Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: I'm posting on a weekly schedule, Thursday evening (CST), so look for chapter 3 in a week!
This is a poly-fic, Hermione is paired with multiple wizards, if this bothers you, please turn back now.
The amazing Canimal is the author who breathed life into the Thorfinn Rowle I am using as a character. She's a boss and you should all go read her fics now!
My lovely beta's are brownlark42 and SlytherclawFaerie. They are awesome and really made this fic what it is. Any further mistakes are all mine.
This originated from the Plunny Factory thread on the DEE group on Facebook by Valli1312. So all props to the idea go to her and I'm just happy she let me play with it.
The feedback I have received on just the first chapter of this fic has completely blown me away. You guys are amazing! I was so excited to get this chapter up so you all could read it! 20 reviews, 52 favorites, and 150 followers: every time I look at those numbers I think I must have this fic mixed up with some amazing author who is clearly not me. You have no idea how happy I am that you all are loving this so much. So thank you, thank you, thank you!
Enjoy!
Hermione Granger woke with a splitting headache. It felt as though an erumpent had danced a jig on her skull all night long. She rolled over to snuggle back into the bed and fell off the small cot she was on. If she wasn't quite awake earlier, now she was wide awake.
She had landed hard on a cold, damp, stone floor. She looked around and found herself in a small cell in what was clearly a dungeon. The floor and walls were made of rough, gray stone. The ceiling was vaulted above her, at least four meters, she thought.
"For the love of Merlin," Hermione muttered with exasperation. This wasn't the first time she had woken up in a cell, but in the past, she had at least been involved in a war. It was supposed to be peace time now. Voldemort had been gone for five years after all. Hermione was a war heroine and she had the scars to prove it. She didn't recognize the cells, so that ruled out Malfoy Manor and Lestrange Court, the two places she had been locked up in at various times during the three-year war.
"Hello! Anyone there?!" Hermione banged on the wood door of the cell. Her fists made a small sound, so she flattened her hand and banged again. There was a small barred window on the door that she looked through, but couldn't see anything more than a small bit of gray stone hallway. She glanced down and saw she was wearing a red date-night dress, but no shoes. And of course, no wand. She tried to remember what she had been doing that she would be dressed in such a way.
She had a date with Theo - had he come to pick her up yet? Or had she been ambushed before he arrived? She couldn't remember. She rubbed the back of her head and winced at the lump she found back there. It felt scabbed up too, which meant she had been hit hard enough to bleed. Such a blow likely had given her a concussion; no wonder she couldn't remember the details of her attack.
She banged her hand on the door again, "Hey! I'm awake!" She turned and leaned her back on the door and started kicking it with the flat of her foot, that made more noise. But stopped after a few minutes, as she felt herself sway. She was exhausted.
After waiting another ten minutes, still, nobody came to the cell door. She turned back to the cot she had been sleeping on. There was a thin, straw mattress and an equally thin, wool blanket. Her feet were freezing from standing on the cold, damp, stone floor. She sat back on the small cot and wrapped the blanket around herself, determined to keep herself from hypothermia.
As she sat on the cot she took in the rest of her condition - she felt fine other than the injury to her head. No other scrapes or bruises or broken bones. She was hungry, but she had been hungry before her date - Theo and she had been planning to go to dinner. She had to pee too, and looking around the cell, she saw that they hadn't even provided her a bucket to pee in. Well, that wouldn't do. She decided to warm up and rest for a little longer before kicking up enough noise to demand some attention from whoever was holding her captive.
Her concussion must have been affecting her more than she knew because, before long, she was asleep again.
Hermione woke again, this time to the sound of her cell door opening. Her war instincts were in full effect, and she sprang out of the cot to intercept the intruder. When she came face to face with Draco Malfoy, Hermione groaned. Of course. Finding herself locked up in a dungeon naturally meant that Malfoy was somehow involved.
"What can I do for you, Malfoy?" Hermione spat out.
"Granger, Granger, Granger. How do you always find yourself in these situations?" Malfoy smirked at her as he levitated a food tray in behind him and set it on the cot.
