Summary: Hermione is captured and Draco has done something that deserves to be punished. The two of them are tortured onto the brink of insanity and then locked away together.
Quick Notes: I really need a beta :D Any ideas? By the way, there will probably be very citrus-y parts in this story (if you get me) so if you can also help me write lemons/limes I'd be truly grateful ;)
Chapter 1
He saw nothing other than a bright blur as the spell hit him.
He could only feel the cold stone floor as it scratched his skin painfully while he writhed in terror, angst, anger and pain.
Then everything stopped as quickly as it came and he saw Voldemort looming over him again, hissing out words and smiling cruelly at his once disciple.
It took him many moments to realise that the pain had stopped and many more moments for him to recover from that blackness he subconsciously hid in every time the Unforgivable was used on him. Voldemort was smiling cruelly and talking to Draco's father who had just stepped into view. The sore excuse of a man looked positively giddy as he voiced his plan and Lucius nodded, a grim line where his mouth was.
He didn't like seeing his son tortured in front of him, but the boy had certainly spoken out of line.
'Can you hear me, Draco?' Voldemort asked.
Draco blinked.
'Go to hell.' He responded and began to sit himself up.
Voldemort smiled widely and kicked him down. 'Now now, Draco. Just because you've abandoned me doesn't mean you can get away with anything you want. Crucio!'
Everything melded into one again. All the sensations he could have felt pooled into one massive, horrendously painful, mind blowing shock wave of pain that blinded him and sent both his mind and body into a state of insane... of insane nothingness... All he ever knew of pain was blown away as it ripped through his body causing to jerk wildly and flail his body around while only one thought was in his mind...
Curl up and die.
Die and know no more pain.
No more pain and live happily.
That wouldn't happen of course.
Not with his mind and body being attacked by the raging half-blood who so wanted this world to be pure.
And suddenly he could feel nothing, hear nothing, taste, see, hell! even smell nothing! It was as if the world had turned off... either that or his mind had. All he had were his thoughts and they weren't consoling at all. Just panicked, screaming thoughts all muddled up. First there had been so much pain it had been overwhelming.
And then there was nothing.
How on earth was he meant to comprehend that?
Voldemort released the spell and breathed in and out calmly, as if he had just done the simplest thing in the world. Lucius had his eyes fixed on the wall behind his son who wasn't responding to anything now... Never had he been a great father, but that was his own flesh and blood on the floor.
Just twitching... like a mad person...
Much like they had described the Longbottoms had. Apparently the same thing had happened to the Granger girl... tortured into insanity. She had yet to wake up from after her cruel torture.
Lucius doubted his son would ever be the same after this night. Voldemort had planned it that way, of course he had, the man was incredibly sadistic.
'I'm going to have him moved into the Manor with that Granger girl. It'll break him to know he'll have to rely on her and see so much of what his life used to be.' Voldemort nudged Draco with his foot. 'They'll have their wands.'
Lucius gaze immediately went from the wall to Voldemort. 'My Lord?' He asked.
Voldemort smiled internally. The man did love his son, how quaint. 'Let them have their wands, maybe they'll kill each other, maybe they'll try to escape together. Whatever they do, it won't matter. I am going to personally make sure the two of them never escape from there, you don't mind though, do you, Lucius?'
'N-no, My Lord.' Lucius stammered quickly.
Voldemort stopped attacking Draco with his foot. 'Good. Go prepare the mudblood and traitor to be moved into the Manor. They'll wake up soon enough. Lost and confused, sad and hopeful. Then they'll realise they can never escape and all they have is each other, ironic, really...' Voldemort continued to speak as Lucius left the room.
He'd just lost his wife and now his son to Voldemort. In all his life, he had never regretted joining the Death Eaters so much in his Pureblooded life.
cxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcx
Hermione could feel the pain in her body still raging. Feel the sting of the cuts trying to heal. Feel her warm breath land on a cut on her arm that she had cradled to her face. Her breathing wasn't even, it was more like a rattling breath of a long time smoker. She began to force her eyes open and groan. Everything was so painful. She was parched, famished, severely injured and probably didn't have her wand.
Her eyelids creeped up and all she saw was a faint light. Trying to stay as silent as possible she pushed her head up of the ground and groaned again.
Her wand!
It was right there!
Just lying there on the incredibly intricate rug!
Rug? Her mind queried in confusion... nothing made sense anymore anyway.
She focused all of her willpower onto that one hand and told it to move. Her mind screamed at it, telling it to move and ignore all the pain. As if to mock her, a jolt of strong pain went up through her arm, jolting her as she overstretched it. She let out a sound that was a cross between a gurgle and a scream. It sounded like a drowning puppy to her.
Her fingers curled over her wand and a wave of relief washed through her.
She cast random healing spells and hoped they would take effect on her. Spells to stop the pain, to numb everything up, to heal her cuts, to make her feel generally better. Just anything she could think off. As long as it helped, she used it.
Hermione continued that process of just firing spells, hoping they might rebound onto her.
Nothing helped though.
Her eyes closed and nothingness enveloped her, it was comforting actually...
Soo... like?
Please review, point out my grammatical errors, I'm positive there are heaps. I'm not big on editing so fire away with the constructive criticism!
R&R!