Dramione ship.
Picks up in DH in Malfoy Manor scene… Dobby the house elf manages to save Harry Potter and his friends, but one muggle-born gets left behind.
Hermione Granger is now as the mercy of her captors, being held hostage as a slave to He Who Must Not Be Named and his followers. Life seems bleak until it seems there's someone on the inside offering help to Hermione.
Very dark! Mature themes and sexual content.
•••
Hermione let out a bloodcurdling scream. Pain coursed through her veins, her limbs contorted at broken angles, her muscles pulling tight in protest.. As the curse sent its final tremors through her body, she doubled over and tied to recover her breath. Pushing two hands down in front of her, Hermione tested the strength in her legs and rose slowly to to an unsteady position. Her lungs were screaming for air, so she relieved them with a shallow inhale. She rose her eyes to meet Yaxley's, holding her chin high and keeping her tears back.
'Hit her again', said Yaxley, his eyes not straying from his firewhisky. He swirled the cold ice around in his cup, bored by the scene playing out in front of him.
Bellatrix, on the other hand, appeared quite enthused with her task. 'CRUCIO!', she cried as an ugly and twisted smile spread across her face, her eyes wild with content as the next wave of pain crashed over Hermione.
Her knees buckled, dropping to the floor hard, her skull ricocheting of the black porcelain tile. So much for standing tall and being the stoic, silent prisoner, she thought, as a another cry and pain ripped through her throat. Bellatrix didn't seem satisfied, as she sent another curse her way.
Another wave of the curse passed through her body. Hermione's vision was white from the head impact, making everything around her glow. Her eyes drifted from the pool of blood collecting below her temple, up to the hooded figures standing above her. They weren't watching her, instead busying themselves in discrete, excited discussion. She looked past them, to the beautiful portraits hanging on the decorative walls. The only light that seemed to penetrate the dark heavy curtains covering the front bay windows shone on a tapestry that hung in the corner. A portrait, from what she could tell, of a woman. The glowing didn't seem to fade as Hermione watched the swirls of dust float through the single light beam, never seeming to find a place to settle. There were only a few others in the room besides herself. She could head snippets of their conversation over the ringing in her ears;
"...It can't be ruddy Potter down there?..."
"...The Dark Lord… we should prepare…"
"...that's the fucking mudblood on the floor there…"
Hermione thought back to how she'd gotten herself in this situation. She had been so careless to let those Snatchers find them. All of it, the secrecy, the planning, being on the run, being hunted like fugitives, was for nothing. No one knew of the intimate details of their mission. No one would be able to pick up where they left off. They had failed. How could The dark Lord be defeated, if the secrets of his horcruxes and their whereabouts died with the three of them that day. The hopelessness of the situation crashed on her, as she thought of her parents who would never know their daughter. She thought of Ginny, who would never see her brother, her best friend, or the love of her life again. Oh Ron, how he would probably be down in some cellar, listening to her screams, blaming himself. Or of Harry. Her most loyal and trusted friend. How soon would his identity be confirmed? Her thoughts were interrupted as Bellatrix violently pulled her head back, forcing her up to her knees.
Keeping a tight hold on her hair, Bellatrix leaned in close to Hermione, the stench of her breath smothering the air around her.
"Tell me again, where did you get it?", she whispered sweetly. Hermione stole a shaky breath, and tried to keep her voice steady as she replied.
'' It's as I said before, we- AGH", Hermione's argument was silenced by a tug to her head, as she was dragged onto her back by Bellatrix.
" LIES, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD'.
CRACK. The backhanded blow came so quickly, Hermione wasn't given time to flinch.
Yaxley cut in, his forefinger and thumb pressed firmly to the bridge of his nose, face scrunched up in discomfort as he spoke in his monotone voice, "Really Bellatrix, is all this noise necessary".
Bellatrix's gaze snapped up to meet Yaxleys lazy gaze, "This will be as much your fault, as it is mine", she replied slowly, filling her words with venomous intent.
A silence descended on the few who remained in the room. Yaxley stood and looked about the room, "Out.", her ordered quietly. Some hesitated to move, surprised by his words. "Now!", he cried, as he waved his wand, flinging open the doors to the neighbouring parlour room, where a fire gate open to the floo network stood.
Many moved towards the door, quickly following Yaxley's orders. "And you, Lucius?"
One of the more bent, and less-regal looking figures in a black cloak paused and turned slightly, revealing some strands of fine, platinum hair. "Simply seeing off our visitors, Yaxley", he said, with a small, wavering voice.
"Not necessary. You should bring down Narcissa", Yaxley continued. "This concerns your family too".
"I don't see how they're involved". Lucius retorted, not taking a step closer into the room, still hovering by the doorway.
"But is this not your house, Lucius? Are we not your guests? I want the Dark Lord to be called at once. Even if the Dursley boy downstairs isn't Potter, he'll be pleased with our newest addition." he curtly nodded in the direction of Hermione's limp outline. "Perhaps you should call for your family Lucius.", he said again, in a cold, hard voice.
Lucius took a step forwards, moving towards the grand staircase at the opposite side of the room.
"Have Narcissa send for the prisoners, I want Draco to take another look at Potter." Yaxley continued.
Lucius paused, taken back, "You really believe it to be him?".
Yaxley gave Lucius a small, calculating smile, "For your family's sake, you should hope so. It would please The Dark Lord to hear of your involvement. It is time the Malfoy's weaseled their way back into his good graces".
