Title: Life Is Full Of Surprises [Part One]
Author: scarletladyy
Pairing: Draco/Hermione, background Draco/Astoria and past Blaise/Hermione
Word Count: 13,620
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, Slavery, Adultery
Summary: The shock death of her Master and subsequent purchase by another plunges Hermione into uncertainty, but she soon finds out that change isn't always a bad thing.
Author's Notes In this world, all Mudbloods are property to be bought and sold. I have to say that the second I laid eyes upon my prompt I was in love, and I knew I'd enjoy it. I was correct, and I had such an amazing time writing this fic. I really hope you all like it too. Written for hermione_smut 2012. Thank you to my beta, NC, who was a fantastic help.

Everyone around Hermione was grieving, but she wasn't allowed to. She'd been sharply instructed to pack her bags as quickly as possible, for as soon as Mr and Mrs Zabini were free, they were taking her back to the slave market. Her Master had died not a day before, and Hermione hadn't even had time to properly register the news. She'd never really liked him, but she had been serving him for as long as she could remember, and his death meant a huge change in her life.

The Zabini household was her home, and now that Blaise was gone, she was being thrown out of it. They didn't want her anymore; she was no use to them. These thoughts hurt her, stung her. She'd always known she'd never meant anything to any of them, but she hadn't imagined they would get rid of her if anything ever happened to him. Mind, she'd never envisioned a situation where Blaise went before his parents did.

It didn't take Hermione long to pack her bags, or rather, bag. The only items of sentiment she had were a few photos of herself as a baby, one photo of her parents and a small toy unicorn she'd received one Christmas as a child. The rest of her possessions consisted of three or four worn robes, two of which she'd outgrown many years before.

Never before had Hermione felt more awkward than when she was stood in the entrance hall, bag at her feet, waiting for someone to take her away. She would miss Zabini Manor; the rooms she'd cleaned, the gardens she'd spent her summer evenings in and the elves she'd befriended. She even had several memories from when she was a child and treated as such. She remembered running through the gardens with a magic water pistol, trying to get Blaise; selling lemonade at the front of the manor in the summer; tiptoeing across the hall to Blaise's bedroom and having a midnight feast. Everything had changed as soon as they'd hit eleven and Blaise had gone to Hogwarts.

Hermione had been allowed to go with him, as had many other pure-bloods' slaves, but only to attend to him. That's when her duties began and she was a child no longer; she was Blaise's slave and she had to behave as such. She'd received training off Mrs Zabini the summer before Blaise's first year, so she'd be ready and not show him up. It had been a strange adjustment, going from Blaise's childhood friend to slave, but in truth, she'd always known it was coming; Mrs Zabini had been mentally preparing them both for it since she was born.

"It's what you're on this earth for, sweetheart," Mrs Zabini had said to her. "To serve our dear Blaise."

Now Blaise was no longer on this earth, it seemed her purpose was to serve whoever was prepared to pay for her. Unlike when she was a child, Mrs Zabini didn't bother to try and reassure her. All the information she had was that she was being taken back to the slave market, since they had no use for her anymore. Hermione silently thought that her presence reminded them of him, and therefore made the mourning process even harder for them. She didn't blame them; they were grieving.

But she was grieving too.

"Ready?" The latest Mr Zabini came out of the dining room, his face as cold and stony as the weather.

Hermione nodded and grabbed her bag, leaving through the door behind him. They walked down the path in an awkward silence until they reached the gates and passed through them to the road. They could Apparate from there; Hermione knew it all too well. Many times as a child she had grabbed onto Mrs Zabini's or one of her husbands' arms and been taken to the park, the opera or a friend's party. Now was an entirely different story.

"I'm sorry—" Mr Zabini started as he held out his arm for her to take, though he couldn't seem to finish what he'd been planning to say. She was so shocked at the apology that she didn't know what to say, so instead she tried a reassuring smile. The second she grabbed his arm they were away, and the sounds of the slave market filled her ears. Only once before had she been here, when Blaise's friend had been perusing, and the experience still haunted her to this day. It was the same as it had been then: dirty, crowded and smelly. Though Muggleborns weren't allowed children with each other, many women got pregnant from their Masters, and both mother and baby usually ended up here.

Mr Zabini led Hermione through the chaos to the registration point, where he gave her name, age, birthday, skills and past experience. Her reference was remarkably good, so the guard said she shouldn't expect to be there too long. With all her forms filled out, Hermione was given a number and had it magicked on her left wrist. It replaced the Zabini brand that was there previously, and her new Master's would replace it. Their entire purpose was to stifle the person's innate magic. She turned around once they'd finished, expecting to say goodbye to Mr Zabini before they took her away, but he'd already gone. Bastard, she thought as they took her bag and then led her to the cells.