Hermione lifted an eyebrow at him, "I'm popular, I guess." She sat next to the tray on the cot and inspected the food: broth, bread, and water. She carefully sniffed it all and could detect no poisons, but she knew there were poisons that were odorless and tasteless. She looked back up at Malfoy, eyebrow still quirked in question.
"Come now, if I were going to go through all of the trouble of poisoning you, I wouldn't have brought you to Nott Hall," Malfoy said his smirk turning cruel. Her blood ran cold. Nott Hall? That was Theo's ancestral home. He hardly went there as he preferred his London flat.
"What am I doing here? I don't remember anything," Hermione replied as casually as possible. She began slowly spooning the broth into her mouth. It was stupid to refuse food, and Malfoy was right - he wouldn't take her prisoner in order to kill her later. He'd just kill her and be done with it.
"Your boyfriend directed me to bring you back here after you weren't killed in the ceremony," Malfoy replied. He leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets as he watched her eat and surveyed her with his ice-blue eyes. He was tall and slim, and his blond hair rested on the collar of his suit jacket. He was dressed in his customary black suit; he seemed to take after his old, dead Head of House that way. Every time Hermione had seen Malfoy since the war, he wore black on black on black.
Hermione didn't remember a ceremony, but that wasn't too surprising given her concussion. It worried her that Malfoy had implicated Theo in her kidnapping. Hermione loved Theo; she had been hoping he would propose soon.
"I'm afraid I've suffered a concussion, Malfoy. You'll have to either explain it all or leave. I really don't care to hear bits and pieces," Hermione said as she finished her broth. She began tearing pieces off of the hunk of bread and eating those as well.
"Have it your way, Granger," Malfoy replied with a chuckle. "I know that big brain of yours is whirring away. I guess you'll just have to keep wondering." Malfoy turned around and shut the door of the cell. He peered at her through the small window at the top of the door.
"Tap the tray and a house elf will come to take it away. Toodle-ooo, Granger," Malfoy sneered and walked down the hallway. Hermione glared after him, infuriated that he wouldn't tell her anything more than the sly hints he had dropped.
Well, Hermione, think about it, what do you know after that conversation? One - she was being kept at Nott Hall, her boyfriend's childhood home. Two - Theo was somehow involved in her abduction, and considering she was wearing a date-night dress and no shoes, he probably abducted her from her apartment. Three - Theo and Malfoy were working together somehow. Theo had not introduced her to many of his friends, and while she knew he and Malfoy saw each other occasionally, she did not know how close their relationship was. Four - there was a ceremony that went awry. How awry she didn't know yet, but she planned to figure it out and escape.
She finished her meal and thought about what would happen when she tapped the tray. Malfoy had said a house elf would come take her tray away. Hermione assumed that meant a house elf would apparate into the cell, take the tray and apparate back out of the cell. Hermione planned to go with the house elf. She tapped the tray, grasped it firmly in both hands, and waited for the house elf to show up.
With a loud crack, a house elf appeared in the cell. Hermione recognized the dainty form of Dink, Theo's house elf.
"Dink!" Hermione shouted in surprise.
"Oh, Missy Mione! I must take the tray, you have to let go!" Dink said as she wrung her hands in front of her. Her large ears were drooped in worry and her watery-blue eyes were wide with fear.
"Dink, tell me what's going on," Hermione ordered. She hoped Dink would take orders from her, as she had in the past.
"Master Theo says I cannot tell you, Missy Mione. Either let go of the tray and let me take it, or I must leave!" Dink cried out. She moved to bang her head against the door, but Hermione dropped the tray and stood from the cot, pulling Dink to her so she wouldn't hurt herself.
"I don't want you to get in trouble, Dink. Take the tray, I'll figure something else out," Hermione said, handing the tray to the distraught elf. Dink nodded in relief and popped out of the room.
Hermione lay back on the cot, deep in thought. Dink's presence and statements confirmed that Theo was involved in her capture. Not only was he involved, if she was being held at Nott Hall, he was probably the mastermind behind it. That meant the last year and a half she had been dating him had been some kind of lie. Hermione figured she could cry about it later, but right now she needed to find a way out of this dungeon. She also needed to know why Theo would spend so much time and energy in getting close to her if she was just going to end up his prisoner. There was a deeper plot here, and Hermione was determined to figure it out.
