Chapter Four

Tortured

iOh God./i

Hermione's heart was in her throat as they entered the gates to Malfoy Manor. She was too far away from Harry and Ron. She was being led by one of the Snatcher's who was breathing heavily on her neck as he forced her forwards. She felt sick from the putrid stink of his breath, felt sick because of where she was… and because she could guess what was about to happen.

The grandness of Malfoy Manor wasn't lost on her as she struggled against her assailant, but then, she wasn't surprised. Malfoy had always been a snob, a spoilt little rich boy and a brat. It didn't surprise her that his home looked like this.

The man who had his arm wrapped around her shoulders was fighting against her, trying to grope her breast as she struggled against him. His horrible breath hit her nose again as he chuckled darkly.

Then she heard a walloping noise.

She turned, looking up at the Snatcher beside them. Her Snatcher, the one who had taken an unnatural interest in her it seemed. But whatever interest he had in her, it not enough to save her. Not enough to save her, or the others.

"Oi! They ent to play with." The Snatcher snapped at the one who held her, his grip having loosened instantly. She almost wanted to scoff at him, if she wasn't so frightened of what he might do.

His eyes were blazing, angry as he glowered at her captor. Suddenly he grabbed her sleeve and she was tugged forcefully into his grip. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him for a second, before he turned her around. He was holding a fistful of her jumper at her shoulder, and he pushed at her, almost gently, to keep her moving forward.

Light spilled out over them as the large double-doors were opened.

"What is this?" A woman's cold voice, but Hermione couldn't see it's owner from where she stood. Involuntarily, she took a step back, pressing against the Snatcher's body for a moment before she caught herself, straightening again.

Merlin.

He looked down at the young woman in his grip. She was scared, he could practically itaste/i the fear coming off of her in waves. And he was seriously beginning to regret his decision.

When that idiot had tried to fondle at her, a rage inside him had risen up. One he hadn't been aware of mere seconds before.

iIt was nothing really. It's just because you caught her. She's yours. You don't want others touching your prey… that's all./i

But despite what he told himself, he couldn't ignore the fact that he'd been looking at her the whole way over to the Manor. Every few seconds he had caught glances, studying her and trying to think of some way he could take her as his rather than hand her over.

He'd get far more for her in one piece. And where they were headed he couldn't even guarantee that he'd get her back alive.

When Narcissa had spoken to Greyback, the fear must have over taken her. Because at that moment, his eyes had been firmly fixed on the woman who lived inside that grand, beautiful building. And Merlin, he would do anything to live in a place like that.

But as he'd been looking at the woman in front of him, his eyes off the girl for once, she had stepped back, pressing into him.

He felt his groin hitch as her body pressed against him, but something else as well. He looked down at her, took in the fear, took in how small she looked around all the other men. And then he watched, she seemed to realise what she was doing, and silently scolded herself. Had he been alone, he would have chuckled. But being where he was, in that situation, there was no humour inside him. Just a feeling of dread that he didn't understand.

"We're here to see He Who Must Not Be Named!" Greyback rasped at the woman Hermione couldn't see. She understood that neither Greyback nor these Snatchers had be igraced/i with Voldemort's highest privilege, the Dark Mark. They might work for him, but they weren't in his inner-circle. They weren't actually Death Eaters.

iNot that it matters./i She argued back at herself.

Because what did it matter who they were? They were there now. And there was no escape once they entered that mansion. It would all be over.

"Who are you?"

Hermione's heart dared to leap, hoping against hope that the woman would dismiss them.

But as the man in front of her shifted to the side, as the Snatcher behind her pushed her forward, she saw the owner of the voice; Narcissa Malfoy.

"You know me!" There was resentment in he werewolf's voice, "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!" Hermione was forced back, into the body of the Snatcher once more as Greyback forced Harry in front of Narcissa.

She couldn't stop the small gasp of surprise that left her throat as she fell into the firm body of the Snatcher. He held her to him, both hands grabbing the clothing at her shoulders this time.

And she almost felt like she was being held against him to protect her, to keep her from being noticed. To keep Greyback from remembering that she existed.

But that idea soon shattered when the man behind her spoke.

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" She closed her eyes for a second, wanting to kick at the man behind her. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl?" Hermione's eyes flew wide as he pushed her towards her slightly. "The Mudblood who's been travelling around with 'im, ma'am."

She stood, silently seething. Hating him for all he had done, but also hating herself for having thought for even that second that he might have been protecting her.

