Baton Rouge

- 11 -

How could she have been so stupid to leave her pills lying around in the open? She had never been so careless in the brothel. But there she had always lived with the fear that someone would misappropriate her hard-earned feel-good makers if she didn't have an eye on them. Apparently she had just felt too safe in Malfoy's apartment.

Before Hermione could think any further about what she was doing, she had her hands on his forearm, making them both stagger.

"Don't take them away from me, please. You don't know what it's like. What choice do I have?" she almost screamed.

By now, all she felt was fear and anger with Malfoy who, of all people, was acting the moralizer.

She shook his arm and the small package flew away from them and skidded several meters over the bare parquet floor. Hermione dropped Malfoy's arm, pushed herself off him and ran after the bag. She only got a few steps before Malfoy's arm wrapped relentlessly around her waist and pulled her back again. She screamed until he pressed a hand over her mouth and somehow managed to push her chest against the door.

"Stop struggling," he forced out, and Hermione's muscles went limp in one fell swoop.

Once again she cursed the damn contract and at the same time Malfoy for being to blame for all of this. As much as she had just been happy about the warm apartment and the books, she now would prefer to walk straight back to the Baton Rouge, where nobody interfered in her personal affairs. She felt a wet trail on her cheek and licked a salty drop from her lip.

„Fuck, Granger, are you crying?"

The pressure eased and Hermione managed to turn around to face him. She glared at Malfoy and pressed her hands against his chest, putting the necessary distance between them.

"Just out of anger," she said hoarsely, even though she definitely felt like crying right now.

Hermione could imagine the satisfaction it gave him to hurt her. He was going to have a lot of fun over the next few days while she would probably be shivering and vomiting on his sofa. And the worst part was that she couldn't do anything against it - at least not properly. But if Malfoy really acted on his threats, then she would think of something to make the next days hell for him as well. Bastard!

While she had been thinking, he had let go of her and picked up the plastic bag with the pills. Hermione watched helplessly as he raised his wand and immediately set the whole thing ablaze. She sobbed softly and pressed her hands to her eyes, which she wasn't even embarrassed about at that moment. Her whole mind was foggy with the thought of the loss.

„You nasty prick," was all she croaked out, but Malfoy didn't seem to mind.

"It's better for you, Granger. Hell, you don't have to do that - that's not you." His voice was unusually soft, but in her state Hermione had little use for it.

She was positive he meant to harm her, and besides that, Draco Malfoy wasn't her biggest problem anymore. Had she actually thought it couldn't get any worse? How naive she had been. Apparently, fate wasn't kind to her.

She was still rubbing the tears from her eyes, but Malfoy seemed to think it best to leave her alone for now. Fair enough. At least he didn't have to worry about her just running off or doing anything else he didn't want. "After all, I'm your slave now," she murmured, devastated, although she felt childish by doing so.

If Malfoy heard her words, he wasn't impressed. He picked up the blanket from the floor and folded it neatly. Then he disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes, and Hermione used the time to collect herself and take a deep breath. She tried to regain the optimism that had always characterized her in the past. Her efforts were in vain.