Hermione awoke to the sound of her cell door opening again. This time it was the man she thought she was in love with. The man she had hoped to spend the rest of her life with. The man she had hoped to have children with. The amount of betrayal she felt was staggering. Hermione didn't even stand from the cot. She sat with her back against the cold stone wall and wrapped the thin blanket around herself.
She waited for him to speak. He stood in the doorway, with the light from the hallway silhouetting him, so she couldn't read his features.
"Did Draco feed you?" he asked abruptly. She nodded sharply, not trusting herself to speak yet.
"I'm sure you have questions," he prompted. She nodded again.
"This is the longest I've ever heard you stay silent, Granger," he sneered at her. Suddenly she was so angry she couldn't hold back the words.
"Do you feel like a big man, Theo Nott? Hmmm? Good job, you pulled one over on the war heroine. The brightest witch of the age fell for your charms. Just let me go. Whatever you were trying to do has failed, so just let me go," Hermione snapped at him.
Theo stalked forward, coming into the light. His light brown hair was impeccable as ever, but his pale green eyes flared with a fiery rage she had never seen before. He had his wand gripped in his hand. "Listen here, you mudblood bitch. You think the world revolves around you. But I have news for you. You were just a pawn in a larger plot that had nothing, absolutely bloody nothing, to do with you."
"Fuck you, Theo. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Let me go!" Hermione shouted at him, finally standing. Her wild curls were sparking madly, surrounding her head like a nimbus cloud.
Theo's cold laughter echoed through the dungeon, "Can't do that, Granger. Some very important men seem to think that their survival depends on you. Maybe we should put that to the test?"
Hermione had no idea what Theo was talking about, but she didn't like the look in his eye. This man standing in front of her was not the boyfriend she had come to love over the last year and a half. This was a different person, a person Hermione didn't know and didn't want to know.
"Crucio," Theo said coldly, pointing his wand directly at Hermione's heart. Hermione lost all conscious train of thought as she tumbled to the floor, her nerve endings on fire. She shook and twitched, her joints stiffening and releasing in a macabre dance. The curse lifted Just as suddenly as it had begun.
When Hermione became aware of her surroundings again, she realized it was not just Theo in the cell. There were five other wizards standing above her, all shouting at each other. She couldn't understand what any of them were saying, and they were making her headache that much worse.
"Shut up!" she croaked weakly, but nobody heard her as she was still on the floor, curled into a ball. She slowly stretched her sore limbs and rolled to her stomach before pushing up to her hands and knees.
"Quiet!" she tried again, but couldn't make her voice heard over the shouting wizards.
Suddenly, there was less shouting and a body tumbled to the floor next to her. It was Theo, silenced and bound with a full body bind. He was glaring daggers at her. Hermione was still on her hands and knees trying to will herself to stand when she was hauled to her feet. She found herself with a comforting arm wrapped around her waist. The wizard holding her pressed her back snugly into his chest, steadying and warming her with his closeness.
"All right, Princess?" the wizard whispered in her ear. Hermione was surprised that amid her confusion, she also felt something like arousal. Granted, this had to be the most unarousing position to ever be in - imprisoned, recently tortured, and now surrounded by wizards unknown. Hermione just nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak.
Gradually, she was able to calm her rolling stomach and lift her gaze from the floor to glance around the cell only to have her knees give out at the sight that greeted her. The wizard behind her had a firm hold on her, and she didn't fall. Standing in the cell with her were dead Death Eaters.
Rabastan Lestrange stood across from her a look of concern on his face. He was a tall, thin man with dark auburn hair and startlingly blue eyes. She had watched Neville kill him in the final battle. She had even felt for a pulse - Rabastan was dead, she was certain of it.
Rodolphus Lestrange was standing next to Rabastan. He shorter and stockier than his younger brother, with the same hair and hazel eyes. His face was a mask of no emotion. She knew Rodolphus had died during her escape from Lestrange Court in the last year of the war.
Antonin Dolohov stood near the door, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He was a broad-shouldered man, with swarthy skin and darker cocoa eyes. He had been one of Grawp's victims in the Final Battle.
