Hermione had never abhorred the sound of laughter more in her life. It surrounded her from all sides, like a chrysalis for an evolving caterpillar, but instead of invoking a feeling of safety and protection, she felt vulnerable and exposed. It was loud and gleeful, and full of derision. She wanted it to stop.
"Well, look who we have here," a man spoke through the unrestrained cackles. "Potter's sidekick number two. If you ask me though you're much more valuable that that redheaded blood traitor,"
Hermione suddenly felt her body involuntarily jerk off the ground. She was lifted up so that she was standing up straight and hovering just a few centimeters above the floor. She didn't dare open her eyes to see what was in front of her. She kept them as tightly shut as she could, because maybe if she blinked down hard enough those she knew were around her would go away.
"Afraid to look at us you filthy Mudblood?" another voice snickered, male once again. "We can fix that. Aperire!"
Hermione's eyes instantly shot open, forcing them to see. She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth no sound came out. There were twenty or so Death Eaters circled around her, clad in their deep black robes, and donning their frightful masks. They burst out in a unified chorus of guffaws.
"Having a difficult time screaming?" the Death Eater who had been playing with her asked. "Don't worry, it'll be better that way,"
He then flipped Hermione upside down with a wave of his wand. Hermione was grateful she still had the limited use of her arms as she struggled to keep the skirt of her dress over her bare legs. She could feel the blood rushing its way to the peak of her head, causing a throbbing sensation to start, and her vision to blur. There was also a lump in her throat that was steadily growing as she tried not to cry.
She let out an unheard "Oof!" as she was quickly dropped to the floor. She groaned as the pain of the impact coursed through her body. Hermione was helpless as she lay still on the cold ground, and could do nothing but breathe in and out, and wait for their next move.
"Now, now, Rowle, that's no way to treat our guest," a woman's voice said too sweetly to imply any sort of kindness, and fear flooded Hermione's heart as she recognized the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. "After all," she continued, "She is Harry Potter's friend. She deserves the best. Crucio!"
Hermione had never experienced such pain in her life. It was as if her body was being ripped apart, and contorting in all the wrong ways at the same time. She was sure she was shrieking- the feeling was too excruciating for her not to be. She could hear the echoes of howling laughter around her, most notably her torturer's.
"Feel good, Mudblood?" Bellatrix squealed with enthusiasm. "It gets even better than this," she smiled menacingly, as she began to raise her wand once again.
So this is the end, Hermione thought. She wondered why her life wasn't flashing before her eyes, when she decided that that probably didn't really happen- at least not in all cases. What she did think of was Harry and Ron, and her parents, and Ginny, and everyone she had ever cared about in her life. She thought of her unborn children and all the opportunities she wouldn't get to have. Her life had been short, but at least she had gotten to live.
She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to silently fall as Bellatrix began to utter the final words Hermione would ever hear.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione could see the flash of green through her eyelids, and welcomed the spell to hit her.
It never came.
"Who deflected my curse!" Bellatrix angrily yelled.
"I did," Hermione heard someone hiss, and suddenly the air was filled with complete silence. A chill ran down her spine as she thought of only one person who could have such an effect on people.
Voldemort.
"My Lord," The Death Eaters began to stammer. From her position on the floor Hermione could see their feet step to the side as they allowed Voldemort to pass though. He was next to her in a matter of moments.
"Welcome to Malfoy Manor Miss Granger. I apologize for the hasty actions of my loyal subjects. I assure you it will not happen again," he drawled. "Draco!"
There was the quiet shuffling of footsteps as another pair of feet appeared next to Voldemort's.
"Take her to her room,"
Hermione felt herself being levitated up again, but she was promptly returned to the ground when Voldemort said sternly, "Carry her boy,"
A pair of arms was suddenly under her, and she was being carelessly cradled away by none other than Draco Malfoy.
If it had been any other situation she would've fled out of his hold the moment he touched her, but at the moment Hermione had no choice but to let him carry her. She felt weak, and defenseless, and wasn't sure if she would rather be alive or dead. She knew without checking that she didn't have her wand, which meant she was powerless. It didn't matter that she was a witch anymore; all she was at that point was human.
It felt like forever that Draco was walking. Hermione knew they had gone up a couple flights of stairs and down some decent length hallways, and she wondered just how big Malfoy Manor was. Draco didn't say a word to her as he made his way to "her room" and Hermione preferred it that way. After the heartless chuckling of the Death Eater's, silence was all Hermione wanted. It was what she was getting, with the exception of the steady beating of Draco's heart. He actually has one, Hermione joked to herself spiritlessly.
