New World Order

A Dramione FanFiction

Chapter One

Hermione woke with a start, her surroundings unfamiliar. She sat up groggily to survey the room, her eyes adjusting to the dark, a fire still burning in the grate. Her body became aware of another beside her. It was strong and muscular, masculine. She glanced down, his pale blonde hair shining in the dark. All of a sudden it all came flooding back to her. She dropped back down onto the pillows with a thud.

"Granger, would you stop your fidgeting, I am trying to sleep." Said Malfoy with his usual snide tone. Hermione rolled onto her side to face him.

"Oh I am terribly sorry to bother you. Maybe if you got a decent bed this wouldn't be a problem." Hermione replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Malfoy's eye's flicked open just so he could roll them at her with disgust. He let out a loud sigh and roughly grabbed her, placing her head on his chest.

Hermione gritted her teeth. While this was more comfortable, she couldn't stand the fact that the comfort was provided by Malfoy. As Hermione's anger abated, she couldn't help but feel a lump grow in her throat, as her thoughts drifted back to before Harry was defeated, the thought of his death still stinging like an infected wound that would not heal.

The minute the war was over Hermione had known that something like this would happen. Harry wasn't even buried when Voldemort brought in his "New World Order", which was an elitist system. Some might say very similar to Hitler… Well… the only people who would say were Muggleborns and they had no right to say anything anymore.

What was left of the Order had gone into hiding, including the Weasley's. Unfortunately not before Ginny had been caught. Voldemort decided to be kind and take mercy on her (not before he had his way with her) and let her be sold on the Slave Market. This was not always a blessing. Some Muggleborns had been lucky and were sold into unknown supporters of Dumbledore and Harry. Those lucky few lead almost normal lives. Not everyone was this fortunate. Ginny had been sold to Blaise Zabini. In some ways Ginny was lucky, as most of the bidders at these things were evil and twisted old men. Hermione had also been sold on the Slave Market to Draco Malfoy. Hermione shuddered as she remembered back to that day. Everyone had told her how lucky she was to have been sold to a "Playboy" of the elite, but to Hermione it was a fate worse than death. You see, to be sold to a "Playboy" meant that you would not be just a common servant who cooked and cleaned. No, you were to be their mistress. You were to be taken to the Gentlemen's Club gatherings, to be seen and not heard and expected to satisfy their every need. The club consisted of the best of the best; Malfoy Jr & Sr, Zabini, Nott Jr & Sr, Snape, Pettigrew, Greyback, Crabbe, Goyle, Thicknesse, Weasley and of course Voldemort himself.

As one might notice, one name stands out amongst those. The moment Ron heard of both Ginny and Hermione's situation Ron had come out of hiding in order to help them both, although his progression was slow. Ron had used every trick he had to make his way to the top, eventually marrying Pansy Parkinson, which in turn brought him into the exclusive gentlemen's club by default. Pansy of course attended, but this was more so for her benefits than Ron's. You see, Pansy and Ron's marriage was one of convenience. There was no love lost between the two, but neither seemed to mind as both had different agenda's. Ron's was to save his sister and his one true love, where as Pansy's was to watch over her other lover Theodore. Theodore seemed to have an unquenchable lust, having a new girl in attendance almost every week. This, of course, annoyed Pansy greatly, as it would any girl, so she had to keep an eye on what was coming in and out, not only to protect her reputation but his as well.

Hermione let out a sigh as her thoughts drifted to that of Ron. Her dearest dearest Ronald. One day they would be together.

A cold shiver ran down her spine as the draughty stone room began to cool with the night, goose bumps appearing on her skin.

"Are you cold?" Draco murmured. Hermione merely nodded, not wanting to show any weakness in front of her master. She had been in service to Draco for six months now, but still refused to let down her guard. In one movement Draco adjust himself to pull up a mink blanket, covering Hermione's body, his arms wrapped around her.

Hermione's and Draco's relationship was one of the most tenderest hatred, meaning that Hermione was filled with hatred while Draco on a very rare occasional would do something tender.

This was one of those rare occasions.

Generally Hermione would only see Draco at night when they attended the Gentlemen's Club. The only time she would see him during the day was for sex or if there was an official event to attend. Those were the worst, as all the mistresses would be sit in box seats above the crowd and forced to wear revealing traditional clothing. It was sort of like being a VIP, except instead of all the glamour, you were forced to carry the shame and public humiliation of being nothing more than a common whore.

Mind you, Hermione had it a lot better than most. If you were not sold on the slave market, there were not a lot of other options. If you had a skill or trade, you were sent off into the workforce. A Pureblood would own the store and you would get paid a pittance to work there all day every day. Although, this did mean you could at least be your own person to an extent. Muggleborn's were allowed to rent, if they had an approval by the Ministry and could afford the rates. The only other options were to whore yourself out (this was a roaring trade for both men and women, though there were no rights for prostitutes and there seemed to be more rape than the exchange of money for sex) or to beg on the streets. Some people would take mercy, but most would walk on by. It broke Hermione's heart when she would wander the streets and see tear stained familiar faces in the gutter. She couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if Harry had of made it through.

But alas, it did no good to dwell on the past.

Hermione clenched her eyes tight and tried to block out all the thoughts that had entered her head, focusing instead on the rhythmic breathing of Draco. In, out, in, out, eventually drifting into sleep.

Hello All!

Thank you for reading!

Hopefully y'all will stick around. I update regularly.

Much Love

xxx

PS. A BIG Thank You to Mong and Laura for their input and helping me out with this when I had shaky legs.

xxxx

HeHe He