Good Luck, Lolita.
A/N: If you don't like sex, swearing, human trafficking, smut or angst…This story isn't your cup of tea. Sorry.
Severus Snape looked at the battered and bruised body on the floor in front of him. They were bloodied, their clothes were torn and the brown mass of curls twisted and tangled worse than usual. Curling his lip back into a sneer he looked down at the pitiful sight before him. How pathetic, he thought to himself.
He poked the toe of his leather boots into their thigh hesitantly as if he were trying to avoid messing up his shoes by touching something so vile.
He poked them a touch more forcefully and they began to move slowly.
Groggily Hermione Granger's eyes snapped open as she blinked slowly once, twice, thrice, trying to work out where she was. The cold stone floor she was lying upon was digging into her back. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert and her head was pounding.
Pushing herself up into a sitting position she looked up and she saw him. Jumping slightly as her heart hammered in her chest, she tried to gulp but her mouth felt as if it were packed with cotton wool.
Severus Snape stepped back; clearly happy with the response he had gotten from the girl and leant coolly against the doorframe to the Malfoy Manors dungeons.
"My, My," He drawled as he looked at the girl pitifully, who looked as if she was still trying to process where she was and why she was there. He head was heavy and her mind was foggy.
"How the mighty have fallen," His voice cold as ice as he looked at his fingernails casually.
"Where are Ron and Harry?" She choked out. Her voice almost a whisper.
"Dead, Miss Granger." His eyes flashed in amusement for a moment at being able to tell the little know it all bitch her friends were, in fact, dead and she was cold and alone in the world. It brought him much joy. That will teach her for being a little swot all her life.
"Dead?" She let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a frustrated growl
"Did I fucking stutter, that's what I said, Miss Granger," His patience now shorter than it had been at any stage in his life.
A lump formed in the girl throat and tears threatened to spill down her blood-covered face.
He rolled his eyes; he really didn't have the time or patience to deal with the emotional roller coaster of Hermione Granger.
"Get up you daft girl, I was sent down here to bring you to Narcissa, she is going to clean you up and prepare you for the auction."
"Auction?" Hermione choked out as she shakily got to her feet, pain shooting through her whole body, bile rising in her throat and threaten to spill forth. She wouldn't show she was hurt, she wouldn't show weakness. She refused to show she was broken and bruised.
One foot in front of the other, she thought to herself as she steadied herself and took tentative steps towards the Potions Master, his expression cold and impassive as he looked down his nose at her.
Stepping back he allowed her through the door of the dungeon and followed up the dimly lit staircase of the Manor. Blinking rapidly as the daylight she hadn't seen in Merlin only knew how long assaulted her retinas burning them the bright daylight flooding in through a large window.
He rounded on her, stopping her going on further and he stood stock still, staring into her eyes for a moment. Her eyes were full of sadness and worry as she blinked back up at him, her face cut and bruised.
"The Dark Lord wishes for me to explain what is going to happen, Miss Granger," He spat.
"Ha..Happen? Why not just kill me already instead of prolonging my suffering," She said coldly, defiantly looking him in the eyes, never wavering from the air of intimidation he was shrouded in.
"Where would be the fun in that," His voice level, the gleam in his eye was almost sardonic.
"You see, Miss Granger. You possess great abilities; even The Dark Lord can see this. Your magic is years beyond your peers and stronger than most of the Wizarding population. So, it would only seem logical to use you to breed a new generation of Wizards and Witches to dedicate their lives and serve our Lord.
You will be sold off to the highest bidder, Miss Granger. To a pureblood, I assume because you are going to fetch a pretty penny and everyone knows the purebloods are the most affluent and wealthy. They will use you as little more than a broodmare. They will fuck you and impregnate you, and they will care for you while you bear their child, and once you have birthed that baby, they will repeat the process over and over again. You may even be passed around within the Pureblood circle like a broodmare going from stud to stud and stallion to stallion, used nothing more than for your uterus and your potential to pass on your great mind."
He stepped closer to her, barely a foot between them, she felt his hot breath hitting her face as it sent Goosebumps over her body and a chill down her spine. His baritone voice was a smooth as honey as it filled her ears.
Her eyes grew wide, her mouth opening and closing but no sound came out, she really had no idea what to say. What could she say? What could she do? She was alone and wandless. She was at the mercy of the Death Eaters now and their Lord.
"You see, Miss Granger. While you are of dirty blood, they will look past that in some cases for the greatness in which can be passed onto their progeny. Much akin to a breeder of animals. They will overlook certain flaws in a hope to inject the much-wanted characteristic into their breeding program. In this case, your brilliant mind and your aptitude for anything you turn your hand at has been both your triumph and your downfall.
Not only that but if these pureblood family stick to breeding to only other purebloods, soon their offspring will be walking around with two heads and five arms. They need a new injection into their lines, fresh DNA and what better than the greatest witch of our age. The one who will inject more power into their lineage than anyone else that we know."
Gently he ran a hand along her chin, grabbing it he tipped her head up to look at him. She didn't shy away from his gaze, she held it, determined to show she wasn't scared.
"Such the embodiment of Gryffindor courage, Miss Granger." He ran his thumb gently across her dry, bloodstained lips. She shuddered in response but refused to let her gaze waver.
"Or, perhaps, no one will want you and I will buy you. To do with as I please, this could be a great day for you, or it could be a terrible day. It all depends on who desires the power you possess, who wants that power inject into their lineage. I have it on good merit the Malfoy's plan to purchase you, I'll leave it to your imagination which one wants to fuck you more."
Her eyes closed and he knew that she was defeated; she no longer wanted to fight. She knew she couldn't fight, it would all be in vain. She sucked in a shuddery breath, his warm hand still on her chin. Her eyes fluttering open meeting his gaze again.
There was a clicking of heels on the marble in the distance heading their way. He still held her chin and her eyes still locked on his. So this was it, the girl that had made his life a misery for the past seven years was finally going to be out of his life hopefully forever. No longer would he be saddled with the burden of her in his life. Something inside of himself felt empty at that revelation, she had become such a large part of his life without either of them really realizing it.
The footsteps grew closer, their gazes still locked in a battle with neither saying a word. He leant forward and placed his lips roughly against hers. Her eyes grew wide, shocked at the move he had just made. As quick as it had happened he pulled back, placed two hands on her shoulders and pushed her back roughly. She stumbled back a few steps before righting herself.
"Good luck Lolita, you are going to need it," his voice a low whisper as he turned on his heel and walked out just as Narcissa Malfoy walked in.
The blonde woman tutted as she looked over Hermione. "How am I meant to work with this?"
The woman was striking, she was a foot taller than Hermione, she was slim and she was well dressed. Her pointed features were prominent and she could see Draco looked just like his mother. The woman's kind grey eyes looked at Hermione in pity.
"Come, Darling, we need to get you cleaned up." The woman felt a pang of guilt within her. Narcissa was not cruel or evil in any sense, she still felt compassion and love and pity and guilt just like anyone else. She had never killed and she had never tortured. Her only crime was by association to Lucius Malfoy.
Hermione eyed her suspiciously for a moment before resigning to the fate that her life as she knew it was about to change, and change for the worse.