"This one for number two," the guard escorting her shouted to another, who grabbed her and pulled her away. They were surrounded by large cells now, each with at least twenty to thirty Muggleborns in them, and she was taken to the second from the end. It wasn't as overcrowded as the others, but the occupants didn't exactly look friendly. The guard who had hold of her opened the cell and shoved her in. She landed on the floor in the middle of a group of women, each looking more menacing than the last.

Hermione pulled herself to a standing position and found a place for herself in the corner. After several moments the other women got back to talking and ignored her, and she inwardly sighed with relief.

The last thing she wanted was trouble.

[♥]

"Parade! Cells one and two, get ready for parade!"

Hermione awoke with a start, quickly rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and standing up. She waited for the guard to open their cell and followed the others out, making sure not to push or shove or even bump into any of them. She'd soon learnt not to provoke anyone, and accidentally tripping over someone's foot had got her a slap yesterday.

They were led, as they were everyday, to the auction stands. They were raised wooden dais surrounded by groups of pure-bloods, all eager to see who they would be taking home today. Cell one took the primary spot and cell two the secondary. She'd soon found out that cell one contained the virgins and the most highly sought after slaves. There were only around six of them at any given time in their cell, as opposed to the fifteen at least that were in hers. Cell two were the pretty, experienced ones with good references. Still sought after, but priced a little lower.

It was humiliating being placed up for auction like this, but Hermione got through it by staring at the floor the entire time. Not only did this hide her face, but it made pure-bloods believe she was respectful of her superiors. She followed the woman in front of her as they walked around the stand three times and then took position, waiting to see if anyone would choose them. Two people had asked to look at her yesterday, but had gone for another instead.

"Oi, sixty-five!" A guard called only moments after they'd stopped walking. Sixty-five was the number on Hermione's wrist, and she'd been instructed to answer to it. So she did. She looked towards the voice and and found herself being beckoned over. She lowered her head once more as she descended the steps to the crowd, as much to ensure she did not trip as anything else. "This one?"

"Yes," replied the young man standing next to the guard. The voice sounded familiar, but with the chaos around her she couldn't quite place it. "Look at me."

Hermione slowly looked up, and instantly recognised the man. It was Draco Malfoy, one of Blaise's best friends.

"I thought it was you. Blaise's slave, yes?" Hermione nodded. "I'll take her."

"Certainly. If you'd like to follow me, Mr Malfoy. You too," the guard added to her. They went to the registration point, where the number was taken off Hermione's arm and Draco was given her record and her bag. "That'll be forty galleons."

Draco took a brown bag out of his pocket and placed it on the desk. "Keep the change. Come on, Mudblood. Granger, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"You can call me Master Draco," he said as he led them to the Apparition point. "Grab onto me."

[♥]

Malfoy Manor was as elegant as Hermione remembered it, and so it should be, since it must only be three or four weeks since Blaise had visited Draco and taken her along with him. Truth be told, Hermione was rather nervous at being bought by Draco. In all the years she'd known him, he'd always been incredibly picky about his slaves and replaced them every so often, declaring that they weren't up to his high standard.

"Blaise was always going on about how good you were, so I'm putting you to the test. Not that he's alive to prove the point to, but my curiosity got the better of me. For the price I paid for you I could have bought a virgin, so don't make me regret spending it on you."

"I won't, Master Draco," Hermione assured him.

"Good. Let me show you to your room." Draco started down the long hallway and turned into the room second on the left. It appeared to be another large entrance hall, with doors to many different rooms. He chose the one first on the right and ushered her through. "Mind the stairs," he said, lighting the sconces on the walls. At the bottom of the stairs was a small corridor with two rooms, the left of which he opened for her. "These are your rooms; this is your bedroom and your bathroom is the room on the right. You are directly beneath the kitchen, so you will find it keeps rather warm in the winter." Silence ensued as she looked around the small room and he watched her doing so. There was a single bed in the centre, two bedside tables either side, a wardrobe in the corner directly opposite the door, a desk and chair to her left, and a full length mirror and a clock on the wall to her right. One small window near the ceiling hung above the wardrobe, providing the only natural light in the room. "I'll leave you to unpack. Meet me upstairs in the kitchen in fifteen minutes." He threw her bag on the floor and turned to leave, then added, "Don't be late."

Hermione assured him that she'd be on time and then set to work unpacking her bag. It took her all of five minutes; the robes went in the wardrobe, the photos on one bedside table and the unicorn on the other. She took her washbag and went to see what the bathroom looked like. It was small too, but there was a toilet, sink and shower. She emptied her washbag and placed the items in the cupboard underneath the sink. She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror before going back into her bedroom to see what the time was.

Three minutes to go. Not wanting to disappoint her new Master and afraid of his reaction if she did so, Hermione closed her bedroom door and climbed the stairs.

[♥]

After twenty minutes, Draco finally showed his face. He looked harassed and his face was bright red, as if he'd been running from somewhere.