"There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am-"

Hermione felt him take a hand from her shoulder for a moment, his grip on her other one tightening as she struggled. He thrust the blackthorn wand at Narcissa, her eyebrows rising, before his hand returned to her shoulder.

Hermione cried out slightly as she was forced up broad stone steps, caught before she stumbled, by the Snatcher holding her clothes. He lifted her slightly, as she found her feet, before pushing her onwards into a hallway lined with portraits.

Fuck.

He hadn't wanted to draw attention to the girl, but when the Malfoy bird had look so eager to dismiss them, he had opened his mouth. Words had flown out before he thought them through.

If she was the Mudblood though, he might still get a hefty award from this lot. Perhaps he didn't need to take her on to the Ministry? He looked away from her after catching her as she slipped on the steps. He had to stop thinking of her as anything more than a pay cheque. He would be getting rid of her one way or another after all.

She had been the one to dismiss him. The one to believe he was as monstrous as someone such as Greyback. So what did it matter to him if he handed her over? She had her own idea of what he was like. He may as well live up to it.

"Follow me." Narcissa was leading them across the hall. All Hermione could hope, was that her spell would hold and that they would send all three of them on to the ministry as they would have done with any others the Snatchers caught. No one there would know for sure. Not if Voldemort wasn't there, and Harry had been so sure that he was abroad, searching for the wand.

"My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

iShit!/i

Oh shit, oh shit oh shit!

That cowardly idiot, Draco Malfoy, was going to be the death of them all!

Hermione's heart pounded as she tried to think it through. No. There was still a possibility that they could escape this. Harry had been so sure the night Dumbledore had died, that Malfoy had been lowering his wand. Perhaps there was still a chance, however small, to escape this.

Her heart beat furiously inside her chest as they entered a large, grand room. The drawing room was dazzling, after the darkness outside. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the dark purple walls. Two figures rose from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace as they were forced into the room by the Snatchers

"What is this?"

Scabior could almost feel her shaking under his grip, as he held her shoulders. She stood still now, taking in her situation.

"They say they've got Potter." The Malfoy woman's voice was cold. "Draco, come here."

Hermione tried to still herself. She knew she was shaking and was annoyed at herself for it. But she was terrified for Harry.

The Malfoys all stood, Draco looking pale and frightened. Narcissa held the same look she always did, the one Harry had once described as having dung under her nose. Lucius was the one that frightened her the most out of the three of them. He looked dark and disheveled, something she had never seen from him before. She had never seen him look anything but royal and regal and rich. Now he looked as though he would fit in well with the Snatchers.

"Well boy?" The werewolf rasped at Draco as her Snatcher stepped back slightly, pulling her with him. Perhaps he thought she would struggle free, make a bid for escape without her friends?

He was wrong.

"Well Draco?" Lucius Malfoy pressed his son fervently. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Hermione stood silently, her heart beat resounding in her head as she waited with baited breath.

"I can't- I can't be sure." Hermione let out a small breath of relief at Draco's reply. iThank Merlin!/i

She noticed Draco was keeping his distance from Greyback, but also that he seemed to be scared of looking at Harry.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" Jeeesh, that Malfoy didn't wana quit, did he. He sounded sickeningly excited. Despite the fact that when the pale lad had said he couldn't be sure if the lad they had caught was Potter, he had the image of all those Galleons disappear from his head, he also felt a small stab of relief.

Was it because he knew they would harm her? This Mudblood that he had in his grasp? Surely it only worried him because he would get less money for her if she was injured? At least they would have no reason to kill her if that guy wasn't Potter.

But Lucius Malfoy was pushing his son.

"…If we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-"

"Now we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr Malfoy?" Greyback sneered, menacingly.

"Of course not, of course not!" Lucius replied impatiently. But Scabior had the horrible idea that he was lying, that, if they were not careful, they would not be rewarded for their snatching after all.

"What did you do to him?" Lucius asked Greyback. Hermione felt sick. "How did he get into this state?"

"That wasn't us."

No. No of course it wasn't. It was her. She shifted in the Snatcher's hold uncomfortably.

"Looks more like a stinging jinx to me." Lucius stated, and Hermione couldn't breathe. "There's something there," his whisper made her blood freeze. "It could be the scar stretched tight… Draco come here, look properly! What do you think?"

iNo./i

iNo, no, no, no, NO!/i

Had it all been for nothing? Had the past few months been pointless? Was Harry going to be turned over here and now?

She watched Draco silently, willing him not to hand him over. Lie. Lie damn it Draco! Do something worthwhile for ionce/i in your damned life! She saw the reluctance in his face, and the fear.

