A/N: Hey people,
Firstly, I want to welcome you to my new story and it is the first story I have ever posted on here so I'm very worried. I have written stories before, but I want everyone to like this one.
My goal is to make it believable, entertaining, and I want it to be dark. You can't have a story with Voldemort/Tom Riddle and not expect it to be dark.
I don't know how well I'm going to reach these goals but if everyone could comment how they liked it and polite criticism is very much appreciated. If I have too much detail or too little or if its confusing let me know.
Secondly, I plan to update this! I have wanted to write this story forever and I just now felt some inspiration, but I have an incredibly busy life so don't always expect something every month
Lastly, I'm an American trying to write a story that was originally written by a British author so there's bound to be many differences in language and diction, but ill try my best to not screw it up.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original plot and characters, everything else belongs to the great J.K. Rowling.
Thank you for listening to my rambling!
"A painter should begin every canvas with a wash of black, because all things in nature are dark except where exposed by the light."
— Leonardo da Vinci
The pain was unbearable.
She just wanted...
For it to stop.
For it all to be over.
For an end.
"CRUCIO!"
The shattering noise inside her skull rattled violently around her head, and she felt as though her brain was being pounded and pinched into a tiny ball. Her dry throat was scratchy as she screamed, powerless to stop, without lack of trying. Unfortunately, when being Crucio'd to a certain degree there's no control over your screams.
They just happen.
Her limbs twitched uncontrollably, she felt nerves sizzle and pop, bones bend, joints twist in ways they shouldn't, invisible irons singed skin, and something chewed unnaturally at her muscles.
"How did you get into my vault?" A callous voice screeched into her ear.
Her insides felt like they were being twisted, swished around throughout her body, and beaten repeatedly. There was a lack of oxygen in her lungs and she gasped, desperate to quench the burning need festering there for air.
"How did you know it was in there? Answer me!" Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, scratchy and unrelenting.
Her spine and neck felt like they were being continually distorted, snapped, and crushed under the pressure that seemed to come from all directions. Her body unconsciously withered and arched, searching for a position that might alleviate the pain in any way possible.
"What else did you take? What else! ANSWER ME!" The voice threatened through the drumming in her ears.
There was an itchy, clawing, that stabbed all over her body and she scratched and rubbed fiercely, trying to alleviate the invisible knives from her body, as she shook and convulsed on the floor.
"How did you get in there?"
And she screamed.
Oh, how she screamed.
The Trio had been doing fairly well with their hunt for Horcruxes, and they even ushered the information they wanted out of Luna Lovegood's father about the Deathly Hallows. They knew what Voldemort was after, now, giving them a one-up.
But then the snatchers had caught them when Harry had let slip on the Tabooed word. When one of the snatchers had seen the defining mark on Harry's forehead, they were transported to the Malfoy's residence. Then Bellatrix had seen the sword of Gryffindor, which one of the snatchers had found in their tent, she had become irate, and left wanting an explanation. Bellatrix had chosen, purely based on blood status, Hermione, to question in the utmost violent ways.
Hermione had no idea if the boys had a plan or not or even where they were currently located in the Malfoy Manor, and honestly, she didn't care what was happening to them right now.
She just wanted the pain to stop.
She couldn't focus, her mind was a scattered jumble, and her vision jumped between double vision and a constant spinning.
The continuous beating of fists in her body and the slicing and piercing in her limbs continued.
Bellatrix cackled evilly and danced around her flailing body, keeping her wand trained on the girl as the screeches fueled her onward. For Bellatrix, this entertainment at its finest. Torturing Mudbloods and Blood-traitors had always been her favorite part of her position in the Dark Lord's ranks, and found the screams of her victims as , Draco and Narcissia Malfoy watched off to the side of the room, attempting to ignore the evil activities taking place, as they waited for the teen's resolve to break and for the information to come pouring out. Lucius had grown impatient and was beyond excited to call the Dark Lord to come destroy the boy and to once again regain his good position.
"Really, Bella, would it not be beneficial to see if the girl has some information to give before you kill her?" The eldest blonde drawled over the screeches, secretly wishing to preserve what was left of his hearing.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes and lazily discontinued the curse.
Hermione Granger gasped wildly, body still twitching from the after-shock of the pain. Overpowering tears came more forcefully than when the curse was taking place, and sobs racked her body along with occasional spasms.
For the first time in her life she wanted to praise Lucius Malfoy and his existence.
"You, my dear Lucius, are too anxious to regain your position in my Master's good graces." She sauntered over to his tired looking form, and circled him, tracing his jaw with the tip of her wand, lazily, as she spoke in her twisted, gleeful, giggles.