"Apologies," he began, a little out of breath. "My wife had an issue with the children."

Hermione wasn't used to her superiors apologising for their mistakes, and didn't really have a clue how to respond. She tried a small smile, which he seemed to ignore.

"Occasionally, my wife and I will attend events in the evening, when the nanny is off. The children will probably be in bed, but it will be your duty to make sure no harm comes to them."

"I've never—" Hermione began, but Draco cut her off.

"You'll learn." Contrary to his words, his tone didn't seem angry or annoyed, rather, educational. "Astoria will instruct you on all you need to know. Now, about the rest of your duties..." He spent the next half an hour at least giving her a tour of the manor and explaining her duties and the house rules. They were far more lenient than Blaise's ever were, and Hermione worried it was some sort of trick. "You may take your leisure time in the evenings, when you are not needed to watch the children."

Leisure time? Blaise had never allowed her leisure time, forcing her to follow him about in case he ever needed her.

"You look shocked," Draco remarked. "Is there something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head frantically. "No, not at all."

"Good. You have free reign of the house and gardens, but you may not leave without permission or an escort. Please come to me if there's anywhere you need to go. I'll escort you at the next available opportunity."

Hermione nodded in understanding, though this was, again, a shock to her. Blaise never let her go anywhere for her own needs. "Thank you," she said after a moment's silence.

"Now," Draco continued, "I understand you'll be used to Blaise's likes and routines, but you're going to have to forget them and focus on mine. I will allow you a few leniences, but don't take me a for a ride. You shall address my wife as Ma'am and obey her within reason. If her orders conflict with mine I expect you to override her. You belong to me, not her."

"Of course, Master Draco."

"Come along, then. I'll introduce you to my family."

Hermione was pleasantly surprised and felt rather excited at meeting Draco's wife and children. It made her feel included, a part of the family. She followed him up to the first floor and into the second room on the right, which turned out to be a nursery. The room was wallpapered a soft pink with dark pink witches hats patterning it, while the floor was hardwood with a large rug in the center. The cot in the corner was the largest Hermione had ever seen, with a beautiful rocking chair next to it, and there were so many toys strewn about the place that if she weren't careful, she'd trip up immediately. A changing table and wardrobe occupied the other side, while a set of drawers were straight across from her.

"Astoria, darling," Draco began as they entered. "Please let me welcome Granger. Er—"

"Hermione," she interjected, realising she'd not actually introduced herself properly.

"Hermione. Please let me welcome Hermione Granger."

Astoria gave her a sharp once over, narrowing her eyes as she took in every inch. Then, as though her personality changed completely, her face broke into a warm smile and she held out her hand as if greeting an old friend. "Hermione. Welcome to our home. Please, meet Scorpius and Claudia."

The little boy next to his mother shied away from Hermione when she bent down to greet him, hiding behind Astoria's leg. Astoria laughed and apologised, explaining that he was going through a shy phase at the moment. Claudia was more receptive, returning Hermione's smile and making a little noise of glee.

"They're lovely," Hermione remarked. "May I ask how old they are, Ma'am?"

"Scorpius is four, Claudia is eighteen months."

"And—" Astoria beamed in delight and looked to Draco, as if she wanted permission to say what she was about to. He nodded his head. "You can be the first to know. We're expecting again!"

"Oh! How wonderful!" Hermione's face matched Astoria's, but Draco looked rather uncomfortable with such raw emotion. He was smiling, but politely, as if he'd been served his favourite meal or given a present.

"I know, isn't it just? I'm six weeks gone already. Come May we'll have another little bundle of joy!"

"Calm yourself, darling," Draco said, his smile fading. "Come, Hermione. I'll show you to the living room where you can begin your day. Astoria invited the girls around last night and things got rather raucous."

With another smile to Astoria and the children, Hermione followed Draco out of the room. He didn't seem anywhere near as excited about the baby as Astoria did; perhaps he hadn't wanted another child? Maybe he thought two was enough.

"There is one more note of importance," Draco said as they entered the parlour, which was nowhere near as much of a mess as he'd made it out to be. "The East Wing. Please leave it alone. It was my father's haven and I haven't sorted it out since his death two years ago."

"Of course. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Draco shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Don't dally, now. Clean those plates away before they attract flies."

[♥]

The evening Hermione had been dreading for the past two weeks was finally here. The Ministry was having a Halloween Ball, and Draco and Astoria were attending. She'd been told the day after she'd arrived, so she could prepare to look after the children, but she was nowhere near mentally prepared. She loved children, always had, but didn't know the first thing about looking after them. She'd never babysat any, and she didn't have any brothers or sisters. She worried something would go wrong and she'd end up back at the slave market, or worse, killed.