"I don't know." And Hermione could actually ihug/i him! He walked away this time, towards the fireplace where his mother stood watching.

The mummy's boy had had enough it seemed. Scabior had seen how scared he was; looking at the swollen face of what might be Harry potter. And Scabior was sure that it was. He had been sure since he had studied his swollen face in the forest. But he wasn't going to argue, not if it meant he could leave with the three of them and still make his money's worth out of them.

No matter how much he might have gotten for Potter, he was sure he'd make far more for the three of them in one piece. Because he knew, the moment he'd heard Lucius lie to Greyback, they had no intention of telling their boss who caught him. They would get money for Potter, if they were lucky. But the blood traitor and the Mudblood would be tortured and/or killed. They would get nothing for them.

Scabior would rather take his chance with all three of them, rather than rest his next month's food bill on the head of this one guy who could be Harry Potter.

"We had better be certain Lucius."

Aw bloody 'ell!

The Malfoy bird was still chiming on about it. For fuck sake. "Completely certain that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord…"

So they still intended on calling him, did they?

"They say this is his…" She looked closely at the blackthorn wand he had handed to her. "But it does not resemble Ollivander's description… If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

"What about the Mudblood then?" And Scabior couldn't help himself. His head whipped around at the same time as the girl he held in his grasp. Wandlight shone down on her and he saw her squint as the Malfoy bird moved closer.

Shit.

"Wait," Narcissa snapped sharply. And Hermione felt her blood turn cold. "Yes- yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Propher! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

Hermione looked out at him with wide, fearful eyes. A look she had hoped he would never see from her. But he was almost mirroring her. His eyes were full of fear, full of reluctance and he could barely look her in the eye.

"I… maybe… yeah."

Hermione felt her heart sink. It was over. It was all over with that one admittance.

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" Shouted Lucius, striding over to face Ron. "It's them, Potter's friends- Draco look at him, isn't it Arthuer Weasley's son, what's his name-?"

"Yeah." Draco replied almost instantly this time, much less hesitation and reluctance in his voice. He had his back to them now. "It could be."

Suddenly the drawing-room door opened behind them.

The coil of fear inside her wound even tighter at the sound of the woman's name and then the sound of her voice.

"What is it? What's happened, Cissy?" Bellatrix Lestrange walked slowly past her and the Snatcher, ignoring him completely. But Bellatrix's eyes were glued to her.

"But surely," she said quietly, "this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

"Lestrange."

The Snatcher holding her nodded at her, she felt it, but Hermione didn't turn to witness it. Hermione tried not to shake beneath her cruel, dark gaze but felt the Snatcher's grip tighten on his handfuls of her clothing.

"But surely," she said quietly, ignoring the Snatcher. "This is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

Her eyes were dark and full of malice. Hermione could see the insanity in them.

"Yes, yes it's Granger!" Cried Lucius. "And we think this is Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"

Hermione felt her last shreds of hope beginning to disappear.

"Potter?" Lestrange shrieked and turned her attention back to the disfigured fella they had captured. Scabior loosened his grip on the girl slightly, realising he had tightened it whilst she was under Lestrange's gaze.

Both Lestrange and Mr Malfoy began to argue over who should call the Dark Lord, but Scabior was more concerned about the look Lestrange had given the innocent girl he held. It had been so dark, so full of malice and disdain. Perhaps he would still get the chance to take her. Perhaps they would have no need of her and he would be free to exchange her for Galleons at the Ministry?

"Begging your pardon, iMr/i Malfoy," Scabior turned at Greyback's interruption. "But it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold-"

"Gold!" Lestrange laughed, still trying to throw off Mr Malfoy. Her free hand was groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honour of his- of-"

She stropped struggling, her eyes fixed on one of Scabior's men. So it was all becoming clear that there was no way they were going to get their payment here. He cursed silently, wishing he'd just taken them to the Ministry.

"STOP!" Bellatrix's shriek made Hermione jump, as she turned to Lucius Malfoy. His hand pulling up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his arm. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

iOh God./i

Hermione had no idea why Bellatrix was suddenly so afraid. She couldn't see what the woman was looking at. But for Bellatrix Lestrange to be fearful, it meant something seriously bad had or was happening.

"What is that?" Hermione watched as she stormed over to one of the Snatchers. That was when he held the sword out from behind his back. Oh Merlin no! They had Godric Gryffindor's sword!

