Not Go Gentle
by cloneserpents
Part Three
Standard Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.
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Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"
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It was a wonderful morning. The sun was bright, with a few fluffy, pure white clouds in the crystal blue sky, and birds were singing gaily. One couldn't help but to have their spirits lifted the moment they caught a glimpse of the beautiful sky. But Percy Weasley wasn't the type of person to dawdle around looking at the sky like some kind of lazy buffoon; there was important work to be done.
The moment he woke up, Percy began dashing about. He took an efficient and time saving shower. He then slapped together some toast and placed it in a paper bag to eat later, instead of wasting time having a proper breakfast. He Apparated just outside the Ministry, briskly walked through the employee entrance, and said his hello's to the proper, high ranking people. Many times, some of his fellow Ministry employees would often try to make idle chat with him as he made his way to his office. They would bring up trivial matters like the weather or latest Quidditch match. Percy had no time for such pointless conversations and tended to look down his nose at the witch or wizard who tried to waste his time. Mind you, if it was one of his superiors who talked about the weather or some Quidditch match, Percy was able to talk to them ad nauseam about whatever subject they wanted to bring up.
So when the little witch from job placement hopped toward Percy, he was positive that he was in for a silly little conversation about how the flowers in the lobby were particularly fragrant today or who was dating whom from the Department of Games and Sports. The little witch, Mrs. Booth, was notorious in Percy's mind for being a gabber and gossip-monger. He mashed the call button for the lift and hoped that he wouldn't have to spend too much time listening to the little witch jabbering on as he waited for the lift to arrive.
"Good morning Percy," Mrs. Booth happily heralded. Percy rolled his eyes at her greeting; he never understood how people of a lower status than he would always treat him so informally. At the very least, she should have referred to him as "Mr. Weasley". But truly she should use his proper title of"Under-Secretary Weasley" out of respect for the valued position he held.
"Morning, Mrs. Booth," he returned the greeting rapidly.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Booth with a glow in her round cheeks.
"Yes," replied Percy curtly as he kept his attention away from the annoying witch by checking on the progress of the lift.
"Something very interesting happened yesterday," Mrs. Booth continued, either ignoring Percy's rude tone or simply oblivious to it. Percy rationalized that she was more than likely unaware of the meaning of his annoyed manner, seeing how slow and dim she appeared. "Three young people filled out job applications."
"How unusual," Percy said with thinly veiled sarcasm.
"The unusual thing was that two of them were your siblings!" Mrs. Booth announced. That caught Percy's attention.
"What?" the bell chimed indicating the arrival of the lift and Percy ignored it. "Which ones?"
"Ronald and Ginevra," she replied. "I was going to ask your father about them; to see if they would be good workers. But you know how parents tend to embellish. So I figured you'd be the better person to ask about their work habits."
"Can I see their applications?" Percy asked. Mrs. Booth merrily led him to her office.
Percy was pleased that two of his siblings had decided to do something positive with their lives by working for the government and was curious to see what positions they were seeking. After looking over both of their applications, Percy was surprised to see that they wanted to join the M. L. E. In all honesty, he had heard that Ron may have been fairly good at some basic Defensive spells, but Percy knew his brother was more than a bit lazy. Perhaps the twelve week intensive training program for the M. L. E. would break him of his irresponsible indolence. Ginny, on the other hand, was too young to join the M. L. E. Even though some people thought her silly Bat Boogie Hex was impressive, it was nothing but a childish prank that would be ineffectual in a real fight. But that didn't mean she wasn't needed by the Ministry.
"Ron would do well with the M. L. E. program," Percy told Mrs. Booth. "But it isn't for Ginny, even if she were old enough. Perhaps there's another opportunity for her?"
"Oh yes; she was so bright and chipper yesterday," Mrs. Booth answered. "I know the perfect position for her."
"You said that three people came in," Percy began as he handed his siblings applications back to the little witch, "who was the third?"
"Um… Hermione Granger," she handed Percy Granger's form. "It's a general application requesting any job within the Ministry," explained Mrs. Booth. "Do you know of a job where she would do well?"
He remembered the Granger girl was very bright and clever. Percy realized that with those skills she could be a good asset for the Ministry. But he also remembered that she tended to be bossy, idealistic, and a bit of a nonconformist — he had heard tales of her ludicrous house-elf support group. That could be a problem in the long run. Percy's conclusion was that Granger be placed in a position that kept her out of the way, and just as importantly in a section that rarely let it workers advance. That way, she couldn't cause too much trouble with her odd views and unneeded agendas.
"Muggle-Relations," he finally answered. "Being a Muggle-born, she has unique insight that will be beneficial to the department."
Mrs. Booth seemed satisfied with his decision. 'That department would keep Granger out of trouble,' Percy thought to himself.
x
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Lord Voldemort folded the post he had just received, placing it on the table next to his throne. The note contained a warning from one of his spies regarding Potter's Mudblood friend. Granger was going around telling people that Potter was alive and was trying to convince the Order of the Phoenix to help search for him. Thankfully, according to his spy, most people assumed that Granger was being hopelessly optimistic and had quickly dismissed the Mudblood's theory. But it wouldn't do to have her sway people. Even with all the anti-detection wards and charms that Voldemort had around the castle and Potter himself, Voldemort didn't need people looking for his prisoner.
Granger was a problem that would have to be dealt with. Voldemort had two options. The first was to simply kill her; the fact that she's a Mudblood would make most people believe that she was targeted because of her heritage. Unfortunately, given her current outspoken behavior, some people might discern that she was killed for her belief that Potter was alive; that she was eliminated to silence her. That was what Voldemort specifically wanted to avoid. So he decided to go for his second option; make her life so difficult that trying to help Potter would be the least of her concerns. He decided to order his spy to handle this matter. The wizard wrote a note detailing his orders to his spy. As he attached the post to an owl's leg, a knock on the door drew the Dark Lord's attention away from his thoughts on the Granger problem.
"Come in," Voldemort spoke as he sent the owl on its way. Bellatrix entered and bowed before her master.
"I live for my Master," she greeted Voldemort.
"Rise, Bellatrix," Voldemort said kindly. The witch stood and Voldemort noted that she was quite aroused, more than likely, with the thought of today's session. The witch did so savor her work.
"How is the preparation progressing?" Voldemort asked.
"Exceptionally well, my Lord," answered Bellatrix with a pleased voice. "I've finished the first stage of the marking and will start the second phase today."
"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked genuinely. "I feel that if someone enjoys their task, they do a better job at it."