Muggleborns had been killed for much less than a child being hurt in their care. Draco and Astoria may seem reasonable now, but she doubted they would be if anything happened to their offspring while she was taking care of them.

"Scorpius and Claudia are up in the playroom," Astoria said as she came down the stairs. She was finishing off her outfit; putting her earrings in and checking her hair in the long mirror in the hallway. "Draco should be along in a moment. I swear he takes longer than me to get ready."

Hermione smiled, but soon felt awkward. She still wasn't used to the kindness displayed by the Mistress of the house; any girlfriends Blaise had had were always terribly cruel to her and repeatedly tried to get rid of her. Draco was unusually soft too, and while this baffled her also, she wasn't about to comment on it and make him think he should be like his friend was.

"Ready, darling?" Draco descended the stairs and kissed his wife on the cheek. Astoria rolled her eyes at the insinuation he was waiting for her, then grabbed her handbag and headed for the door. Draco stopped momentarily to speak to Hermione. "If there's a problem or an emergency, call for Ivy. She'll come and get me."

"Of course." As Draco turned to leave, Hermione courtesied and then blushed furiously as Draco looked at her strangely. She got as far as saying, "Master Blaise used to—" before he cut her off and left. Blaise had always insisted on her curtseying every time he left the house, and this was the first time that Hermione had been present when Draco was leaving. She blushed and felt like a fool, for Draco had never even mentioned this gesture.

Trying to curb her embarrassment and forget it ever happened, Hermione went upstairs to the playroom. A piece of parchment on the outside of the playroom door gave Hermione more specific details, such as when to put them to bed and what to do in case of X, Y or Z. The note was very detailed, and was signed at the bottom by the nanny that Hermione had only met in passing every so often. It had just gone six o'clock now, and Scorpius was to be put to bed with a story at eight, while Claudia was the same but an hour earlier.

Hermione wasn't quite sure how to put such young children to bed, so she just hoped that reading them a story after placing them in their cot or bed would do the trick. If they started playing up, she wasn't sure how she would handle it. The note also said that now should be wind-down time, and they shouldn't be playing with anything too noisy or too excitable as they wouldn't sleep.

With a deep breath, Hermione opened the door and greeted the children with a large smile. Claudia smiled back, but Scorpius just returned to what he was playing with. Whether it was a personal dislike or as true as Astoria said it was with him being shy at the moment, Hermione didn't know, but she tried her best throughout the next hour to play with him and get him used to her. It didn't work very well; any toy she tried to join in with he stopped playing, and he refused to say absolutely anything to her. She was dreading bedtime.

Thankfully, Claudia was a lot more receptive. She seemed to enjoy Hermione playing games with her, toddled after her when she tried to play with Scorpius and even said a few words occasionally. Hermione thought Claudia was a rather developed toddler, but she put this down to the magic within her.

"Right," Hermione said as the grandfather clock in the hallway outside struck seven. "It's time for you to go to bed, missy." She temporarily put Scorpius in the playpen as she picked up Claudia to take her to her nursery. She tickled Claudia and the little girl began giggling loudly as Hermione carried her down the hall.

The nursery, which she hadn't been in since she'd first met Astoria and the children, was tidy this time. Hermione laid Claudia down on the changing table and changed her nappy as best she could, for she didn't really know what she was doing. After choosing a bright pink onesie and giving the little girl a quick kiss on the head, Hermione placed Claudia in her cot and sat in the rocking chair next to it to read her a story. She'd picked one off the bookshelf entitled "The Blue Balloon", as it was one she recognised and remembered from her own childhood. She was actually surprised to find Muggle literature in Draco's home, but never-the-less, relieved for it. He couldn't hate her kind too badly then.

It didn't take long before Claudia was soon fast asleep, and Hermione was grateful for the spells around the nursery that allowed her to leave, for they would alert her if something was amiss. She carefully made her way out of the nursery and back down to the playroom, where she found Scorpius banging one of toys repeatedly against the side of the playpen.

"Don't do that," Hermione said quietly, taking the toy off him and picking him up. She gave him a quick cuddle, which he seemed reluctant to receive, and then set him down on the floor. He walked off to the small table in the corner of the room and began drawing. Sighing heavily, Hermione began to clean up the playroom; it was clear the little boy wanted nothing to do with her.

When the grandfather clock struck eight, Hermione was more than relieved. Scorpius wasn't naughty per se, but he was aloof and annoyed by her very presence. Hermione wondered if the nanny got this treatment too. "It's bedtime," Hermione said, and as soon as the words came out of her mouth, Scorpius kicked off. He began screaming blue murder and resisted any and all of Hermione's attempts to either pick him up or take him by the hand. She didn't want to hurt him so she had absolutely no idea what to do. The thought of how wonderful it would be to use a spell or two briefly crossed her mind, but she quickly abandoned that, pretty certain that if even she was allowed to do magic, his parents wouldn't appreciate it.