"Sword." One of Scabior's men replied. He was confused as to why the thing was causing such a panic. He knew the woman was reputed to be nuts, but seriously! It was just a sword!

"Give it to me."

And Scabior felt like smacking his hand to his head at the stupidity of the other Snatcher.

"It's not yorn, Missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the girl unwittingly leapt back into him in surprise. Scabior straightened her hurriedly before looking up to see the Snatcher had been stunned. There was a roar of anger from the other Snatchers as Scabior let go of one of the girl's shoulders to draw his wand.

He shoved her sideways into another, younger Snatcher, who grabbed her as she struggled.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?" He snarled angrily at her.

"Stupefy," she screamed at him. "Stupefy!"

Hermione tried to keep her head down, but glanced up to watched what was happening. The Snatchers had turned on her, but there were not enough of them, and they were no match for her. She was a dangerous witch with prodigious skill and no conscious. She took pleasure in torturing, maiming and killing.

"Are you mad?"

Hermione found her eyes rested on those of the Snatcher who had captured her days before. He turned, firing at Bellatrix but was hit by black whip she had hit some of the other Snatchers with. For some reason her heart pounded harder, as his body crashed to the floor. She just had no idea why. It wasn't as though he had helped her in any way before now.

"Get out! Get out!" Bellatrix shrieked at both Scabior and Greyback, who was staggering around like an idiot, clutching his throat. Scabior rubbed his hand across his, taking one last look at the young woman he had dragged into this mess. She was staring back at him, her eyes wide and fearful and filled with something else. Something he couldn't quite place.

Concern.

It had been concern that had shimmered in those wide, chocolate eyes of hers. She had been concerned for him.

And Merlin it made no sense to him why she should feel like that. And it made no sense why ihe/i should be feeling that way now.

He couldn't deny it. As he stormed about the corridor, the echo of Lestrange's shouts and his prey's screams, reached his ears.

They pounded in his head, telling him he was to blame. And he knew it. He wasn't an idiot… Or maybe he was, because since when should he ever care like this about what happened to his pay cheque? Perhaps it was just because he hadn't been paid yet? Yeah… that must've been it.

But as he stood, his back against the cold stone walls, he could deny how thoroughly shit he felt, or how much hearing her tortured screams was bothering him.

"Fuck!"

His shout echoed down the empty corridor, waking an old, angry Pureblood in a painting at the end of it. He kicked the wall, hearing a pompous remark about having some 'filthy ruffian kicking at his castle… how he was not worthy to be spat on by the likes of the Malfoys… he had no right to…'

And Scabior pressed his head against the wall trying to block it all out.

The painting's words; because he knew what he was. He never doubted it, never tried to convince himself he was better, because he knew it wasn't true.

Tried to block out the insane woman's yells; because they were making his head pound. Reminded him of the welt he now had on his back where her whip had hit him, before tangling round his neck.

Tried to block out those screams; because he knew it was his fault. Knew he was the scum of the earth, and right now he was okay with being told it. Okay with the beating Lestrange had given him, because right now, with those echoing screams resounding in his head, he knew he thoroughly deserved it.

Hermione had never been so scared in her life, when Bellatrix demanded that Harry and Ron be taken down to the cellar. Being wandless and unprotected, Hermione was on the floor quicker than she could believe, her body racked in pain.

"Where did you get this sword?|

And before Hermione would have liked, she was sobbing. She refused to admit the truth. She would never betray Harry and Ron. She would never… But the scream that left her lips echoed around the room.

She could almost feel Lucius's smirk on her. Imagined that Draco was probably turned away, facing the empty fireplace, trying to pretend nothing was happening. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't. She couldn't ignore the pain of the Cruciatus curse as she was hit with it again. She couldn't ignore the blazing pain in her arm, as Bellatrix began to slice and burn into it with her wand.

And as much as she hated herself for it, she couldn't ignore the gut-wrenching realisation that no one was coming for her. The boys were locked in the cellar, unable to come to her rescue.

She was alone.

It happened in a whir.

Scabior had been storming towards the drawing room, angry and determined to get his Mudblood back. Not to keep of course. Only to exchange for the galleons he so desperately needed to survive the next month. He had been nearing the bottom of the staircase, about to enter through the opposite end of the drawing-room to what they had previously entered, when he stopped stock-still. He heard a noise, coming from just outside the drawing room.

He almost chuckled to himself. It seemed the boys had escaped the cellar, and instead of running for it, they were heading towards the drawing-room to rescue the girl. He smirked, knowing they would fail.

