The Sweetest Sin

[A/N: There's a somewhat graphic bit about rape somewhere in the middle of the chapter, so don't read if you don't think you can stomach it.]

Chapter 2: Observations

At exactly six o'clock, Hermione arrived at the dining room. As she entered the large, circular room, she saw Draco, Pansy, and two children seated at the long table.

Looking at the children, she couldn't help but smile - they were the spitting images of their parents. The boy, who appeared to be the older of the two, had his mother's dark blonde hair and startling blue eyes, and the little girl sitting across from him had Draco's straight, white-blonde hair and piercing grey eyes. At the moment, the two children were laughing and playfully throwing napkins at each other.

What a change from their mother and father, Hermione thought wryly as she diverted her gaze to Draco and Pansy. They both sat stiffly on opposite sides of the table, and looked like they were making every attempt to not look at each other.

When Hermione coughed lightly to alert the family of her presence, all of the noise stopped. The little boy looked over at Hermione with wide eyes, and whispered loudly to Pansy, "Mum, who's that?"

"That's our new servant girl, Tommy," Pansy replied with a smile at her son. Hermione noted, to her surprise, that her old enemy seemed to genuinely adore her kids, as opposed to Draco, who was completely ignoring all of his daughter's attempts to catch his attention. "Sit down," added Pansy to Hermione, waving carelessly at a seat at the far end of the table.

Hermione took a step forward, but Draco stopped her by holding up a hand. "No, the Mudblood will sit on the ground."

"If you say so, love," responded Pansy, turning to help her daughter tie up her hair.

Cheeks burning, Hermione tried to decide what to do. I can't just let him embarrass me like that, one part of her mind argued. But as Draco began to stand up, she quickly sat down on the ground against the wall. The practical part of her had won over, once again.

Dinner passed by in silence. Hermione was made to sit on the ground and given scraps of food on a dirty plate. The entire time, she stared down at her food and refused to eat, even though her stomach was begging to be fed. No, I won't give him the pleasure of seeing me eat like a common street mutt.

"Pansy, take Thomas and Kathryn outside for a walk. I'd like to talk to the Mudblood in private."

Nodding obediently, Pansy took the hands of both of her little children and the three of them swept out of the room. When they were gone, Hermione turned her head to slowly face Draco, careful not to reveal her growing dread.

He stood up and walked toward her. Stopping a few inches away from her, he said in a dangerously low voice, "Eat."

"No."

"Say that again?"

"No, Malfoy, I won't eat."

Draco grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face down to the floor roughly. "Now will you eat?" he whispered into her ear.

Hermione gritted her teeth in pain. Nonetheless, she choked out, "No."

"Very well," he said, releasing his hold on her. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night then."

He snapped his fingers and immediately a tiny house-elf rushed into the room. "Clean up," he said simply to it. Then, without another look at Hermione, he left the room.

Hermione watched numbly as the house-elf bustled around, picking up plates and cups. It was careful to avoid looking at her, as if it were too good for her.

"...the lowest step on the priority ladder, you will obey orders from everyone else.." she whispered to herself out loud, recalling Draco's earlier words.

What have I been reduced to? Am I so worthless that even a house-elf is superior to me?

Standing up, Hermione slowly walked back to her room. She lay down on the hard bed and tried to sleep. After much tossing and turning, she slipped into unconsciousness. Even in her dreams, however, she could not find release from the thoughts that plagued her...

"Stop!" begged Hermione, her cheeks streaked with tears and her eyes closed in pain. She weakly tried to push him away, but he ignored her efforts and fiercely shoved into her again.

"Shut up, Mudblood, you know you like it," the man snarled. His tangled hair fell over his eyes and for a moment, Hermione imagined that the one making her body feel as though it were splitting in two was not a man, but a wild animal.

She sobbed wildly as he continued to grope her, his rough hands rubbing against her skin like sandpaper. The pain that had overtaken her body was unbelievable; everywhere from shoulder down throbbed, and she felt the stickiness of her own blood on her thighs. She felt no pleasure, only agony and an overwhelming feeling of disgust.

He brutally grabbed her upper arms, causing the sensitive skin there to bruise immediately. She cried out in pain, and he slapped her to silence her. His hand left a red, palm-shaped mark on her cheek that burned as she tried to imagine she was somewhere else, with someone else, anything to escape the torture.

