Sold

Ever since the night of the Slytherin party, Hermione had become increasingly disgusted with herself. She was sitting in the middle of her bed staring at the ceiling while Draco took a shower after Quidditch practice. When he was done, he would come into their room and do whatever he pleased with her body before falling asleep. If she tried to deny him, he would rape her and the law would hold it up as his right. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she had absolutely no choice in the matter. She wasn’t meant to be somebody’s play thing, dammit. Whenever she was stressed before, she would always make a list of things that were bothering her and then figure out a way in which she could change them.

Item number one: She was Mrs. Draco Malfoy. The ministry was still enforcing this horrendous law, so she couldn’t file for divorce. She COULD however continue her research on a way out of her marriage on a personal level. So far, she’d come up against a brick wall on all things. She hadn’t had time to research the final spell that Draco had used and her findings on all other Malfoy marriages showed no divorces or separations. A Claudius Malfoy had once lost his wife, Tatiana, for three months when she ran away and Hermione had gone over her case a million times trying to figure out why she failed. She discovered that the blood magic invoked allowed Malfoys to locate their spouses. It wasn’t instantaneous, but they could sense one another and this enabled Claudius to track her down and bring her back. Hermione had already healed one broken clavicle from the day she had tried to hide from Draco, so she could only imagine how furious he would be after three months.

Item number two: She was unable to use her magic to its full potential. Although she could turn her wand on any Slytherin who dared to make a snide comment, the second she pointed it at her husband, her magic failed her. She was also living with the constant threat of having her wand taken away if she didn’t comply with his demands. She couldn’t complain to the ministry because even with the frequent lobbying, the law was still in effect. He also had the ability to make her unable to speak with the wave of his hand. The stupid contract her cousin had signed gave him dominion over her and the stupid marriage ceremony strengthened it. Her entire sense of self-worth was wrapped up in her ability to excel in magic and she feared losing that more than she feared disfigurement or physical and mental pain. The more she defied him, the more he took away from her and she did not want to lose the one part of her that still felt powerful. True, Draco no longer had cause to fear her, but everyone else in society did. Her role in Voldemort’s downfall was remembered and the younger students already viewed her as a walking legend. If she wanted to help anybody else, she needed to be more cunning and manipulative. Giving in to him in the bedroom increased his respect for her outside of it. Maybe if she appeared more demure next to him in public, he would leave her alone long enough to put the fear of God into some of the other purebloods who were terrorizing their muggle-born and half-blood fiancés and spouses.

Item number three: She was eighteen and in all likelihood she was going to get pregnant very, very soon. She had always looked forward to children, but that was back when she had entertained the idea of being in love with their father. Right now, she would settle for being able to choose who their father was. The ministry had stolen that from her and her husband had taken the choice of when. He thought that he had destroyed her supply of contraceptive potion, but she had a back up and Luna was currently brewing her replacement. It was only a matter of time until he discovered it, but at least she could stall until she was out of school. It gave her some semblance of control.

Item number four: She was married to Draco Malfoy and he was the only man that she had ever had sex with while he had shagged everything with two legs and a skirt he came across. Even though he had promised to be faithful in their wedding vows, she was certain he still slept with other women. What else did he and Blaise do when they went off together in the evenings? There were lots of girls still vying for his attention and she was certain that he gave it. She had planned on giving herself to Ron and she would have been okay with her lack of variety if she was married to him. However, after his death she had thought that it would take a long time to find someone who could fill his shoes and she wasn’t planning on being a nun during her search.

The more she thought of her list, the angrier she grew. She was married to a horrible man who used her as his own personal whore and held every part of her life in his grip. Her world was turned upside down while his remained virtually the same with the exception of getting to shag her. From what she could tell, this did not displease him one little bit. She was like the grand prize of status symbol sex as he’d told her. She had been unreachable, unattainable and now she was exclusively his property. Even worse, she had to lower her standards if she wanted to go through the day unharmed or stay in school.

Thinking back to his admission about Blaise and the other Slytherins, she suddenly recalled Theodore Nott. He had offered to be gentle with her and had seemed genuinely upset at Draco’s use of physical force. She also thought of Draco’s reactions towards Nott. It was clear that the two had an unspoken rivalry. Hermione decided that she was going to strike item number four off her list. Draco didn’t need to know about it and he could never know because he would probably almost kill her. However, SHE would know and that’s all that mattered. It would serve to soothe her psyche.


On Thursday evening when Blaise and Draco disappeared, Hermione followed Nott into the library. Stealing her nerves, she walked over to him in the reference section.

“What are you doing out all by your lonesome, ‘Malfoy’?” Nott spat her new last name out as if it was a dirty word.