She felt one of his hands leave her and the sound of a door opening enter her ears. The room they walked into was dark, with the only light coming through being that of the hallway they were just in. He set her on the bed that was in the room as gently as he could, sitting her up against the head board.
"You'll be staying here," he said flatly. "The bathroom's through that door on your right, and there's clothing for you in the closet,"
Hermione was confused as to why she had her own room and her own things to use, but she was too overwhelmed about everything to make her questions known. All she wanted to do was lie down and possibly die in her sleep.
Draco sat next to her on the bed with a cloth in his hand. "You're bleeding Granger, and I'm no good with healing spells," he said as he began to lift the cloth to the top of her head. Hermione instinctively slapped it away. He may have brought her there, but that didn't mean he could touch her whenever he pleased. In fact, she didn't want anyone ever touching her again, at least not anyone in this place.
Draco ignored her action and tried again, to which Hermione angrily swatted him away like before. The next time he anticipated her action and caught her hand with his other so she couldn't get to him. He almost had the cloth to her face when the palm he currently didn't have in his grasp meet his left cheek.
Draco furiously got off the bed and then flung the cloth at Hermione in irritation. "Fine!" he snarled in defeat. "Do it yourself, Mudblood." He stalked out of the room without a second glance.
Hermione crumpled into the bed, bringing her knees to her chest, and began to sob uncontrollably. In the past hour she had gone from celebrating a wedding with her friends to being captured and tortured by the worst people in the world.
And she was completely alone.
When Hermione woke up the next morning she didn't open her eyes right away. With what consciousness she regained she hoped beyond hope that she would find herself in the burrow, lying on a bed next to Ginny. She'd get up and go downstairs to find the Weasley's and Harry sitting at the table ready to eat breakfast. Ron would tell her "Good morning sunshine," like he always did and then gesture for her to take the seat next to him. They'd talk about how amazing the wedding had been, and then discuss their plans of laziness for the rest of the day.
Yes, that's exactly what would happen.
Hermione opened her heavy eyes, and felt the tears start to spring up again as she took sight of the dark and unfamiliar room around her. She definitely wasn't at the burrow.
There was a window to the left of the bed, but no light was coming from it, letting Hermione know that it was still early in the morning, or even possibly late at night. She wasn't sure how long she had been sleeping. She walked up to the window and looked out. There was the dim light of the sun peeking over the horizon, signaling the dawn. As the light slowly grew brighter she noticed that there were hills in the distance and a vast expanse of land. Wherever Malfoy manor was it sure had a nice landscape.
Hermione sighed and went into the bathroom Draco had pointed out the night before. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned as she ran her hands over her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked pale. Her mascara was streaked over her face from where her tears had carried it away, and her hair was a tangled mess. She turned away from her reflection, not wanting to see it anymore.
She brushed her teeth with a toothbrush she had found with her name personalized on it. She knew she probably shouldn't trust any objects in the vicinity, but at that moment she could've cared less if they were tampered with. Besides, they could've killed her last night if they wanted to, and it would've been much more dramatic than a poisoned toothbrush.
Her mouth taken care of, Hermione brought her attention to the shower behind her and stripped down out of her bridesmaid dress before turning it on. The steam worked in calming Hermione's nerves, and as the hot water rushed over her, she momentarily forgot where she was. It didn't last long however, and she quickly began to scrub her body down. Her tears mingled with the water falling on her face, as she slid down to the bottom of the tub and just sat there.
Fifteen minutes later and the water had lost its warmth, taking with it its comfort. She shut the shower off and continued to sit as the hot air dissipated and a cold chill settled over her body. She closed her eyes and willed her mind to take her away somewhere other than there.
Not a moment later her eyes shot open as the feel of a towel pressed on her body. A female house elf was leaning over the edge of the tub, covering her with it.
"Up miss, up!" the house elf beckoned sweetly. "Master Draco is waiting for you!"
Wonder what he could want, Hermione thought as she reluctantly got up and wrapped the towel around her damp skin. She wanted to take her sweet time getting out of the bathroom, but the small elf's hands were already on Hermione's back and ushering her out.
"I is Izzie Miss, and I will be helping take care of you," the house elf finally introduced herself as she pushed on Hermione's back.
Hermione jumped back in surprise and clung her towel closer to her as she saw Draco standing by the window and looking out. He turned to her, quickly surveyed her appearance, and then scoffed. "Hurry up and get dressed Granger, the Dark Lord wants to have a word with you,"
Hermione's stomach fell at his words. She had been hoping she'd get to remain a prisoner in her room and not have to meet anyone. She should've known better that Voldemort would have other plans for her.
