Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places nor any other contributing factor in Harry Potter. I'm not that lucky.
A/N: Sorry it took a few extra weeks to post this chapter. Real life hasn't been kind to me as of late. Thanks for sticking in there. Also, 500+ hits on this story and 13 reviews (and I LOVE my reviewers) … Review please, especially if you're just lurking in the shadows. I'd love to see if you actually enjoy the story (well, as much as you can enjoy torture, that is).
Chapter Three
I screamed. I'm not sure if it was because I was dreaming or if it was because I was in the hands of the cruelest men in Great Britain, but I was sure it was because an ice cold bucket of water happened to find itself on my head and in my lap. I awoke then, back to reality I came. The water was frigid, well below freezing and I hurriedly pushed the puddle from my lap. I gasped from the cold.
"Really now, Lucius, was that necessary? You've drenched the floor," came Snape's smooth voice. I heard an appreciative giggle above my head and I tried to not to turn toward the sound.
"She'd been out too long. Besides, the stench on her was beginning to nauseate me," Malfoy sneered. I bowed my head in humiliation. It wasn't my fault I had been locked up for however long with no loo, no shower and bleeding … Suddenly, my head was yanked back by someone grabbing my hair. I yelped in pain as my heart began to pound again. Malfoy grinned down at me, his smiling face had a madman's look to it. "Do you suppose, Severus, that we could have fun with this one?" He asked. My body began to shake as he pulled harder.
"No, Lucius. I already have to punish one imbecile for violating her. Don't make me do it again," Snape said, amusement present in his voice. Malfoy turned quickly toward him and glared.
"The Dark Lord would have your balls if you did anything to me, Severus," Lucius threatened. My eyes swiveled toward Snape and was surprised to see that hatred replaced the amusement.
"Perhaps, but he'd have your head," Snape promised. "Vrandy didn't cum in her, Lucius. She's still valuable to the Dark Lord." Malfoy gritted his teeth at Snape's words.
"You mean to you," Malfoy accused, pushing my head and standing up straight. I pushed my body away from Malfoy, the stab wound in my leg yelling at me to stop the effort. I didn't care, though. I swept the pain aside as Malfoy and Snape drew their wands. Snape took a step toward Malfoy.
"If I am chosen to do His bidding, Lucius, then yes, she's valuable to me, as well." There was venom in Snape's voice as he said those words. Anyone I knew, especially if he had that tone in class, would cringe and escape to the nearest exit. Malfoy, however, did no such thing; Snape didn't seem surprised.
"You are not the favorite, Severusssss," Malfoy drew Snape's name out in a cringe-and-duck-in-a-corner sort of way. All Snape did was glare.
"I never said I was, Lucius, however, I seem to be the most competent," Snape snarled. Malfoy hoisted his head high as he raised his wand an inch.
"I can put a bastard on the bitch, Snape!" Malfoy roared. I trembled. That's what this was all about … a child … with me? I couldn't fathom as to why they would want a child with … with me? I scooted closer to the farthest corner of the massive room. Snape smirked.
"Of course you can," Snape cooed him, put his hands behind his back and stalked toward the back of the couch. "But …" At that moment, the flames in the fireplace turned green and roared high into the chimney.
"Snape … Malfoy … Our Master wants both of you in his presence. And bring the girl. Make sure she's … presentable." I couldn't tell who it was in the fireplace, the voice was unrecognizable, but his intent was not. Was this the part of the nightmare where the bad guy had the good guy in captivity so long that the bad guy would enjoy killing/torturing/raping the good guy? I shrank back as Malfoy approached me with the most gruesome of satanic smiles.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he murmured, grasping my forearm and picking me up forcibly. "Izzy!" A poorly dressed, malnutritioned house elf popped into the room, but did not hesitate to shrink from her master.
"Izzy is here doing your wishing, sir," she stumbled. Malfoy dragged me along the floor and approached the frightened slave. SPEW instantly came to mind and I smirked grimly at the thought of my best friends' horrid nickname for my house elf movement.