"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix answered with a glow to her face. "His cries are like a serenade… and I so enjoy listening to his ramblings when his mind starts to falter."
"What does he say at these times?"
"It is difficult to understand," began Bellatrix, "but he often fantasizes about being rescued. Then he and his rescuers search for something."
"Really? I wonder what his addled mind wants to search for?"
"Something called Horcruxes," answered Bellatrix.
"WHAT?" Voldemort shouted and shot up from his throne causing Bellatrix to fall to her knees in fear. She did not know what she has said or done. Whatever it was, it had angered her Master greatly.
Voldemort ignored Bellatrix's fear. The boy knew about Horcruxes! Dumbledore must've discovered the Dark Lord's secret and told Potter. Did Potter tell the Order? Snape made no mention of it, but after Dumbledore was murdered and Snape fled, Potter might have revealed the secret to the Order. Voldemort's spy had made no mention of such a revelation, but that did not ease his mind; Potter could have only shared this information with the top members of the Order and thereby the revelation would not have been known to his spy. For all Voldemort knew, Moody or Lupin could be searching for his Horcruxes at that very moment. This was something that Voldemort had to deal with immediately.
With a bemused smile, Voldemort finally noticed that Bellatrix was cowering on the floor like a proper servant. He enjoyed watching people, regardless of who they were — followers or not — wallow in fear.
"Rise, Bellatrix," he commanded and the witch rose to her feet shakily. "I must leave for a short while. Continue preparing Potter while I'm away."
Without another word, Voldemort walked passed Bellatrix. She had been positive that Voldemort was going to punish her; so much so that she had nearly soiled herself. Her hands were trembling with fear. She shook them and chastised herself; a Death Eater does not fear; they make others fear.
x
x
She was fighting the urge to pack up her trunk and ask her parents to drive her to King's Cross station. Today was the day the Express headed to Hogwarts, but Hermione was not going to be on it.
It had been over two weeks since she, Ron, and Ginny had applied for jobs at the Ministry and yet none of them had heard back yet. Hermione was starting to worry that her application had been declined.
As if on cue, a nondescript barn owl landed on Hermione's windowsill. On the owl's leg was a post with a Ministry seal. Hermione tore the post open and read the letter.
"Dear Miss Granger,
We have decided to accept your application and welcome you to the Ministry. Please arrive here tomorrow morning for orientation for your new position in Muggle Relations.
Yours,
Matilda Grace Booth."
Hermione was quite pleased. She realized that with this position, at the very least, she'd be able to track what the Death Eaters actions were when they attacked Muggle targets. Hopefully this kind of information would lead to clues about Harry's location.
After showering and dressing, Hermione Apparated to the Burrow to tell Ron and Ginny the good news about her job at the Ministry. When she arrived at the Weasley house, she found Ron looking very ashen, sitting on the couch with Ginny next to him.
"Is everything all right?" asked Hermione.
"I got in," Ron murmured with fear evident in his voice. "I don't believe it…"
"That's fantastic!" heralded Hermione. "What about you Gin?"
With a frown, Ginny handed Hermione her rejection letter and said with disappointment; "They said I'm too young, even with their lowered standards. But they offered me a clerk job with the M. L. E."
"What would you have to do if you took it?" Hermione inquired.
"Oh, take emergency fire-calls, file reports, and the like," Ginny sighed.
"But that's great! That way you'd still be able to come across useful information," offered Hermione. "Not only will you know first hand about Death Eater attacks thanks to taking emergency fire calls, but you can look up past calls as well."
"You're right," Ginny's mood brightened. "I can still help you find Harry. What about you? What job did you get?"
"Muggle Relations," answered Hermione. "I can probably access all the information about Death Eaters and their dealings with Muggles. I start tomorrow. When do you start Ron?"
"I leave for training in a week," he gulped. "I didn't think I'd actually get in."
Hermione patted Ron on the back in a comforting gesture. The brunette was so happy over the thought of all three of them being able to search for Harry, Ron's concern and doubt didn't completely register with her.
x
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Minerva McGonagall looked over the faces of the students as she gave her very first welcoming speech as Headmistress of Hogwarts. She was saddened to see so few students this year; only about one-hundred and eighty or so in total. The first year class was so small that the Sorting Ceremony took a mere five minutes, whereas previously, it would have taken the better part of an hour, if not more.
But it didn't matter how many children showed up; this was a school and they had a job to do. If there were two thousand children or just one, McGonagall and her peers were going to teach. It was their duty as instructors.
x
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The night he and his teammates attacked those Muggles, Draco and Pansy made love for the first time. Draco was a little rougher than he should've been, but the Muggles' screams of anguish — particularly the young girl's cries as she was violated — were still fresh in his memory and he lost what little control he had. He spent the better part of the next two days apologizing to Pansy for his actions and the pain he had inadvertently caused her. The next time they made love, Draco was very careful not to lose control, which Pansy appreciated.
From then on, the two lovers spent most of their time with each other. Draco soon lost count of how many times they made love. Of course each time they were intimate, Draco focused on the memory of the Muggle girl begging her bewitched brother not to rape her. That memory was incredible to Draco. For days after the event, whenever he had thought of her screams, his blood would heat up and he would become fully erect. He would often close his eyes while making love to Pansy and pretend that she was that filthy Muggle girl begging him not to rape her. It was a dirty and low fantasy for him to have, but it made it heart race and his loins ache.
However, a little over two weeks after the attack, the memory of her screams became less and less potent. One night, he actually had difficulty getting hard enough to penetrate Pansy. It infuriated him; he desperately tried to get aroused, focusing both on Pansy's supple body as well as the Muggle girl's screams. But to no avail. After nearly half an hour, Pansy offered the gem"It happens all the time"to Draco and then suggested that they both needed to get some sleep. Pansy fell asleep in his arms a short while later, but Draco could not rest. He was furious with his inadequate performance. He loved Pansy and she deserved a wizard who could please her. Draco had no problem doing just that when the Muggle's screams were fresh in his mind. He wondered how he could please his witch if he couldn't perform.
The next day, an idea came to him; he would repeat the attack on some Muggles. He would listen to them scream and beg for mercy and while their screams were still fresh, he would go and please Pansy like a real wizard should. But he dare not tell Pansy his plan; she would be offended to learn that he enjoyed the Muggles' suffering on such an intimate level. And he couldn't tell any other member of his team for fear of it reaching her. So Draco decided that he would do a Muggle Hunting expedition by himself.
