Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or have rights to any characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling. This piece of Fanfiction has not been written for profit, but purely for the entertainment of myself and hopefully others.
The Drawing Room
"CRUCIO!" screamed the raven-haired witch, as red-sparks erupted from her walnut wand and hit the huddled figure that was tied to the chair before her. "Argghhhhhhhhh!" An ear-splitting scream erupted from the helpless young woman, who was weeping as waves of the Cruciatus curse hit her willowy body, again and again. The black haired witch howled with laughter as she observed the suffering of her prisoner. The conflicting noises reverberated off the mahogany panels that lined the walls of the large room that played host to opulent furnishings and rare magical artefacts. A large chandelier held dozens of candles above the two women, and provided the room with an eerie, flickering light. Such a palatial setting, was not one in which the average witch or wizard would have expected to find Bellatrix Lestrange delighting in the torture of Hermione Granger.
Hermione wrestled against the chains that were holding her to the large oak chair. Each spell electrified her body; inflaming her pain receptors so that her entire body convulsed. "Had enough yet, you thieving little slut?" crowed Bellatrix in a malevolent whisper, leaning down so far that Hermione could feel her ice cold breath raise the fine hairs on her neck. She let out an involuntary shudder in response. Hermione tried to focus on the wall ahead of her, instead of the pain that would surely be cast upon her imminently. Bellatrix traced a finger along the nape of her neck and grabbing her chin with her left hand, aligned her head so that they were looking straight into each other's face. Hermione resisted, causing Bellatrix to tighten her grip. "Well, girly; I know exactly what I'm going to do with you now. If the Cruciatus curse won't break you, this most certainly will" said Bellatrix, gleefully before casting a look to the door in expectation. Hermione wondered what she could possibly have stored that could inflict more pain than she had already endured, and gulped.
Her torturer reassembled herself, drawing herself up to her full and magnificent height. Pacing around the chair holding her prisoner, Bellatrix surveyed the girl's figure eagerly. Her eyes lingered upon the small, pert breasts encapsulated behind Hermione's staid sweater, the well-formed thighs, thin ankles and luscious mane of dark brown hair... The Mudblood has it coming to her, thought Bellatrix decisively and she moved towards the large oak door. Raising her long wand to the lock, she muttered "Alohomora" and made a swift exit
Shortly after she had stepped out of the room, Hermione could hear Bellatrix say another spell to lock the door once more. Knowing that she was alone, Hermione allowed herself to descend into a greater pit of despair. She would not give any of the Death Eaters the satisfaction of seeing the true extent of her agony. She had been sat in this restrictive position for more than two days and tortured for at least 35 hours in total. What more could the Bellatrix possibly do? Hermione knew full well that neither Bellatrix nor any of the other Death Eaters would want to kill her outright. She was far too valuable, as a direct link to Harry. They had trussed her up in an attempt to discover whether Hermione had plundered the Lestrange vault. But no amount of torture had extracted the confession that they expected. Her entire body ached from the near-constant bombardment of eye-wateringly painful curses that it had sustained. Resting her head against the back of the chair, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus upon positive thoughts. She knew that Ron, Harry and the others were in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, possibly not far underneath the room she was in. She was confident that they would all escape this hellhole, and that someone would come to her rescue. All she could do; was wait.
Before Hermione knew it, the sound of footsteps approaching sounded on the parquet floor that lined the hallway that led up to the drawing room. She could hear the mutter of voices growing ever nearer, and realised that Bellatrix was returning – but she was not alone. Her mind racing, Hermione's senses began to flare and she could feel the twinges of pain grow stronger, as if her body knew that it faced further turmoil. Eventually, she saw the brass handle move downwards and Bellatrix swaggered into the room. Her flyaway black hair was falling out of a badly assembled beehive-style arrangement; causing her to look even more deranged than Hermione had ever seen her previously. Lucius Malfoy followed Bellatrix into the room, holding his signature serpent-headed cane in white gloved hands. Hermione scowled as she met his gaze, noting that his face was contorted into the arrogant smirk that she had come to expect from him. "Well, Miss Granger. What are we to do with you?" he asked, in a mingled tone of curiosity and revulsion. " Bella tells me that she can't get anything out of you, is that right?" Hermione nodded weakly, before quietly murmuring "I didn't break into the vault" "YOU LYING MUDBLOOD SLUT!" shrieked Bellatrix, raising her wand and aiming at Hermione's head. This action was promptly knocked back by Lucius, who raised his cane and swiftly pushed her wand down. "You've had your turn, Bella. In coming to get me, you have acknowledged your own failure to complete a simple task" said Lucius, spitefully. Bellatrix turned er wand upon Lucius, but one angry glare from him and she backed down. Hermione though that she did so surprisingly willingly. Very unusual.
Fear and anticipation coursed through Hermione's veins as Lucius motioned for Bellatrix to leave the room. Her panic levels slowly began to decrease. Lucius was nowhere near on the same sadistic level as the pathologically manic Mrs Lestrange. She was still not remotely at ease, but she believed in earnest that Lucius Malfoy was far more mentally stable and was probably more interested in the safety of his son than defending Bellatrix' belongings. He had shown himself to be duplicitous and manipulative with regards to his allegiance to Voldemort and dedication to the cause of the Death Eaters. As Lucius ushered Bella out of the room, he heard him hiss "Disturb me at your peril" in a low voice. "I can handle the filthy little mudblood from here".
Lucius lowered his cane to floor as he walked back over to Hermione. He stopped, less than a foot away from her; placing hands upon hips as he spoke down to her. "You will do as I wish" he said simply. "I will not" she countered and fixed her wide brown eyes upon the imposing flints embedded in Malfoy's chiselled face. "Oh, you will" he said quietly. He wasn't expecting Hermione's response to this, and looked genuinely taken aback when she uttered the words "Go fuck yourself" as all of her anger and pain was released in her clear voice. "Not a very civil tongue, Miss Granger. After all I have heard about you; I expected better. I suppose you have picked up that coarse language from that Weasley boy. How very pathetic..." he drawled. Angered further by his impervious condescension, Hermione took one breath and spat at him. The spittle landed on his rich velvet cloak, and as he watched it trickle downwards; Lucius allowed his lips to curl into a thin smile. "I think you need to learn some manners, and act more appropriately in the company of your betters" he continued, leaning in to pat Hermione's purpled face with his gloved hand. He laughed, slightly at a forethought, before standing back up and casting a spell upon the chair. Immediately, the chains released; leaving Hermione feeling dazed and confused at his surprising actions.
What could Lucius possibly have planned? I wonder...
I promise that there will be more soon, so please review the progress so far and offer suggestions as to what you would like to see happening with this piece.