She drew a breath and managed to look behind her to see the arms holding her. They belonged to none other than Thorfinn Rowle. He was a massive Viking of a man with long dirty-blond hair and gray eyes. She had fought him herself in the final battle and knew he had died before the end, but not by her hand.
Malfoy was standing in the hallway watching everything going on in the cell.
"What happened?" Hermione finally spoke, her knees still threatening to buckle at facing down four dead men and a kidnapper.
Nobody spoke for a moment, then Rodolphus Lestrange stepped forward, "Nott Jr.'s torturing triggered your bond with us."
"Bond? What bond?" Hermione was gaining a little more strength with every moment she stood pressed against Thorfinn.
"This is going to be a long conversation; let's get somewhere more comfortable, eh Princess," Thorfinn suggested quietly, his mouth pressed next to her ear. She nodded in agreement - anything to get out of this cell. Hermione soon found herself swept along the dungeon corridors of Nott Hall, then up into what looked like a study. Rodolphus had floated Theo up with them, although he hadn't been too careful to ensure Theo didn't hit any walls on the way. I hope he's in some pain tomorrow, Hermione thought with bitter relish.
"Dink!" Rabastan Lestrange called out once they were all settled in the study. Hermione was nestled on the couch between Thorfinn and Antonin, who leered down at her disheveled appearance. She ignored him and kept her head straight and her shoulders back. Rodolphus brought a knitted blanket over to her. Hermione accepted it gratefully and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was still deeply chilled from her time in the dungeon.
Dink popped into the room and Rabastan ordered tea and scones for the group. Dink cautiously eyed Theo where he was bound in front of the fireplace, but she didn't say anything before apparating away to get tea sorted.
The room was silent until Dink popped back in with tea. The little elf set the service onto the coffee table in front of the couch and poured Hermione a cuppa just as she liked it. Hermione felt comforted by this familiarity and gratefully accepted the cup from the small creature. Dink popped away without pouring out for the wizards.
"How is it that the house elf loves you, Granger?" Malfoy grumbled as he moved to get himself a cup of tea.
"I have manners," Hermione responded, holding her head high while sipping her tea.
Rodolphus let out a booming laugh, "She's got you there, nephew."
Everyone had their tea, but still, nobody spoke until Hermione did.
"Are one of you going to explain?" Hermione asked in her best pure-blood bitch voice. She didn't know how or why that tone of voice worked, but the men in the room straightened up as if they'd been faced with their grandmothers rapping their knuckles with a wand for slouching. Hermione had discovered a few months into dating Theo how well this tone worked, she had been practicing since then.
"Actually, either Nott or Malfoy would have to do the explaining," Rabastan said.
"Well, Theo is tied up at the moment. So Malfoy? Care to explain?" Hermione asked.
Malfoy sighed and rolled his eyes, "We were trying to bring back the Dark Lord-"
"WHAT?!" Hermione shouted, leaping up from the couch, causing her blanket to fall onto her now vacated seat and her empty teacup to tumble to the floor. She put her hands on her hips and glared down at Malfoy where he sat on a chair across from the couch.
"Do you have any idea how much time and effort I put into killing that monster?" Hermione demanded. She couldn't believe that Malfoy and Nott were so sodding stupid to try to bring that inhumane beast back to life.
"Calm your tits, Granger," Malfoy retorted dryly. "We did succeed, but the Dark Lord made an error and was banished back to beyond the veil."
"Oh, the Dark Lord made an error? Because you never make mistakes, Malfoy?" Hermione glared at Malfoy and slowly sat back on the couch between the two hulking Death Eaters. Thorfinn levitated her teacup and refilled it - fixing it the same as Dink had - before he handed it back to her.
"So the Dark Lord was brought back and then he was banished. That doesn't explain why there are four dead men in this room," Hermione said as she snagged a scone from the tray and began to munch on it. Antonin pulled the blanket back up around her shoulders.
"The failed ceremony was to bring back the Dark Lord and any of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters who were near him in the afterlife. I was sure my father would be among them, but apparently, he has moved on. These four were the Death Eaters closest to the Dark Lord, so they came through," Draco told her.