"Is the bath ready yet?" he snarled. The elf nodded and squeaked as Malfoy kicked at her. "Well?" She disappeared and instantly reappeared with ten other equally malnutritioned and poorly dressed house elves. I nearly melted at the sight of the bronze-colored, claw-footed bath tub, gentle waves of steam floating from the top. I glanced at Snape, who had lowered his wand arm but was, no doubt, ready to duel if the opportunity arose. He didn't look at me, didn't look as if he cared about what was to happen to me; he just kept his gaze focused on Malfoy. I turned back toward Malfoy as the house elves began to pop away. Izzy, the last to go, looked at me with an expression that said, "Izzy is sorry to be doing this to miss." As soon as the house elf went, Malfoy grabbed my hair and made me stand up. I yelped, grabbed his hands with mind and tried, with the little strength I had, to pinch my nails into his skin. It was a good try, I told myself, but I could tell that it made little difference to Malfoy; either he was used to nail-to-skin contact or my strength storage unit was seriously depleted. I opted for both explanations when he began, using his free hand, to rip my already worn clothing from my body. I shrieked and tried to get away from him. It was no use; he pulled harder, ripping some strands of my hair from my scalp.
"Stop it, Mudblood, or I'll make this even more unbearable for you," Malfoy mumbled in my ear, his eyes never leaving Snape's face. Snape's eyes never left Malfoy's, even as he continued to undress me. It was easy for Malfoy to discard the nasty clothing, but nasty or not, it was safe to me. Soon, I stood naked in front of my ex-Potions professor and my enemy's mentally ill father. It was a dreadful feeling, especially as Malfoy's hand snaked its way around my now-bony middle and grabbed my breast. I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay.
"Lucius …." Snape said in a slow, deadly voice. Malfoy let go of my breast at once, but his maniacal laughter floated thickly through the air. He didn't respond to Snape's threatening slither, but picked up my fighting body, took a step or two toward the tub and dropped me in. My mind was blank when my skin hit the water, but then I felt my flesh burning as I quickly resurfaced and tried to scramble out of the scalding water. I screamed when Malfoy shoved me back in the water. Tears poured down my face as I attempted to get out of the burning water again.
"Please!" I screamed as he pushed me in again.
"Sorry, Mudblood. We have to try to rub as much of that stench and mud off you as we can," Malfoy said, the nasty grin on his face teling me he wasn't truly sorry. As he brought a wet towel full of foul smelling soap to my skin, I could feel, with the combination of scrubbing and burning water, my skin peeling off. He scrubbed my sensitive skin with all the strength he could muster, and he wasn't pleasant about it. The combination of the scorching water and the scrubbing had me crying and screaming. I wasn't even opposed to begging for my already ill-fated life.
Malfoy dunked my head under the water again and I got a lung-full of hot water. I sputtered as soon as he let me resurface, gasping for the air my burning lungs desperately needed. He lathered a rather sticky shampoo in my hair and dunked me again. Suddenly, it was over. Malfoy's hand left my head and I quickly leapt to my feet, gasping for more air. I tried to cover my nakedness as much as I could, but the prying eyes of Malfoy did little to really cover me.
"Out," Malfoy demanded, reaching for me. I scrambled out of the water, far from his grasp and bumped into something solid. Humanly solid. I glanced up and stepped forward when I realized it was Snape whom I bumped.
"No more games, Lucius. The Dark Lord wants to see her. Let the girl dry herself and give her the robe, though nothing else. I'm sure he'll want to … make sure she's suitable," Snape said, crossing his arms over his chest. I swung around to judge Malfoy's reaction, in hopes that he's do what Snape said without comment. He did, though not without glaring daggers at the man.
"Your almost humane handling of this girl is highly predictable, Severusssss," Malfoy hissed, taking a step forward and throwing a worn, holey towel at me. Suddenly, he smirked. "Which is why I have faith I'll be the one to do the Dark Lord's bidding."
Severus scowled. "Not likely," he stated. Malfoy was about to retort when the doors to the room flung open. I turned quickly and backed toward the farthest wall, using the towel to cover what I could.
"The Dark Lord requests the girl's presence, as yours, gentlemen," the man barked. I squeaked when Snape turned toward me and raised his wand. A robe suddenly flew into my hands and without word, I put it on. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to his side.
"After you, Redorff," Snape said, squeezing my arm tightly. I gritted my teeth against the pain that shot up my arm and down my leg near my stab wound. Snape started walking out after the short man, while I was forced to limp along side him. I could not even fathom in my adrenaline-pumped, scared-out-of-my-wits state what would be my outcome after meeting with Voldemort. I only hoped I would live through whatever decision he made.