He seemed to huff out his annoyance, and Bellatrix ignored him, instead prancing back over to the sobbing girl.
Hermione was still on the floor silent tears pouring from her terribly bruised and bloodied face. Her arm carved and engraved, with the permanent reminder of what she was, a Mudblood.
That had been the first thing Bellatrix had done to her; carve the disgusting foul word into her arm. After what had felt like an eternity of constant torture curses- Hermione could swear she had built up an immunity to them- she had finally been given a moment to try and survive.
She couldn't look at the disgusting and foul word that would never heal.
The words that would never go away.
Tremors and twitches still rocked her body, but she remained dead on the floor, trying to regain her strength, trying not to break.
She didn't want to crack.
She didn't want to give up hope.
Because when she gave up hope of winning, she also gave up hope of living.
But it hurt so much to try.
But she would do it for Harry.
For Ron.
Hermione had always considered herself more resilient and braver than most girls her age, having spent most her life around a boy who was a magnet for dangerous situations. She did not regard herself this way out of conceitedness, she only recognized that many other girls, such as Lavender Brown, and even girls from her own house, who were well known for being brave, could never cope or even stay sane with Harry as a best friend. From being petrified in her second year to facing deranged Death Eaters in her fifth in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries to being on the run from Voldemort for almost a year, and everything else these past crazy years have had to offer. Being friends with Harry was a huge burden on her mind and body, constantly pushed to her emotional and physical breaking point. However, she had never seen it that way, and she was sure she never could. She would go to the ends of earth and back for Harry, she would die for him, and she had no doubt he would do the same for her.
But as she silently shuttered and sobbed she couldn't come up with a single reason why she would ever suffer anything so horrendous for anyone.
Bellatrix stalked over to where the girl laid, and Hermione, despite her body's protest, tried to scramble up and, unsuccessfully, tried dodging the witch. Before she could even fully had a chance to sit up, she was groaning and on her back from a very painful kick to the stomach.
"Come on you little bitch,", the nutty woman spat teasingly, "Sit up in the presences of your superiors, Mudblood!", and she laughed when she saw Hermione wince away from the terrible word. Hermione could only wonder how such a deranged witch could be in such high ranks with Voldemort.
When Hermione didn't move the deranged witch gave a squeal of delight, before grabbing a fist full of curly and bloody hair before yanking the girl onto her knees, while prompting a scream from the girl.
"Now tell me, girl!" Bellatrix crouched dangerously over the girl and shouted evilly into her ear, "How did you get into my vault? How did you know the Sword of Gryffindor was in there?"
Hermione shook her head only wanting her hair to be released from Bellatrix's painful hold. Her back ached from the position she was situated in and was fairly certain that her limbs wouldn't hold her up much longer. The psychotic witch smiled and tightened her hold on the younger witch's hair, yanked more forcefully until the girl was sobbing again.
"You little piece of shit! Tell me now!" The woman screeched.
"W-w-e did-dn't take-"
"Lies!"
Bellatrix shoved the girl away with a thud, causing Hermione to give a shout of pain, before circling around her to her right hand which was splayed out in front of her.
Hermione whimpered, praying if she stayed still Bellatrix might become bored and leave her alone.
But the unstable woman did not give up so easily.
Then suddenly, Hermione's hand was scorching and she tried to yank it away from whatever was putting pressure on it, but it wouldn't budge. She felt it crack several times as the weight twisted violently on her hand. She looked over, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice begging for the pain to stop, and sickly saw Bellatrix's heel of her boot dug deeply into her hand. She yanked violently at her hand, searching for release, but it only ended up hurting more to pull at it.
She was oblivious to Bellatrix screeching into her ear, and her voice begging for mercy.
Suddenly Bellatrix's weight was gone and Hermione sobbed as she took her broken hand and cradled it in her body.
"Get me the Goblin!", She screeched.
She took a jagged breath before hesitantly glancing at her was obvious her hand was broken in several place, and blood was starting to steadily flow out of the broken skin. She faintly heard something being dragged up the stairs. Hermione could feel herself becoming wobbly and drifting in and out of conciseness, and became dizzyingly aware that there was another conversation going on somewhere in the room.
"Tell me! How did those traitors get into my vault!"
There was more rumbling of conversation, and Hermione realized she had never seen a ceiling spin in such a way. It swayed and wobbled around and she felt as though eyes were going in different directions
"-obviously fake. Yes, this is most definitely a copy." She heard the goblin wheeze out.
"Are you sure?" Bellatrix asked hopefully "Quite sure?"
"Yes."
She heard gleeful cackling from Bellatrix as she tried to order her thoughts in an appropriate manner.
"Ah, good." Bellatrix giggled in a relieved tone.