After fifteen minutes of solid screaming and many failed attempts, Hermione decided to just go for it. She picked Scorpius up and tried as best she could to ignore his kicking and hitting as she took him to the his room across the hall. Deciding it would be too hard to try and get him to brush his teeth or change into his pyjamas, she placed him in his bed and turned around to fetch a story. By the time she'd turned back around, he'd gone. He was nowhere to be seen.

Panic stormed through Hermione and she frantically ran out of the room, screaming Scorpius' name. She checked the playroom, the nursery and every single room on that floor, but Scorpius wasn't in any of them. Her only saving grace was that he couldn't possibly leave the manor, for all the doors and windows were locked to prevent her escaping. It was only a small saving grace, though, for the manor itself was huge and Hermione hadn't even been around all of it. She thought about getting the nanny to help, but then she realised she didn't know where the woman's quarters would be, and if she found Scorpius without help, nobody ever had to know he'd gone missing.

Mind, the way this was going, she'd probably end up finding where the nanny was in her frantic search of the manor. It was then that she remembered Draco had told her to call for Ivy if there was a problem. Hermione bit her lip. She knew that would be the right thing to do, but she also knew she'd be severely punished if Draco found out about this.

Five minutes, Hermione thought. I'll search for five minutes and if I don't find him I'll call Ivy.

Plan decided, Hermione raced down the hallway to the stairs. She wasn't sure whether it was more likely that Scorpius would have gone up or down, but since she figured he must know more of the downstairs manor than the upstairs, she chose down. She checked every room possible, and just as she was about to give up and call Ivy, she heard a noise. A noise that sounded a lot like Scorpius. She ran towards it and sure enough, there he was.

Walking straight into the East Wing of the manor. The exact wing she'd been specifically ordered not to enter.

Scorpius hadn't yet seen her, so she tried to sneak up on him; her plan being to grab him before he noticed she was there. That way, she wouldn't have to disobey Draco. Unfortunately, Scorpius had other such ideas, and as soon as Hermione's foot creaked, Scorpius made a run for it straight into the East Wing. Hermione knew she had no other option but to follow him, so that she did, calling his name sweetly and pleading with him to come back to her. He seemed to see this as a sort of game, running and giggling ahead of her.

It felt so wrong to be in the forbidden part of the manor that Hermione kept her eyes firmly focused on the little boy in front of her; she refused to look at any of the architecture or surroundings. She caught glimpses every now and then; the carpet and wallpaper were certainly different, and she was relieved that were no portraits around to grass her up to Draco, but she found the lack of them a little disconcerting. There had obviously been some there once, for the wallpaper was faded in some parts with the obvious shape of a portrait.

If Hermione didn't know better, she'd think Scorpius knew where he was going. He was so determined, running through the corridors until he stopped at one door and pushed it open. Hermione took her chance while he was still to grab him and pick him up, intending to go straight back to his bedroom and never take her eyes off him again.

This didn't happen. The second her eyes clocked on what was in the room Scorpius had opened, she gasped in shock and horror. Unable to believe what she was seeing, she took a few more steps into the room to confirm it. There, in front of her, was a bed, and a child who could be no more than a year older than Scorpius fast asleep upon it. This child didn't look anything like Scorpius or Claudia; he was pale and sickly, and looked as if he was struggling to breathe. He appeared to cough rather nastily (though Hermione couldn't actually hear it), pulling on her heartstrings.

"Drusus!" Scorpius exclaimed, and the boy in front of them stirred.

Panicked, Hermione stepped out of the room and closed the door before the boy could open his eyes. Without further ado, she hurried back to Scorpius' bedroom and put him to bed, rushing through a random story she'd picked up off the shelf. She was grateful that he didn't make a fuss and try to get out of bed this time. All she could think about throughout was the little boy they'd just encountered, the one Scorpius seemed to know as 'Drusus'.

Scorpius was asleep before Hermione got to the end of the story, so she carefully put it down and left quietly so as not to wake him. She needed time to herself; she needed to process what she'd just seen. Why was there a boy hidden away in what Draco had called his late father's wing? Was that the true reason she was forbidden to enter? Because of Drusus? Why, when presumably he was their son, had Draco and Astoria not mentioned him when introducing her to their other children?

Something extremely funny was going on here, and Hermione was determined to find out exactly what that was. Perhaps Draco and Astoria weren't the kind, nice couple Hermione had believed them to be. Perhaps their niceties were just a façade.

[♥]

It was quarter past one in the morning when Draco and Astoria returned. She stood as soon as she heard the crack of Apparition outside, and took their coats when they entered. Astoria was very merry, obviously having had a lot to drink, while Draco appeared to only have had one or two.

"Go up to bed, Astoria," Draco said gently, before turning to Hermione. "How were the children?"

