Hi everybody! Thank you for taking an interest in my first ever HP fanfiction. This story was actually first published in 2013 but I never (to my immense guilt and shame) got around to finishing it. I recently re-read the first few chapters and decided I was going to give it another go, but in doing so I noticed a few mistakes and a couple of details I want to change, so this is the new-and-improved edited version.
To anyone re-reading this, I won't be making big changes to the story or characters, so don't worry about having to read the whole thing again (unless you want to!). It's just to fix the odd thing here and there, and to re-familiarise myself with the story so that I can pick up where it left off and tie up all of those loose ends. I don't think there will actually be that many more chapters after the last one I posted, but I don't like leaving it unfinished like this.
If you would like to leave me any feedback (positive or negative), reviews or PMs are much appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters, locations and canon story owned by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended, honest!
Chapter 1
Shrieks of laughter mingle with agonised screams, the hideous mixture bouncing off the walls and echoing like a banshee choir. The girl's heels drum involuntarily on the floor as she suffers the worst pain she has ever experienced. Her body reacts instinctively, desperately seeking escape when screaming isn't enough of an outlet for the pain. Vision greying round the edges, she tries to turn her head, to look away from her tormentor's black, frenzied eyes. Someone's shouting her name, a voice she knows, but she can't see him. Can't reach him. Can only lie there and scream while her sanity is ripped away from her at the tip of a wand, the blade of a knife. A loud 'crack' resounds through the room and somehow, even though she can't see anything past the darkness bleeding across her vision, she knows they've gone. They've gone and left her to die.
Jerking awake, she gasped first in relief that she had woken from the nightmare, then in renewed panic as she remembered where she was. Opening her eyes made no difference to the darkness; no light pervaded this dungeon, except for the lanterns brought by whichever Death Eater had been chosen that day to take her upstairs, or (less regularly) when she was brought food. It had almost become a routine and, though the pain never got any easier to bear, she had learned fairly quickly that the less she struggled and fought on the way to the torture chamber, the sooner it would be over and she would be returned to the darkness. Despite this, in a twisted way she almost looked forward to being taken upstairs, simply to experience being able to see for a few hours. The torture was awful, beyond description, but being left down here with her nightmares and paranoia had rapidly become just another form of torture.
The events of that particular nightmare had occurred weeks ago, or so she believed; it was impossible to tell days from nights down here. She'd tried counting how many times she was brought food, but pretty soon she'd started forgetting to count because of her ravenous hunger. Besides, what did it matter? The important thing was that she was still here, still a prisoner. Nobody had come back for her. The only reason she was still alive was Bellatrix Lestrange's thirst for vengeance against the girl who, in her eyes, was the cause of the Dark Lord's displeasure with his most faithful follower. Bellatrix would never let her die while she could still wring a few screams out of her.
In the beginning, she'd felt smugness or even pleasure when she imagined the Dark Lord's fury at Bellatrix and the Malfoys after he heard that they had lost Harry Potter. Now it was difficult to feel anything but terror every time she was reminded of the world upstairs. She didn't even resent the fact she had been 'given' like an object to Bellatrix anymore. Her resentment had gone when she'd realised it would just make her situation worse.
A sudden sound made her jump, then there was a light, bright and sharp at the other end of the corridor. Her heart started to race and a whimper of panic caught in her throat.
No no please not yet I don't want to go please not now-
"Hey, Granger. It's lunchtime."
Hermione realised she'd been whimpering her pleas aloud and flushed with embarrassment, even as relief flooded through her. "Nott?"
"The very same." Theo smiled as he hung the lantern on a hook out in the corridor, illuminating the cell. After the intense darkness, the light was too bright for Hermione's eyes. She shielded her face through her fingers as he opened the cell door and stepped inside, setting down a small jug of water on the floor beside her. Taking another step, he held out a plate. "Here."
"Th-Thanks," she stammered, resisting the urge to snatch the plate from him and stuff her face. She hadn't been fed more than a couple of mouthfuls a day since she was imprisoned and her body was crying out for food. Unfolding her other arm from around her abdomen, she reached out for the plate, shivering as she did so. She'd almost felt warm, huddled in a ball, but now the cold dampness of the dungeon air crept down her neck and made her teeth chatter.
"Gods, it's cold down here!" Nott rubbed his arms to ward off the chills. "You're going to freeze if they don't give you a blanket or something."