“I was actually hoping that you could help me get a book down from the Restricted Section. I don’t have my wand.” She studied him for a few moments. He actually was quite attractive and Danolita Meadows from Ravenclaw had once slept with him and declared to be very gifted with his fingers and tongue. Although she was excited about defying Draco and she thought the man walking in front of her was quite fit, her body wasn’t reacting. She blamed that on her psychological bruises that her husband had left on her regarding sex.

They reached the back corner and Nott asked, “Why don’t you walk over and try again, princess so I can see exactly how difficult this is for you.”

“It’s that red leather one, just beyond my fingers. I can’t find the book ladder or Madame Pince…” she trailed off because he had come up behind her and reached above her to get the book, pressing his body against hers. He brought his hand up to stroke her hair away from her neck and her gut suddenly rolled in protest.

“I think I know what you need, little girl,” he said and she shifted slightly, hoping that the nausea she was feeling would go away. She supposed it was because she was nervous and felt guilty about using someone and sleeping with a person she didn’t like. However, she reasoned that she would have felt worse using Seamus or someone else she actually held in high regard.

She never responded to his statement. Rather she allowed him to touch her through her clothing. Only instead of feeling the pleasant flutter of her nerves, it felt like she had the worst dry skin in the world and he was dragging sand paper over it. He mistook her shudder for a sign of pleasure because the next thing she knew, he had turned her around and crashed his lips down on hers. Instead of arousal or triumph the only thing she felt was revulsion and almost unbearable nausea.

Squashing the feeling down, she kissed him back and heard him moan in delight. His body still held hers captive so even though she wanted to, she couldn’t move back when his hands flew to her blouse. With each button he undid, Hermione’s sickness grew. It felt like her skin had been rubbed raw and his touch was like being scratched with owl talons. Why would Nott’s touch make her react like this? He was doing everything that Draco did to illicit a positive reaction, the only difference was that Nott was not her husband. It suddenly dawned on her that her reaction had to be the result of her marriage binding. She was furious!

She wasn’t furious enough however to actually go through with this anymore. The more Nott touched her, the worse the stinging pain and nausea grew. It was almost as bad as the cruciatus curse that Bellatrix Lestrange had cast over her the previous summer. Tears began to sting in her eyes, but she couldn’t voice anything to Nott because she was afraid that if she opened her mouth she would vomit. To make matters worse, she kept getting mental glimpses of Draco and she could feel anger. The anger was coming from her, but it wasn’t hers. She supposed it was part of the charm, to make her feel guilty. All it did however was increase her discomfort.

The tiny whimpers she was making only fueled Theo’s actions on further as he believed them to be signs that she was enjoying herself. After all, they were similar to the noises he’d heard coming from the broom closet. Hermione brought her shaking hands up to grip his biceps and he rained wounding kisses down her neck as he unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts in his hand. She cried out, but his face was buried in her neck and he had gripped her legs at the thighs, bringing them up around his waist he hoisted her up keeping her pinned to the shelves with his hips. It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat and used it as a battering ram against her pelvis. He hadn’t looked at her face since they had started and since Hermione could see no visible signs of the damage she felt so he had no clue what he was making her feel.

The pain was unbearable, but she choked out, “Nott, please…” as he ground himself against her. He was breathing heavily and panting as he came up to kiss her lips.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll get you there and it’ll be so good for you. You’re gonna be so glad we did this.” With that, he bent his head and with what Hermione assumed would have been a gentle lave of his tongue began to suckle her. However, it felt like her nipple had been raked over with a cheese grater. She cried out that time and there was no mistaking this cry. At the same time as Nott had swirled his tongue, Hermione got another mental flash of Draco and he was angry. What made her even more upset however was that she suddenly realized that he knew and he was coming to find her.

“What’s wrong?” Nott asked. He was still running his hands over her bared torso and he had finally taken notice of her pain twisted features. “Are they that sensitive? What does he do to you?”

“He knows,” she finally choked out. “I don’t know how, but he knows and he’s coming. You have to leave. We have to get out of here.” Nott still held her up with his hips and it was starting burn where he touched her.

Confused, he touched her face and said, “You’re just paranoid. He doesn’t know and he won’t. I know you’re bruised and sensitive in places even though it doesn’t show, but I’ll be so much gentler than him. Did it really hurt that badly?”

Hermione was trying to ease herself away from him when she heard a voice that made her blood run cold. “It won’t nearly as badly as what I’m about to do to you, Nott. Now kindly put my wife down. When I’m done with you she’s going to need a good, long reminder of who owns her.”


A/N- There, I hope this is interesting enough to keep certain readers happy. This fic only has about two or three chapters left. Thank you to everyone who has supported me and reviewed and generally been helpful. The next chapter should be up shortly. Cheers! G.C.