How do I even begin to answer that? He obviously doesn't mean Drusus. "They were fine. I don't think Scorpius likes me, though."

"Nonsense," Draco said sharply. "He's just a quiet boy. It takes him a while to get used to people."

Hermione smiled politely, not knowing what to say to that and whether or not it was the truth. As expected, there was no mention of Drusus, and she couldn't help but wonder if either Draco or Astoria ever saw the boy at all. "Did you have a good evening?"

"As much as can be expected. Astoria loves these sort of things, but I hate them. If I didn't have to attend, I wouldn't. I hate making small talk."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Draco shook his head and glanced at the grandfather clock. "Look at the time. Say, have a lie in tomorrow morning. Get up at nine instead."

"Sorry?" Hermione blurted out, not sure whether what she was hearing was correct, a figment of her imagination or a cruel joke.

"By the time you get to bed it'll be nearly two, and that's only five hours sleep. I don't want you overextending yourself. You'll be no use to anyone then." Draco stalked up the stairs without another word, and he was long gone by the time she recovered from her shock to mutter a small thank you.

Hermione was more confused than ever before. He was letting her have a lie in, something she'd only ever seen the Mistresses of the house receive before, and yet, at the same time, he was hiding a dark secret.

[♥]

It was only a few days later when Hermione was asked to look after the children again. Draco was hosting a party at the manor, so at the very least, he'd be there if anything went wrong. They were celebrating Bonfire Night, and Draco had had the place kitted out with the works. The place looked magnificent. Every room the Death Eaters could think to enter was decorated black and orange, and the garden had its own special touch. As well as the bonfire, Draco had also arranged a fireworks display and an entire table of treats, from toffee apples to parkin cake .

The Death Eaters would be arriving at seven thirty, and as soon as Scorpius was put to bed, Hermione was to come down and help serve at the party. She was more looking forward to serving the Death Eaters than spending another second trying to look after Scorpius. She was aware that this time, nothing could go wrong, for his parents were in the house and they wouldn't want to be shown up.

At quarter to eight, Hermione began to get Scorpius ready. He didn't kick off this time, but he did fuss when she tried to put his pyjamas on him and get him to brush his teeth. He appeared sleepy, and Hermione thought she'd never been so relieved. She read The Wizard and the Hopping Pot from The Tales of Beedle the Bard, since Scorpius had requested it, and found that once again, he was asleep before she'd finished.

Upon instructions from Draco, Hermione quickly dashed to her room to get changed into a more appropriate outfit. The garb she wore during the day would simply not do in front of those in power. She was well aware that everyone attending tonight had close connections with Lord Voldemort, and that although she belonged to Draco, they probably wouldn't hesitate to cop a feel every now and then when they didn't think he was looking. It was the same with Blaise, though Blaise knew it was going on and enjoyed watching it.

The outfit laid out on her bed was a short, black dress with a white ribbon around the middle and stockings to match. The shoes were kitten heels, much to her relief. The underwear provided was a lacy black set, the sort Blaise had demanded she wear everyday as opposed to special occasions. Hermione swallowed as she realised exactly what this underwear meant: Draco was going to claim her as his own tonight. She'd been aware it would happen one day and she was surprised he'd left it this long, but knowing it was going to happen so soon made her stomach churn.

Hermione dressed quickly, not wanting to attract anymore attention to herself than necessary. Although once she looked in the mirror, she realised the outfit provided would do more than its fair share of that tonight. With a deep breath, Hermione mentally prepared herself for the evening to come and headed towards the garden. There were Death Eaters milling about in the manor, but the main action was outside. She approached the gardens and the first thing that caught her eye was the biggest bonfire she'd ever seen, and the guy Scorpius had made yesterday sitting on a chair next to it.

Looking for Draco, Hermione scanned the garden. She had to report to him to find out what her specific duties were, but she couldn't see him anywhere. She walked slowly past the huddles of guests engaged in conversation, passing Astoria with an older woman that looked much like her and the infamous Severus Snape with Walden Macnair. Hermione finally found Draco around the other side of the bonfire with Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Marcus Flint. Draco tried to excuse himself from the conversation as soon as he saw her, but he only got two steps before his friends realised who she was.

"Wasn't she Blaise's Mudblood?" Theodore asked, an amused tone evident in his voice.

Pansy let out a squeal of delight. "Oh, it is! Draco, you naughty thing."

Draco glared at Pansy and took Hermione to one side. She was pleased that he hadn't joined in the fun and humiliated her, as Blaise had been prone to do. "How may I help tonight, Master Draco?"

"Ivy's working tirelessly in the kitchen. She's set up several trays of drinks that I'd like you to offer around to my guests. When one tray is full, go back to the kitchen to replace it and continue on your way. I want my guests to be well attended to." Draco looked back at his friends before continuing. "If anyone gives you any trouble, come and find me. I won't have anyone harassing my property. Understood?"

