Chapter 1 Nothing but Torture
Hermione screamed.
This would be it; her last day on this earth.
Bellatrix held nothing back as she tortured her. All Hermione could feel was pain, there was nothing else.
She was tied up in a chair in an empty room at Malfoy manor. Alone. Her screams echoed all across the long hallways, the huge rooms and doorways, it seemed to go on forever. In her head it seemed alive, ever growing and festering. She could barely remember the sound of anything else. She screamed until her throat dried up, after which breathing became difficult.
No one would come save her here; no one knew how to find her or where she was. She had sacrificed herself and gotten caught so her friends wouldn't. And now she was being tortured with the cruciators curse by the one woman who she despised most. The pain was searing, marring her bones. Her body felt limp and lifeless, she couldn't notice when Bellatrix stopped. There really wasn't any difference. The pain kept going on and on… Hermione lay limp and still in her chair, certain of her death. There were no sounds but the ringing of her ears from her own screams, therefore she couldn't even be sure if she was still screaming. The numbness in her whole body, was she even still in it? Was she still in that room? She couldn't know… she believed herself to be dead… or at least on the verge of dying. If this is what people feared when they thought about death, then Hermione could understand that fear. She had never been afraid of dying, she had been afraid of losing the people around her and them losing her. She had never seen herself as a selfish person, but at that moment, and many before, she had wished someone else to be in her shoes. Truly, she never would wish this pain on anyone else, and would gladly want this curse to never exist. However, as the situation unfold itself in front of her, she came to the conclusion that someone else would be tortured here even if she had been captured or not. Only at her darkest, most desperate did she wish to switch places with someone else.
The world had no substance anymore, there was no reality or fiction, there was just grey, everything felt grey. The walls and ceiling were colourless, the silence dull to her maimed ears, her own beating heart felt as if it would give up any second. Life seemed hardly worth it to Hermione… why was she alive anyway? What was the point? She could come to terms with her own death, as long as no one would figure out what the boys were up to, that was all that mattered.
Suddenly she felt, a gurgle escaped her dry and cracked throat as she was overcome by sadness, there was wetness leaking down her swollen cheek, mixing with blood as it dripped down her throat and fell down her chin. People talked about rock bottom, but really this was hell, Hermione was already in hell and she wasn't even dead yet. She suspected it would happen soon, at least she hoped it would be soon.
The door of the chamber creaked slightly as it was opened. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed slowly without a sound. Her stomach clenched into knots of worry and her heart started pounding in her chest as she readied herself for a new wave of torture. This time, however, the door was closed again and Hermione could hear someone muttering. Although discerning the words turned out to be too difficult for her strained ears.
Why wasn't anything happening? The waiting made it worse, her already aching ribs felt ready to break under the pressure of her heavily beating heart. Didn't Bellatrix usually start with some taunt or other? What was taking so long? Something touched her arm and she involuntarily flinched. Her breathing now echoed along the walls, there was no use in being quiet anymore was there? She was probably standing there staring at her and enjoying watching her squirm, this was probably her plan, to have some fun with the mudblood before crushing her like a bug.
Hermione felt a wave of magic sweep over her and she squirmed, knowing what would come next. But it didn't. Then she gasped as she felt warmth over her left leg moving up to her ribcage. Then a very stinky smell hit her nostrils, it reminded Hermione of that one time she had come into Ron's room and looked in his quidditch bag, she had accidentally stumbled upon a dirty sock. Whatever this was, it reeked. Warmth engulfed her chin as someone grabbed it, this made Hermione panic. She strained against her bonds, but it was pointless. She clenched her jaw and bit down as hard as she could, so hard her gums started to hurt. There was some struggling, but her opponent was stronger and got her to open. Liquid was poured into her mouth and a hand then clasped over to keep her from spitting it out. She writhed more, the liquid, whatever it was, tasted so horrible she felt she would puke. Keeping it in her mouth for much longer would make everything worse so she was forced to swallow. After which she was let go. She coughed and coughed, trying to get the taste out.
"It's better if you don't struggle."
Hermione couldn't help but let out a frustrated and slightly amused scoff. She swallowed a second time, her throat now slightly more lubricated after the liquid, and spoke with a very raspy voice. "What's the fun in that?" She felt her limbs start to shake, which hurt even more, she groaned. Were they really going to poison her, after all that? Then a horrified thought occurred to Hermione, she didn't know what veritaserum tasted like, maybe they were going to simply ask the truth out of her. She wouldn't be surprised if You-Know-Who would have that potion at his disposal. But would it hurt? She couldn't remember what she had read on the potion, but this hurt a lot. It was almost like acid moving through her whole body, surging in her veins. Although it wasn't as bad as the torture earlier it still stung and she felt as though she were on fire. Tears once again blurred her vision as she forced her eyes to open.
The voice had obviously been male, so this wasn't Bellatrix. Maybe some henchman sent here to finish the job in secret. Maybe she wasn't worth anything to them anymore, perhaps they had gotten the information they needed from someone else, or simply assumed there was no more information to have. Whether it had been veritaserum or some poison, did it matter to Hermione? Yes, it mattered because she wanted to live, she wanted to fight. Giving up had never ever been an option for her and this wasn't going to be an exception. So she just had to pull herself up, get some of that old Gryffindor courage and fight.
She felt stronger, more capable. Her throat felt better and it was easier to breathe, as if her ribcage felt her expanding courage and drive and thrived from it. She also noticed that she was no longer numb, but could feel her limbs again and body completely, there was no pain anymore just determination.
