Mod!Dena (despair_mod_d) wrote in despairrp, @ 2007-12-30 03:56:00 |
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Chores, scrubbing the floor, laying out dinner...wasn't that what a servant was supposed to do? Of course, Hermione knew she was anything but a servant. It also didn't help that her master happened to be one of her worst enemies...and was dying for any bit of revenge he could extract. It was her bloody luck that he did that in any way possible...except one way, thankfully enough. He had yet to touch her and for once, since she was auctioned off, she was thankful for her bloodline. She had heard the rumours of slaves being sexually abused before and after being bought but it was her graced luck that Draco had done nothing of the sorts. He seemed too terrified to even barely touch her, thankfully so. Of course, that didn't prevent him from humiliating her in other ways and forcing her to be seen in a way she had never, yet, allowed someone to see her. All of this was done just to make her squirm, just to test her levels of frustration. She knew him far too well to know that he was just waiting for the day she would snap but she wouldn't let him be privy to that. No, she had other plans, that was certain. Besides, it only helped her own frustration level whenever she would watch his own grow just at her calm demeanor.
Unfortunately, that demeanor almost broke the day of the auction. Ron had always been a weak spot for her and it was her only luck that Malfoy knew that all too well. He used it any chance he could get, at home, and especially in public. Of course, it only worsened things when she had spotted the fiery red-head chatting with Megan Jones. Even with everything going on, she knew for certain she did not like how close they were...or especially how he had touched her hand when helping her up. It annoyed her to no end that she was letting such a simple thing get to her, especially in light of the situation going on around him. Yet, she couldn't help it. It was Fleur and Lavender all over again and Hermione was letting every nuance get to her. Luckily, the presence of Bellatrix Lestrange helped cool over her mood and she had gone back to focusing on how to keep a calm demeanor.
At least, she was able to keep that demeanor until now...two days later. She had attempted to keep at Malfoy's assigned task but as she did so, the image started to float back in her head, something that became even easier after he had replied to her journal. She gathered Malfoy had noticed her lack of focus at the task at hand because soon enough he had replaced the document before her with a list of wanted House Elves. Apparently there were group, perhaps being led by Dobby, that were now trying to outrun the new and hardened Ministry. She frowned deeply as she looked at the list, Dobby's name the first she eyed. She glanced up to her master, pursed her lips, and allowed her eyes to fall to the parchment once more. Her quill scratched notes upon the document, her mind now trying to numb what she was doing. If he had noticed her discomfort, it would certain be her own undoing and she didn't even want to imagine what would happen next.
Draco had been standing quietly, glancing out at the window. The lush yards of the Manor would soon be covered with numerous warmed tents and coverings for the guests, the grounds themselves spectacularrly decorated, and all mammer of other such arrangements that still had to be made. He turned as he heard a slight pause. "Something the matter, Granger?" he asked, rubbing his temple slightly, his voice with a harder edge than normal.
"There are many things that need to be done, so I would like it if you could see fit to getting things done as quickly as possible." Oh yes, he had a lot to discuss with her. Business first, and then there would be the matter about why he had noted an unusual discrepency in her journal, and upon tryig to discover any enchantments, had found his face covered in spots. He'd a rather difficult time in removing them, and was not hapy in the slightest.
Hermione had found herself clearing her throat as she gave a small shake of her head. "Nothing is wrong at all...", she muttered as she scribbled another note upon the parchment. She could feel her back stiffen at his tone of voice. She always hated when he sounded like that and knew there was something more to it. She made a note not to turn back and look at him just yet, she certainly didn't want to confirm her fears.
She made her last note upon the document, slightly feeling reluctant about finishing so quickly. It was her own damned luck that she had always been an efficient worker...even when it came to the chores Malfoy assigned to her. She finally turned around, knowing she couldn't avoid his glare any longer. The parchment was now in her hand, held out to him as she gave a small nod. "There...it is finished." She looked away and slowly rose from her chair. "I gather you're going to give me the plans for the ball now?" She had a sneaking suspicion there was something else going on but she wasn't about to speculate. She had been so careful within her journal...except for that one slipped private to Hannah but other than that, she had made sure to cover her tracks. He couldn't have been that wary, could he? Merlin, she hoped Harry would at least stop with the privates. He was going to end up getting the both of them in trouble sooner or later.