•••
Deep underneath the Malfoy Mansion, in the cold dark cellars, Harry sat with his back to wet cement wall. He looked around at the grim scene before him. Luna, dressed in filthy rags, shivering, while cradling Mr. Ollivander's head in her lap. Harry studied the man's pale and cracked face. He had been asleep for sometime now- Hermione's screams echoing through their cell hadn't even caused him to stir. He was exhausted, and sickly. He would not live much longer here. Harry reached his fingers up to his own face, and felt that most of the swelling from Hermione's well-timed stinging spell had worn off.
CRACK!
Harry jumped up at the noise, pushing his glasses closer to his face, squinting out into the low-lit cavernous prison. He looked down to his left, where Ron sat huddled next to luna, sharing the light from the deluminator. Ron's eyes met his, confusion etched into his face. Harry stepped forward, not quite making out the silhouette, when a sudden high pitched voice cut through the darkness, "Mr. Potter! Dobby has come to save you!"
A slow grin seemed to take over Harry's face, as Dobby the House Elf, wearing a pair of mismatched socks, stepped into the light.
•••
Hermione felt as though her arm was on fire. She could feel every detail of the engraving being carved into her skin. Her mouth was stretched wide, her throat open and sore. She could feel the air passing through her lips, but no sound would emit. The only noise that disrupted the silence was the scratching of her feet along the floor and she struggled through the pain, and the small fits of laughter coming from bellatrix, as she went about her work.
"I must admit, I do prefer the beauty of one's agony when they're not making such a god damned racket.", said Yaxley, as he peered over at Hermione's twisting limbs. As Hermione's cries began to sound again, however softly, Yaxley pulled out his wand and repeated the spell, "Silencio".
"Look!", Bellatrix lept off of Hermione in delight, walking over to Yaxley and taking the handkerchief he had in hand, to wipe off the flecks of blood covering her wand. "Now that's definitely some of my best work." she added in an hushed undertone, smiling.
Hermione tilted her head to the side, examining the outstretched arm, reading the words that would forever leave a mark on her flesh. Mudblood. She closed her eyes then, as she saved her strength and lay still, focusing on her shallow breath.
Inhale. There was no way out of this. Hermione was to die; when was the only unknown. Exhale. Hermione could hear the sounds from the cellar pick up, doors were being opened and slammed shut. Inhale. Lucius descended the staircase, his wife in tow. Exhale. The noises were getting noticeably louder, there were voices now too. Bellatrix moved closer, Yaxley rose from his chair. Exhale. Nothing. Inhale. Silence. Exhale. All hell broke loose.
Hermione pushed herself up onto her forearms as Harry and Ron barged to the top the stairs, firing hexes any way their wands pointed. "Stupefy!", cried Ron, throwing the curse at Yaxley. "Expelliarmus!", cried Harry, snatching Bellatrix's wand from her hand. Unfortunately, Lucius lept into action, throwing shields up and attacking with matched vigour. There were flashes of light being cascaded over the backs of Hermione's eyelids, and she was pulled to her feet quite suddenly and was thrown onto the plush sofa, a knife at her throat.
"ENOUGH!", cried Bellatrix.
At once everyone turned to the sound of the voice emanating from being Hermione. "Why don't we put out wants down now. Savvy?", spoke Bellatrix, a smile in her voice. Ron and Harry looked to each other, unsure. Bellatrix only pushed deeper into Hermione's neck, allowing blood to seep out across her knife. The clatter of wood hitting the floor, broke the little hope that had dared to build in Hermione's chest. Just then, Bellatrix used a voice that resembled some form of twisted affection, as she addressed the newest addition to the room, "Draco. How nice of you to join us."
Hermione looked up to the grand staircase where Draco Malfoy stood paused, his hand resting lightly on the white bannister. He was taller than she remembered, and thin. His white hair was no longer gelled back, instead left uncut with slight wisps falling across his face. A face that had brought her so much torment and hate in years previous. But now, she tried searching his face for a sign of recognition, one of understanding. She searched for some memory of the boy they had gone to school with for six years. What she found was to be expected, an arrogant, lopsided smirk settled on his face as he looked over the scene below him.
And then came his smooth, drawling voice, "Aunt Bella, what kind of trouble have we stirred up here?".
"Call The Dark Lord, Draco. It is time. Harry Potter is alive- though not for much longer. And in our presence! We must celebrate by our leaders side. Call him Draco.'
At this Malfoy paused for a fraction of a second, clearly not pleased with receiving orders from his aunt. He recovered smoothly, placing another crooked smile onto his face as he pushed back his sleeve and pressed upon something on his arm, unseen from Hermione's angle.
CRACK!
Dobby appeared on the scene, snapping his fingers, drawing wands from Narcissa's and Lucius's outstretched hands. With another deafening CRACK!, Dobbie had Harry and Ron's wands in back in hand and he stood between them, one hand on either of their pant legs. Hermione sat, knife still at her throat, eyes pleading to Harry. But she knew it was no use. Voldemort had already learned of his presence, and would soon be on his way. Harry had to escape, and this was his opportunity. Dobby would have to come back for her.
Just then, the pressure of the knife again her neck was lifted as Bellatrix drew back her arm, and spun the weapon forward, sending into the house elf's chest.
CRACK! Dobby, Harry, and Ron were gone. Bellatrix let out a cackle of delight.
The boys had gone, but so was her knife, embedded into the chest of a House Elf with mismatched socks. Hermione felt her eyes brim with tears, but she was careful not to let them spill over. She wiped her eyes, mourning the elf who had saved her friends. Then she mourned for her own fate, as she knew; no one would be coming back for her.
•••
End of chapter 1. Please review, I love the feedback, good or bad.