She watched as Izzie rummaged through the closet to find clothes for her. She pulled out a purple sundress with a black sash and handed it to Hermione. "This will look lovely on you Miss," the house elf beamed before returning to look for shoes.
Hermione laid the dress down on the bed, but made no move to change as she waited for Draco to leave. There was no way she was getting dressed in front of him.
"Is something the matter Miss?" Izzie asked as she placed black ballet flats at Hermione's feet.
"I'm not leaving Granger," Draco said, knowing full well why she wasn't changing. "We have some things to go over before breakfast and since we're pressed on time I can't wait for you to be ready to tell you. You don't have to worry about me looking at you, I'll just keep staring out the window. Besides, there's nothing appealing about your body that would make me want to peek anyways. Just let me know when you're done,"
Hermione rolled her eyes and then began to put on her clothes, making sure Draco wasn't watching as she did so.
"First of all," he began, "Don't get any ideas about leaving, you won't get very far. You're going to be here for a very long time Granger, the details of which the Dark Lord will fill you in on after breakfast, so you might want to get used to the idea of living here. In case you haven't guessed already, I'm in charge of you. This means you do what I say, no if, ands, or buts about it. You will speak only when directed to. You will go only where you are allowed. When I say no, it doesn't mean yes. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," Hermione growled as Izzie finished tying her bow, only no sound came out. She had forgotten that she still had the silencing spell on her.
"I'm giving you permission to answer me Granger," Draco drawled. Hermione had no choice but to go up to him and turn him around. He jumped at her unexpected touch. "Geez Granger, a simple yes would've sufficed!"
It was the first time Hermione actually got a good look at him. His platinum blonde hair was still impeccably perfect, but his face looked paler than she remembered. His eyes were grey, like a storm over the ocean, and looked as if they had seen too much. His face had lost most of its boyish youth, instead steadily transforming into the face of a man. Hermione wasn't sure she liked this grown Malfoy. He was undeniably attractive.
Hermione realized she had been staring a little too long at his features when he arched his eyebrow at her. She quickly glared at him and then mouthed, "I can't talk,"
Draco gave a small snicker before lifting the spell. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you," Hermione replied harshly, though her voice was soft and hoarse. "And yes to your little tirade too,"
"Good. Izzie's your personal house elf and she'll get you whatever you need. Just call for her and she'll come," Draco continued. "Are you ready then?"
Hermione gave a curt nod as Izzie finished drying her hair with a wand, and she put on the ballet flats she had been given. Taking a deep breath she followed Draco out of the room.
It was possibly the longest walk of Hermione's life. Since she didn't know where she was going she trailed Draco like a lost lamb following its shepherd. They were making their way down an extremely long hallway that had black marble flooring and dull powder blue walls. On either side were portraits of paintings, of which the occupants decided to stalk Hermione with their eyes as she and Draco passed. She could hear them murmuring, but it wasn't clear what was being said, and she was sure it was better that she didn't know.
At the end of the eternal hall was a staircase which they took two flights down before reaching what she assumed was the ground level since no other stairs followed it. They were walking toward two grand mahogany doors, and Hermione could hear voices coming from the other side. Her heart began to thump hard in her chest, and her body began to tremble. She suddenly had the urge to vomit due to the butterflies flying widely in the pit of her stomach. She was about to turn around and run back upstairs when Draco grabbed her hand, predicting her move.
"Uh uh, Granger," he said shaking his head, not letting go of her hand. She had been so caught up in her own fear that she had missed his change in demeanor. He wasn't smirking, in fact his face was as impassive as ever. His eyes on the other hand were boring into hers, as if trying to convey something he couldn't say with words. He was just as scared as she was. "You can meet him willingly, or you can meet him by force. Take your pick," he muttered. "Speaking from experience I'd go with the first,"
Hermione gulped as he let go of her hand and then proceeded to open the double doors. He moved out of the way and gestured for her to step in first. The sound of her ballet flats echoed around the silent room as she passed through the doorway.
She was in a dining room with a long wooden table situated in its center. The table was full of people, some which Hermione recognized, and others that she didn't. Every seat was filled except for one next to Narcissa Malfoy, and another to the left of the head seat. She hoped she'd get the former, but her gut told her that would be unlikely.
"Hello Miss Granger," Voldemort greeted her from his spot at the head of the table. "Please, join us," he waved his hand toward the seat next to him.
With her legs shaking every step she took, Hermione made her way to the chair and sat down, unready to experience the most uncomfortable meal of her life.