He took the piece of parchment, not looking at it for the moment. He hadn't noted the private wards in regards to Hannah, as he had been rather occupied. The reason for that had been he had noted a rather curious part about not being ill, with apparently no reason to say so. Something had to be there, so he had tried to discover it, only to find himself somehow suddenly covered in spots. Spots. On his perfect pureblood features. He was not happy about that.
"So who was it that was so concerned about your health?" he asked, glancing down at the parchment. It was a bit pointless, as even though she undoubtedly disliked it, it would be error free. But she would certainly get the message that he would be keeping careful observations over everything. "Certainly no one would think that I would mistreat one that I have been given the task of properly integrating one into wizarding society, do they?" He had noted that Weasly had contacted her, but that was nothing more than the petty stuff from school still that he had quickly tired of.
Hermione's hand stilled suddenly, still gripping the quill within her hand. Merlin, that inquiry had been from Harry. She knew it! She shouldn't have replied to him! At least Ron hadn't gone to the effort of a private message, leaving things open for Draco to openly inspect. It was a bit unnerving, however, that he was inspecting her things like an overly concerned parent would. However, she wasn't in the least bit surprised he would stoop to such levels and she wasn't going to entertain him by fighting it either.
She, instead, gave a mere shrug. "Just a stately older woman, inquiring about my health. I gather she feared your family a good bit and wished to remain anonymous...so, I cannot tell you her name. I did, however, inform her how well I was being taken care of and that I am most certainly not ill or even close to being ill." Though, you constantly drive me to the point of wanting to vomit., she added silently in her head. She wasn't going to get Harry in trouble, not in the least bit, especially after all he had said to her. No, he had moved her too much to go on and be a tattle. Besides, he had taught her in their first year the importance of friendship and even with their current state, she wasn't going to break that silent vow. Her eyes slowly rolled up to meet her Owner's. "No one believes you mistreat me and I make sure that they don't if they have some suspicion. So you're in the clear."
He finished reading the parchment, and set it aside, glancing up. He didn't believe her, not for a moment. But also, he had no proof otherwise. He could try to break the wards again, but he was not fond of the effects from the first attempt. He'd have to find some way around that. Unfortunately, the Cruciatis Curse wasn't an option either, as there were still certain formalities that had to be observed until the Dark Lord's reign was supreme.
"Very well," he said, pulling out several other rolls of parchment. "My father has decided that the Ministry's Yule Gala shall be held here at the Manor. Obviously, not all the guests shall be able to fit inside, so I, and by that I mean we, have to arrange for pavilions, as well as seating the guests accordingly." So, he failed to mention that by 'we' he meant 'you'. It was understood, anyways, wasn't it? He had other things to attend to, such as Quidditch practice and trying to discover those that still tried to defy the Dark Lord.
Hermione could feel a bit of relief flowing through her now. At least he was buying it...No, she didn't really believe he had bought her rubbish lie but he was dropping it. That was at least enough to tide her over for now. She placed the quill back into its inkwell and turned back to him. She knew from the moment she had spotted that statement about a ball that she would be run over with extra chores. That was fine, however. It only gave her more opportunities to do other such things, especially now that he'd more than likely be fairly busy himself.
She had almost, almost, scoffed at the idea of seating accordingly. All it meant was to keep the lower-ends away from the higher-ups, that was all. She kept her face stern as she gave a firm nod. "Pavilions? Alright, the garden should be rather large enough for two to four spacious pavilions. Perhaps, each housing 20 to 40 individuals, I believe." She turned around and lifted a blank piece of parchment from the table, as well as taking the quill back out of its inkwell. She jotted down a few notes, as well as quickly scribbling up a slight layout of the gardens outside. "Alright, I'll get to it right away. Anything else...Master Malfoy?" She did her best to keep the bite out of her voice and was pleasantly surprised to see it had gone down quite considerably from her first day within the Manor. She gathered that it had improved with practice, a fact that saddened her slightly.
"Yes, that sounds about right. Though make certain that the pavilions do not disturb the peacocks." He glanced at the expected guest list, knowing that many of those wouldn't be included in the final list. Assuming Granger had her numbers right, which was a certain thing, those arrangements would be satisfactory.
though of course, he couldn't just leave her to be like that. No, that just wouldn't be right. "How's Weasley?"
Hermione gave a mere nod as she moved her quill to jot the quick note. It was so ironic that the bastard cared enough not to disturb the peacocks though she truly assumed that was more for presence than for the sake of the poor animals. If he had truly cared, he wouldn't have had them in the first place...at least that was what she had always believed. Either way, she was going to make it a priority that the pavilions were far away from the birds. Merlin only knew what a drunken lot of wizards would have done to such poor creatures if they were near.
