DISCLAIMER:
I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J.K Rowling.
Love and War
Prologue
Blood. That was all she could smell. The metallic scent of immense blood loss filled her nostrils and blocked out all her other senses. It was strange how the aroma of iron and oxygen numbed the pain she felt and the sounds she heard. She was once nauseated by the smell of it; one winter her friend, Ginny Weasley, got a minor cut from the parchment scroll she was rolling up and Hermione nearly vomited. That was then. Hermione welcomed it now. With deep breaths, she sucked in the odour and savoured each gulp as she shut her eyes. Another wave of needles pierced through her.
"Crucio," A sweet song whispered against her ear. Hermione stifled her screams by biting her lip when again the pain coursed through her like lava.
Hermione was used to the burning sensation by now. She felt it every day for the past two months so, she knew what to expect and refused to give the Death Eaters any satisfaction. That was what they were after of course. The satisfaction of hurting Harry Potter, the golden boy of the war, and they were going to hurt him through her. They were not getting anything from her today. "Crucio!" The voice screeched again. Frustration was evident in the shrill witch's tone, and Hermione's stiff body bowed upwards, almost snapping in half, but still no terror left her lips.
She tried her hardest to stop the stray tears which escaped from the corner of her eyes, but those flowed freely. The salt dripped down her cheeks and off her face, leaving a trail within the blood staining her face. Still, she did not scream. Black curls fell before her face, tickling her skin and stinging her cuts when the strands brushed against her check.
"I will not ask again, where did you get it?" The calm in the threat was filled with chaos, anger, and destruction. Hermione gave no response. She barely even heard the voice.
The question seemed so far away. All she could hear was the heavy pounding in her ears and the motto she chanted in her mind.
'You'll be home soon.'
Each time Hermione was brought to the dark sitting room her mind repeated those words; she was determined not give into Bellatrix Lestrange. The name, so vile and disgusting, entered her thoughts, and Hermione mistook the blood on her lips for the poison of her captor's evil. And, with another calming breath, she prepared herself for what punishment awaited.
"Don't think we will get anywhere today, Bells." The dark witch's attention diverted and she suddenly darted towards her ally. Even with blurred vision Hermione could see the long black sleeve of Bellatrix's dress hanging down before Scabior's neck as her sharp black fingernails dug into the flesh of his throat. Scabior's breathing was almost as ragged as Hermione's.
"Don't call me that," Bellatrix hissed before dropping the man to the floor. Turning her attention back to Hermione, who lay lifeless, the death eater sneered. "But you're right. We won't get anything from her today. Throw the Mudblood back in the dungeon and ensure she is alive for tomorrow's questioning."
Hermione was thanking Merlin when a hand tightly gripped her ankle and, although she was being dragged down the stairs, a wave of relief rushed over her. Each step thrashed against her already damaged body, but she knew that her day was over. Tomorrow she would wake, scratch another tally mark into the stone, and repeat the process, but today she would rest. Haze fell over her and Hermione finally let her eyes close as she was thrown to the hard ground of her cell.
Finally, she thought, before the clouds smothered the moonlight.
Author's Note:
Please review. I would love to hear your comments on it. All feedback is welcome; I just ask to keep it respectful. Like I said before, my mind took me someplace dark and this is what resulted.
Next chapter should be up soon.
