Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters, all belongs to J.K. Rowling. This disclaimer will stand for each of the following chapters.

Hey guys, so I fancied writing a Dark Draco for a change and then after a few weeks of thinking, I finally cooked up this one. I must warn you that this one is not for the faint-hearted and contains many instances of violence and rape which some of you may find offensive. If this is the case then please do not read. Let me know your thoughts before I continue, as I would like to decide whether or not this particular story is worth my time.

It's set in an alternate universe where Draco is Voldemort's second in command after the Order lost the war and Muggle-Borns are now social outcasts and are hunted by the Death Eaters (you've probably seen this instance before so I won't ramble).

Just to reiterate since some of you didn't read all of this: Contains instances of violence and rape - do not read if easily offended. - Don't say I didn't warn you.

Update 01/01/2015: Currently undergoing a re-write of all completed chapters before the story continues.

Chapter I

"Tether: tie (an animal) with a rope or chain so as to restrict its movement"

The sounds of clinking and slurping filled the dank kitchen of Grimmauld Place; the main hiding place for their kind in this world of prejudice and injustice. The girl with the chestnut curls forced a cheerful smile on her face as she spooned a second helping of the peculiar looking broth into the bowls of the hungry, while ignoring the protesting growls that her own stomach was making.

To those who sat around the table with her, she was a saviour. She provided them with refuge from the evil doings of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, much like her extinct Order of the Phoenix had before her. She was all that remained after the massacre and there was no hope left in the world for their kind now.

Her stomach contorted painfully and she could feel it starting to swell with her lack of food, but she smiled all the while as she watched familiar faces from her childhood, worn and abused, light up with the kindness that she would show them.

It was two years ago now, that Harry Potter had died. It was two years ago that Voldemort had triumphed and as a result, most that she held dear to her were taken while she herself was made an outcast, a pariah and it was all due to her parentage. Muggle-Borns like she were hunted in the Magical Community. They were tainted, dirty and unworthy of their magic. Such was the belief of the chauvinistic supremacists who now ruled their world.

She would never let this bring her down. Her people looked to her for faith and guidance. If she lost all hope then so did they and she could not let that happen. For they were much better off than most because they were all together and had secured an appropriate hiding place. Others weren't so fortunate and were either sent off to Mudblood Relocation Camps or were forced to beg along the streets for their food, selling themselves for a mere crust of bread.

Some of the more fortunate managed to pass unnoticed, and as long as they stayed in the shadows of the Magical Community, they weren't pestered. Such was the case of many who sat around the rustic table in the kitchens of Grimmauld Place. That was why they had gone undetected for so long.

They were a mismatched but close-knit family now after the years of living in constant fear together. Colin and Dennis Creevey, Kevin Entwhistle, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott and Dean Thomas were some of the more familiar faces who had been with Hermione right from the beginning. Others had been rescued through the years, such was the case of their youngest; little Emma Butler who Hermione had managed to save from a group of Death Eaters.

She distinctly remembered stumbling across the ruckus, quite by accident as she hurried back from the market, hoarding her supplies for everybody in her woven basket. She had heard the screams of the mother and rushed over to see Death Eaters trying to wrestle the small bundle out of her arms. She had only ended up dead, for she was just a Muggle against two trained Death Eaters. Hermione had managed to save little Emma from certain death and she had lit up the lives of those who lived in Grimmauld Place.

The rhythmic knocking of the front door sent the whole table crashing into a dreaded silence. Spoons clattered into bowls as hands began to shake. Cool dread began to pool in the stomach of each and every person sitting around the table, for they all knew that they would be killed upon being caught.

Hermione rose from the table and quickly rushed out of the kitchen, closing the door behind her. She strode down the long hallway and stood on her tiptoes to look through the peephole that she had installed in the door to see a very familiar face. A smile pulled at her lips as she hastily opened the door and pulled her guest inside and directly into her embrace.

The visitor reached up and jerked off his black hood before discarding the silver mask that adorned his chiseled face. She frowned, not expecting the face of her beloved to appear so grave and fearful. Perspiration dotted his upper lip and gleaned his forehead, causing his caramel coloured locks to cling to his skin.

"Adrian? What is it?" She asked, alarmed. Adrian Pucey took a moment to catch his breath before tightly grasping the hands of his lover and holding them close to him.

"For the love of Merlin, don't ask me how; but he knows." Adrian panted before bowing his head and taking a series of rapid breaths. She could tell that whatever had happened had caused him to rush here as if his life depended on it. "He knows that you're here. He's going to storm the place as soon as he can assemble enough men."