"Let me get this straight, you somehow found a way around the fourth exception to Gamp's Law, and brought back five people from the dead?" Hermione asked. She was a little astounded; that was a complicated bit of magic.
Malfoy grinned at her, "It was all your boyfriend's doing. He's spent the last five years working on it."
Hermione nodded. She knew Theo was smart - that was one of the things she loved about him. Had loved about him. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. No use crying over him now. She was still in danger. Malfoy had just confirmed that she was in a room with six Death Eaters, four of whom had been brought back from the dead.
"And the bond?" Hermione asked, her voice steadier than she could have hoped for.
"You were supposed to be dead," Theo spat out, his body bind loosening enough that he could talk and move his head, but not yet fully broken.
Hermione shrank at the venom in his voice and felt Thorfinn put an arm around her. As much as she didn't want to draw comfort from a Death Eater and known killer, she couldn't help the feeling of safety he provided.
"Now, now, Theo," Rodolphus said, brandishing his wand at the younger man. Theo stayed quiet but glared at the elder Lestrange. Hermione thought it was strange they were protecting her. Maybe this had to do with the bond they kept talking about?
"The bond?" Hermione prompted again as she looked around at the wizards.
"It appears that the ceremony created a bond amongst us," Rabastan gestured at the four previously dead wizards and Hermione. "And instead of killing you, he's bonded our souls."
"WHAT?!" Hermione leaped off the sofa again. She was soul-bound to four previously dead wizards? This just couldn't be. It was bad enough that her boyfriend of a year and a half turned out to be a fraud, but now she was soul-bound with not one, but four perfect strangers? Evil men that she had fought against? And they were all convicted Death Eaters and murderers. What good was a soul-bond if her bond-mates were in Azkaban?
"I can assure you we didn't take the news any better," Antonin told her as he tugged her back down to sit on the couch. Hermione sat stiffly until Antonin wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side. The same odd sense of comfort she drew from Thorfinn seemed to come from Antonin as well. This must be the bond's work.
"It must have been in the incantation Theo came up with," Malfoy offered with a shrug. He didn't seem to care much about Hermione or the formerly dead wizards' predicament.
"Well this is a rather large bloody problem, isn't it?" Hermione snapped at the lot of them.
She got a round of shrugs back. Men are so aggravating, Hermione thought. She stood once more and held out her hand.
"My wand," she said coldly. She didn't know if it would work, but it was worth a shot. She was going to get out of here if she could.
"I don't think so, Granger," Malfoy told her as Theo struggled to stand from the floor. "We just admitted to attempted murder, we aren't about to let you walk out of here."
"Then why bother bringing me up from the dungeon in the first place?" Hermione asked. She refused Thorfinn's tugs to get her to sit back down.
"We weren't going to, but then Nott started torturing you and our bond wouldn't stand for that," Rabastan told her with a sneer. She sneered right back. She wasn't a school girl any longer, and she could hold her own against these wizards.
"Oh, lucky me for the bond then," Hermione rolled her eyes at the impossibility of the situation.
"Yes, you are lucky. Had the ceremony gone as expected, you would be dead," Theo said in a chilly voice. Hermione glared at him still standing. She shrugged Antonin's hand from her waist, pushed Thorfinn's hand from her arm, and stalked forward to where Theo was standing in front of the fireplace.
"Theodore Thoros Nott, you are a slimy, foul, little cockroach, and if I never see you again in my life it will be too damned soon!" Hermione shouted as she raised her right hand and slapped him hard across the face. She whirled around before he could recover and stalked toward Malfoy.
"And you! I testified at your trial, you evil ferrety git!" Malfoy took one look at Hermione and hopped out of the chair he was in. He ran behind the couch to take refuge behind the wizards who sat there.
"Come back here, you sneaky snake!" Hermione shouted as she chased after him. Hermione was sure she could manage a simple bat-bogey hex wandlessly. She was rounding the coffee table when an arm snaked out and she was promptly hauled onto someone's lap. Hermione kicked her legs and pushed at the arms holding her.
"Let me go!" she shouted, but the wizard held on tight.
