FFS. This was supposed to be PWP but apparently my mind was not ready to write smut so here we are, a prologue. Also, no smut yet. :P
Disclaimer. I do not own Harry Potter.
Warnings. Non-con/Dub-con, Public humiliation, Public Sex, Multiple Partners, Slavery. List may expand.
Pairings. DM/HG; NM/HG; BL/HG; LM/HG; DM/HG/BZ; DM/GW/HG; BZ/GW; LM/GW; BZ/GW/DM; GG/LL/VC; LB/VariousDE. More to follow, probably.
It had been 219 days.
Hermione Granger had counted. Hermione Granger's mind had never stopped counting.
They said that without seeing the light of day, one will lose the ability to sense time. How much has passed... How long has it been?
The prisoners were not forgotten. Oh no. Not one bit. The Elves had a specific directive about that too: Give them food, keep them alive. Send the food erratically, without a pattern. Drive them wild, make them lose their mind.
The Dark Lord had given the order with a slight smile. His followers tittered and chuckled at the idea.
"Separate the women from the men. The prominent Phoenix Members, put each of them in a cell without windows. We'll deal with them later."
Later.
Voldemort had set them aside like a child's toys after playtime.
Small insignificant playthings they are. Prisoners of the war. Locked in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, behind a large iron clad door.
So, due to that an occasional elf will pop in with food and splash them with water.
Ginevra Weasley had gone a bit mad. Her mind couldn't take the pressure. Always crying, always whining.
The first time an elf had come she tried to talk to it for help but it didn't even spare her a glance before it popped away again, leaving her still imprisoned.
"Why are they doing this? I can't take it anymore! What time? What's the time?! Time!"
She would shout and pace her cell, her voice echoing in the silence that usually permeates the air.
Luna Lovegood usually would answer Ginny's echoing shouts in a serene, calm voice. "Why does it matter? You're alive Ginny. I don't think it's been a hundred years..."
Ginny would shout her frustration, then.
Lavender Brown didn't even care. She didn't bother to be bothered by the incessant thing called time. As long as she's alive... She would think. She agrees wholly with Luna. "Why does it matter?" She'd mutter quietly.
It matters. Or it matters to Hermione Granger.
People thought she was the first one to break as she sat at one corner of her cell with her hand at her chest constantly tapping, never stopping.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She goes.
She counts every second with the beat of her heart.
The elves were just her marker not to lose count. Her mind had never stopped working.
"I know Ginny! I know how long! I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know..."
And her mind is once again lost to the beat... To the count...
She never got to answer Ginny out loud.
The day Dolores Umbridge held the key to the lock of their confinement Ginevra Weasley went feral, reaching out to the woman through the bars, scratching... biting...
She was stunned with a short and sweet stupefy and was dragged out. Luna Lovegood gathered her in her arms as she was led out from her cell. Lavender Brown walked out with a smile.
Umbridge approved, patting Lavender's head as you would a dog.
The moment the door opened Hermione Granger muttered her first words in a long while.
"219 days. 9 hours. 27 minutes. 5 seconds. Well, 8 seconds now."