As the two lads stood before the drawing-room door, which stood ajar, Scabior strained his ears to hear what was happening in the room beyond.

"I think…" It was Lestrange's voice, still louder than it needed to be. "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback can have her, if he wants?"

"Noooooo!" Scabior stuck his head around the edge of the staircase to see the ginger blood traitor rushing through the door. He smirked to himself as the 'would-be-Potter' ran into the room after him.

He heard the commotion of fighting and dueling within as he crept to the door, eager not to rush in to meet his death.

Hermione barely heard Bellatrix's voice as she lay on the ground. Her throat burned from screaming, but not as much as her body did. She hurt all over. She had never felt such pain before. Now she knew why wizards feared the Cruciatus Curse so much, why they feared iBellatrix Lestrange/i so much!

Her head was light, slow tears running down her face as she turned her head- her body screaming in pain at the one simple movement. She looked down at her arm but couldn't let out a sob at what she saw. She merely let the tears flow.

iMudblood./i

Her bloodied up arm stung so she avoided moving it. She didn't move any part of her body, even at the sound of Greyback's name. She wouldn't give them reason to punish her further. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her mouth shut. And by God she wanted to. She never, iever/i wanted to betray Harry. She refused to do it.

And it confused her as she lay there, considering what may be her last few moments, when her mind came to rest on the look the Snatcher had given her, before he walked away. Of all things to think of, of all things to pique her curiosity… that was not one she should be considering in her last moments.

Had she had the energy, she might have sighed. Might have scolded herself for the ridiculousness of it. But she couldn't deny that last glance from him had confused her and hit her down to the very core.

He had looked scared for her.

The quiet suddenly broke and Hermione tried to look up at the yelling that came from the door behind her. Unfortunately she was forced up from her position on the floor, her head so light that her world span. She felt horrifically sick but fought to ignore it when she saw Harry and Ron were dueling against the Malfoys.

That was when she felt it, the cold blade pressing at her neck.

"S-stop!" She cried out.

"Drop your wands!" Bellatrix hissed from behind her. "Drop 'em!"

Scabior crept to the door, looking through it at the chaos within. Lestrange was holding the woman he'd snatched from the forest. She was holding a blade to the girl's neck, warning the boys to stay back, to drop their wands.

But Scabior followed the girl's gaze, her eyes looking slightly out of focus. He saw the House-Elf on the chandelier, long before Bellatrix noticed. He presumed that had been how the boys had made their escape from the cellar. He smirked, taking his chance and pelted into the room.

As the chandelier fell, Scabior passed the ginger one and shoved him out of the way. He caught the girl, who'd been dropped by Lestrange in her bid to escape the fall of the chandelier. Before he could give the red head a chance to raise his wand he wrapped his arm around the girl, vaguely aware that she was screaming.

Her world tilted as Belltrix dropped her. She raised one of her arms to protect herself from the falling debris, the other waited to take the force of her fall. And then someone caught her. She looked up, expecting Ron's warm eyes, not the piercing ones that stared back. The Snatcher had caught her. Her world span as he righted her, her head too light as she made an attempt to struggle. But his arm wrapped around her, his hand grasping her arm, the one she had raised to protect her head, her injured arm.

His hold on her was tightening around her arm, causing immense pain. She stopped struggling; unable to stand the pain he was causing her, even without her struggling to exacerbate it. And then she felt it, she screamed as the pain in her arm increased; they were apparating.

Her head span.

iNo./i

As the feeling of apparition began, making her feel pushed through a small tunnel, the force of the apparition made her arm feel like both she and the Snatcher were being pushed into it. And for all she knew they were. As they squeezed together, her the pain reached new heights. She was vaguely aware that someone was screaming. But instead of reappearing somewhere new, all she saw was darkness closing in on her.

The piercing eyes of that Snatcher were the last thing she saw before the darkness completely over took her.

Scabior came to a sudden stop inside his room, scrambling slightly to catch what was now a limp, unconscious form within his arms. He looked down at her, long dark lashes rimmed those chocolate eyes that were closed to the world. And then he realised his hand was wet.

He looked down at it.

Blood.

He hurriedly grabbed at the arm he had dropped in order to catch her motionless body. Sure enough, there, on her arm, was the smudged outline of a bleeding wound.

One that read; Mudblood.

A/N: You can find further chapters to this fic on adultfanfiction . net My penname is Vixen. You can either search for my pen name, or use the search tab to search for this fic under Hunted. _
Thanks so much for all the encouraging messages. J Hope you're enjoying it!

Vixen