Written during my first experience with High School detention…. Not bad. At least I got something done for once!
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"I'm scared." She whispered.
"Don't be." He whispered back. " I've got you."
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Alone in the dark, Hermione clung to the last shreds of her humanity. Caged in the cell below Malfoy Manor, filthy, injured, and starving, she felt like an abused an animal. She couldn't see, there was never any light. Not even when They came to hurt of her. Not ever when he came to see her. She didn't know who he was, or why he came to her. He just did. In a way, she looked forward to his visits; at least he talked to her in a civilized way. She never said anything back, though. What was there to say? She was imprisoned in a cell, in her enemies' estate, while they tortured her and bragged of how they had taken over her world. Nothing, no one, could save her now. Ron was dead. Harry was dead. They were all dead.
She wept.
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Pain. Pain like fire searing her veins, icicles forming in her lungs, freezing and piercing at the same time. Pain like boiling tar in her stomach, the acrid taste and foul smell clinging to everything, every part of her. She was real and not real. She watched from afar as her body was branded, beaten, and cursed. She saw them touch her and toy with her, driving her to the edge of painful and never ending insanity and then bringing her back moments before she could find peace. Even as she watched from the distance, she begged for death as the pain tore her into a thousand pieces and scattered her into space, depriving her of air. Depriving her of life.
She fell into blackness.
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Cool hands, soothing her injuries. Soft words, whispered to her in the dark. A small comfort in the hell that had become her life.
"Swallow, please. If you don't, you'll die and then I'll have failed. Failed you, failed them…failed myself." Cool drops against her dry, cracked lips. Water, sweet water, she parted her lips and let it drip into her mouth and down her aching throat. Her empty stomach cramped around it that small bit of liquid almost too much for it to handle. The voice whispered to her again and in the darkness, she felt it smooth her dirty hair back gently. "Thank you." She froze, unsure of herself. It had been so long since a gentle hand had touched her in such an innocent way. "Thank you." The whispers finally stopped.
She slept.
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Empty darkness and damp cold. That was all she knew. That and the mysterious stranger, who brought her water and bits of food. She didn't know what the food was, she could barely taste it and she could see nothing. She did not know who he was. He never told her that, just whispered things to her in the dark. Unimportant things, like the activities of the outside world, which no longer concerned her. She stopped listening to his words, they were too painful. Instead, she heard only the soothing sound of his voice. The sound of humanity. The familiar sound of her cell opening startled her, making her scramble to a corner and curl into a small ball. Shaking, she squeezed her eyes shut and hoped it wouldn't hurt too much. Rough hands seized her and dragging her to her feet. A clammy hand trailed down her body. Another soon followed. And another. And another. Hands, everywhere, touching where they had no right to touch. Laughing, making lewd suggestions. Then, she knew. She knew what was about to happen and then it happened and pain exploded.
She screamed.
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She rocked back and forth. Not on her own, of course. She had lost the strength to move long ago. No, he was here again, this time holding her and whispering apologies to her in the dark.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I waited too long. I waited too damn long and now…" He didn't finish the sentence and she thought she felt something small and warm drop into her hair. A tear. No, tears. He was crying. Why was her mysterious stranger crying? Surely not because of what had happened to her. She was nothing, no one. Just a girl in a cell in a basement of a Manor full of sick, evil people who liked to hurt her. That was all. Not much of anything, really. He shouldn't cry because of her. She wanted to tell him not to, that there was nothing he could do for her and that he should just let her die, but she couldn't. She was no one, and therefore did not have voice.
"I'll get you out. You'll be safe. I promise." He drew a long, shuddering breath. "I promise."
She waited.
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"Crucio!"
Crucio. Cruciocruciocruciocrucio.
The word echoed in her head. The pain seared through her fragile body. If you could call it a body. It was more of a shell now. The shell of Hermione Granger. Images flashed through her mind of who she used to be. She used to be strong. Strong and smart, she had fought and she had lost. All her studying, her books, her cleverness, all for nothing. Absolutely nothing. And they used to call her the "Brightest Witch of her Age."
She laughed.
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"Are you ready?" His voice broke through the darkness, along with the sounds of shouts and explosions. There was an air of desperation to the way he spoke those three words.
Yes, she wanted to scream. Yes, I am ready for something, anything other then this hellhole I've been stuck in for so damn long. But she couldn't. She wasn't anyone anymore. There was no place for her in the outside world. This dark, dirty cell in the basement of Malfoy Manor was where she belonged. It was all she had left.
"Are you ready?" He repeated the question and she felt him take her hand.
She froze.
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So that last bit was NOT what I originally intended, but I think it worked out rather well all together. No, this is not the end. This will be at least another chapter long, perhaps a few more. I'm also considering turning this into a short story series, but I'm not quite sure yet since I have a lot to do on here and in school, as my finals are coming up soon. In fact, I should probably be studying for my Spanish finals now… Ah the fanfiction addiction. How it hurts so good… I'll stop my rambling…
REVIEW and give me love, tell me how it is! –
Seleen.