"No!" Hermione gasped, pulling her hands from his and placing them over her mouth as cold dread curled in her stomach at the very thought of him. She knew deep down inside that he would find her eventually, just as he vowed that he would, but she couldn't let her people get hurt in the process. She turned on her heel and ran back to the kitchen with Adrian following closely behind her. "Everybody listen up! They're coming. We need to waste no time and get out of here immediately. Grab what you can and we'll be on our way, but hurry!" She pleaded, with desperation laced in her voice.

Everyone at the table rose quickly, prepared for such an event due to Hermione's constant drills. They all sprinted for the stairs to pack everything that they could carry. Hermione lifted Emma out of her chair and soothed her anguished wails before shoving the meagre amounts of food that remained in the pantry into a rucksack which she slung on her back.

"Adrian, I need you to help me get everyone downstairs. We need to leave right now." She spoke desperately praying to every deity that she never believed in to allow her to escape his suffocating grasp. Rushing up the stairs with baby Emma bouncing in her arms as she went, she forced her way into each and every room, ordering everybody out, beseeching that they leave behind what wasn't necessary.

They all assembled in the small hallway as the thick atmosphere of panic and fear filled the musty air. Hermione grabbed hold of Adrian's hand as they all burst out onto the quiet street that was Grimmauld Place, the darkness shrouding them from the regular activities of the Muggles that lived around them. They rushed across the street and into the small park that sat in the centre of the square which was the only decent place nearby from which Adrian could apparate them. The overgrown weeds tried to claw at her legs as she ran, as if trying to drag her back, only to fall into his clutches. She could not allow him to find her, or her people. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she could hear it in her ears like a hammer against cloth over the muffled orders that Adrian was issuing to everybody.

It all happened very quickly. Just as Adrian withdrew his wand, Hermione heard the multitude of 'pops' around her, signalling the arrival of several strangers who were shrouded in black apart from the glinting silver masks that covered their faces. Chaos followed and she watched as the Death Eaters simultaneously rushed towards them, bright streams of light darting from their wands as they stunned the stragglers trying to get away.

Hermione thrust Emma into Adrian's arms, just as the magic collided with her chest, rooting her to the ground. She struggled to free herself, forced to watch as one Death Eater made his way towards her. She knew him too well as he had been in pursuit of her over the last two years. His pale face remained unmasked and his cold, steely eyes bore into her prompting her to shrink under his intimidating glare.

His deep laughter filled the silence that ensued as he reached out a gloved hand to take possession of her. "Mine, at last."

~*:*~

Hermione cowered in the corner of her cell with her hands pressed firmly over her ears as she tried to block out the tortured screams of her people that echoed off the stone walls that encompassed them all. The salty tears dripped steadily off her cheeks as they endured their fate, crying out for their pain to end, their oppressors to relent.

She heard him before she saw him. The sound of his boots resounded on the floor, increasing in volume as he made his way towards her her. The fine hair on the back of her neck stood erect when he came to a halt outside her cell. She sat still, not daring to turn and meet his foreboding gaze.

She heard the hinges of the cell door protesting as he forced it open and entered her little prison. She could feel her small hands shaking timidly as she stood from the floor and turned to see him entering her cell. The hem of his black robes caressed the floor as he turned to lock the door behind him, leaving them both alone inside the suffocating stone walls.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it mudblood?" Came his cold drawl.

She turned her nose up at him. "Not long enough, Malfoy." She spoke confidently as he started to circle her in a predatory fashion.

"You forget yourself little mudblood." He said in mock astonishment, grinning as he toyed with the trembling girl who stood in the centre of the cell. "Remember whose hands your life lies in." He snarled.

"What are you waiting for then? Kill me so I can be free of your insufferable presence." She challenged him, closing her eyes as he advanced towards her. His fingers pinched painfully into her face as he forcefully grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

He inhaled deeply in her hair, closing his eyes as the scent of vanilla overwhelmed his senses. "You forget to whom you speak." He whispered abruptly, forcefully throwing her to the ground before him; desire burning in his irises as he watched her mass of chestnut curls tumble across her face while she glared up at him through her lashes. "And here, I came to make a bargain with you, only to be treated with such hostility."

