Title: Dead To The World
Author: scarletladyy
Prompt: #9 - A pureblood or "wizarding blood" breeding farm or Harem, submitted by queenie_mab, originally to hp_owned
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hannah Abbott
Word Count: 3,314
Rating: R
Warnings: Voldemort!wins, non-con, captivity, non-graphic sex
Summary: Repopulating the wizarding world after so much magical blood has been spilt is no easy task, but the Dark Lord has insisted it be done, and his plans need to be followed to the letter.
Author's Notes: I had so much fun with this prompt. I loved it as soon as I saw it, and I have so many notes and extra plot lines that aren't even mentioned here. I can easily see it prompting several different stories, not only focused on Draco and Hannah, but various other characters too. Thank you to my lovely beta, flipflop_diva. Written for hp_adoptaprompt 2013.

The leaflets were everywhere—titled "Repopulating The Wizarding World, and How You Can Help". They were mainly for the pure-bloods, informing them how they could do their duty and what the Dark Lord was doing about half-bloods and Muggleborns. Hannah had seen them before she was captured; she can still remember the horror when she read about the Dark Lord's plans.

Too much magical blood had been spilt in the war, so the Dark Lord intended to utilise half-bloods and Muggleborns without their will while strongly encouraging the pure-bloods to start their families (or, in the cases of older witches and wizards, to have children all over again. That was the beauty of magical folk living longer; they were able to have babies much later in their years than Muggles were). Hannah had heard on the grapevine that any pure-bloods appearing to be unwilling to do their duty after a certain amount of time would be forced into it.

They wouldn't have to live in the conditions the rest of the magical world did, though. They'd be forced to have their babies in their luxurious manors while having loving families to look after them, though doubtless they'd still complain about the 'injustice'. They wouldn't spare a second thought for those—like Hannah and the other women—suffering what some called a fate worse than death. The goal was still the same—to produce a baby—but unlike pure-blood women, they were raped repeatedly, treated with contempt and disgust, and ultimately used as baby-making machines. Half-blood women were considered relatively lucky by Muggleborn women, if only for the fact that after they'd produced their first baby and given it over to the cause, they were set free and allowed to find partners to settle down and start a family with. Muggleborn women, while they were able to be freed after their first baby too, would never be able to start a family of their own. They were allowed to marry Muggleborn men and adopt children, but the Dark Lord wanted the purest babies he could get, and that meant they could never have their own children again.

It sounded barbaric, and that's because it was. The conditions they lived in were horrific. There were rows upon rows of cells with Muggleborn and half-blood women in them, all in various stages of pregnancy. If a witch had not conceived after three months of repeated rapes, they were put through a harrowing process to find out if they were actually able to have children. If they were found to be infertile, they were deemed useless and disposed of.

Any babies born were given to the unfortunate pure-blood families who were unable to have children, witches and wizards too old to conceive, or those with not 'enough' children. Half-blood children were more desired, of course, but all babies were to find homes. Those out of favour with the Dark Lord would receive a Muggleborn baby without question, while those in his good books would be rewarded with a half-blood child.

Nobody knew how long the regime would be kept up, or when the Dark Lord would finally decide the population had been returned to its original state. He might even want the wizarding world to be more populated than it had been before the wars.

Even though the babies were so important to the Dark Lord and his new world order, the women were not treated any better once they managed to conceive. They were still raped because the Death Eaters liked to enjoy themselves, and apart from the food and vitamins—which the Dark Lord insisted upon for a healthy baby—nobody gave a care in the world for the morning sickness, the aching backs, the frequent urination trips or the swollen ankles. They were expected to carry on as before, living in the same cells on the same crappy cot beds with the same bucket for a toilet.

The only light in their day was when they were able to mix with the other women. They were allowed out of their cells for a maximum of three hours, socialising in the communal areas and, sometimes, if they were lucky, being taken out into the warded grounds for a walk. Whether they were able to get some fresh air was entirely up to the guard on duty; some were kinder than others. The women had learnt by now exactly who would allow them an extra inch, and who to avoid at all costs.

Hannah was unfortunately in her allowed second month. She had mixed feelings about that. While she was relieved that she was not carrying her rapist's baby, she was also acutely aware that once she was, and had given birth, she would be freed and allowed to start her own family. She didn't worry about being infertile like the Muggleborn women did; if that turned out to be the case, she'd be freed immediately and allowed to adopt. Part of her hoped that would be her outcome; she couldn't imagine the sheer emotional trauma of having your baby forced from your arms, never to be seen again. It sent some women mad.

Hannah had always wanted children, and it didn't matter to her one bit whether the baby was adopted or not. If she turned out to be infertile and was given a Muggleborn baby, that baby would be all hers. The fact that it wouldn't have her blood would be completely irrelevant; she, unlike others she could name, did not care about blood at all. Giving birth did not make you a parent; caring for a child gave you that title. She would be the child's mother, and she'd be able to choose a nice half-blood man to be its father.

