Dark Days

By: dolce-bebe

Disclaimer: Yes a lot of people wish they owned Harry Potter and the characters, but sadly none of us do, they belong to JK Rowling (

Summary: What if there never was a Harry Potter? What if Voldemort ruled over all? Muggles are killed, and Mudbloods are imprisoned. As Draco Malfoy nears the age 20, Lucius decides to give him a mudblood slave...

A/N: It's been so long! Wow I'm glad that this fic has gotten a lot of reviews! Sorry I haven't updated, I've had a lot of ideas where to go from the last chapter but my old computer kept getting viruses, thus all my work disappearing. But the fact that the fifth movie's coming out, I've felt inspired and well, I hope that this chapter's not so much of a disappointment! Reviews welcome please )


Honestly! How could his father do this to him? Yes, he had plenty of mudbloods before, but as a gift? Never the less, half the population in London was in the presence of their manor. People would start talking, Death Eaters, reporters, gossips... and what of the Dark Lord? What would he think of him now?

It had been hours later and Draco could not have been more relieved to see the guests leave and even more so when he had managed to keep his eyes averted from his feet as he bade farewell to the Dark Lord. The girl, under Lucius' orders had been sent to Draco's room to wait for his arrival.

Oh how he loathed his father. Of course no one had said anything out loud upon the arrival of the girl, neither had the Dark Lord, but what about once his back was turned? The rumors and the embarrassment! The Malfoy name was not something to be taken lightly with. They were a rich, sophisticated, yet cruel family, but no, Lucius had chosen him a mudblood for a present; hardly a benefit to him at all. She was worth less than a penny! Certainly people would talk, thinking that the word "Malfoy," had no specific wealth embedded in the name. They were going to be thought of as cheap, reduced filth!

Draco cursed under his breath as he stormed angrily through the halls of the now empty Malfoy Manor and into Lucius' office. He burst through the door and slammed it shut, hoping to get a point across, but Lucius simply sat at his desk his eyes averted from his son's and directed down towards the paperwork he had been reading.

"You had better have a good explanation for this—" Draco started, slamming his hands over the top of the desk.

Lucius did not flinch and kept his eyes away from Draco as he continued to read, a smirk displayed upon his lips.

His son gritted his teeth angrily. "So you think this is funny, do you?" he snarled, "Well I do hope you're happy, father. Our name will be the laughing stock of this town! More than that—the Dark Lord was in the room, or did you cease to notice?"

"Yell if you must," Lucius drawled, "I had reasons for getting you such filth." He blinked for a moment then cocked his head upwards to meet his sons glare. "Did it not occur to you that many women in this world are simply taught what to do and what not to do?"

Draco raised one eyebrow questioningly. "What?"

Lucius continued, "Women are born only for the soul purpose to be our possession, for us to do as we please. Rag dolls they all are, especially now. There are very little who still think that they have control of themselves. Most simply lay there and leave us very unsatisfied, do you not agree Draco?"

"What are you getting at? Stop talking in riddles," Draco growled. He had always hated it when his father would talk for hours in riddles. Why not just get straight to the point?

Leaning back in his chair, Lucius fumbled with his paper and documents, "Some like a little spirit in our women. We love it that they fight back, that they rebel and show signs of emotion. It is so satisfying to know that you have tamed the pure and salvaged their souls, not just get the hand me downs and rag dolls that are out in the streets or in the shops."

Draco's eyes widened, "You mean to tell me that she is a—a—"

"A virgin?" Lucius finished off, "Do you honestly expect me to get you something that has been used already?" He smirked at his son's expression, "This one has still got some spirit. Apparently she was found rebelling against the Dark Lord, so she must have a lot of energy. Would it not be fun to break her?"

--

The girls eyes flashed open and she winced slightly, tugging at the heavy, metal chains around her wrist. She was permanently bound to the leg of a queen sized bed in a particularly large room. She bit her bottom lip, trembling from the shock as she observed her surroundings. The room was huge, perhaps the size of a living room, with chairs, a love seat couch, dark satin curtains and a heavy marble floor. Where was she and how could she have been so easily captured?

She growled angrily and tugged at the chains again, wanting to escape. She was not some tool or some puppet to be sold off to, especially not to the Malfoy's. She knew all about them, yes she did. They were always all over the papers. Followers of the Dark Lord, they were; Death Eaters even. Yes, she remembered it well. The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were the reason that they lived in fear, in agony, in horror, and it was the very reason that she was in the alleyway when she was captured.

The day was dark, as it had always been. She remembered that he would make a public appearance, calling out for more followers. It was their chance! She and some others despised his ways, and only lived to put an end to his demise. They had all arrived, wands at the ready, waiting and hiding. It was all at the right opportunity, but he seemed more powerful than they had imagined. He was everywhere and he knew everything, anticipating their every move.

He had lurched forward, his aura of darkness dispersing and surrounding the skies. Then it was over. That was how she was captured and taken into the shop. There, she had thought that she herself had fallen mad. The women that were locked up were mangled and were driven mental. They would bang at the bars and scream for a customer to take them.

But not her, she would not succumb to their type. She was not as low as they, but... she was bought. One way or another, she was here, with no wand no less. How would she be able to defend herself against those monsters? Lost in thought, her head shot up as she heard the great marble doors opening.

Trying to scramble to the furthest part of the room, but only succeeding half way with the help of her chains, the girl seethed and pulled angrily at them, intent on breaking free. She would not be some rag doll to some spoiled, rich brat.

She ceased her movement when she saw the young Malfoy approach her and threw him a glare.

Draco only smirked at her futile attempt to escape. She truly was pathetic, yet most would not even move upon captivity. So his father was right after all. He kneeled down close to her, observing her face closely.

She was not beautiful, but pretty enough. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown, her curly, damp hair fell past her breasts, and her lips a pale rose. Draco scrunched his nose. But the girl was filthy and in need of a bath judging from the dirt and stains on her face and body. He would fix all that. None of his mistresses would go around looking like some peasant. For a mudblood though, she was certainly... up to standards.

"What is your name, girl?" he drawled.

His ice, cold eyes met hers and she glared, still struggling from the chains. She was convinced that if she would not tell him her name that she would be tortured one way or another. The Malfoy's have always been known for their lack of mercy to those who defied them.

"Hermione Granger," she growled out, breaking his gaze.

Draco raised an eyebrow all too satisfied that she had spoken, or the fact that she could speak at all, but mostly due to the fact of her defiant tone. Most would tremble in fear, cower, or cry when spoken to, but not this one. His father was right, the game had not even begun and he was already enjoying himself. Oh yes, he would break her and he would take pleasure in knowing it. Smirking, he leaned in close to her face, and whispered in her ear.

"Very well, Hermione Granger, you may call me, Master..."


Short huh? I didn't want to put too much, but I wanted it to end like that haha. Sorry! ) I will write again soon. This Harry Potter mania is filling my head once more, so you may expect updated stories or a few new ones! ) Reviews are welcome )