That night he approached Macnair with his request to leave the castle for a bit.
"Why?" Macnair asked simply.
Draco replied a half-truthful answer; "I want to practice the Unforgivables on some Muggles."
"Very good," Macnair said, smiling at the young Death Eater's initiative. "Might I suggest a Muggle park about fifteen miles east of here? It has some secluded areas where you can hone your skills."
Macnair supplied the park's exact location to Draco and the young wizard Apparated to the edge of the park. He arrived shortly after the sun set, the waning light gave the sky a warm purple hue. He saw a group of ten or so people, in their early teens, cleaning up after a late evening picnic. It took him less then ten seconds to identify the girl he was going to use; she was around thirteen years old, fourteen at most, had long blonde hair, and small breasts. She would be perfect. But since Draco could not allow himself to actually touch a lowly Muggle, he needed a boy; a proxy to physically defile the girl in his stead. For that he simply picked a nondescript bystander. The selected boy didn't need to be anything special; Draco was just going to use him as a tool.
Draco pointed his wand at the girl and muttered "Imperio" and quickly cast the same on the boy. He was surprised at how adept he had gotten with the Imperius; he could easily control both teens with little effort. He commanded them to walk to him. Thankfully, the other teens were too busy talking amongst themselves to pay attention to the boy and girl.
Draco led his two playthings into the woods nearby. Once he felt they were in far enough, he transfigured several twigs on the ground into large oak trees that formed in a tight, ten foot circle around them, creating a makeshift wall and blocking the view from outside. Draco then cast several Silencing Charms on the tree ring so that the Muggles' screams could not be heard on the other side of the trees. He transfigured a small rock into a large table, and placed it in the exact middle of the room.
The girl followed Draco's mental command and lay on the table. The Death Eater was thinking about magically gluing her to the table much like he had done to the other girl, but he wanted to see her struggle more then the previous Muggle. Draco flicked his wand and four vines shot out of some of the trees and wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles. The vines then pulled on her limbs, forcing her spread-eagle, with her legs wide open.
Draco ended the Imperius on the girl and she frantically looked around.
"Wh-w-what's going on?" she asked nervously.
Draco felt the urge to toy with the girl, to make her squirm. "My name is Draco, what's yours?" he asked, his voice as cold as ice.
"S-S-Sally," she fearfully stuttered. "Wh-why am I here?"
"To entertain me," Draco replied. The boy, who had been standing behind Draco waiting for his order, moved to the girl. He tore at her clothing until she was completely naked on the table. The entire time the girl was screaming and begging for the boy to stop. She tugged at her bindings which caused her small breast to shake and jiggle. Draco eyed the girl; her breasts looked so soft and warm, the fair hair on her crotch was barely visible. Enticing as her naked form was, it was mostly her screams that caused Draco's manhood to rise.
"Please let me go," the girl begged Draco. "I won't tell anyone."
Draco commanded the boy to lower his trousers. While the boy was unbuckling his belt, the girl's pleas grew more frantic.
"P-p-please…. L-let m-me go," she sobbed. Sally was writhing on the table as she begged and whimpered, trying to get free of the vines. The desperation in her voice caused Draco's penis to become painfully erect.
Once again, Draco forced the sensation of his own arousal into the Muggle boy and commanded him to rape the girl. Sally cried out in pain and fear as the boy violently acted out Draco's fantasy.
Draco's head began to spin. His lust clouded his mind and made him light headed. The Muggle girl's screams touched him deep inside.
Just as before, when the Muggle boy came, so did Draco. His hot seed spattered down his leg as the boy shot his into the girl.
Panting, Draco walked up to the slab and placed the tip of his wand at the boy's neck before silently incanting the Sectumsempra Curse. Sally screamed even more when the boy's blood sprayed on her face. Draco listened to her terror filled cries for a moment. Basking in them, letting them sink into his soul. He felt his organ begin to rise again in his trousers.
Draco repeated the vicious slicing curse on the girl and her cries stopped. He then restored the slab and trees back into a stone and twigs before Apparating back to his Master's castle, leaving the teens where they lay.
The next morning, Muggle police found the two teens' bodies in the forest with their throats slit. They assumed that the boy, fourteen year old Michael Jones, raped the girl, thirteen year old Sally Thomason. Then in a fit of rage and guilt, killed her and then committed suicide. Despite the fact that they could not find the murder weapon, the police believed it was a clear cut case and officially ended the investigation later that day.
Several hours after his two victims' bodies were discovered; Draco made sweet love with Pansy with the delicious sounds of Sally's screams filling his head.
x
x
Harry knew it was a dream, but he didn't care. As long as he was dreaming then he wasn't feeling the blade cut through his skin.
It was very similar to his previous dream, but instead of Remus and Moody saving him, it was McGonagall and Tonks. Just like the other dream, the voices didn't match the speakers; McGonagall spoke with Remus' voice and Tonks spoke in Moody's.
This time, when Bellatrix stormed in, Harry didn't just want to see her unconscious, he wanted to see her bleed. He leveled McGonagall's spare wand at Bellatrix's chest and screamed "SECTUMSEMPRA!"
Even though it was just a dream, Harry knew that it couldn't kill her; he was too weak to perform the curse properly. But it would cut her up, much like she had cut him up. A smile graced Harry's lips as the bitch fell to the floor, bleeding from dozens of slashes across her breasts and chest.
Something inside of Harry swelled with pride as he watched the bitch sob on the floor in pain, clutching her ruined bosom. Harry wanted to taste Bellatrix's lifeblood; he was suddenly curious to find out not only if it tasted good, but he wanted to find out if he could taste her agony as well.
As Bellatrix cried out in pain and twitched on the floor, Tonks turned Harry's slab into a Portkey and the three of them traveled to number twelve. The moment he arrived, both Hermione and Ginny threw their arms around him again. This time however, instead of kissing his cheeks, Ginny was kissing the scars on the sides of Harry's neck and Hermione was kissing the corner of his mouth. Her lips were warm and tasted like strawberries.
The thing inside Harry, the part that enjoyed seeing Bellatrix in pain, craved more, much more from Hermione and Ginny. Harry found himself wanting to take Ginny from behind and then eat Hermione's womanhood. But again, such thoughts weren't suitable, even in dreams, so Harry forced those feelings to the back of his mind. It was an odd and alien desire for Harry. Yes he did love Ginny and he wanted to do such things to her eventually, but Hermione was his friend and never had such obscene desires for her before.
