A/N: There is torture in this chapter. Please don't read if you feel as though it will upset you. Otherwise, continue along and I hope you enjoy!
"It's been a week, Mudblood."
Hermione did not respond. Her left arm dangled uselessly beside her twisted torso, the socket stretched backwards almost to the point of breaking - but only almost. Bellatrix currently had her slowly rotating three feet above the floor, her body contorted backwards into an unnatural position. Hermione had been surprised that the strain on her spine had not snapped it in two, though she knew that her session with Bellatrix was nowhere near being over and the worse had certainly yet to come. Fresh tears trailed hot and sticky across her swollen face. The first few days of her confinement, Hermione had stubbornly attempted to hold them in. She should have known better. Bellatrix delighted at watching her prey squirm and fracture. Hermione was no different.
"Are you ready to tell the truth, eh?" Bellatrix paced in a slow circle around Hermione's warped form, delight evident in her eyes.
"We were just in hiding," Hermione heard her voice say. The lie had taken over, repeating itself without thought.
"Just hiding?"
Bellatrix flicked her wand with a hiss. There was a sharp crack and a burst of light. The index finger of Hermione's left hand immediately sprung completely backwards, twisting as it went. Hermione felt the bones flay apart and cried out, wriggling violently against her invisible bonds.
"Stop!" she screamed, her mind lighting up with pain. "Please, please, just stop, please!"
Bellatrix laughed, the shrill sound carrying over Hermione's wails for mercy.
"Stupid Mudblood," she sang. "Only truth will bring release!"
Wildly, Hermione thought of giving in. The quest for the horcruxes, the revelation of the Hallows, she thought of saying anything - anything - to make the daily tortures end. She could not take it much longer, she knew. It was simply too much pain for her to bear.
"Bella," came a cold voice from the doorway. The magic holding Hermione aloft faltered, dropping her a few inches.
"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix spat.
Hermione fell a few inches more. She turned her head as far as she could manage to confirm who had interrupted Bellatrix's fun. She only caught sight of a deep black cloak before her rotation forced the figure from view, though she knew that she could never forget that voice. Not after six years of lessons.
"The Dark Lord has become…impatient," Severus Snape drawled. "Your tactics have yielded no new information. He sent me to see if I would have better luck using my talents."
"You - are - not the only Legilimens here," Bellatrix shouted. Hermione's rotation put her back in view of her former Potion's master. His dour face sat atop his black traveling robes, looking just as pale and sinister as she recalled.
"Really?" Snape asked. "And what have your attempts to penetrate Miss Granger's mind taught you?"
Hermione watched as small jets of red sparks shot out of the end of Bellatrix's wand, scorching the wood on the floor.
"You don't have to tell me," Snape said before Bellatrix could respond. "I can already see that you have found nothing. Now, as I am acting on direct orders from our Lord, perhaps you could leave the two of us alone and go brush up on your Occlumency?"
Bellatrix screeched in disapproval, her eyes burning with hatred. Snape stood his ground, watching almost lazily as the psychopathic witch in front of him spun on her heels and stormed out of the sitting room. She whipped her wand around as she left and Hermione's arm spun backwards in its socket. It dislocated from her shoulder with a hollow pop and a rush of pain. Hermione could hear Bellatrix's delighted cackling over her screams as the door snapped shut.
Almost immediately, the magic holding Hermione in the air gave out and she was sent crashing to the ground. Before she could connect with the hardwood, however, another force caught her and pulled her up into a standing position. Snape strode the few steps forward to stand in front of her, his wand out and aimed at her chest.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," Snape said, his voice even and calm.
"I can't - God, just - please - " Hermione was not sure what she wanted to say. Everything hurt. She just wanted it to stop. She had started crying now. The pain was too much.
"Miss Granger…" Here, he faltered. Hermione felt a small bloom of hope open in her chest. "I…am sorry."
His pale hand tightened around his wand.
"Crucio!"
Every pain center in Hermione's brain lit up like a thousand tiny suns. She was aware of screaming, though the sound was lost in the rush of fiery blood shooting through her veins. It was as if she had been dropped in a massive vat of acid with no way to escape.