Hermione shrugged, not looking up from the small bowl of cold vegetable stew she was currently investigating with a finger. Deciding it was alright, she started shovelling it into her mouth, unable to slow down in her desperation for nourishment. Had it been any other Death Eater bringing her food, she would wait until they'd gone so she could eat it carefully. Hidden shards of glass, the scrapings of what had tasted like an ashtray and other awful additions had taught her to be cautious to the point of paranoia. Nott had always been kind, though. He wouldn't do anything like that to her.
Theo watched her eat, looking down at her with a surge of pity for the girl's plight. Nobody deserved the full brunt of Bellatrix's wrath, especially when this was all they had to return to afterwards. At least Draco had been allowed to crawl to his bedroom and recover in relative comfort after his punishment a few weeks back. He felt a stab of hatred and disgust for everyone who had contributed on the wrong side of this awful war. Especially for himself, when he saw every day just how bad it was and still did nothing to change it.
The lantern flickered and he remembered the other reason he'd come down. He let himself back out of the cell and locked it behind him, turning to the cell on the other side of the corridor. He wasn't allowed to know who was in the cell and had been given strict instructions to put the food down on the floor by the door and get out. He was not to interact with the other prisoner in any way and would be questioned under Veritaserum if there was any suspicion that he had done so. He didn't even dare spend much time wondering why, fearing that this seemingly harmless musing could invoke the Dark Lord's wrath.
Theo carried out his orders quickly and went back to Hermione's cell, noting with a smile that she stopped wolfing her stew and had instead evenly divided the food into two portions, apparently saving half for later. That was something she'd started doing after a week or so; he wondered it if was a means of pretending, just for a few seconds, that everything was alright as long as she had control over something. Maybe it was just so that she wouldn't be hungry later. Whatever it was, he just hoped it worked for her.
"Who's in there?" she asked, looking up as she set the half-empty water jug back down. "I didn't see anyone get brought down."
"I don't know," he replied, alarm bells starting to ring in his head. I can't have this conversation, especially not with her! "I, uh, I have to go now," he said quickly.
"You have to go already?" She jerked her head up, disappointment mixed with fear etched into her face. "Don't go yet, Nott- Theo, please."
"I have to. I'm sorry," he said honestly, feeling a pang of both happiness and despair as she called him by his first name in her desperation. There had long been - still was - a part of him that had longed to hear her call him 'Theo' for years. He'd much rather stay down here with her than go back up and be told what his next mission would be, but this conversation was in very dangerous territory now. "I'll try to come back tomorrow. And there's a treat for you under the bread," he added, trying fruitlessly to distract her.
"No, Theo! Please don't leave me down here!" She ran to the bars and clutched them desperately. "Please, Theo!"
This was the part he hated the most. He could handle anger, or resentment, or even fear, though he wouldn't enjoy them. But he'd take them any day over this dreadful, desperate pleading. It took all of his will and self-control not to go straight back and enfold her in his arms. But he had a part to play and it didn't involve being friendly with Bellatrix's "pet mudblood".
Hermione knew she was embarrassing herself, but she didn't care. She just didn't want to be left alone again. "Theo!" she screamed against the bars, but he didn't turn around. The light disappeared with him, leaving her in pitch darkness.
It took several minutes (though it felt like hours) before her heartbeat started to settle back into something like a normal rhythm. She had managed to keep her terror from developing into a full-blown panic attack, but it was still enough to leave her panting harshly with both hands clasped around her knees, trying to will her heart to behave. It was a horrible feeling, being able to feel her heartbeat without touching her chest; it made her feel slightly sick, but she focused on her breathing until her heartbeat returned to normal and her body stopped shaking quite so violently. Despite everything, she always felt a little annoyed that this seemed to happen every time she was plunged back into the darkness. This was supposed to be where she felt, if not safe, then at least safer than anywhere else. Something similar happened every time she was dragged upstairs for her daily dose of torture, but at least there were more distractions up there. Down here, all she had to think about was how alone and helpless she was, a sensation she was growing horribly used to.
She put her hand down on something dusty and remembered that she had food beside her. Regardless of her usual custom of leaving some for later, she decided to heed her starving stomach and picked up the bread - and promptly dropped it in disgust as her fingers touched something cold and greasy. It definitely wouldn't be the first time someone had put something awful on her food, though she had never expected it from Nott. Guess he really was too good to be true, she thought bitterly. Then she paused as she remembered something he'd said before he left.