When it came to men, half-blood and Muggleborn males were not left out of the regime, either. They were not allowed to rape the women—that privilege was given only to pure-blood men to strengthen the blood status—but they were expected to help with organisation, guarding the women and running day-to-day activities the pure-bloods felt beneath them. Once half-blood men had served a term of one year, they earned the right to be placed upon The Eligible Bachelor Register. Women were able to choose a male from the list (which had pictures, descriptions and medical histories) as a 'thank you' for helping to repopulate the wizarding world, though they were restricted to the men who shared their blood status.

Muggleborn men were considered the lowest of the low, and easily disposable. If they committed any crime or gave any trouble whatsoever, they were gone. They were allowed to be placed upon the register after five years of service, and the majority of their tasks were ones even the half-blood men recoiled at. They had the fewest rights possible, and even once they were able to marry and adopt, they were still kept a close eye on. They were limited in what they could do and where they could go. They, like the half-bloods, were second-class citizens, only they were a lot worse off.

Hannah often thought about the man she'd choose from the register. She wanted a loving, caring husband and father; she would take the man's personality into consideration the most, with looks far down the list. To help her get through her ordeal, she fantasised about her future husband and the life they would have. The friends they would make, the jobs they would hold, and growing old together. Along with always having wanted children, she'd always wanted to get married, too. She dreamed of her wedding to help pass the time. When she finally did leave, she wouldn't need a long engagement, having already formed the majority of the plans in her head.

When that time came, life would become relatively normal again. She and her family would be limited in their roles in society, but she'd at least be able to live in it and maintain a semblance of happiness. It would never be as she had always dreamed it so, but it would be okay as long as she did not dwell on those still in the conditions she'd have survived.

Only, Hannah was a Hufflepuff. She was a good person, a fair person, she liked justice and happiness. She knew that as hard as she tried, she'd never be able to completely forget what was going on, as the majority of the pure-bloods who didn't have to work with them did. For all intents and purposes, those in the re-population centres were dead to the world, and for her own sanity, she'd try to adopt the same thinking when she was free. She knew she'd never be able to protest it; while not as easily disposable as the Muggleborns, trouble was still not tolerated by the half-bloods, and they would be forced back into service once more as punishment. Hannah was sure she would not be able to go through this ordeal a second time.

"Good evening, Hannah," Draco said pleasantly as he entered her cell and took off his travelling cloak. He folded it neatly on the chair in the corner of the room and came to sit next to her on the cot. She was relived he'd turned up and brought her out of her thoughts; she had a tendency to get very melancholic if left to brew for too long. "How are you today?"

Draco was always very genial. It unnerved her. He was her assigned pure-blood; all half-blood women had one, and therefore only had to suffer being raped by one man. Muggleborn women were basically free-for-alls. She wondered why he didn't just get it over and done with and forget the pleasantries. It's not as if he really cared how she was. It was probably to ease his guilty conscience; it was a well-known rumour that Draco didn't have the stomach for Death Eater activities as much as his father did. "Fine. You?"

"Don't be like that." He placed a hand on her knee and smiled at her. She'd long ago got over flinching at his every touch. "I thought you'd want to hear about my latest wedding developments. You like weddings, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied, though that really was beside the point.

"Pansy is driving me mad. I don't get any peace at home, nor when I'm out either, thanks to her constant owls. Honestly, you're the one moment of solitude in my day."

Hannah faked a little laugh. She'd wanted to ask if Pansy minded him coming to see her for a while now, but she'd never dared to. She didn't know how he would react. She was aware that some pure-blood women turned a blind eye to it, while for others—the jealous ones—it was driving a wedge between their marriage. Hannah didn't know what they had to be jealous of. She suspected they wouldn't be so jealous if they only had to live her life for one day. She supposed Pansy must be the former, else Draco would have said something, being as talkative as he was. She didn't know though, and she wanted to know for some reason.

"Apparently the bridesmaids' dresses she'd ordered are out of stock in the colour she wanted, and won't be ready in time for the wedding, so she's having to choose a different design. It took her months to pick the first one, and she's got to choose this one quick so they'll have time to make it." Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, and the band accidentally double booked so we've got to find another. And of course, the reception venue we chose is saying we can't use their garden for photos due to another wedding that booked first. Honestly, it's enough to drive anyone mad."

"Yes," Hannah agreed. "It does sound like a lot of hassle. I wouldn't mind it, though. I expect I'd actually enjoy it."

Draco laughed. "Probably." He moved the hand on her knee up and down in an attempt at a comforting gesture. "It'll be your turn one day. We just need to get this business over and done with." He stood and began to undress; it was that time again. "Here's your potion. Come on, undress. I don't have that long today."

Hannah nodded and began to take her clothes off. She wasn't embarrassed about being naked in front of Draco any more; he'd seen her body from every single angle many times before. The thought of anyone else seeing her so vulnerable made her shudder, though. She remembered exactly how she'd felt when Draco had first begun coming to her; she was glad she didn't feel like that any more, but rather sad that it had got to such a point. She discarded her old and worn robes on the floor, drank the lubrication potion and got back onto the bed, positioning herself on all fours. Draco didn't like to see her face when he fucked her; he'd always made that very clear.