Then, suddenly, there was no pain, no sight, no nothing. Everything had simply gone black. Hermione was not quite sure if she was awake or dreaming. There was a flash of white - then the image of a golden cup swam into view. The edges wavered, but an emblem of badger glowed brightly on the side. The image sunk from view. Another flash of white and three brilliantly glowing numbers appeared in the darkness: 5945. These, too, only wavered for a moment before sinking down into the darkness. There was one more flash, followed by an image Hermione knew well: the façade of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. This last image lingered the longest, sinking slowly down through the darkness until Hermione was enveloped in nothingness.
Abruptly, Hermione found herself crumpled in a heap on the floor on Malfoy Manor. From her position, she could see the hem of Snape's robes and the tips of his pointed shoes. She heard the doors open, along with the loud click of Bellatrix's heels against the floorboard. Hermione quickly closed her eyes and remained as still as possible, hoping that Bellatrix would assume that she had simply passed out and thus end the torture session of the day.
"Well, what have your talents yielded, then?" Hermione heard Bellatrix sneer.
"It seems that Harry Potter and his friends were searching for a weapon."
Hermione held in a gasp. Snape was lying for her - for Harry. It was he who had planted those images in her head, she now knew. But what had been the purpose?
"A weapon?"
"Miss Granger found a mention of it while still at Hogwarts. The three have been searching for it since their escape in July, though it seems that they have not had much luck with locating it."
"Well? Where is it?"
"I was unable to gather that information before the girl lost consciousness."
"Then wake her up!"
"You have been at her for hours now," Snape sighed impatiently. "Her mind is exhausted. I cannot accurately penetrate it while she is in such a state. Put her down with the others and I will return tomorrow to continue."
"You presume to hold the authority to give me orders in my own home?"
"Bella," Snape replied, "Let us not take this to the Dark Lord, hm?"
Bella made an indistinct sound of rage.
"Now," Snape continued. "If you'll excuse me, I have a school to run."
Hermione heard his footsteps trail across the room and out into the hallway. Bellatrix was not far behind. She remained where she was on the floor, her mutilated arm and hand cradled close to her chest. Soon, the pain and exhaustion overwhelmed her and she felt her grip on consciousness fade again.
5945, she kept thinking as darkness washed over hers. The cup, Gringotts, 5945. The cup, Gringotts, 5945.
Hermione awoke much later in the dark cellar, her head and arm pounding. Hermione felt her head cushioned by something living. Someone's fingers combed delicately through her matted hair.
"Luna?" She asked softly.
"Oh! Hermione!" The body beneath her head shifted slightly. "Are you alright? I'm afraid we couldn't patch you up much."
"We were worried that you were dead at first, my dear," She heard Ollivander say from three feet to her left.
"There was so much screaming," Dean chimed in.
"How long…?" Hermione managed to ask.
"Have you been out?" Luna replied. "Hours and hours and hours. I think it must be near dawn by now."
"Would you like some water?" Dean asked. Hermione nodded, hoping that he could see her movements in the dark. She wasn't sure if she could manage another word.
"No use," Came a gruff, sullen voice from the corner. "They'll just kill you later."
"Don't talk like that, Griphook," Luna said, uncharacteristically sharp. Griphook responded with a grumble in Gobbledegook.
Dean returned with the water jug and tipped the contents slowly into Hermione's open mouth. The cold liquid sailed down her throat and settled in her stomach, making her feel infinitely better. Luna began to stroke Hermione's hair again.
"Don't worry, Hermione," Luna said, her voice light. "We'll get out of here soon. Believe me."
Hermione wanted to believe Luna. She wanted to believe Luna with all of her heart. Yet, she did not know how she could let herself have such hope while being in such dire straits.
A sharp crack broke the silence in the cellar, followed by three more in succession.
"What the - ?" Dean cried out, scurrying backwards.
"Dean?" Said a new male voice.
"Lumos," Said yet another, this one a woman.
A small beam of light illuminated the cellar. Hermione saw Luna's pale, bruised face shining just above her. Dean was to the right, next to the wall. Ollivander had moved forward when the sounds rang out to sit, crouched next to the two girls. Griphook was still slumped over in the corner, shielding his face from the sudden light. She strained to see the faces behind the light, but could not make out the shadows.
"Oh, no," The first voice breathed. Two shadows moved forward and into the beam of light. Identical faces, right down to the freckles plastered across their noses and the looks of horror marring their features.
"'Mione…" Fred Weasley moaned, crouching down next to Hermione's broken form.
"Fred," She replied, disbelief flooding her mind. "Are you really here?"
"We're really here," He responded. "Now, just hang on. We're going to get you guys out of here."