"...there's a treat for you under the bread."
She raised her hand to her face and cautiously licked the tip of one finger. Her eyes widened and she took a bite of the bread, almost groaning with pleasure as the delicious taste of butter filled her mouth. She'd never tasted anything so lovely as that piece of dry, thinly buttered bread. Tears sprang to her eyes as she realised exactly what Theo had done. He'd risked his own safety - being nice to the mudblood was punishable by torture or even death, if Bellatrix was in a bad mood - just to give her a nicer meal? To make her happy? Why would he do that for her, a filthy mudblood, lowest of the low?
Hermione took two more bites, but then forced herself to set the bread down and leave some for later. It wouldn't do to eat the whole thing now and have nothing for dinner. Or whatever meal it was. She had no way to tell and no-one to ask.
The darkness and silence stretched on for what felt like several hours before Hermione decided it was time to finish her food. Pitifully grateful that nobody had come to take it away, she pulled the plate towards her and picked up the small bowl of vegetable stew, tipping the last of it into her mouth. In her starved state, it tasted amazing, and she quickly finished it off, licking out the bowl to get every scrap of food. Moving on to the sliced apple, she nibbled it as slowly as she could, methodically chewing each piece as much as possible. Even now (imprisoned, routinely tortured and starved as she was), she could hear her parents lamenting her current lack of dental hygiene all the way from Australia. A few bits of old, slightly squishy apple were the closest she ever got to being able to clean her teeth. It wasn't much but it was the best she could get, so she'd take it.
Once the apple was finished, she picked up the piece of buttered bread and considered it for a moment. Why would Nott do this for her? Even when they were both at school, he'd never spoken a word to her, always in the shadows of Malfoy's entourage. He hadn't been one to laugh at Malfoy's bullying, though. He'd never called her a mudblood. She didn't understand why he would be so kind to her, unless it was all a cruel joke and she would be humiliated and made to pay for her false hope. Maybe that was all this was.
No. You can't think like that. Don't let them win.
Hermione nodded to herself. She couldn't let her own paranoia stop her from making the most of her only friend in this hell. She hoped with all her heart that Nott wouldn't get in trouble for giving her the butter. It was strange that such a small thing, something that she'd taken for granted all her life, could have the potential to destroy the only kind person she'd seen for weeks. He was probably the only one she'd ever see again. It was a terrifying thought.
To distract herself, she took a bite of the bread and savoured the salty taste of the butter while thinking about her friend, the Death Eater. Even in this place, there was someone who wouldn't torture or kill her on a whim, who would risk their own lives to make hers just that little bit better. At that moment, she felt like she could die happy, as long as Voldemort let her finish her bread before he killed her.
As soon as the plate was empty, it vanished, just like always. She'd done some experiments in the first few days of her imprisonment and found that they always disappeared if they were empty of food, if they got broken, or if they moved faster than a certain speed. That meant that she couldn't hoard the empty plates, break them to use as weapons or throw them at anyone. It was a brief disappointment at the time, but quickly forgotten as starvation began to set in and she started to associate the plates only with the much-needed food they contained. The longer she stayed, the more the idea of gaining freedom receded in likelihood (and therefore importance). She swallowed her last mouthful of bread and chased it with a large gulp of water, lamenting the end of her meal but enjoying the lingering taste of butter that stayed on her tongue. It made for a much less bland and more stimulating experience than her food usually did, that much was certain. If I ever get out of here, she resolved, I'll never take bread and butter for granted again. It'll be my favourite food.
Footsteps caught the edge of her hearing and, to her horror, she saw a light approaching from the other end of the corridor. Her heart started to race and her palms grew slick with sweat as the footsteps stopped outside her cell, their perpetrator grinning down at her with sharp yellowed teeth. She started to shake, eyes wide, as Fenrir Greyback opened the cell door and walked inside, grabbing her by the arm.
No no please I can't please don't make me-
"Time to play, sweetheart," he growled, jerking her to her feet and yanking her towards the door. The force of the yank made her bite her tongue, her mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. A distant part of her noted ruefully that the lovely taste of butter had been replaced by a much more normal flavour - normal for her life now, anyway. The cold air of the dungeon made her shake even more violently as he dragged her through the rows of cells to the stairs which led to upstairs.
Please let her kill me let it stop I don't want to please please please just let me die...
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
