Through the haze of lucidity and fear, she could hear the words being spoken – spoken by a voice that struck as much fear into her as Voldemort's. Maybe more.
"She won't break" the words were hissed, Bellatrix's voice high with petulant frustration.
Lucius looked at the wild-haired woman in the centre of the high-ceilinged room, then at the unmoving figure on the floor. "Move the Mudblood down to one of the unoccupied dungeons."
"No!" Bellatrix snapped, and Lucius flinched. She gave a feral smile.
Turning in a swirl of robes, she called to her only nephew.
"Draco, darling, how would you like to do a favour for Aunty Bella?"
The youngest Malfoy looked up, with hooded, dull eyes. "Yes?" he intoned, voice barely louder than a mutter. "How does having your very own Mudblood toy sound?" she grinned.
The gleam in Bellatrix's eyes grew brighter as Narcissa cried, "No! Not Draco!"
Mrs Malfoy's plaintive cries brought Hermione back to consciousness. She moved her throbbing arm up, rubbing the pain from the filthy word carved into her skin. Seeing the young girl move, Bellatrix spun back, shrieking "Imperio!" Hermione's movements ceased instantly, and the older witch crooned, "Good girl. Now just follow that dashing young man there to his room. I want you to do whatever Draco tells you, alright?" Hermione nodded, and stood up shakily. As she lightly walked past Bellatrix, the Death Eater glided closer, and whispered into Hermione's ear, "Do be a good girl".
"Wait here", Draco ordered, before stalking into his ensuite bathroom. Now he was out of the room full of Death Eaters, he could show the emotion he'd suppressed the past few hours.
Cursing, he sat down on the edge of the extravagant bathtub. He didn't care about her birth, or her supposedly being beneath him. No one deserved to be tortured for something they couldn't control.
A tingling sensation in the back of his skull alerted him to a foreign presence in his mind. Of course, they were watching. He steeled himself for what he was going to do.
Striding back into the bedroom, he noticed Hermione sitting on the bed – and his resolve crumbled. The Imperius Curse had all but faded away, and the fear in her dark brown eyes was almost enough for Draco to forget his task, no matter the consequences for him. Almost.
Then his father took his mind.
As Draco moved purposefully back into the bedroom, a thrill of fear shot in a crackling shard down Hermione's spine. She was fighting off the remnants of Bellatrix's curse when Draco planted himself at the foot of the colossal king bed, yet Hermione thought she saw a flicker of uncertainty. Then, his face became curiously blank, and his silvery eyes went dark. A sob escaped her lips as Draco removed his shoes and socks, and crawled onto the bed. When he gripped her shoulders and pushed her backwards onto the pillows, the first tear escaped, oozing slowly down her face.
"Draco, please!" she gasped, changing tack, and watched as his face changed.
The shock of hearing his given name from her mouth pulled Draco to the front of his mind again. To his surprise, he was on top of Hermione, straddling her hips. More than anything, though, was his fury at his father possessing him.
Gently, trying to stay in control of his own mind, Draco trailed his fingers from Hermione's shoulder, over her collarbone and up until his right hand brushed her cheek. He decided right then that he would do anything to hear his name gasped like that again, but in pleasure rather than fear.
Draco had just leaned in for a light kiss, when stabs of pain in his brain made his awareness fade.
Hermione was surprised at how gentle Malfoy was, at the feather light touch he placed on her face. When he started leaning in, her heart clenched and her eyes fluttered closed. For the second time, she felt his body tense up, and the gentleness ceased. Rather than placing his lips to hers, he attached his mouth to Hermione's neck, and bit down harshly, sucking hard. The flare of pain caused Hermione to release a strangled screech, which faded to a moan as the pleasure made an appearance.
"You're not meant to be enjoying this, Granger!" Malfoy snapped.
She shut her mouth instantly, fear returning to her eyes. Her survival instinct kicked in, and she loosened, submitting completely to Malfoy. He gave a smirk at her acquiescence, and yet it wasn't his trademark smirk - it was tighter, older. His hands trailed to the waistband of her jeans, and she focussed on non-feeling. A small sob escaped as she was undressed. The sobs increased in frequency as the shame of being wet for such an awful act rolled over her. With her tears running down her cheeks, Hermione felt Malfoy position himself, and closed her eyes tightly.
Just as Draco fought his way back to consciousness - pushing his father's spirit fully out of his mind - he found himself moving into Hermione. He was shocked - too shocked to stop himself. He felt her tear, and heard her sobs increase as she froze in pain. He stopped as soon as he was in control.
"Hermione?' he whispered, horrified.
Her eyes opened wide, and he gently wiped her tears.
"Hermione, I - I am so sorry. I didn't mean to. I really didn't want this for you"
She was still frozen, eyes staring up dully at her assaulter. He knew she didn't believe him.
Draco tried again. "My father - he was in my head. He was controlling me. I didn't even know what he was doing. I swear!"
He was staring into her eyes, willing her to believe. Then, as he watched, the coldness left her eyes. The deep brown had a spark in it again, and her lips twitched up in the corners.
Draco had forgotten he was still inside Hermione, until she rolled her hips once. He sucked in a breath at the sensations, and suddenly her tiny smile made sense. Draco watched in disbelief as she nodded once, then he grinned, and leaned in to kiss her.