Hermione and Ginny spent the next few days nursing Harry as he lie on his table in the nude. Ron appeared once more and asked for a game of chess.
As Ron set up the chess table, Hermione placed her hand on Harry's bare thigh while Ginny examined his scars.
While Harry watched Ron set up the table, Hermione slowly moved her hand up so that it was resting near Harry's genitals. He gasped in surprise as her fingers brushed up against his manhood. With a blush to her face, Hermione smiled at him.
"These are really beautiful," Ginny commented, tracing the scars. "If I ever meet Bella, I'll have to give her my compliments on a well done job."
Ron was even more brutal in his tactics than the first dream. He somehow crushed all of Harry pawns in just two turns. But once again, Ron openly asked what to do with his castle.
"Take out your own castle, Ron," Ginny offered. "No one would expect that."
As Ron's knight pummeled his own castle into rubble sending bits of the black stone that made up the castle tumbling across the board, Harry turned to Hermione and asked; "Doesn't it bother you to have your hand on me like that?"
Hermione smiled sweetly and her fingertips brushed up against his flaccid manhood.
"Harry, you're my friend and I love you," Hermione stated. "I'm just showing that love in a different way."
A sharp pain in his side brought Harry out of his dream and back to reality; a nightmare reality where Bellatrix torturously carved symbols into his flesh.
x
x
The first few days of Hermione's Ministry employment were very hectic. She was shocked to see that her new supervisor was the Order of the Phoenix member named Martha; the same Martha who was adamant about not letting Hermione join.
"The name's Patterson," Martha introduced herself as if she had never seen Hermione before. It was obvious that she was pretending to do so because she didn't want it known that she was an Order member. Hermione played along.
"I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced herself, holding out her hand to greet her supervisor.
"Your desk is over there." Martha refused the younger witch's hand and pointed to a tiny desk behind her. "That's Paul and Wanda," she added pointing to the wizard and witch at the other two desks. "If you have any questions, ask them. I'm too busy to deal with you."
Martha's distaste for Hermione was blatantly obvious by the tone of her voice. Hermione could tell that the witch wanted nothing to do with her much less be in the same room that she was in.
The middle aged witch walked over to Hermione's desk and tapped it with her wand.
"That will make sure you stay busy and not uselessly dawdle," Martha said.
Suddenly, dozens of folded paper airplanes glided into the office. Several landed on Paul and Wanda's desk, but the majority of them landed on Hermione's. She had gotten at least twice as much as her coworkers combined. Hermione opened one of the airplanes and discovered that they were reports of Muggles witnessing magic.
Her suspicion about Martha's attitude toward her was proven over the next few days when the older witch would come in and recast the spells to attract the paper airplanes on the desks. Paul and Wanda would get roughly half the amount of work Hermione got. She also noticed that Martha was rarely ever in the office outside of recasting the charms. Hermione's co-workers only spoke to her when she would ask them a direct question. To make matters worse, usually their answers were very curt and uninformative; as if her co-workers believed that Hermione wanted to steal their knowledge and use it for her own gain without giving either of them credit.
Despite the lack of support or training, Hermione learned her job relatively easily. Her duties consisted of investigating instances dealing with Muggles that had either witnessed or had been affected by magic. The paper airplanes that flew onto her desk came from the M. L. E. Floo call center — the position that Ginny was assigned to — and would often list alerts from magical citizens concerning Muggles and magic.
Most of the time, it was nothing but false alarms. One of the first alerts that Hermione had gotten dealt with a wizard who went wandering in a Muggle town and stumbled into a darkened auditorium where a number of Muggles were sitting watching a giant moving image on a large screen. The wizard had assumed that some witch or wizard had played a prank on those Muggles and demanded that the Ministry send over a team of Obliviators and alter their memories straight away. Hermione wrote a letter to the wizard explaining that he had walked into a cinema and that he shouldn't be concerned; it was a Muggle form of entertainment.
A number of the other alerts were simple things; such as a Muggle seeing a wizard flying on a broom or a witch Apparating away. In these circumstances, Hermione would forward the alert onto the Obliviators and they would dispatch a team to go and adjust the Muggle's memories.
But occasionally, an alert came to Hermione's desk about an attack. When this happened, Hermione was sent along with a group of M. L. E. officers, an Auror, and a group of Obliviators to the scene of the attack. The Auror and M. L. E. officers were sent in hopes of apprehending the Death Eaters. It was the job of the Obliviators to alter the memories of the Muggle victims, if any survived, as well as any witnesses; to remove any recollection of magic. Hermione's position in these field assignments was as a so-call Muggle Expert, helping the Obliviators and M. L. E.
On her first outing, a Muggle assaulted by a Death Eater, Hermione had to stop an overanxious M. L. E. officer from hexing a passing automobile. "That thing ate a Muggle," the officer protested. "I saw it!"
Hermione had spent the next five minutes trying to convince the officer that the Muggle wasn't eaten by the car, but, was instead, driving it.
It was during this first mission that Hermione met up with Susan Bones, her former classmate. It turned out that Susan had joined the Ministry shortly after leaving Hogwarts and was employed as an Obliviator. Hermione and Susan talked briefly while the M. L. E. searched for clues.
For the past week, Hermione had performed her duties of Muggle Relations a minimum of ten hours a day, from eight in the morning to six in the evening, while her co-workers put in no more than a seven hour day. But once she was done with her job, she would spend a few hours each night scouring though records, both current and past, concerning Death Eater activity. Thankfully her position allowed her access to a number of such records. After a few days, she had a mountain of notes and comments on Death Eater sightings and attacks. Unfortunately, all the information Hermione had collected appeared to be random; she couldn't detect any pattern or discern their base of operations.
On Thursday night, around quarter of ten, while Hermione was pouring through the day's files concerning Death Eaters, she suddenly remembered that Ron was scheduled to leave for training the next day. Hermione quickly shoved the reports back into their files and Apparated to the Burrow. Hermione entered the Weasley house to find Ginny about to enter the Floo.
"'Lo, Hermione," Ginny greeted her with a yawn. "Ron's in his room, I'm off to work. They've got me working the graveyard shift."
Hermione offered Ginny her apologies for such a lousy shift and walked up the stairs. She knocked on Ron's door.
"Come in," Ron said. Hermione could tell by the sound of his voice that he was nervous about heading off to training. She opened the door and Ron's mood lightened. "Hey 'Monie," the red head greeted her.