"What did you give me?" Hermione blinked a few times, the blurriness going away slowly. She tried to peer into the dark and look around to see her enemy, but as her vision was clearing up, she saw the door close as the mysterious man left. Taking a deep breath Hermione wondered for a moment why she felt better, because it couldn't just have been her will to live that sparked such a miraculous recovery. Perhaps… and this was a pretty big long-shot, but maybe someone had just helped her? She hardly dared think it, but as she looked down at herself she saw that the dried blood on her ripped jeans held no wounds beneath them anymore, and though the bonds still stung her and hurt the bruises had faded almost completely. She could only come to one conclusion: someone at Malfoy Manor had healed her. Whether it was to help her or to simply keep her alive longer for more torture would remain a mystery until later. The latter seemed more likely to Hermione.
The next day wasn't much better. "Where are they?!" Bellatrix screeched. The pain kept coming over and over again in waves as Hermione was tortured. She would never give in; never sell out her friends. But even she didn't know where they were right at this moment, and she couldn't think straight either as the next wave of the curse hit her. The pain was horrible and she wished she were numb from it all. This time was different, she had been healed the night before and it almost seemed like Bellatrix were punishing her even more for that, it looked like she was going to kill her. Or rather, to Hermione, she felt that it would. The pain being too great to handle, Hermione finally lost consciousness and Bellatrix lost her interest.
Hermione awoke to unfamiliar sounds. Someone was shaking her, albeit lightly and trying to wake her. She knew that a lot of exposure to the torture curse could result in handicap, memory loss or worse. Maybe she had already lost her mind. Maybe she was imagining the figure in front of her. Maybe… just maybe, she was already dead and safe from this wretched war and it was her mother greeting her at the gates of heaven.
"For fuck's sake, wake up!" said a frustrated voice in front of her; seeping through her numb ears. This obviously wasn't her mother, nor was it Ron or Harry, they wouldn't curse like that, at least not directed at her.
"Huh?" she managed to mumble, feeling weaker than ever, not even able to lift her head let alone talk.
"Finally." He said with slight exasperation. Hermione found all of this very confusing. Who was this? Where was she? What was happening?
"What?" She took a breath, and again felt the strange sensation of her ribs actually expanding and allowing her to breathe without pain. She had been healed again. "Why… why are you healing me?" She coughed and tried to blink, however she felt so exhausted, so tired that she could hardly lift her head.
"I'd rather not have your death on my conscience. And I don't want your dirty blood all over my floor either, Mudblood." Those were his parting words and the last thing she heard was the harsh shut of the door. The sound echoed off the empty walls in the room and did little for her headache and achingly sensitive ears.
"I…" She sighed, what was going on? How long would this go on for? What he said made no sense to her, if he was a Death Eater, wouldn't he be glad that she was being tortured and would be killed? Would he even have a conscience?
*
Hermione hadn't eaten proper food in four days, or more, and was starving. She had been tied to this damned chair the whole time, house-elves coming in only to let her out when she needed to relieve herself. It did little to help her though, she felt horrid being there. It wasn't until her fifth day of torture when something strange and unbelievable happened. She was fighting hard to keep consciousness after questioning by Bellatrix and Lucius, when someone entered the room she was kept in. She couldn't fathom what was happening when she felt her bonds slackening. Someone had released her from her chair. A flicker of hope ignited in her heart. Had Harry or Ron finally found her? Were they rescuing her? This person picked her up from the chair. She hadn't stood in five days and couldn't possibly put weight on her shaky and limp legs.
Her saviour steadied her with strong hands, picking her up and holding her out of the room. But it was weird; this didn't feel like Harry or Ron at all. Being in this man's arms felt good, but she didn't know who it was and that scared her slightly. Where were they going? Where was he taking her? Why did he untie her? All of these questions flickered in her mind as they moved. Was he going to hurt her? Was this one of the death eaters? Panic flickered in her chest, but then she wondered if she was dreaming. This couldn't actually be happening in real life, because realistically no one would know where she was, no one would know where to go to save her. None of this made sense. The man stopped and moved into the shadows whilst two others walked past. She couldn't see them, she couldn't even open her eyes, but she heard them talking as they approached and walked away and the man that held her went forward again.
She wasn't sure if she could trust him, but she was too weak to do anything. She wouldn't be able to fight him or run away. She would hardly even be able to push against him. So she simply leaned against him, at least she could feel almost okay in his arms. She didn't want to think about anything, because if she did she would worry about what would happen. Although, just thinking about that got the ball rolling. This man could be a rapist. That was the only thing they hadn't done yet, or at least that she could think of.
He was warm, which felt good. She had been locked in a room with no heating at all and she felt as cold as an icicle. She could feel him take a deep breath as if this was hard. Couldn't be that hard, she shouldn't have been very heavy, she hadn't eaten for days and before that... well traveling with Harry and Ron with not a lot of food to come by was not exactly a walk in the park.
He walked with her in his arms to another room; this one was darker than the one she had been tied up in. She could feel him lowering her and she panicked. Was he about to let her go? Let her fall? She didn't want to be left alone in complete and total darkness. As far as she could tell there were no windows here. She might not feel safe at all but his arms were as good as it got for those few minutes. Truly she knew she couldn't trust this person, but she longed to, she longed to have someone to trust, to have someone who would save her from this wretched hell.
"Relax." He whispered in her ear, barely audible. She didn't recognise the voice, but she found herself relax at his wish. However it was short lived as he put her down on a soft surface, by the touch she realised it was a bed. Panic stole her features for a third time as the worst ideas flickered through her head. This is how it would happen, she knew it would kill her, mentally as much as physically to be raped. However nothing happened for a little while and then a duvet was draped over her and she let out a shaky sigh. However, still not convinced that she was safe or actually being helped, she hardly dared speak and what came out was not much more than a whisper. "What's happening?"
"Sleep"
That was all the answer she got, she then heard him leave and without much choice she felt her body let go because of the fatigue she quickly fell asleep, completely and utterly exhausted.