Hermione nodded and excused herself to the kitchens. She could hear Draco's friends talk about her as she left, and she blushed as she realised that everyone else here would be thinking the same thing. She wondered how Astoria would cope with the rumours, for it couldn't exactly be pleasant to hear your husband was cheating. Though perhaps it didn't matter, since Hermione was 'only a Mudblood', as Blaise had told her time and time again.

The trays Ivy had laid out for her all held different drinks, from mead to Firewhisky and everything in between. There were drinks there that Hermione had never even seen before, so if it wasn't already obvious, Draco certainly wanted to make an impression tonight. She took the first tray she came across and decided to offer these ones to the guests in the manor first, before she had to face going outside and seeing Draco's friends again.

"Drink, sir?" Hermione offered to a tall, dark man in the corner. If she remembered correctly from Blaise's many parties, he was Antonin Dolohov. He just sneered at her and waved her away. She continued further into the manor and came across of group of older witches, one of whom was the notorious Bellatrix Lestrange; her Master's aunt. Hermione had only ever seen her in passing before, so going up to her was rather intimidating. If she could have swerved by her, she would, but Bellatrix caught her eye as Hermione attempted to slip past.

"Going somewhere, girl?" Bellatrix called, and Hermione stopped in her tracks.

Hermione shook her head. "Would you like a drink, Ma'am?" She offered the tray to Bellatrix first, as it was clear she was the ringleader of the group. The blonde witch beside her, Draco's mother, looked at Hermione with something akin to pity, and the other three witches that Hermione didn't recognise simply sneered at her.

"That's better," Bellatrix said, stalking forward and snatching a glass of Firewhisky. She was so forceful that Hermione nearly dropped the tray, but quick reflexes saved her this time. "Clumsy Mudblood."

"Sorry, Ma'am," Hermione said quietly as she offered the other witches a drink. Narcissa delicately took a glass of mead, while the other two witches seemed offended that Hermione had even spoken to them. She was more than relieved to pass them by and approach a man sitting on the stairs next to the entrance of the East Wing. "Care for a drink, Sir?"

The man didn't seem to hear her. He was old and grey, by far the oldest in the manor, and she wondered exactly who he was. She guessed he must be one of the older witches or wizards' fathers, going just off the age.

"Sir?"

"Oh," the man said, looking up at her. "I didn't hear you. Yes. Firewhisky."

Hermione handed him a glass and he downed it in one, and when he demanded another and then another, Hermione could only oblige. He drank all the glasses of Firewhisky on the tray and then ordered her to fetch him some more. Hermione did, but by the time she'd got back to the stairs, he was nowhere to be seen. She sighed heavily and turned to go back to her duties, but she couldn't help but glance at the East Wing. Was Drusus still there? Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione looked around to make sure no-one was watching her, placed her tray on the stairs and then slipped into the forbidden once more. Having always been a curious girl, Hermione was certain that had she been allowed to be Sorted, she would have been a Ravenclaw. She thought of blue and silver as her colours, not that she'd ever had anything to put those colours on.

Hermione made a note to take in everything she saw as she went through the East Wing this time. She wanted to try and solve the mystery of the boy, and that could only be done by gathering as much information as possible and then piecing it together. She tried to enter a few of the doors along the way, but each and every single one of them was locked. When she approached Drusus' door, she very carefully and quietly prised it open, hoping he would be sleeping and her presence wouldn't wake him.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she let herself into the room and Drusus didn't even stir. She let her eyes wander the room and drink in everything they saw; from the blacked out windows to the more normal children's bedroom items such as wardrobes and toy chests. By the luxurious bed was an armchair, and a bookshelf just behind that. She took a few more steps into the room, treading carefully and being thankful for the carpet, but the closer she got to Drusus, the more magic she could feel.

There were wards surrounding his bed, and Hermione lifted up a hand to the outside of them. They were strong, exceptionally strong. She couldn't tell what charms had been placed around the bed, but if she had to guess, she'd bet her money on a silencing one at the very least. She also assumed the boy wouldn't be able to leave.

"What are you doing in here?"

Hermione spun at the voice of her Master, seeing him with a cold, calculated look upon his face. Never before had he looked so frightening. I knew it! It was a façade! "I... I..." Hermione stammered, unable to get any words out. She looked back to Drusus and saw he had not woken, then dared to look Draco in the eye. "I was just—"

"What did I tell you about the East Wing? Did I not make it clear that you were forbidden to enter?" Draco stepped forwards and grabbed Hermione forcefully by the arm. He dragged her out of the room and threw her against the door opposite. "Explain yourself."

"The other day," Hermione began, her voice faltering slightly, "I followed Scorpius in here. It was an accident. I wouldn't have come here intentionally."

