Yes, Master

Chapter 2: Light within the Dark



O



The prickly awareness of being watched crept up Hermione\'s spine, forcing her to keep her eyes closed. She didn\'t have to open them, to know it was Malfoy, sitting on a conjured armchair, amber liquid in hand.



Occasionally, she heard his gullet swallowing , heightening the tension in the room.



Hermione internally frowned.



What was the matter with him? He had spent two hours, dozing fitfully, until demons got the better of him, and he awoke with a loud yell. The first thing he did was look over. Hermione made sure to keep her head unsupported and inclined, hoping he would return to slumber. Merlin knows, one of them needed it. And since, she had a little chance of finding these chains comfortable…



"I know you\'re awake." His silky tone offered no reprieve.



Hermione considered faking it for longer, but decided it would just prolong the crick in her neck. She stretched out her neck, giving a theatrical yawn.



"Better," he commented, sipping from a glass. He had been drinking for a few hours straight now. Pretty soon, it was going to show in his demeanour.



"Conscience keeping you awake?" Hermione spoke, for what felt like the first time in ages. Her voice was croaky, from the lack of use. Hermione had encountered this problem before, but it was usually down to being a chatterbox, not the other way round. "Funny, how an overnight vigil is more informative than camaraderie amongst deatheaters. You may all slap each others backs down there, but it\'s what happens in private that speaks volumes. I\'d almost feel sorry for you, if I didn\'t know about your heinous crimes. How many have you killed? How many children!"



Malfoy stood up, sending the fire whisky flying into the depths of the room. Hermione flinched; but tamed her frightened outlook rather quickly. She owed it to these nameless souls, to ask these questions. If she didn\'t, then who else?



"What did I tell you," he threatened, clenching his fists.



"Oh, bore off!" Hermione scoffed. "I\'ve known you since you were a cowardly 11-year-old. When you were defenceless and weak. The very quality you rely on, to exploit victims and kill them mercilessly. Except they all had one thing you didn\'t have."



"And what was that?" Malfoy spat.



"Bravery."



"Ah, yes." An ugly look overtook his pale face. "The famed characteristic every Gryffindor displayed in battle. The characteristic that can be easily mistaken for it\'s twin, foolishness."



"That\'s right," Malfoy, who had shrugged his shirt back on, reached for the buckle holding his trousers up. "You\'ve been very foolish by disobeying, Granger."



For a horrible second, Hermione thought he was going to undo his fly. But Malfoy merely pulled out his entire belt in one sleek line, and tested the weight of the metal head in his hand. Was he…? She could only watch him so far, as he walked around her, and stood insanely close to her behind.



If he was breathing in her scent, he would\'ve caught fear rolling off in waves. She trembled, as he reached for the hemline of her shift. His fingers, bare, made sizzling contact with her thighs. Agonizingly, he drew up the frayed cotton and a breeze wafted through that area. Hermione knew she hadn\'t washed in days. Draco knew she hadn\'t washed in days. But the humiliation she felt, as her fragrance permeated the air was staggering.



Draco fisted the material on her nape for leverage, and brought the belt down on her thighs like a whip. Hermione gave a surprised shriek, which was rapidly followed by another lash. Now Draco knew what he was looking for, Hermione was determined not to let him get it. He flagellated her a few more times, but nothing escaped past her lips than a pained whimper.



Frustrated, he decided to implement a rule.



"From now on, you must refer to me as master."



The mudblood didn\'t respond, too busy compartmentalising the stinging burn spreading across her regions. Malfoy whipped her again, repeating the rule.



"Y-Yes…" she nodded, delirious.



"Yes what?"



"Yes, master!" she half-gasped.



Malfoy let the sack drop back down, evolving a new form of torture. The feel of textured material, against stripped skin was horrific. This time, screams echoed around the bedroom as Malfoy deliberately rubbed the material into her thighs.



With that same breath, he cut down the chains holding her and let Hermione collapse to the ground, curling up into a foetal position.



"Ouch," he pretended to wince.





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Draco left, shortly after ten, to prioritise his daytime activities. Now The Dark Lord was overtaking this world, the number of raids escalated by the day. Muggle families were fleeing their houses, and camping in all sorts of strange places.



It gave Draco great pleasure sniffing them out, and exterminating them.



He returned that night, with a scrape down his chin where a particularly insolent muggle had scratched him, as the fight died from his eyes. Bellatrix was waiting for him, tapping her foot by the banister.



"My dearest nephew," she greeted.



"Aunt," he touched the place, conscious it was bloody.



"I heard the most delightful screams coming out of your room this morning. May it continue in earnest."



"It shall."



"Has the piece of filth, revealed Potter yet?" Bellatrix rocked on her heels, portraying an indecisive mind. She had been clearly waiting to ask this question all day.



"She will."



He shrugged with assurance, confident in his abilities. All that whipping he did, was preparation for what was to come. If that still didn\'t work, he could always use Veritaserum on her deathbed.



"Oh!" Bellatrix suddenly gave a loud giggle. "I forgot to tell you! Old friends have come to visit! They\'re waiting in the Parlour!" She gave another snigger, before sashaying up the stairs, a long black drape crowning her shoulders, like she was the empress of unmentionable horrors.



Draco full-out wiped his chin with the palm of his hand, before his shoes clipped their way to the Parlour. Theodore and Blaise were waiting inside, helping themselves to his father\'s liqueur cabinet. They didn\'t rush to hide the evidence when Draco stepped in. Rather they toasted their glasses in his direction, and downed it in one go.



