Hermione found herself hitting the ground suddenly. Her increasingly battered body was really having a hell of a day.
She looked up to see Scabior heading over to pick up a bottle of Firewhiskey. Looking up made her head spin side to side and Hermione realise she hadn't eaten anything since the morning. The change of it all. That morning she'd been sitting with Harry and Ron, getting ready to see Xenophilius Lovegood and now … well it wasn't even worth giving it the dignity of thought.
'You just gonna sit there?'
She looked around. It wasn't much. A side table and chair sat on one side with Scabior now downing the bottle of Firewhiskey, the majority of the tent being taken up by the thread worn rug she now sat on and the large, putrid smelling bed Hermione now looked at with dread. She could already feel herself tensing at the thought, the fear, the knowledge of what would happen.
'Oi! Get up,' the Firewhiskey Scabior now dangled in front of Hermione. She shook her head.
'Your loss.' He smiled as he gulped the rest of the bottle down and threw it across the tent, smashing against the wooden pole holding the tent up, enjoying watching the girl jump back as the glass scattered across the floor.
He observed her a minute. He hated it when hey just sat there. They were no fun. He expected more from her. He'd read the newspaper articles. 'The brightest witch of her age' it had said. Well, clearly not. Nor was she the prettiest although that didn't always mean everything. Dear God she didn't even look at him.
What's your name again?'
'Penelope Clearwater.'
'Nah,' standing up at this point.
'See, if you were then why would the boys there called you somethin' else?'
Silence.
'Look, you can just sit there and pretend your … whatever an' I'll have some fun with ya, an' we will have fun, and you'll go cryin' cause I didn't scream your name or you can tell me know an' I scream your real name first time. Either way I'll get it outta ya.'
She glared up, her eyes sore with crying.
'Then what difference does it make?' she spat out.
'Hey, hey easy. Save that for later.' Swaggering over to her before dropping down on his knees. He brought out a finger and let it circle her face, her eyes never leaving his.
'You know what? I'm gonna enjoy this.' His finger drawing itself down her bloodied neck. She couldn't hold it much longer. Her arm now began shaking as his finger headed down further, holding her breast before clumsily kneading it. Tears began to well up inside Hermione, the shame, the disgust, the horror of him touching her this way. This shouldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening.
'Heeeey heeey ssh now' the hand leaving her breast to silence her sobs, 'We don't want you cryin' do we. Otherwise then, I will have to punish ya.'
Hermione leapt up, panic taking over her body. She started to circle the tent, desperately searching the tent for something, anything. She could feel his eyes burrowing into her as he stood upon and started to walk towards her. She started to back away, not sure where she was going til,
'Ahhhhh!' She looked down to see herself standing in the glass, blood trickling out from beneath her feet. Terror gripped her, tears running off her face. Where was Harry? Where was Ron? Why her? Anyone but her please.
'Please,' she begged, looking up to see Scabiors drunken smile.
'Tell me your name.'
'You know my name.'
'No. I want you to tell me,' his face now directly in front of her. She stepped back, wincing at the glass digging into the soles of her feet.
'Pleeease.'
'TELL ME YOUR NAME!' hitting the wooden pole Hermione now hit, the tent shaking as Hermione slid down the pole, too scared to look at him anymore. Too scared to defend herself anymore. Scabior bent down, grabbing her chin as she screwed her eyes.
'Tell me your name or I will hurt you. An' I will enjoy it. An' then I'll go an' get everyone else an' trust me they will enjoy rippin' your sweet sorry cunt apart an' makin you scream so much that you won't even remember your name. So just say it.'
She opened her eyes, staring into his clear blue eyes staring right back into hers as she took a a breath in to whisper,
'Hermione Granger.'
'Good girl. Now do I have to pick you up as well?'
She shook her head. Her arms began to shake uncontrollably as she readied herself up, the glass clinging to her hands as she back at the floor, tears mixing with her blood. She felt Scabior's finger wipe away a tear as she felt his body press up against hers.
'Now then, Hermione, ladies first.'
Hope you're enjoying this and let me know where you think should be going.