"Stop squirming, love," he panted in her ear and suddenly she could feel his arousal, hot and long at her bum. She immediately stopped moving. Her eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder to see that it was Rodolphus who had her in his lap. He chuckled at the look on her face.
"It's the bond," he whispered in her ear. Hermione nodded, thinking hard. Of course, the most common type of soul-bond was the soul-mate bond, in which mates were romantically linked. It generally included a compulsion to mate. Oh, gods. She was going to want to mate with these wizards; they were going to try to mate with her. She sat very still in Rodolphus' lap as he ran his hands up and down her arms, soothing her in a way she wouldn't have expected.
"I think the Princess just came to the same conclusion we came to earlier," Thorfinn said with a smirk.
Antonin smirked as well, "Ready for bed, mishka?"
"You couldn't handle me in bed, sakharok," Hermione snapped back, causing Rabastan to chortle out loud.
"He may not, but I'm sure I can," Rodolphus hummed in her ear as he rolled his hips into hers. Hermione gasped at the blatant innuendo and the feel of his length rubbing along her bum as he pushed his hips into hers.
"Stop it!" Hermione shouted, trying to stand, but Rodolphus held her fast and chuckled behind her.
"Oh, stop molesting the poor girl, brother," Rabastan chided. He stood from the chair next to Rodolphus and pulled Hermione up to standing.
"I'm sure she's had a long two days in the dungeons, so we should let her get cleaned up. And get a bath," he added as an afterthought. He put his arm around her waist and began leading her from the room.
"You expect me to stay here?" Hermione asked skeptically as Rabastan led her out of the study and into the hallway. They climbed the stairs to the first floor while Rabastan answered her.
"We're working on getting things sorted with the Ministry. While we do that, we're taking the hospitality of Nott Jr. And since he's outnumbered…" Rabastan trailed off as he waggled his eyebrows at Hermione. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at his antics.
"How are you getting things sorted at the Ministry?" Hermione wanted to know how they expected to escape Azkaban. And whether there was any hope for the soul-bond to be reversed. Surely, these Death Eaters didn't want to be bound to a muggleborn, and certainly, the four of them wouldn't want to be bound to one woman.
"Getting our estates returned to us has been the biggest priority. Although we did register the bond first…" Rabastan started before Hermione cut him off.
"What do you mean you registered the bond?" Hermione could feel panic well up in her chest. If the bond was registered that would mean they wouldn't be able to reverse it, and registering it meant that people would know about it. She couldn't have anyone know that she was bound to four Death Eaters. She had finally gotten her reputation in the press repaired. This news would cause every publishing house in the wizarding world to begin hating her again.
"Well, if we didn't register the bond, then how would we claim our estates? We figured registering the bond would only bolster our case in the Wizengamot," Rabastan explained.
"So you are telling me that the Ministry thinks we're married?" Hermione squeaked.
"Well, bonded, but yes, it's essentially the same thing," Rabastan replied. He clearly wasn't paying attention to Hermione's reaction, because he kept going when she stopped, and he didn't notice that she was no longer by his side.
"I can't be bonded to four bleeding Death Eaters!" Hermione shouted. "What would Harry and Ron say? The press is going to vilify me," she moaned as she hung her head in her hands.
"Don't worry about the press. You're titled now. You just became Lady Lestrange, Lady Rowle, and Mrs. Dolohov. You have more money and power behind your name than Hades himself would know what to do with," Rabastan looked back at her and extended his hand, beckoning her forward.
"But I don't want to be any of those things! And you all are going to Azkaban. I just inherited a load of work!" Hermione complained as she trudged toward him.
"We are not going to Azkaban, not if we can help it," Rabastan replied, grasping her by the waist again.
"How do you figure?" Hermione asked looking up at him as he guided her up another set of stairs to the second floor.
"We were already punished for our crimes," Rabastan said with a shrug.
They had reached the second floor and were heading down a hallway when he stopped abruptly and opened a door. He led her into the largest bedroom she had ever seen. It was so large that it had to have been the size of the Gryffindor common room. It was decorated exquisitely in creams and beiges. Hermione thought about what Rabastan had told her. It made sense that they thought they could get out of going to Azkaban, as they had died after all. Wasn't that the most final of punishments that the Wizengamot could give? But she wasn't so sure that the wounds from the war would be healed enough for the Wizengamot to allow that argument to fly.