Hermione hated it when people called her that; in her mind, she saw such alterations as a mockery of her name. But judging by the worry in Ron's eyes over his impending training, Hermione decided not to lecture him and let it pass.
"How are you holding up?" Hermione asked and she sat next to him on his bed.
"Alright, I guess," he lied obviously. Hermione could tell that Ron was so nervous that he looked like he was going to be physically ill.
Hermione felt very bad for Ron's state; he was worried sick over the prospect of his training and it had been eating him up inside. Knowing him, Ron was more than likely thinking that he wasn't good enough and that he'd fail miserably. She should've helped him deal with his worries for the past week, but she was so busy with work and trying to find Harry, that she had forgotten about Ron. After all, the two of them were together now and Hermione rationalized that she ought to have been by Ron's side during this trying time for him. She held his hand in support and was taken back at how cold and clammy it was.
Ron squeezed her fingers as if he was a drowning man hanging onto a lifeline. He wanted to be a better wizard and not be bitter that his girlfriend wasn't with him this past week. After all, she had been searching for their friend. But deep down inside, he was upset that she wasn't there to support him as he reckoned a proper girlfriend should do. Ron pushed those negative feelings to the side; she was with him now and he appreciated the gesture.
He looked into her eyes and saw her worry and compassion. Hesitantly, Ron leaned in and kissed her lips. Their lips met and warmth filled his body. He continued the kiss and leaned his body into hers.
Hermione's heart fluttered with uncertainness as Ron's pressed his chest against her bosom. His kisses slowly became more passionate; more so then the two had done in the past. His tongue pushed against her lips as if he were demanding entrance. Hermione had never kissed in that manner and was fearful of it; would she do it wrong? Were they going too fast? But Hermione realized that she was being childish and selfish. She and Ron had been together for over two months now, and she decided she should give him some pleasure before he left.
The witch parted her lips to allow Ron access. The red head's tongue charged at the opening. He had been waiting like a good boyfriend for this to happen and now he was being rewarded for his patience. When he and Lavender had gotten together, they had wasted no time in reaching this point. He had been aggravated that Hermione had been hesitant to go even this far. But now she had overcome her reluctance and Ron happily plunged his tongue into her warm mouth.
Hermione tried to relax and flow with the moment, but it was rather difficult for her. Her muscles tensed up, her back became uncomfortably rigid and her jaw was open so wide that it started to hurt. Ron was shoving and pushing his tongue in every direction in her mouth, mashing into the insides of her cheeks and jostling her tongue this way and that. It was as if he was battling her for supremacy and dominance. But she forced herself to accept it; this was for Ron after all.
Ron's hand moved up her body like it was moving under some strange compulsion of its own and fondled her breast. Ron groaned into Hermione's mouth with pleasure at the sensation of having her pert mound in his palm.
A groan of discomfort and annoyance escaped Hermione's throat. Ron was squashing her breast much like one would squeeze the water out of a sponge. Not only was it somewhat painful, she had not wanted to go this far. This was for Ron; to make him feel comfortable and confident, but Ron just had to push past her boundaries. She reached up and withdrew his hand and set it on his lap but continued to let him kiss her aggressively.
'Damn it! This is my night! Why is she acting like a frightened little girl?' Ron wondered. The first night he was with Lavender, Ron had been allowed to play with her tits through her blouse as much as he wanted. But he and Hermione have been together for weeks now, and she still wasn't letting him touch her tit. It was stupid to just hold hands while snogging, he thought.
'Stop it mate,' Ron mentally chastised himself. 'She's just a little nervous is all, give her time.'
Ron realized that he needed to do this slowly, but not too slowly. Perhaps he could nudge her a little. He gently placed his hand on her knee and continued to kiss his girlfriend.
Hermione didn't mind having his hand on her knee; it actually felt nice and comfortable. But after a short while, that hand started to creep up her thigh, inch by inch. She was tempted to remove it, much like she had before, but she felt like she was being too prudish. Unfortunately, Ron mistook Hermione's acceptance of his hand on her thigh as an invitation to go further.
Ignoring his vow of giving Hermione time, Ron's hand slipped under her skirt in a rapid and swift motion. Lost in the moment, he allowed his fingers to hook around Hermione's knickers. She recoiled from him and slapped him across the face.
Hermione shot up and stormed out of his room and out of the house. Hermione was absolutely furious about Ron crossing the line while the young wizard was left wondering why she was sending him mixed messages.
x
x
After two weeks of checking on his Horcruxes that were hidden across the globe, Voldemort returned to his castle in a foul temper. He had been unable to locate Slytherin's locket or ring. He had to assume that they had been destroyed much like his diary was years before. In all, that meant he had lost three fragments of his soul.
The Dark Lord was in such a foul mood that he needed something to cheer him up and he knew just how to do it. But before he could entertain himself, he had to talk to someone.
Lord Voldemort knocked on his underling's door. When Draco opened it, the blond wizard almost soiled himself upon seeing his Master.
"My Lord," Draco greeted Voldemort and bowed.
Voldemort pushed passed Draco, and with Macnair following, the Dark Lord entered Draco's chambers. Pansy, who was sitting on Draco's cot, immediately fell to her knees and bowed to her Master.
"I need to speak to you, Draco, and to you as well, Pansy," began Voldemort in a friendly and casual tone.
Draco was flabbergasted, when the Dark Lord wanted to talk to someone, he would always call that person to his throne room. To have the Dark Lord call upon him in his personal quarters was a great honor.
"In a few weeks time, a very special mission will be conducted," Voldemort continued. "And I need both of you to join in that mission."
"Anything my Lord!" Draco almost fainted at the honor. Ever since he had returned bearing the sack full of reptilian scales, he had not gotten a chance to prove himself to his Master. The young wizard was itching to make himself worthy.
"It won't be easy and you might get hurt," warned Voldemort.
"We live for our Master," answered Draco, while Pansy nodded her head in agreement. "We will do anything you say."
"Very good," Voldemort said. "I can't go into too much detail at this time, but on this mission, you will assist me and my most elite Death Eaters directly."
"How can I assist you, sire?" Draco knew that he was nowhere near the skill level that Voldemort's elite were at and was curious as to what the Dark Lord wanted him to do.
"On the mission, I need both of you to pick out a certain type of person so that they can be brought back here."
"Wh-what type of person?" stammered Draco. He knew that it was unwise to ask the Dark Lord so many questions, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.
Voldemort simply replied, "Virgins."
