CHAPTER 1
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
She was cackling again. A loud bark-like laugh that ended in a high-pitched note that rattled around her skull, intensifying her already throbbing head. The cackling was the worst, she thought as she was jerked back onto her knees by her hair, a cursed blade thrust under her neck. She could sense it slice through the thin barrier of her delicate skin and feel the insidious slick sensation of blood running in rivulets down the column of her throat. Her vision was blurry from tears and months of inadequate nourishment but she could still see him, standing in the darkest corner of the room, clothed in the shadows.
His pale and angular face was a study in blankness but his very presence belied his emotions. He was always there, every day, every time Bellatrix decided to take out her frustrations on the resident mudblood. He refused to look away when she was tortured. When her throat had become raw from screaming and pleading that was always ignored. Unheard. As if he actually cared whether she died with no familiar face around. Surrounded by leering faces that capered and sneered at her and at the mercy of a deranged Azkaban escapee with a particular affinity for the Cruciatus curse. He had quick become the only reason to hold on to her sanity. Draco Lucius Malfoy, the one to keep her somewhat coherent. Oh, the irony!
Hermione Granger had no recollection anymore of just how much time had passed since she'd been snatched and forcibly brought to Malfoy Manor. Her only comforting thought these days was that Harry and Ron were safe. They had gotten away. She was the insignificant one. Her best friends were the people who would put an end to this godforsaken war; the Chosen One and his loyal and courageous friend.
"Where's Potter, you dirty little mudblood? Tell me where he's hiding or I'll carve up your other arm too and give you a matching pair!", Bellatrix breathed in her ear in a cajoling tone completely at odds with the fist currently wrenching her head back and the dagger at her throat. Her breath smelled stale and sickeningly sweet at the same time and Hermione was overcome with the need to violently empty her stomach. She could already taste the acidic tang of vomit at the back of her throat and she prayed that she didn't retch.
Bellatrix abruptly released her then and Hermione sprawled face first on the marble floor as her knees crumbled from her weight. She felt tears slide out of her closed eyelids just as the certifiable lunatic uttered the Cruciatus curse, a delightful satisfaction evident in her voice as she said "crucio" and fully meant it.
Hermione started violently spasming on the ground, her mouth torn wide to let out ragged scream after ragged scream and her fists clenching and unclenching of their own volition. It felt like fire was coursing through her blood, like being burned alive. She'd have thought that the pain would lessen after having been under the receiving end of that very curse on a regular basis. Showed what she knew, she thought as tears leaked incessantly out of her eyes and her raw and anguished yells echoed around the opulent drawing room that had become her torture chambers recently. She knew no past or future, had no thought except for the burning agony of the present that seemed never ending and then when she could take it no more, the brightest witch of her age lost consciousness, her body still spasming convulsively from the after-effects of the curse.
A/N: So, I've been reading fanfiction for ages now and it's only now that I've decided to venture into actually writing one...I hope this first chapter didn't suck too much and I know that it's a bit short but this was really just an introduction and I promise the story is not as angsty as it looks like. There's time travel involved and a whole lot of other complicated tosh and I hope that you readers will enjoy :)