"Our solicitor, Pucey, is arguing the case today actually in front of the full Wizengamot. As long as we receive pardons, we won't be staying at Nott Hall much longer. We'll retire to another property," Rabastan said as he walked toward the bed. He turned to face her and plopped down on the bed, lying on his back and looking up at the canopy. He patted the space next to him as if inviting her to join him. Hermione made a rude noise in her throat.
"Not Lestrange Court," Hermione replied firmly. No way was she going to live in a house she had once been kept a prisoner in. Hermione wasn't stupid; she had no illusions that these four wizards would let her go on living the life she had been prior to being bonded with them. And if they were going to be choosing a residence, she would have some say in it.
Rabastan looked up at her from the bed, reclining on an elbow as he studied her. "Fine, we can save Lestrange Court for our heirs."
"Heirs?! Oh no, Lestrange. I will not be providing anyone with any heirs. You better find a different broodmare, because it won't be me," Hermione told him fiercely.
"Can't," Rabastan said. He didn't clarify or go on. He just raised an eyebrow at her as if challenging her to contradict him.
"What do you mean can't? You can't find another brood mare? Or won't?" Hermione glared at him and put her hands on her hips in an unconscious move to make herself look bigger.
"Can't. See it's a part of the soul-bond. Can't have sex with anyone else. Antonin tried two nights ago and his cock went floppy as soon as he tried to stick it in her," Rabastan told her crudely.
Hermione grimaced at the picture that made in her head. Then she felt her fury rise. She turned on her heel to go back downstairs and give Nott and Malfoy another tongue lashing. They had not only kidnapped her, they attempted to murder her and botched it so badly she was soul-bound to four wizards who could only have sex with her. She was going to be required to sexually service four wizards - wizards she didn't choose and who hated people like her, for the rest of her bloody life. And Dolohov, the thought of him trying to sleep with another witch made her blood boil. She didn't want to think too hard about why she felt that way; this confusion, between jealousy and dread, made her even angrier.
She took three steps before a pair of arms slid around her waist and she was hauled against the hard chest of a strange wizard for the third time that day.
"Going somewhere, kitten?" Rabastan asked, his breath hot in her ear. She could feel his firm chest behind her and he placed his hands on her hips as he rocked his hips into the small of her back. He was hard, she could feel his cock and in response felt desire pool in her belly.
"I – I am going to go kill Nott…" she trailed off when Rabastan began nuzzling her neck and nipping at the skin, then laving it with his tongue.
"Stay with me," Rabastan purred into her ear as he caught the lobe between his teeth. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access, and he pulled her tighter to him, slipping a leg between hers. He moved one hand to low on her belly and slid it down toward her mons, and cupped her there. The other came up to caress her breast. He tweaked her nipple through the fabric of her dress and bra. Hermione moaned in response and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sensations.
She tried to marshal her thoughts. This was insanity. This was a dead man who was touching her so deliciously. This was a killer, a Death Eater. Hell, he had even kept her captive in his own home during the war. Why was she allowing him to do this to her? Why was she enjoying it so much? He began sliding the capped sleeves of her dress off her shoulders and the hand on her breast moved up to her collar bone. He lightly rested his fingers against the side of her neck and stroked the pulse point there.
"How good does this feel, kitten?" he panted between the open mouthed kisses he was planting on her neck and shoulder.
"Does it make you want to fuck?" he groaned as he ground his hips into her. Hermione couldn't stop her moan if she tried. Dirty talk was her biggest turn on.
"It sounds like you want to fuck, kitten," Rabastan murmured, drawing out fuck, making it two syllables as he emphasized it with another hip roll. Hermione nodded. She did want to fuck Rabastan right then. He was making her body feel incredible - her nerve endings were on fire. She had thought she and Theo were very sexually compatible, but Rabastan felt better. He made her feel small and desirable, and she didn't know the last time she had been this aroused from just a few touches.