Draco's mind wandered to the time he had that Muggle boy rape the virgin girl in the park. He remembered how much her fear, pain, and blood turned him on. His loins stirred at the memory.
Voldemort saw the look of lust in the boy's eyes. Using passive Legilimency, Voldemort saw the memory of the Muggle girl being raped flash in Draco's mind.
"Draco, I was so pleased with the mission you and Wormtail performed. The items you retrieved are of great value to me and I've decided to share something very important with you," added Voldemort. Draco forced the erotic memories to the back of his mind and focused on his Master. "I must warn you, this is a secret and I insist that you take an Unbreakable Vow before I proceed."
"Yes sire," Draco knelt as if in prayer to his Dark Lord.
"Very good," Voldemort stated and knelt in front of Draco. The two wizards clasped hands and Macnair muttered an incantation. A rope of fire sprang out of Macnair's wand and it wrapped around Draco and Voldemort's hands.
"You must not tell anyone what I am about to show you," began Voldemort.
"I swear," Draco replied. His heart was filled with so much joy that he thought it would burst. His Master thought that Draco was important enough to share this secret with him. This meant that he was no longer the lowly, insignificant cog.
"Not your mother, father, your friends or teammates," continued Voldemort, "and not Severus."
"No one, my liege," agreed Draco. The flames fused with the two wizards' flesh without burning them.
Voldemort repeated the ritual with Pansy.
"Thank you," Voldemort said as he stood, and helped Pansy stand.
"Thank you for trusting me, sire," Draco said with a smile.
"Thank you, Master," echoed Pansy.
"Follow me," ordered Voldemort, leading Draco, Pansy, and Macnair out of the chamber. The four walked through dozens of halls and Draco had lost track of where they were going quickly. Soon they arrived at a heavy door that was guarded by two Death Eaters. Voldemort opened this door and ushered Draco, Pansy, and Macnair into the cell.
Draco saw a man he knew as Smyth holding an old book in the corner of the room. He also saw his aunt, Bellatrix, leaning over a naked man lying on a slab. Draco could not see the man because Bellatrix was blocking Draco's view of his torso, face, and head, but he could see that the man had ugly fresh scars on his legs. The vicious scars appeared to be ritualistic in design. Pansy cruelly sniggered at the unknown person's exposed and naked shame.
"How are things proceeding, Bellatrix?" asked Voldemort.
Harry's blood chilled at the sound of Voldemort's voice. Bile flooded his throat and rage filled his mind. The Dark Lord was going to gloat over Harry while he was being tortured. Harry wanted to strangle the snake.
Bellatrix shot up and with a smile, replied, "Fantastic Master."
The silver dagger in her hand dripped blood. Draco saw that she had been carving runes and other symbols into the man's chest. Draco finally recognized the man on the slab. It was Potter!
Potter's skin had gone deathly pale. Draco could easily see that the half-blood's muscles had atrophied so much that he had begun to take on the appearance of a skeleton with skin. It was obvious that Potter wasn't even strong enough to lift his hand anymore, much less stand or walk.
The cuts that Bellatrix had just made were overlapping fresh scars. The combination of gashes and scars made a dizzying myriad of runes and designs that Draco couldn't make out.
"Your aunt does beautiful work, doesn't she Draco?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes, sire," the blond wizard replied.
"Please continue," requested Voldemort of Bellatrix.
With a wicked grin, Bellatrix went back to carving symbols and designs into Potter's chest. Voldemort's heart swelled with happiness at the suffering of the person who was responsible for making him exist as nothing more than a pitiful shade for thirteen years. Draco was completely mesmerized by the look in Potter's eyes; so full of lovely pain and hatred.
The anger Harry had felt when he destroyed Dumbledore's office at the end of his fifth year and the rage he felt after Snape murdered the Headmaster were nothing to what he was feeling at that moment laying on the slab. Voldemort and his goons, including Draco, were watching, as if at a Quidditch match, as Bellatrix continued the sadistic torture. Harry swore to himself that he would make them pay for their transgressions with their blood.
x
x
It was obvious with just one glance; many of the potions that Severus had made and stockpiled since arriving at his Master's castle were each missing a number of dosages.
When he was the Potion Master at Hogwarts, he had the liberty of keeping his creations under lock and key, where no one could even see them much less touch them without his consent. If someone had stolen his potions, Severus would've hunted the thief down like an animal.
But now that he was again working directly for the Dark Lord and brewing potions for him, Severus no longer had that right. Everything he made was for the Dark Lord now. And he could do what he wished with the potions with or without informing Severus.
x
x
Ron groggily stepped out of the bathroom and stumbled into the hall. He hadn't slept well after Hermione stormed out. And to add insult to injury, his balls were aching due to being teased so much by his girlfriend the night before.
"Morning Ron," Ginny greeted him as she trudged up the stairs. She yawned widely, obviously exhausted from her overnight shift. "How'd it go last night?"
Ron just grumbled angrily in response.
"Don't tell me you two didn't do the deed last night?" she asked.
"No," he rumbled.
"Why not?"
"I don't know," he snapped. "We were snogging and then she slapped me and ran out."
"Did you do something to upset her?"
"No, I just reached into her skirt," Ron said. "I dunno, maybe she was scared."
"Scared of what?" Ginny asked.
"We hadn't gone that far yet," Ron admitted.
"Wait a second. I know you two haven't had sex, but you're telling me you've never put your hand up her skirt before last night?" Ginny demanded.
"No," answered Ron. "I think she wants to take it slow."
"How long have you two been dating?"
"A while," Ron replied.
"For months now," Ginny corrected. "Ron, on my second date with Dean, I gave him a blow-job in a broom cupboard."
Ron recoiled away from his sister, scandalized.
"It's no big deal Ron," said Ginny, dismissing Ron's reaction. "I liked him and he liked me back. It was the natural thing to do. Has Hermione given you head at least?"
Ron remained silent.
"Has she even touched your willy?" Ginny pushed on.
"No," growled Ron Bitterly.
"For Merlin's sake Ron," exclaimed the young witch. "There's taking things slow and there's being just frigid."
Ron nodded his head. He had heard tales from his fellow classmates where they had gotten wanked off by a witch on their first date. And yet, Hermione still hadn't even touched his crotch, even after months of being together.
"I'll talk to her," offered Ginny, "see why she's so hesitant. There's got to be more to her hesitation besides wanting to take it slow."
"Thanks," Ron muttered. He hated to have his little sister help him, but he was growing desperate.
"Maybe I'll convince her to give you a little something when you get back from training," added Ginny. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you head off about now."