Never would she forget the man who had taken away her virginity in such a way...never would a day pass by in which she didn't remember.

Hermione's eyes flew open. Her abdomen ached, as if everything she had dreamt of was happening again. She rolled over on the bed, burying her face into her pillow and trying to forget. That was two and a half years ago and still the memory haunted her.

At last she drifted off into a sleep that was, for once, undisturbed by past horrors. As her body relaxed its tossing and turning, the presence of someone else in the room went by unnoticed.

Draco stood in the doorway, watching the new Mudblood thrash around on her bed. He heard her cry out in a tortured voice, "Stop!" Wondering what it was that was disturbing her dreams, he continued to observe her quietly. Finally, her violent movements ceased, and her body became limp. Raising an eyebrow, Draco silently turned around and ascended the stairs.

Hermione woke up early the next morning. She lay still for a few moments, not wanting to open her eyes, but at last forced herself up and off the bed. Yawning, she trudged over to the mirror.

She frowned as she looked into it. "I've forgotten what it's like to wake up and like my reflection," she grumbled as she tugged at a strand of tangled hair in annoyance.

"You're the new servant girl now are you?" came a warm, motherly voice. Hermione looked up in surprise in time to see tiny ripples forming on the smooth glass surface of the mirror. A split second later, a face appeared.

"Er...yeah..." replied Hermione, somewhat taken aback.

The mirror chuckled. "I suspect you must be getting that a lot, eh?"

Hermione nodded in response.

"They like to ask silly questions like that," said the mirror, rolling its eyes. "Each of the new servants are required to go through the process. You're different from them, though. I'm quite sure of it. Not to mention the fact that Draco seems to have taken a particular liking to you."

With a snort of laughter, Hermione replied, "Malfoy? Liking to me?"

"You don't believe me? Well then, you're certainly a stubborn one. I suppose you'll just have to find out for yourself," answered the mirror with a wink. "Draco's like that too. Ever since his father died and he was left on his own" - it let out what sounded like a sigh of pity - "he's learned to shut down his feelings to other people and stop believing in what they tell him. Even his poor wife can't get close to him. Ah well...enough of my thoughts. A ponytail would be your best bet."

With that said, the face on the surface of the mirror smiled kindly at Hermione, then faded away.

"That was certainly different from anything I've experienced before," mumbled Hermione to herself as she took the mirror's advice and tied her unruly hair into a messy ponytail. She looked hopefully at her reflection, but the new hairstyle had not done much to improve her image. "So much for that idea..."

The mirror's words completely left Hermione's mind as she climbed up the stairs and entered the entrance hall. No one was up yet.

"I guess I have the house to myself," she remarked as she tiptoed over to the stairs. "Let's see what a Malfoy's house holds..."

An hour later, Hermione had explored the entire first and second floor. Everyone was still sleeping, and she was starting to get bored. She had found nothing of great interest except for a giant room full of clocks on the second floor.

I wonder what's on the third floor... she thought as she approached the stairs leading up to it. She placed a foot on the first step, and then stopped.

"You can't," she scolded herself. "Malfoy told you not to. He's your superior now; you have to obey what he says."

However, all of her years as Harry Potter's best friend had not led to nothing. Her curiosity pushed everything else out, and she began to ascend the richly carpeted stairs. When she reached the top, she looked around apprehensively. Nothing marked this level of the house as different from the others, so she decided it was safe to continue.

To her left and right extended long hallways. Oddly enough, there was not a single door in sight. The walls of both of them were, however, smothered in eloquent tapestries that were obviously ancient and worth fortunes. Hermione began to wander down the passageway to her right, examining a tapestry of two fire-breathing dragons in awe. As she did, something caught her eye - a little knob of wood that didn't look as if it belonged there. With her interest alerted, she began to reach out and push it.

Suddenly someone from behind Hermione grabbed her extended wrist and twisted it behind her back in one movement. Before she could spin around to face her attacker, she was shoved roughly up against the wall. She let out a cry of surprise mixed with pain when her cheek slammed against it with a dull thud.

"What are you doing here?" growled a low voice.