Her eyes quickly flickered back up at the ever familiar last name, widened of course. She gulped for a moment and quickly looked back down at the list, as if nothing had disturbed her. "Yes, a few over to this side and then over there...and fenced perhaps so as to keep the peacocks out..." She then gave a mere shrug, as if it had never disturbed her. "I wouldn't know, we only barely spoke through my last journal entry. Nothing much was said."
In all honesty, Draco didn't care for the birds being on the premises. He would have been happy to be rid of them, have them someplace else, but his father insisted on having them, like they were some sort of status symbol or something. Who the rudy hell cared if someone had white peacocks adorning the Manor grounds? It was the name that mattered, not the sort of birds about. The birds really belonged someplace else, but try convincing his father that.
He glanced up. He'd seen that not much was said, but that wasn't what bothered him. He knew all to well that they had means of communicating otherwise. In fact, he himself had used their idea from their DA group to communicate wtih Madam Rosemerta when he held her under the Imperius Curse. No, it was what wasn't said that worried him. Some secretly hexed communications and non-talk with Weasley? Why shouldn't he have cause to worry about it? "Always reassuring to know that one has so many people cared about one's welfare so as to say nothing," he said.
Hermione pursed her lips slightly as she side glanced him. It was her bloody luck she was stuck with him...her damned bloody luck. Alright, her luck...and Malfoy's own well-plotted scheme. She had heard him quite clearly during the auction with Clint Warrington and truly already had her suspicions. The fact that he, of all people, would quickly take her as a slave was not surprising and seemed more calculating than anything else but she wasn't going to let that get to her. No, she was already stuck in this position, with Malfoy questioning her like an overprotective, nosey mother...except she knew he wasn't overprotective for her sake.
She gave a mere shrug, still pretending to look over the newly written plans. If Merlin was truly magical, he would make Malfoy buy another slave just to distance her from the prat...but at this moment, he was most certainly not doing so. "Perhaps...it wasn't as if I knew that woman and Ron...Mr. Weasley...really didn't say much. So, I do not believe it was of much concern. And you will need some material for a fence to keep the birds away. They do tend to frighten easily and I fear without some barrier holding them...they'll tend to disperse among the guests...and I highly doubt you would want that." Nor did she truly care but...this was her life now and she was going to have to deal with it as well as she could...even if it made her constantly need to vomit.
Draco smirked slightly. The thought of Weaselby being referred to as 'Mister' just seemed ludicrous. He turned his attention back to the sheet before him. "Yes, I don't think that would be wise, having them wander amongst the guests. I do wish Father would see fit to place them elsewhere, but... he apparently wil not hear of it." He sighed, setting the paper aside. "See to the necessary arrangements, and if you can possibly find some means of convincing him that someplace else would be best for the birds, do not hesitate to mention it."
He turned to glance out the window, lost in his thoughts. There was a lot going on, he was certain of it. What, he wasn't completely certain. It did merit more attention, he was certain. Yes, sitting back and watching carefully, observing unseen until the right moment to strike.
Hermione could feel her eyes widen slightly. She truly always hated being sent to the older Malfoy. There was something more cold and calculating about him that made him more sinister than his son. To have to go and convince him of something she wasn't sure even his son could made her panic just a tiny bit. Despite her own inner worries, she managed a slight nod. "Yes, well I do believe he is coming over for tea tomorrow, isn't he? I...I will try to mention it then." Oh it was still laughable, the older Malfoy listening to anything the 'dear little mudblood Granger' had to say.
She glanced back up to him, worrying her lip as she eyed him for a momeet. He was thinking about something else, she knew it...or at least could sense it. What it was, she had no idea and she wasn't entirely sure she cared to know. Instead she just placed her parchment and quill down and nodded. "Alright then, I'll get to the plans now unless there is something else you care to ask me?"
Draco moaned slightly at the reminder of his father coming for tea. True, he had admired him growing up, but after the events at the end of his fifth year, when he'd found out that his father was more talk than anything, and the events of his sixth year, when it was only with the teachings of his aunt and not his father that had gotten him to nearly complete his mission, he'd thought less of him. Though, as the rest of what she said passed through that momentarily dislike, he turned back, smirking. But of course, that would be even better, having her tell his father, instead of telling him, so that he could relay the information. "No, that shall do for the moment," he answered cooly. "Thogh I shall of course call you if anything else arises."