Rabastan spun her in his arms and before she could catch her balance, his lips crashed to hers. She gasped at the sudden assault and he took advantage by invading her mouth with his tongue. The kiss was intense and deep and took Hermione's breath away. He pulled away from her and began kissing down the other side of her neck as he pushed her dress down. It pooled at her feet and she stood before him in her bra and knickers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drove her hands through his shoulder length dark auburn locks.
He lifted her from her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist to steady herself. He turned and walked to the bed, gently setting her atop it. Rabastan stayed standing and pulled out his wand, banishing his clothes to the corner. Whatever spell he used neatly folded them in a pile on a chair. Hermione made a mental note to ask him that spell, but before she finished that thought he was on her, stretching out above her and kissing her mouth. He said the same spell, vanishing Hermione's undergarments and then tossed the wand behind him. He trailed his hands down her body, skimming by her breasts and center. He touched everything else, except where she so desperately wanted him to touch. Her own hands were splayed on his back and she rolled her hips into his.
"Please," she begged, breaking the silence that had invaded the room until then.
"Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me what you want."
"You… R'bastan… fuck me," Hermione panted out in between fierce kisses to every part of Rabastan she could reach. He smelled like spice and musk, and Hermione couldn't get enough of him.
Rabastan looked up at her, smirking at his name on her lips. He kissed her deeply and then was gone before Hermione realized what was happening. He had pushed her thighs apart and settled between them. The first lick of her slit had her moaning and arching her back. He wrapped his arms around her thighs to hold her in place and went to town. He licked, flicked, and fucked her with his tongue. When he moved one of his arms and slid a finger inside her, Hermione keened in response to the promise of being filled.
"More… I need more…" she pleaded with him as her hands clenched the duvet cover and her head tossed from side to side. She was so close, so incredibly close to what promised to be a fantastic orgasm and she was chasing it hard.
Rabastan than did something nobody had ever done. He sucked on her clit and Hermione tipped over the edge as wave after wave of pleasure stole over her body. Before she had a chance to recover, Rabastan entered her in one smooth stroke. Hermione arched into the intrusion, her body aching to be filled. At the moment Rabastan entered her, a bright blue light filled the bedroom and Hermione felt a slight burn and pinch on her left wrist. She couldn't think about what that meant right now.
Instead, she decided to enjoy the moment and wrapped her legs around his waist - digging her heels into his arse as she rode out the rest of her orgasm. She clutched his shoulders and panted into his neck as he slowly pulled out and slid back in, bottoming out. She could feel the soft slap of his sack as he set a slow, rocking pace. Her desire swirled through her. It built and built until she felt she was on the precipice of a huge cliff, just waiting to be pushed over. He twisted his hips and caught her g-spot. The touch, the taste, the feel of this man on top of her sent her head spinning.
"Gorgeous, kitten," he panted and picked up his pace. He drew up and braced himself on his elbows and snapped his hips into her.
"Bast," Hermione moaned, "more!" She was so close. She lifted her hips to meet his, and combined with the twist, he hit the right spot and sent her careening over the edge again. She sobbed his name over and over and over again as she came down from her high. Rabastan kept pumping; his pace growing faster and wilder as her walls clenched down on him.
"Gods, so close, kitten," he moaned into her neck.
"Come on," Hermione panted. She wanted to feel him come inside her, to feel his seed coat her walls. She pulled him closer with her heels as his pace began to fall apart. She gripped his shoulders and back with her nails. She pulled him closer and tighter to her. He grunted her name when he came, pumping forward once, twice, a third time before stilling. He lay atop her and panted for a few moments. Hermione held him close, unwilling to part from his heat and enjoying the intimacy of the moment, feeling him throb.
When he pulled out of her and flopped onto the bed beside her, Hermione whined at the loss of contact. She was just about to get up when Rabastan summoned his wand and got the duvet out from underneath them to cover them with it. He pulled her close, chest to chest, and as she stared up into his brilliant blue eyes, Hermione felt safer than she had in the last 48 hours.
"Sleep, kitten," Rabastan said as he gently kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. Building the kiss to slow, languid, liquid kisses that drugged her.
"Yes, Bast," Hermione replied closing her eyes. She liked that. Rabastan was a mouthful, but Bast suited him. And so she slept.