It wasn't personal, she knew. He didn't think she was ugly or unattractive, he just couldn't bear to look at her. She thought it was more because he didn't want the faces of his rape victims etched into his mind. Besides, he didn't need to look at her body to get an erection anyway; he always took a potion beforehand too.

Draco got on the cot behind her. "Ready?" She nodded and he entered her smoothly. The lubrication potion had prepared her so there wouldn't be any friction, and she knew Draco's potion helped to keep him aroused, so the ordeal wouldn't last too long. After the first few times, where it was awkward and uncertain, it never had. She was thankful; she'd heard horror stories of other women's rapes going on for hours, though they were conducted by the more brutal and sadistic Death Eaters. If she was grateful for anything in this life that she was being forced to endure, it was that she'd been assigned to Draco Malfoy.

Hannah kept relatively still as she let Draco fuck her, trying to ignore his fingers on her hips, his balls slapping against her and the moans he was making. She closed her eyes to try to block it all out, as she did every time, but it never worked completely. Sometimes, during the day when she was bored or at night when she struggled to drift off to sleep, she relived the acts all over again. It wasn't brutal rape, but it was still rape.

A loud groan emanated from Draco as he came inside her, his fingers pressing firmly into her bottom. He didn't wait and kiss her on the forehead, as she expected a lover might do, rather pulled out as quickly as possible. He got dressed immediately, but she wouldn't until after he'd gone. She wanted to clean up first.

"Once you conceive, I won't come and see you anymore unless you want me to," Draco said as he buttoned up his robes. "I'm not a rapist."

Except that, in fact, he was, whether he liked it or not. She didn't know what to say to that, so she just kept quiet. She knew it was his attempt at being kind, and she supposed it was the best he could do in such a situation, but that didn't make it any easier for her.

Draco checked his pocket watch. "I have a few more minutes before I need to leave." He smiled and sat back down next to her again. "It's my stag do tonight. Pansy insisted it be at least two weeks before the wedding, to make sure nothing awful happened to me. I think she had visions of me being tied naked to a lamppost or being sent off on a sleeper train to the middle of France." He frowned. "Actually, she might have a point. I am a bit worried."

"Who's going?"

"Well, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle, Marcus, Harper and Pucey were my choices, but Macnair, Avery, Dolohov, Yaxley and a couple of others firmly insisted on coming." Draco rolled his eyes. "Thankfully, my father wants nothing to do with it. I don't plan on getting drunk, but I wouldn't put it past several of the latter members to spike my drinks. Oh, and Pansy's demanded there be no strippers, but with a group like that, what can you expect? I thinks she knows there will be, she just made it clear she won't tolerate it so nobody will mention it around her."

Hannah shrugged. "I don't blame her. Not sure I'd want my future husband to watch naked ladies dance in a celebration he's having because we're getting married."

"Yeah, I guess. I don't even want the strippers, you know. I don't even want the stag do!" He looked away from her and stared at the door. "Not like I have any choice, though. Over anything really, wedding related or otherwise."

"You have more choice than me," Hannah remarked. "Or the other women you see."

Draco smiled wanly. "You're my favourite, you know. Out of all the women I'm assigned to, I enjoy coming to see you the most."

He enjoyed seeing her? That was a revelation and a half.

"No, not like that." Draco started to clarify his statement; the look on her face must have displayed her confusion. "I don't enjoy the... sex. I just like you. I can talk to you and we have interesting conversations." He thought for a moment and then came up with a better way to say what he was meaning to. "I enjoy your company, is what I mean."

"Er, thanks." Hannah smiled a little. "I enjoy yours too." It was true; if you took the rapes out of the equation, Draco was pleasant to hang out with.

Draco stood, clearly uncomfortable. "I, er, I best go." He checked his pocket watch again. "Yeah, I need to get ready for tonight."

"Have a good time," she called after him as he hurriedly left her. It seemed he couldn't wait to get away. Maybe her words had made him uneasy; maybe he didn't want to hear the same from her. She sighed and grabbed some tissues from her little rickety table to clean up. Only later, in a few hours' time, would she be allowed to have a proper wash. She'd long got used to the feeling of being dirty, and it wasn't as if her robes were exactly clean anyway. Sometimes, if she asked or Draco remembered, he'd spell them clean for her. He always seemed eager to do anything he could for her, or at least, anything that was in his power to do so (and wouldn't arouse too much suspicion for him).

Even though she'd hardly moved, the sex had made her exhausted. She slept most of the time now, only really waking when Draco came to see her or it was time to socialise. She pulled on her earlier discarded robes and settled down on the cot, closing her eyes. She thought of the stag do her future husband would have, and subsequently, the hen do she'd enjoy.

Thoughts of L-plates, feather boas and whistles filled Hannah's mind as she imagined her night on the town with her friends. It could be a long way off yet, if she got pregnant in the next month or so, but that didn't stop her daydreaming about it. It was much better than recounting what had just happened, or staring at the cobwebs on the ceiling. As she drifted further and further into a deep sleep, her future husband's face turned into Draco's, where before it had remained relatively blank. She was far too tired to address what it meant, but she did have a passing concern that maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to have certain very unwanted feelings for Draco Malfoy.