"Boys."



"Draco!" Blaise slammed the crystal, on top of a coffee table. "What\'s this I hear about a slave? Bring her out! Bring her out!"



"Lucky bugger," Theodore\'s gaze was appreciative. "I wish I had a slave for sexual favours. The amount of spunk that would be invested down her throat-"



"It\'s not sexual," Draco\'s eyes sharpened. "Sleeping with a foul, smelly and undeserving creature is not an option. I would rather saw off my left arm."



Theodore shut his mouth, looking chastised. Blaise leaned forward, eager to confirm the rumours. "Is it true? Do you have Granger?"



Almost on cue, a loud knock sounded in the parlour room and the door swung open to reveal a house-elf, shaking with nerves. "Master!" he squeaked. "Mistress asked me to bring slave here! She said she had a feeling you might need her!" A skinny arm travelling beyond the doorframe tugged, and Granger stumbled into view.



She looked exactly how he left her. A bloodied mess with scarecrow hair. Blaise let out a long whistle, and slowly began to clap as Granger stumbled in, and grabbed hold of an armrest to secure her footing.



Her eyesight was clearly blurred. She was trying to focus on the three of them, but a lack of food and rest, was addling her senses. Hermione took what she thought were three steps forward, but ended up four steps sideways. She tripped over Blaise\'s outstretched legs, and ended up in his lap.



"Merlin, she reeks." Blaise held his nose. "Scrougify."



Draco\'s mouth opened and closed. An element of power he held over her, was the fact she couldn\'t access hygiene. A truly nightmare scenario, if he knew anything what Granger was like. But Blaise had taken that control away from him, with a wave of his wand. What right did that fucker have?



Blaise was now visibly groping the girl. Hermione\'s reactions were lethargic. She knew she was being violated, but every time she moved a limb to form a piece of resistance, she was met with thin air or a dry chuckle near her head. Her breast was being roughly palmed, as if assessing the weight of dry meat.



"Plausible," Blaise noted. "Hey, Granger. How do you like the idea of sucking cock?"



Theodore made a noise of anxiety, quickly glancing at Draco\'s face, devoid of any emotion. Blaise caught the look, and threw his hands out. "What? Beating her, fucking her. It\'s all a form of abuse. And since Draco here is unwilling to do it…"



They were met with a quiet click of the door. Theodore caught the wisp of blond hair stepping out, before Blaise gave a loud whoop, and hugged Hermione painfully to him.



Outside, Draco was breathing hard, a single strand of hair out of place. He willed himself to walk down the corridor, and not return for fifteen minutes. But a sharp cry, made him shove open the door and blast Blaise to the other side of the Parlour, into a mirror hanging over the mantelpiece in seconds. Both Zabini and the mirror fell to the floor; shattered.



"If anyone is going to shove a cock into her mouth, it\'s me!" he menaced.



"OK man, I got it," Blaise groaned, clutching his nose. "You should have said so in the beginning."



"Get out." Draco couldn\'t stand to look at their faces any longer. Their opportunist need to shag muggleborns, repulsed him. The own words that had exited out of his mouth, repulsed him. He stared at them thunderously, until they muttered their respective homes, and stepped into the fireplace.



Granger was still lying on the sofa, staring unseeingly at the ceiling.



"Pathetic!" he spat at her. "You pride yourself in strong speech, yet can\'t handle the attentions of two numbskulls. Useless, useless, useless!"



"Malfoy…" she whispered, and he was alarmed to see tears spring into her eyes.



"Don\'t you dare!" he stood over her face and glowered. "Don\'t you dare cry, whilst you say my name! My name has nothing to do with you!"



"Why?" she whispered, dashing them away with the back of her hand. "Does it tug your conscience? Does it make you feel?"



"Right," Draco reached for his buckle and undid it not for the first time today. He hadn\'t been expecting to discipline her till tomorrow morning, but she was getting on his last nerve. Granger exhaled a moan, when he balanced a knee on her midsection and held her knees together. It quickly turned into full-blown crying, as the belt garrotted against her shins.



Over and over. His face was turning blue from exertion.



"What\'s the matter?" he taunted. "You did so well this morning, keeping your sobbing to yourself. What\'s changed? Huh? What\'s changed?"



"You!" she half- sobbed. "It\'s you!"



Malfoy was so shocked, his arm froze mid-air and the belt hung ludicrously in his hand. He stared down at the patterns, raising up to her skin to indicated the beating he\'d given her, and felt white hot rage swelling in his abdomen.



"What do you mean?"



Hermione jumped at the chance to explain her strange choice of vocalisation. "There\'s something lurking under that exterior. Something that can recognise the light. You never even wanted to go down this path, did you Malfoy? But you thought you had no choice."



The only way she knew what Draco was feeling, was the tautness of his shoulders facing her. She risked her life to plough on.



"Help me, Malfoy." She blinked rapidly. "Help me now, and Harry would spare your life when he wins the war."



Hermione wasn\'t able to see the range of expressions crossing Draco\'s face. First, it was disbelief mingling with hope, before that was chased by a dark cloud that descended upon his features.



"No deal," he uttered, a smirk crossing his face.



O



AN: Thanks to my only reviewer, Morningsnow. To answer your question, "Two-parter" means this story is going to be told in 2 halves. First part = Hermione as Draco\'s slave. Second part = When the tables have turned. I\'ll leave you to figure out what that means!