"A bargain?" She questioned, pushing her rampant curls from her face which bore two red finger marks on either side of her jaw. Her conscience was screaming at her, she knew better than to make a bargain with such a man. But she thought it better to hear what he had to say, for nothing could be worse than the consuming grip of the flames which would extinguish her puny existence. She shuffled away from him until she was backed up against the wall before slowly rising to her feet again.

He advanced towards her again and curled his hand possessively around her neck, caressing the smooth skin there while taking great pleasure in the fact that one squeeze could end her. "Be mine." He purred.

She wrenched away from his grip. "I'd rather die a thousand deaths." She hissed venomously before spitting in his face. He was not defeated so easily and grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back to him, eliciting a pained whimper which almost made him groan with pleasure.

"That can be arranged, sweet little mudblood. See, I'm building a little bonfire and you and your friends will be quite the main event. Quite the fitting punishment for a witch, wouldn't you agree?" He let out a smooth and sultry laugh which she could feel rumbling against her back.

She was entirely repulsed and wanted nothing more than to push him off her, even if it did mean taking another hit. She would prefer that to his close proximity which was just unnerving. This man was supposed to be Voldemort's right hand man, he had killed and condemned countless amounts of people of her kind. He had committed all sorts of atrocities against humanity and here he was, trying to convince her to be his. She shivered with disgust.

Another pained scream ripped through the air, one that Hermione was glad that she didn't quite recognise. "You hear that? Their pain and suffering could be stopped if you would just bow to my wishes." He whispered into her ear causing her to cringe as his cool breath swept across the side of her face.

"You'd let them go?" She asked, hope laced in her voice.

"You have my word." He replied smoothly.

"All of them, including Adrian." She ordered.

"And in return, you belong to me. You are mine to do with as I see fit and you will bow to each and every whim of mine. In exchange, I give you my word that they will be set free and unharmed."

A wise man had once told her that sometimes we must choose between doing what is right, and what is easy. It would be much easier for her to refuse his offer and give him a piece of her mind for thinking so low of her before she was sent to the flames, but then she thought of all of the people who depended on her; the people who had put their unwavering trust and loyalty into her. Could she really condemn them to burn alongside her?

Her eyes glazed over as she realised what she must do. The first tear trickled down her cheek as he continued to curl his fingers around her exposed neck. She nodded her head silently, resigning herself to her cruel fate.

"I'll do it." She whispered.

~*:*~

She watched from the window of the room in which she was imprisoned as each and every person that she cared about were escorted from the city. She watched as they desperately looked around for her, calling her name before being silenced harshly by the accompanying Death Eaters. She could see that Emma's face was red from her uncontrollable crying as Adrian struggled to wrench himself from the grip of their escort. She knew that he was looking for her and it broke her heart to see him go, but she had saved their lives and secured them something that any Muggle-Borns would be lucky to have in this harsh reality. Freedom.

She heard the rattling of the lock on the door but did not turn to see him as he entered her new prison. If her circumstances were different, she would definitely appreciate the lavish furnishings of the room in which she had been kept with its innumerable amount of bookshelves which lined the walls, each full to the brim with books which he knew that she would be keen to devour. In the centre of the opposite wall sat a gargantuan bed which she daren't look at, for she knew what would happen there in only a short matter of time. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself but her body betrayed her and began to quiver.

He noticed that her legs were shaking uncontrollably as he turned to face her, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Hermione Granger." His tongue caressed each syllable of her name as it spilled mockingly from his lips, causing her to shiver. The fine hair on her arms was standing to attention as the cold fear spread through her body.

From the corner of her eye, she warily observed him as he made towards her. She instinctively took a few steps back, holding her hands out in front of her defensively; her eyes glassy with the tears that she was desperately trying to keep at bay. He was unperturbed by her obvious grief and continued to advance towards her with his grey irises darkening with lust as they drank in every inch of her deliciously tempting body. Despite her tears and humiliation, she held her head high as if to challenge him and he relished in the knowledge that he was going to destroy her spirit. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to destroy every last infuriating part of her that he detested so, and what better a way to go about it than this?

A pale hand reached up to take hold of her chestnut coloured locks which he sniffed deeply, burying his face into her neck. He could feel the constricting of her throat and the trembling of her shoulders as he continued with his assault.

"Malfoy, please don't." She pleaded, the tears beginning to cloud her vision.

"Don't what, my sweet little mudblood?" He asked before curling a hand around the back of her neck and forcing his mouth to hers, snaking his tongue between her lips as she yelled out in protest. His arms caged her and there was no escape, despite her struggles as she was physically too weak to put up a resistance against him. She felt increasingly uncomfortable for each additional second that his lips remained on hers, and the feelings of shame and disgust crept upon her, making her want to claw off her own skin until they subsided.