"Yeah," Ron moaned in apprehension.
"Don't worry," Ginny said with a smile. "I'll talk to Hermione. The next time you see her, she'll pop that bad-boy into her mouth," she said while pointing at Ron's groin.
"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed and blushed with embarrassment.
"If you're lucky, I'll convince her to swallow," she added with a mischievous smile.
Ron blushed even further, and Ginny gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Don't worry about it Ron," she comforted him. "Everything will be okay."
With his spirits lifted thanks to his sister, Ron walked down to the kitchen to join his parents. They had promised that they would go with him to the Ministry to see him off.
x
x
"How dare he?" Hermione fumed as she got ready for work the next morning. She had wanted to show him a little compassion, and the git took it as an invitation to shag. He had crossed the line!
But she realized that he had to have been nervous about his training. Hermione began to wonder if she should have been a little more forgiving last night. After all, it was the last time the two of them would be together for weeks. Hermione decided that she should at least smooth things over and talk with Ron before he left. She Apparated to the Burrow and knocked on the door.
"Hello Hermione," Ginny said as she opened the door. "You just missed Ron. Mum and Dad went with him to see him off."
"Damn," cursed Hermione.
"He looked a little upset before he left. Did you two have a fight or something last night?" asked Ginny.
"Yes," acknowledged Hermione. "I felt he crossed the line and I slapped him."
"What the hell did he do?" Ginny asked with worry and anger etched across her face.
"He tried to pull down my panties," Hermione admitted softly.
"That bastard," hissed Ginny. Tears began to well up in her eyes. "How could he do that?"
"It's okay, Ginny," Hermione said, consoling the younger witch. She had not expected Ginny to react in such a way when she told her what happened. "It had to be my fault. I must have sent him mixed messages or something."
"That isn't an excuse," Ginny snapped, the anger she felt toward her brother was evident in her eyes.
"It wasn't that big of a deal," Hermione explained. "I'm just not ready for that yet."
"That's exactly what makes it a big deal, Hermione," argued Ginny as a heavy tear fell. "There's nothing worse than when a wizard thinks he can push things when a witch isn't ready."
Behind Ginny's anger, Hermione heard a touch of sadness in her words. As if she knew first hand what it felt like being pushed.
"Ginny, what happened?" Hermione asked, putting her hand on the younger girl's.
"Oh Hermione," cried Ginny and tears spilled down her face. "When I was with Dean, he felt we weren't going fast enough…" she hiccupped, "…it was only our second date."
"What did he do?" Hermione demanded.
"He told me I had to go down on him or he'd tell everyone that I was a slut," she sobbed.
"That son of a…" cursed Hermione.
"It was awful," Ginny continued through her tears. "I didn't want to…. but he made me get on my knees and put… it in my mouth."
Ginny collapsed into Hermione's arms. The brunette witch held her like one would hold a hurt child.
"I'm so sorry, Ginny," Hermione said, her own tears streaming down her face in sympathy.
"You shouldn't be pressured into doing something you're not ready to do," Ginny said while hiccupping. "I don't care if he's my brother. If you're not ready, he should wait for you."
With her eyes red and swollen, Ginny looked at Hermione and pleaded with her, "Please don't let him pressure you. Promise me."
"I promise, sweetie," Hermione said and rubbed Ginny's back comfortingly. "I promise."
The two witches cried in each others arms for a good long while. After their tears had dried up, Hermione said, "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I didn't know you had problems with Dean."
"No one did," Ginny sniffed back a tear. "I acted like a good little girlfriend and did what he wanted. But after a while, he started to get bored with me and I was able to slowly pull away from him. The day before Harry first kissed me; Dean regained his interest and threatened me again. He wanted me to do something rather, well… disgusting with Seamus while he watched. Thankfully Harry made his move and Dean didn't dare threaten me any more. Harry saved me yet again – first from the basilisk and then from a perverted boy."
"Did you ever tell Harry about this?" Hermione asked.
"No, I was afraid that Harry would seek revenge and get in trouble," Ginny said sadly. "I really do miss him."
"So do I," Hermione agreed. She truly did miss him. Even with his mood swings and other faults, Harry was Hermione's best friend; even more than Ron ever was. Hermione missed talking with him, how she would lean in close to him and whisper something in his ear. But she also missed having him near her; whenever he was close she had always felt that he would protect her. She had lost count how many times something at school had frightened her and how she would grab onto Harry for support like she had when she had first seen Hippogriffs. Or how he would try and protect her, like during their first encounter with Grawp or even jumping on the Troll during their first year.
x
x
Shortly before lunch, Lord Voldemort strolled through his castle with warm feeling of happiness filling his body. Of course, when Voldemort was happy, that usually meant that people were suffering or about to die horribly.
He had received word from Yaxley that their "tall friends" were two weeks worth of travel away from the target. It was a slow process of only moving short distances at night and far from populated areas. They did not want to alert the Ministry of Magic to the presence of a large group of giants led by a team of Death Eaters. No, surprise was necessary for Voldemort's plan.
Voldemort had also just visited Ollivander in the workshop and was pleased to hear that the old man was nearly finished with the necessary amulets. Everything was moving along as designed. Soon, Voldemort's enemies would be brought to their knees.
To make his day complete, Voldemort decided to check on the progress of his future pet as well as to give Bellatrix some necessary items needed for the ritual. He silently entered Potter's cell. Unnoticed by Bellatrix and Smyth, he observed the witch as she worked.
She had informed him yesterday that she had completed the parts of the ritual preparation dealing with carving the runes and symbols in the boy's body. She was going to spend the rest of the time "checking" her work. Voldemort watched with fascination as Bellatrix ran the blade's tip through the boy's scars, reopening them. Blood swelled and flowed from the gashes. Potter was trying his best not to make any sounds of pain, but pitiful groaning escaped his lips. It was intoxicating for Voldemort.
"You are truly an artist, my dear Bella," Voldemort whispered in the evil witch's ear.
Warmth passed through her body at her Master's praise. A proud smile graced her lips as she blushed. "Thank you, my Lord."
"I've brought you the rune stones," he announced and placed a small leather bag that one might carry coins in on the slab next to Potter.
Bellatrix set down her knife and turned the bag over, spilling its contents on the slab. Fourteen half spheres tumbled out of the bag and came to rest next to Potter's thigh – each was nearly an inch in diameter. The witch picked up one of the spheres delicately, as if it needed to be cherished. The black object glistened in the torchlight. The runes were etched on the domed side of the half sphere. Bellatrix never studied runes, but according to the book that described the ritual, the runes included "strength,""power,""bravery,""loyalty,""force,""fear,"and"veneration".