She dismissed the Goblin and merrily spun towards the Malfoys.
"And now," she said in a triumphant voice, "we call the Dark Lord!"
Hermione's heart lurched as she saw Bellatrix pull back her sleeve and touch the Dark Mark tattooed to her skin.
Hermione felt a sudden rage and disgust pulse through her for Voldemort, stronger than she ever thought possible, as she began to tremble with not only pain but anger as well. She had never felt such pure loathing bubble up in her before.
He had caused all of it. All the times someone had called her a Mudblood or treated her different because of her blood status. The pain her friends and family endured and the pain she had suffered, it was all him.
Harry's parent's, her parent's memory, and the lives of so many, like Mad-Eye, Sirius, and Dumbledore, were all because of him. All the good things in their lives had been destroyed by him.
Hermione grunted as her body tremored again, losing her angering thoughts, and making Bellatrix spin her attention back to her.
"Oh, you." She said disgustedly as she looked upon the bloodied and bruised mess twitching on the floor."I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Grayback, take her if you want her." She said to one of the greedy looking snatchers that were still standing in the corner of the room. He took a step forward to claim his prize before he was interrupted.
A red haired explosion took place at the other end of the room rocketing everyone into a battle position except for Hermione.
"Expelliarmus!" Ron screamed.
Suddenly everything happened very quickly.
Harry, Ron, and Dobby were across the room yelling.
Bellatrix and Draco were disarmed.
Bellatrix leapt for Hermione, but she had gained enough strength and was able to scramble to the edge of the room underneath the big stain glass windows, still clutching her broken hand to her chest, and out of reach of Bellatrix. Then, the chandelier fell from the high ceiling and almost crushed a murderous Bellatrix and prevented her from making another attempt for the struggling girl. Bellatrix screeched as she dove away from Hermione and the falling chandelier. Curses were being thrown by everyone who had wands and there was pure confusion.
"HERMIONE!"
Her head vision snapped in the direction of her name and when she found them her heart dropped.
The boys and Dobby were waiting for her at the other end of the room.
Honestly, how stupid could they get!
They needed to leave before they got killed.
Never mind her, she could deal with herself, and they only needed to save themselves. The selfish feelings from when she was under the Crucio had dissipated, and she was once again the selfless Hermione that would die for the boys she loved.
The desperateness she felt pooled inside her frightened her, but not as much as the idea of her friends dying because she couldn't physically make it across the room without getting hit by a curse. She honestly did not think she could even make it across the room without collapsing.
But she had to try.
She knew her boys better than anyone, and they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
She stumbled onto her shaky legs and began to move along the wall, using only her good hand. The other Death Eaters were too transfixed on the escapees to notice her, she only had to move slowly along the wall and dodge any obscure spells. One caught a little too close to the wall next to her and she lost her balance dodging it and landed on her tailbone with a thump.
Then, like most of the trio's experiences, everything got worse.
A tunnel of dark smoke broke through one of the windows and rained down jagged pieces of glass on Hermione. She folded into herself trying to protect as much as she could from the jagged glass pouring down. she felt a few pieces scratch her unclothed skin giving her more nicks and cuts. She could only look up in horror when she realized who was now making their grand appearance of the night. The dark tunnel of smoke swirled around the dark, large, room before landing in the center with a thunderous clap on the marble dark long robes swished from the wind now coming through the very open window, and the pale skin was unscathed from the window's sharp pieces.
Surprisingly, to Hermione, he was barefoot, and his long toes matched his extraordinarily long fingers.
It was a funny thing to regard, but Hermione couldn't help but notice such trivial things sometimes.
Her vision snapped up from his feet as he made a sudden movement with his arm bringing his wand up readily.
Voldemort quickly had his wand and eyes trained on Harry.
Hermione snapped her vision to her best friends.
They were exchanging curses with Death Eaters who were quickly outnumbering the three of boys were refusing to leave without her risking their own lives.
She knew she wouldn't be able to get to them in time before Voldemort got his chance.
They needed to leave before they got killed.
"HARRY! GO!"
At the sound of her voice, red serpent eyes snapped in her direction. With his sharp gaze on her she realized how much closer he had landed to her than before. He looked like death itself with his gray and veiny skin and Hermione unmistakably saw a deep frown on his face replace smirk that had been placed there only moments ago.
Something in his look scared her, the intense way his eyes raked over her figure, and when his eyes once again reached hers, she was visibly shaking, and not just from the pain she was still experiencing.
Quicker than she had ever seen a spell produced before, he flicked his wrist in an unidentifiable pattern, and the last thing Hermione heard before being enveloped by a green light was someone screaming her name.
Then the pain stopped.
A/N: Okay so.. Thank you and let me know what you thought!