"You have not followed Scorpius here tonight," Draco remarked. His voice was quiet, but there was a menacing air about it.

"No, but I was curious, after the other day. I wanted to know more about..." She hesitated before saying the boy's name. "Drusus."

Draco scowled. "You know his name?"

"Scorpius called out to him..."

"Pray tell, what was Scorpius doing running around the manor?"

"I went to get him a story and when I turned around he'd gone. I caught him entering the East Wing, but he ran away from me and I had to follow him. I couldn't just leave him."

If nothing else, Draco seemed to understand this.

After several moments of silence, Hermione dared ask the question that had been on her lips since Halloween. "Who is he?"

When Draco looked at her, she expected him to strike her, but the anger was only momentary and soon replaced with a softness. A sadness. "Our son. He is our son."

"Then why is he..." Hermione probed for more information; she didn't think she'd get this chance again.

The anger returned. "None of your damn business!" Draco roared at her, practically chasing her back to the party. "Now get out there and serve my guests before they die of thirst. And if you ever mention this to anyone ever again—including my wife or I—I swear you will wish you'd never been born."

It was hard for Hermione to compose herself as she made her way back to the kitchens, Draco following in her wake. It was very clear that something had happened between the two of them, but nobody dared ask. The tray she'd left had already been taken back, so once she entered, she grabbed a new one and took off to the gardens. The chance of anyone hearing their exchange this far away was minimal, so the only stares she expected to receive were for the outrageous outfit she was wearing.

"Drink, Sirs?" Hermione asked the group of men that contained Walden Macnair and Severus Snape. Both wizards gave an amused glance towards her attire, causing her to blush profusely. She made her way around the garden, coming upon Draco and his friends more than once. The second time, Marcus was wanting to know when they were going to throw the Guy on the bonfire.

Hermione couldn't say whether Draco was irritated because this wasn't the first time Marcus had asked, or if it was by her mere presence, but he looked her in the eyes as he harshly said, "Now. Let's burn the damn thing now." He went around the other side of the bonfire where the Guy was and called everyone's attentions. He made a short speech which Hermione didn't quite catch from her place behind most of the Death Eaters. Then, he cast a spell and levitated the Guy to the top of the bonfire, dropping it on the top to an array of cheers. Everyone present watched with marvellous joy as the Guy began to burn, and Bellatrix made a sour comment about how Claudia should have made a Guy too, then they could have "burnt two Muggles".

Slightly scared by Bellatrix's reaction, Hermione moved back inside the manor and grabbed a different tray. She was starting to miss looking after the children again; she realised it was far easier to cope with a four year old child than a manor full of people who wanted you dead. Thankfully, nobody had groped her yet, and she hoped that would continue for the rest of the night. With the Guy having been burnt, there was only the fireworks left to entertain, and the evening was getting on.

At precisely one minute past midnight, Draco called the crowds attention once more and asked them to stand back and prepare for the best fireworks show they'd ever seen. When it started, Hermione was just inside the manor, but she turned to watch it along with everyone else. Draco was right; it really was the best show she'd ever seen. The colours were vibrant, the fireworks were all very different to one another and it went on for over twenty minutes. When it stopped, many people said goodbye to Draco and Astoria and headed towards the Floo or the Apparition point outside the manor.

It took about fifteen minutes for everyone to leave, and soon it was only the three of them and Ivy left. Hermione stood next to them as Astoria shut the door, relaxing herself against it and heaving a sight of relief.

"Leave us," Draco said to his wife. It was such a stern, cold voice that Astoria had no choice but to obey. She frowned as she did so, and Hermione bet she'd be pestering Draco about it later. Only once Astoria was out of earshot did Draco begin. "I've got a damn good mind to Obliviate you for what you saw."

"No, no," Hermione pleaded immediately. She didn't want anyone fiddling with her memories. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please, Master Draco, please don't take my memories away from me."

Draco gave her a stern look. "A Mudblood's promises are as good as their dirty blood: worthless. That's what my father always said. Is it true, Mudblood?"

"Not of me, Sir," Hermione said hurriedly. "Please—"

"You know if I was determined to, you couldn't stop me."

"I know," Hermione whispered, bowing her head. "But even if I had anyone to tell—which I don't—I wouldn't. I would have nothing to gain."

After a few moments of silence, Draco said, "You can keep your memories, on two conditions."

"Anything."

"You never mention it to me or anyone else ever again, and you never, ever enter the East Wing again for as long as you live. Do either of those, and you'll find your memories not only gone, but replaced with something far more sinister." Draco pushed past her and headed upstairs. "And clean this damn mess up!" he yelled from the top step.

Hermione took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, then went out to the gardens to start the clean-up as best she could. As she did so, she couldn't help but be extremely surprised that Draco hadn't touched her, but she figured his anger must have put him off. Deep down inside, she was a little disappointed.

Click here for part two.