While Bellatrix examined the tiny objects, Voldemort strolled to the head of the table. He loomed over the boy's face and smiled down at him.
"I was going to say 'this will hurt me more than it'll hurt you'," he said in his high, cold voice. "But that would be a lie."
Voldemort waved his wand over Harry's face. Suddenly, Harry's mouth was forced open, as if invisible hands pried his jaw apart. The Dark Lord pulled from out of his robes a vial containing some kind of purple liquid and forced the fluid down Potter's throat.
"Don't worry, Harry, this isn't the part that will hurt you," Voldemort said with fake concern. "The potion is harmless. It's often used by elderly wizards who want to satisfy their wives."
Harry couldn't help but to swallow the potion. It tingled as it slid down into his belly. In a few seconds, the tingling sensation traveled to the young wizard's groin. Slowly, Harry felt pressure build up in his loins.
Bellatrix smiled at Potter as she watched his manhood grow. For some men, when aroused, their length and girth may change only slightly from their flaccid to erect states. But with other men, their organ grows significantly. Potter was in the latter group. He wasn't the largest Bellatrix had seen, but the half-blood was impressive; significantly larger than average. Even though the thought of bedding Potter was repugnant to her because he was nothing more than an impure wizard, she had to admit she was impressed with his manhood. He was considerably larger than her husband in both length and girth. So much so that Bellatrix knew that the young witches that her Master would choose for his pet would be quite satisfied.
Harry was mortified and frightened at the same time. He tried to fight it, but whatever the potion was that Voldemort had given him, caused his penis to become fully and painfully erect. Even though the people in the room had seen him completely naked everyday since he was kidnapped, it was still embarrassing to be in an aroused state in front of them. But what frightened Harry was why they needed the young wizard to be erect. He was terrified that they were going to molest and rape him. Or worse yet; scarify his organ much like they had done to the rest of his body. The thought of Bellatrix's blade slicing through the sensitive skin of his manhood terrified Harry.
"I think you will want to watch this," Voldemort commented to Harry. "It should be interesting."
The snake-like wizard waved his wand once more and a large mirror appeared hovering in midair over Harry's prone body. The mirror was so long that Harry could now see his entire form. His body was ruined; his wasted form now resembled one of the poor souls from Auschwitz Harry had seen in his Muggle history books. Added to the shock of his devastated body were the many disturbing scars that covered most of his skin. Only his face, stomach, and groin remained untouched.
Bellatrix bent over Harry's groin and placed one of the rune covered half-spheres against the hyper sensitive flesh of his shaft. With her finger holding the rune to his organ, she then picked up her wand with her free hand. Bellatrix then tapped the sphere with her wand. A soft glow began to emanate from the stone rune. Bellatrix removed her finger, but the rune remained on Harry's skin, as if it was attached. A sudden and intense pain ripped through Harry's groin. It felt as if his penis was being cut open and twisted at the same time.
Smyth, who had been standing off to the side with the book in his hands as always, cringed at the sight before him. He knew that this would happen. The book had been very specific as to what would occur. But it still didn't prepare him for it when he actually saw it happen. Just the sight of Potter's penis being mangled by the rune-stone was enough to make Smyth cringe in pain.
After being tapped, the small, glowing black rune stone burrowed into Potter's flesh. Blood trickled down his shaft as the half-sphere cut open his skin and dug in and buried itself, like some sort of burrowing beetle.
Harry watched in pain and horror as the object buried itself under the skin of his organ. It took the object three seconds to disappear under the young wizard's flesh. The small gash in his flesh sealed up and a large bulge was now evident where the rune covered half-ball had come to rest under the skin of his member.
Harry was in agony. Even though he had been cut mercilessly over the past few weeks, his torturers had not touched his genitals. His skin on his manhood, as is every man's skin, was so sensitive that even the slightest injury would cause intense pain. Not only had the object tore his sensitive flesh, but it was now embedded under it, causing it to stretch painfully. Tears of pain flowed down his face.
"One down, thirteen to go," Voldemort said with cruelty.
Another scream erupted from Harry's throat as Bellatrix repeated the process with a second half-sphere. Smyth recoiled and felt sympathy for the boy for the first time since the preparation had begun. Voldemort smiled while the second rune covered object took its place under Potter's flesh, a few centimeters away from the first. Bellatrix shivered with sadistic joy.
Twenty agonizing minutes later, Harry's groin was coated with his own blood. He was trembling in pain; it felt as if his crotch was being crushed and ground into pulp. He stared in wide-eyed terror at his penis. Fourteen large bulges covered and marred his penis. They had been placed all over his shaft in a seemingly random pattern. Even through the blood that coated his organ, Harry could see a dark purple bruise rapidly developing over his stretched skin.
As the potion that Voldemort gave him started to wear off, Harry's penis slowly returned to its flaccid state. The objects under his skin collided and pushed into each other as his organ shrank, causing Harry even more pain. When he lost the erection completely, his organ looked to be mutilated and deformed.
"Pardon me, Master, may I be excused," Bellatrix said breathily. The excitement of today's session had made her dizzy with lust and she needed to calm herself.
"Of course," her Master said sweetly. "We are finished here for the day. You did a wonderful job, Bella. You made me proud."
"Thank you sire," Bellatrix bowed before walking out of the cell and heading straight for her private chambers.
"You may leave as well," Voldemort said to the sickly looking Smyth. The little wizard bowed nervously to his Master before scurrying to his chambers.
Voldemort left Potter in his cell and went to have his lunch.
Bellatrix wished that she could put rune stones into her husband Rodolphus' shaft much like she had done with Potter. Not only would her lover's pain be intoxicating as she forced the half-spheres into his manhood, but his performance afterwards would be exquisite. Those bumps and swells on his shaft would feel so good in her. The mere thought of such a thing made her wet with desire.
Whereas Bellatrix was pleasuring herself, Smyth fought the urge to throw up in his own chambers. The images of the boy's penis being mutilated haunted him.
In his cell, Harry wept as his body still burned in agony. He tried to block out the pain by thinking of what he would do to that vile fiend Voldemort and his bitch Bellatrix if he ever got free. The thought of the pain that he wanted to inflict on them dulled his own slightly.
To be continued…
Author's Note: just to reiterate, this story does have a slow build up.