His lips worked with increasing fervour against her reluctant ones while his hands roamed down the body that he had longed for, for two whole years. The moment that he reached the small of her back, she became aware of the unfamiliar sensation and using all of her might, she pushed against him causing him to stumble backwards with the force of her. Again, she backed away, rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand before spitting him out of her mouth.

"You disgust me." She sobbed. "You're sick, forcing yourself on a woman like this." The tears began to brim and before she could rein them in, one solitary tear escaped her eye and traced the curve of her cheek. She could see through the blurriness of her tears as pure hatred filled his eyes and he lunged for her, grabbing her hair and curling it around his fist so that he could hold her in place.

"You know, it would have been so much simpler and satisfying to watch the flames devour you and all of your filthy friends. But you chose, didn't you? You wanted this, and I saved you. Is this how you show me your gratitude?" He sneered at her. "You'd do well not to disobey me my sweet little mudblood. Now, am I not merciful for letting your friends go?" He asked her in a dominating voice.

Her only reply was the sniffling that accompanied her tears.

"Answer me! Am I not merciful for letting you live?" He demanded.

"Yes, you are." She sobbed submissively as he tightened his hold on her hair.

"Then I should be rewarded. After all, a good deed never goes unpunished." He smirked before reaching for the hem of Hermione's robe. His excitement increased and he knew that she was probably aware of the obvious bulge in his pants by now. He had waited for this moment for years, to put her in her place and cruelly ravish the body that should not have been bestowed upon such a filthy creature.

As he pulled away the last of her robe, his breathing increased sharply as he admired every dip and curve of her beautiful body that called to him like a siren, taunting him with its sweet, delicious temptation. He moved her over to the bed and forced her to sit. Her head hung low with her shame; her curls covering her ample breasts as her shoulders jerked. He forced his hand under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his gaze roughly.

"You will keep your eyes open for every moment of this and keep them on me. Do you understand? I want you to know who's fucking you."

She nodded brokenly, still deliberating whether she should lay back and let this monster take her virginity or fight and die beside her people. He made the decision for her and pushed her shoulders back so that she lay on the bed properly, her bare body on display for his viewing pleasure. He followed quickly after her, bracing himself with one arm while craning his neck down to place forceful kisses on her lips, down her jaw and neck until finally reaching her pert breasts which he began to suckle with fervour while her body writhed in protest beneath him. The feeling was so foreign and repulsive to her that she felt her stomach begin to churn.

She squealed as she felt him wriggle his free hand between them to reach for his own arousal and free it from the constraints of his trousers. She could feel his hardness on the inside of her thigh; swollen and rigid against her skin. She squirmed as he moved his hand to her other thigh and slowly traced the creamy skin there, edging closer and closer to his ultimate destination.

His breathing was coming out in short pants while she attempted to wrestle him away, she sobbed pitifully the whole time in fear of what was to follow. The cold of his ring caused her to jump when it made contact with her most secretive organ as the reality of what was about to happen finally sunk in. Fear settled in her stomach and she could feel all of her muscles clenching tightly as she braced herself. She just had to remind herself that she was doing this for her people, for Adrian, while praying that they forgave her.

She closed her eyes and winced as she felt the head of his member lining up with her folds, turning her head from him. She squeezed tears from her eyes, mentally pleading for him to stop, waiting for him to surge forward and steal her innocence.

She waited for what seemed longer than necessary and cracked open an eye in confusion. She could see the paleness of his arm, in contrast to the black mark which was wriggling about angrily on his skin as his Lord called him. She could've cried with relief as she felt him remove his weight off her before standing from the bed and tucking himself back into his trousers, all the while cursing with his obvious irritation at his Lord.

Every fibre of his being yearned to forget about his duty and fall back onto the bed and take what he had longed for. But he knew that his reputation mattered far more than the siren's call of one mudblood. She would still be here waiting for him, while the Dark Lord would not. He looked back to her before he left, admiring her seemingly lifeless and bare form which was spread out across the bed, her face turned away from him. He could see the jerking movements of her chest as she sobbed in which he took great pleasure. His lip curled into a sneer before he slipped silently out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Hermione remained still on the bed, disgusted with the feel that he had left on her body despite the fact that he hadn't even done his worst. She clenched her fists tightly and let the remainder of her restrained tears flow.