Nobody's Girl

Hermione was called early the next day to Draco's room. She was washed thoroughly again, and given another set of new, clean clothes. It wasn't near so horrible this time, as she knew what was going on and what to expect.

She was led up the same stairs and down the same hall to the same room as yesterday. The same procedure took place, as the servants gave a knock, were brought in by Draco, and were waved out by him after he had verified that she was clean. Draco seemed in particularly high spirits today, and was visibly excited. He paced around the room as if he were looking for something. Finally he stopped in front of her.

"We're going to have some fun today!" he said brightly, "Or at least, I'm going to have some fun."

Hermione simply looked at him curiously as he went back to rummaging around the room.

A short while later he dropped to the floor and looked under his large canopy bed, which was lined with black curtains. He emerged from the other side of it with a small piece of parchment in his hand. "Found it!" he exclaimed.

"Found what?"

"My notes for the curse we're practicing today!" he said cheerily, scanning the parchment with his eyes. He pulled out his wand and seemed to be practicing for a moment before he folded the parchment and crammed it into one of the pockets of his robes.

Hermione stiffened. This was the part that she had dreaded. She wondered what awful things would be done to her. Would he really hex her hair off? It wasn't exactly her best feature, but she couldn't imagine being bald. Or what if he hexed her nose to grow into a huge, wart covered monstrosity? She nearly shuddered.

Suddenly she saw him raise his wand and mutter something that she couldn't make out. No accident, since it was forbidden for Mudbloods to learn magic and most wizards and witches refrained from speaking curses to where they could hear them. A red-orange glow sprang from his wand and washed over her. She flinched slightly, then exhaled. She immediately reached up to make sure her hair was still there. It was, thank God.

She examined the rest of her body, trying to find out what the curse had done, but before she could even get to her feet, she felt a wave of nausea sweep over her that nearly sent her to the ground. She began to feel hot and feverish. She broke out into a sweat, her skin went pale except for a few red blotches along her cheeks and neck. Her hair was beginning to flatten because of the moisture from her sweat.

When she could no longer stand she crumbled to the floor. She tried to fan herself with her hand, but it did nothing to help. "It's... so hot!" she cried between gasps, finding it hard to breathe.

Draco was positively beaming. "It worked! Oh, this is better than I had imagined!"

Hermione looked up at him. "What... was that... curse?!"

"A heat spell, designed to make it feel as if your blood is boiling." Draco said proudly.

Hermione heaved, thinking that last night's supper would surely be splattered across the floor in another minute. She felt so very sick. But the worst part was the terrible heat. The brown robe felt like a prison. Ignoring modesty, she pulled it open and climbed out of it, kicking it away from her as if it were a snake.

In a moment of temporary relief from the heat, she noticed Draco's slightly surprised eyes roaming over her. For an instant she wanted to put the robe back on, but couldn't bring herself to do it. The heat was already coming back.

Draco watched her with great interest. For some reason, he hadn't imagined that the curse would result in her crawling around his room in her underwear, but something told him he should be happy for it. Her eyes met his for a moment but he diverted them quickly to the rest of her, trying his best to look like he was only interested in the effects of the spell.

"Well, this was a great success," he said, more calmly than before.

"The... counter-curse... please!" she called, gasping for air.

"Maybe tomorrow," he said wickedly.

"I'll die by then!" she forced out, "Then what... use will I be?!"

Draco sighed and reached into his pocket. He pulled the parchment out again and looked over it.

"Hurry!" she screamed, clutching her stomach in an attempt to hold down the food.

Draco gave her an angry look. "You'll live another hour at least. If you don't keep your dirty Muggle mouth shut, I'll wait till then!" After Hermione nodded heavily, Draco whispered the counter-curse.

Hermione immediately felt better. It was like she was free. She pulled herself to her feet and took a minute to catch her breath. She pushed the damp hair away from her forehead. She looked down and remembered that she had discarded her robe. Going slightly pink, she went over to get it.

The robe was not where she'd left it. Draco was standing a couple of feet away from her, holding it up. "Drop something, Mudblood?"

She stepped forward and reached up to get it, but he jerked it out of her reach. "If you don't take care of the gifts we give you, we may just have to take them away."

"Give it back to me," she said as calmly as she could.

"And what else are you supposed to say?" he asked with a grin.

"Please?"

He reached her the robe and watched her put it on. "You know, if you were a real witch, you'd look stunning in green robes."

Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy. Green robes were reserved for the highest class witches, the richest and most powerful women in the magical world. As a child Hermione had watched the beautiful witches in their emerald robes walking by her cell, and had cried over her rags and wished that she would someday have a robe like theirs. "Green's not my color," she finally said to him.

He looked at her with unblinking eyes, then said "You're right. Brown suits you so much better."

Hermione understood the insult. Brown robes were worn by the poorest, weakest, and ugliest witches in this society. They were the cheapest, costing barely over nothing. "Are we finished for today?" she asked quickly, happy to change the subject.

He nodded and turned around. "Knock for the servants yourself."

Hermione blinked. What was with his mood? All of a sudden he seemed bitter and upset. He had been so happy over the spell's success. What was wrong now? For a split-second she thought of asking him that question, but quickly came to her senses. In the chance that he would actually answer her, he would do so with an insult and she would only be left looking as if she cared, which she didn't. She felt no desire to feed his ego any further.

She knocked on the door and the two servant girls came hurriedly and led her back down to her cell. Lunch was waiting for her there. She ate it sullenly, taking no pleasure in its taste this time. She felt bitter and upset too, yet she couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. She spell had been painful, but not half as bad as she had expected, and had only lasted a few minutes.

She decided to ignore her feelings for a while and take a nap. She had literally nothing else to do. She laid back on her cot and tried to fall asleep, but found that she couldn't. She must've had too much sleep the night before. She tossed a few times, and turned a few times more, but still she lay awake. Every time sleep came close, she would begin to dream that Draco hadn't given her the counter-curse and that she was still suffocating and burning in his room. She would see him standing over her, sneering.

But she would always snap awake before the dream got too far, and she felt a mix between annoyance at the lack of sleep and gratitude that the nightmare didn't last.

About an hour later, she finally fell asleep. It was not a peaceful sleep however, for the nightmare finally carried on. She even dreamed that she had resorted to tearing off her underwear and Draco had stared at her until the humiliation had become worse than the heat. But when she reached for them to try to pull them back on, Draco burst them into flames with his wand and told her she would not be given another set.

She awoke with a gasp and sat bolt-upright on the cot. She was sweating again, but it was because of her own frustration and anxiety this time. She threw herself back down and forced herself to calm down. "It's over for today," she told herself, "The curse is gone, and I don't have to see him again till tomorrow."

Finally she fell asleep again, but she had nightmares still, and it wasn't long before she was awake again to face the long hours of solitude and confinement. Slavery was horrible, she decided, and it couldn't go on like this forever. She would escape, and if it killed her, she would help set others like her free.