The first part of the plan had gone off like clockwork. As we were shopping in Diagon Alley, unseen assailants had hit Moody and I with stunners. At least I hoped they'd hit him with a stunner as well. I woke up sprawled across the floor of Malfoy Manor's living room to the sight of Old Snake-Face himself grinning evilly and twirling my wand between his fingers. So far, so good.
Fighting the urge to empty my stomach contents on the same hated floor where Bellatrix had tortured me three years ago, I clambered slowly to my feet. I tasted blood in my mouth.
I said I silent prayer for Moody, and then focused on my current situation. I stood facing Voldemort, who watched me predatorily for a moment.
"It is customary to bow in the presence of your Lord," he spat in a high, cold voice.
"Fuck you," I replied calmly.
"Crucio!"
Moody had been right, the shield implant didn't do much about the pain. Nonetheless, my mind did seem a little clearer as I writhed on the floor. Would it seem suspicious if I gave up so early?
The curse lifted and I staggered to my feet. Voldemort turned to the assembled Death Eaters with a smirk, "You'll certainly have your hands full with this one, Dolohov."
My mind reeled and I almost fell over again. Dolohov?! Of all the Death Eaters… My side gave a twinge where I still bore a curse scar from that bastard.
Dolohov looked equally furious. He strode to the front of the group and knelt before Voldemort.
"Alright," came Voldemort's high, clear voice, "We have things to attend to. Get up and let's get this done."
"And you're sure she's Pure, my Lord?" Dolohov shot me a glare that clearly showed what he thought of that.
"Positive," said Voldemort in annoyance, "Take her arm."
"Now?"
"No, Tuesday. Yes, now Dolohov!" snapped Voldemort.
"My Lord, this is hardly the tradition of my house," Dolohov replied stiffly, sweeping a glance at me in my muggle jeans.
"Well you're not in Russia. And you should be thanking me for gifting you with a Pureblood bride. Of, course… if you are ungrateful for that which your Lord gives you-"
"Of course not, my Lord. I beg your pardon", Dolohov replied stiffly.
Before I could react, Dolohov grabbed my forearm just below the elbow. I tried to pull back, but his grip was unrelenting. "Take my arm or die," he growled.
With a deep breath, I grasped his forearm. A small, older man I didn't know stepped forward. He began speaking in Latin and tendrils of white light spread around our joined arms.
"Do you take this witch as your wife, to have and to hold, to protect and honor, until death do you part?"
"I do"
"Do you take this wizard as your husband, to have and to hold, to protect and honor, until death do you part?"
"I won't-" I blurted, but was cut off by Voldemort's wand at my neck. I squeaked, "I do," doing my best to look cowed.
"And do you consent to bind the magic of your house to house Dolohov forever?"
I froze for a second a Dolohov gave my arm a menacing squeeze.
"I do," I answered automatically, before I realized what had been asked. Oh Merlin, we hadn't thought of that part. Had I just created a house of Granger? What did it mean to bind houses? Were there any Death Eaters left of house Vance who would realize that their house's magic wasn't bound to house Dolohov?
"Very good, very good," crowed Voldemort, looking pleased with himself, "Now get on upstairs and start passing on the family name."
Dolohov, still not releasing my arm, turned on the spot, swinging me along with him. The high, cold laughter followed us out of the hall. Dolohov dragged me along by the arm, his grip bruising and rough. I was torn between sinking to the floor crying or launching myself on him and trying to claw his eyes out. Realistically, neither would help. Instead, I tried to take deep breaths and stay calm as I stumbled along in his wake. He disapparated just outside the door, I felt my stomach revolt at the unexpected Side-Along apparition.
As I fought the urge to vomit, Dolohov dragged me inside the door of wherever we'd landed. The set of his shoulders radiated fury as he yanked me up a sweeping, ornate staircase. At the top, he wrenched a door open and hurled me into another room. I flew across the thick, persian carpet and fell face first onto the bed.
I recoiled from the bed as if it were on fire and jumped to my feet, facing him. When I'd imagined this moment I had imagined myself calm, resolved, maybe even a little seductive. In reality, all I could do was tremble before him. I saw him in my mind's eye, wild and terrible as he'd been on the day he'd cursed me in the Ministry. Images raced through my mind of all the awful things he could do me, alone in his bedroom, legally and magically in his power. In that moment, all plans flew from my mind and I only knew that I wouldn't let either of those things happen again. I settled instinctively into a fighting stance, forgetting I had no wand to draw.
To my surprise, Dolohov's eyes crinkled. If he'd been anyone else I'd have thought him to be smiling.
"Oh, you are a hellcat," He rumbled in his thick Russian accent. His eyebrows quickly descended and he looked annoyed. "We will not be fighting tonight, I do not take women against their will. I am from an honorable house."
I snorted. I knew all about that sort of 'honor'.
"I am serious, little one," he growled, "You are my wife. I will do you no injury."
I continued glaring at him, not relaxing an inch. He'd already done me more than enough injury. Dolohov threw his arms up in annoyance, and to my surprise stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. I ran to the bedroom door and tried to open it, without any real hope of success. As I ran over to check the window, I heard the shower start. I wrenched the latch but it didn't move. I stood for a moment with my hand on the window, chest heaving and panic threatening to overwhelm me. I leaned my head against the cool glass and tried to slow my breathing.
This is the plan, Hermione. I reminded myself. Whatever happens here in this room tonight is still on the plan. I like plans, I've never been able to resist. I cling fiercely to them in times of stress, and this was no exception.
Get kidnapped- Check. Get married to a Death Eater- Check. Unfortunate it's Dolohov, but the plan didn't specify which. Get intel by sleeping with the enemy as much as possible-Still to do. Okay, Hermione, you've got this. Just follow the plan
Of course, this was still the easy part. Getting married to Dolohov was just my 'in' to Death Eater society. He was far from the only one I'd need to get information from. I still hadn't really worked out how to do that without getting ripped to pieces in the process. I sat down on the bed, ready for a fight when Dolohov came out, but I guess the adrenaline high finally caught up with me. Without realizing it, I slipped into a dreamless sleep.
