Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of this story. The only thing I own is my imagination.
Summary: Set during DH so definite spoilers. What was going through Hermione's mind during the torture scene in Malfoy Manor? This story outlines what kept her going.
When all seems lost:
The words passed by in an unidentifiable blur, they didn't matter. For the first time in her life Hermione Granger believed that words held no importance, it was only the actions that held significance now. Her two best friends…no that wasn't right they were more, much more, then best friends. They had been through so much together. Seven long, frightening years had passed since they had met. Excitement and joy, bitterness and heartbreak were just some of the myriad of feelings that these two boys, her boys, had brought her over those seven years. Friendship wasn't enough to describe what she shared with both of them- the phrase "best friends" was no longer the appropriate term…Her brother and the boy she loved were being taken away from her. Screaming as they were dragged away, shutting of a light in her heart as the snarling, balding man shut them away from her.
Logically she knew she should be scared for her own life, after all it was her they were keeping. But she wasn't important. No, she wasn't as important as they were, no one was. Their safety was the only thing she could concentrate on, even as she got dragged towards the sneering Belatrix Lestrange, even as she awaited the unforgivable curse she knew was about to be sent her way. Smirking down at her with her hideous eyes cold and empty Belatrix, face alight with her manic power high, pointed her wand directly at Hermione's heart. Mistaking her wide, glassy eyes as a look of great fear Belatrix began to cackle at her apparent victim, unknowing that Hermione was far from afraid for what might happen to her. Her thoughts still firmly ticking over what horrific things could be happening to her boys, begging whoever was listening to keep them safe.
"Now, little Mudblood," Belatrix spat viciously as she circled Hermione like a vulture, "how did you and your filthy friends get this sword?"
So that's what she wants, Hermione thought to herself as she looked up at Belatrix, a sneer beginning to form on her own face as she affirmed to herself that she would never tell the truth even if…even if it lead to her death.
"Tut, tut, tut you still haven't learnt your lesson," Belatrix scolded before leaning into Hermione so that only she could hear what she was about to say next, "you'll learn your lesson you filthy mudblood, anyway no one, not even your ginger friend will care if you don't come back. Let's see if a bit of pain will loosen your tongue. CRUCIO"
A pain so intense, so scorching and…real hit Hermione the moment that small word had escaped her torturer's lips, making her wish for death, for surely death would be quicker, less painful then this. Everything was going black as a distant screaming met her ears, her own voice, shrill and oozing with pain the only thing she could hear. Her body began to writher, her limps moving in awkward directions, flailing around, but her brain, the brain that had gotten her and so many others out of trouble before, was failing her and she couldn't stop her limps from moving, couldn't halt the pain their uncoordinated dance was causing her. That's when an even more distant voice met her ears. The wonderfully cockney British voice she had grown to love, filled with its own pain, was screaming her name, he was fighting for her and the urge to fight overpowered Hermione.
The buzz that was surrounding her faded slightly and Hermione felt a suddenly felt stronger, her brain began to work again- dulling the pain that was currently overtaking her body. His laugh began to fill her ears as his face covered with that delightfully unique lopsided grin swam through her mind. No longer could did the pain feel so strong, so acute it felt more like it belonged to someone else, a dull thud that seemed slightly disconnected from her body was all the pain she could feel. Instead she felt his warm hands on her waist, an imprint from their dance. His breath on her cheek, his hands puller her closer, their bodies colliding as she sobbed into his chest was all she could feel. His voice shouted her name once more, again and again she could hear his pain, the pain she was causing through the screams she couldn't control. He was all she could think off and, slowly but surely, she felt herself separate from the torture so that she felt like she was merely watching as all the glorious memories she had shared with the red haired, blue eyed boy filtered across her mind.
Then it all stopped. The curse had been lifted and the cruel eyes of Belatrix gleamed at her once more, hope flicking across her dark, sullen eyes. She believed that she could break this Mudblood, break Harry Potter once and for all.
"Enjoy that did we mudblood?" the female Death Eater taunted, wand still pointed directly at Hermione, "now, from what I've heard you're supposed to be fairly bright so lets see if you're brain has finally told you to answer my question. How did you get this sword?" she snarled and this time Hermione willingly answered.
"It's a fake, the real ones still in your vault I…I swear," she pleaded, trying to sound believable as she allowed tears to fill her eyes. Hermione realised that if she was ever going to see Ron again, feel the warmth of his touch, hear him say her name when he wasn't yelling out in an attempt to save her, she would have to make Belatrix believe her. The crazed Death Eater merely smirked and raised her wand again,
"Liar! CRUCIO" she screeched as the pain overcame Hermione once more.
This time she was ready for the pain and her brain set to work at fighting back immediately. His voice, sounding so broken, so full of pain, screamed her name again and again, urging her to keep fighting, making her believe that she was important. That she was needed. She could remember clearly every compliment he had ever given her, even those from first year that had seemed more begrudging then anything else, as her mind quickly separated itself from the pain allowing her to fight back, almost block the spell. His voice covered her like a warm blanket, without knowing it the goofy, gangly Ron Weasley was keeping her safe, keeping her alive. All the times he made her laugh, all the times she had saved her, protected her were lighting her heart as the excruciating pain hit her once more, forcing her to emit an ear-splitting scream as her whole world began to fade once more. As a fog entered her mind and a black screen appeared to drift over her vision she heard one last scream filled with love and devotion buzz through the room before total darkness eclipsed her mind.
Author's Note: So I hope you liked this and tell me whether you think I should leave it as a one shot or not. Read and Review. Cheers!