pulled her to her feet and held her for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. “I have never punished you harshly, have I?”

“No, sir.” Hermione stilled against him as the sound of his voice rumbled through his chest.

He kissed the top of her head, a brotherly gesture of affection. “Now, before you decide I am going to kill you based on my actions of the previous evening, I need you to see something.”

He led her out of the room and Apparated them to the dungeons of the Manor. She had seen this area before when she, Harry and Ron were taken by the Seekers during the war. It still smelled musty and dank; the same cobwebs festooned the corridor. Lucius walked past the door leading to the area they had been incarcerated in and stood in front of a blank, featureless stone wall.

“What I am about to show you is secret.” Lucius looked down his nose sternly at her as if he were a schoolmaster and she a recalcitrant Miss. “The contents of this room are under a Fidelius Charm. You will unable to reveal this to anyone. That being said, are you willing to assist me, even if it might endanger your life?”

Hermione nodded, more than a little intrigued by the idea of the mystery. “Yes, Lucius.”

He searched her face for falsehood then tapped a nondescript stone on the wall with his cane. A panel swung open and revealed a very much alive Ron, Ginny and Molly Weasley, and a scowling Severus Snape.

Hermione sank bonelessly to the floor.



&*&*&

Kerichi's fabulous fictions on Fanfiction.net inspired my use of the word she coined, "midwitch." She is an inspiration to all writers with her imaginative, emotionally charged plots and equally brilliant and incisive prose. I am a fangirl of a fangirl.

Please review. It lets me know what you think.