AN: It annoys me to say, but I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise, I would have Antonin Dolohov in my bed. Yummy!

AN2: Little rant...why don't any of the reviewers answer the questions I ask? It helps me decide which way you want the story to go and none of you let me know.


Dark POV -

The first Crucio always hurt the least. Very little reason to scream, and yet, Snape gave a small whimper. Antonin had noticed he only did it when under the Dark Lord's curse. Never anybody else, why? Snape raised more questions than answers, as did Little Bird. Seeing Snape writhing about on the polished floor brought a smirk to his face. Serves him right for interfering. However, it didn't add up. Why would Snape give Little Bird a potion to help with the night?

Deatheaters were known to prefer a woman who struggled and screamed. His little wife screamed alright, screamed in pleasure. Antonin had struggled to relate to his comrades; his father had been fractionally 'nicer' than most Pureblood fathers. Giving him what he wanted, teaching him to play Quidditch. He often found himself missing his parents. Would he be anything like them? Would Hermione be a good mother? Of course, he thought, she excels in everything. Why would motherhood be any different?

Once the Dark Lord had finished punishing Snape with the cruciatus curse, Antonin found himself the centre of attention again. "How soon do you believe it will be before she becomes pregnant?" Voldemort interrogated, as Snape returned to his seat, twitching as he did.

"We are both young, my lord, I doubt it will take long," he replied his accent thickening in his arrogance.

"We cannot afford to have the Mudblood by Potter's side, I want all the Order's secrets out of her!" His fellow Deatheaters nodded, all were eager to get rid of Potter and the Order. "Of course, I understand. There are some secrets that my 'intelligent' wife is yet to learn about our marriage."


Light POV -

Having been unable to open the door, Hermione pulled herself off the floor and began investigating the room. Storm grey walls surrounded her. It's too dark in here, she thought. The bed dominated the room; it was gorgeous. A few bookshelves decorated the walls. Upon further investigation, Hermione discovered they were muggle books; some on marriage, some on parenting, and some were horror stories. How funny, she thought, married life with Dolohov will be a horror story, so will having his children. Picking up a book, she didn't bother analysising the rest of the room. Looking at the cover, she noticed that she had picked 'Dr Jerkyll and Mr Hyde' by Robert Stevenson. Dolohov could probably relate to the character of Hyde. A small giggle escaped her lips. "I'm going to go mad here, I just know it," she spoke aloud, tears springing to her eyes as she thought of the worst scenarios. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, and continued to read - not moving until Antonin returned.


When Antonin entered the bedroom, he was greeted to fists hitting his chest weakly. Ah, he thought humourously, someone is upset. "You bastard! You locked me in," Hermione screamed, "you jacked up, evil, rapist Deatheater!" The Deatheater snarled. How dare this lowly witch insult him in such a way? "You are mine. My possession. My reward," he snarled, raising his hand and backhanding her across her face, "I can do what I fucking want!"

The petite witch hit the floor, clutching her cheek; eyes wide in fear. Dolohov was angry. No, he was furious. Not good. Narcissa had warned her against making the Russian wizard angry. The outcome wouldn't be good for her. Fisting her curly tresses, Dolohov pulled her to her feet; using the grip to throw her on the bed. "Listen hear Mudblood, you're not going back to Dumbledore or your precious Order without being pregnant first," he growled in her ear, "Better start now. The Dark Lord has ordered it."

Hermione struggled, trying to dislodge him from his position on top of her. When pushing against his broad chest failed, she attempted to slap him across his face. Grabbing her wrists, the huge Deatheater pinned them above her head. No! Hermione thought, he's going to rape me! Tears sprung to her eyes, as her brutal husband ripped her dress off her body, leaving her open to his scrutiny. "Nice tits for a Mudblood," he commented, as he roughly fondled her breasts. He landed a harsh bite to the lightly tanned swell, making her cry out. The bite made her stomach clench. Why am I feeling this?! Hermione thought.

He vanished their clothes with a wave of his wand, and cast 'Incarcerous' on her wrists - leaving her bound to the headboard. Seeing him naked with his member fully erect was terrifying; it was undeniable that he was attractive. Yet, in her minds eye, Hermione could see him looming over her - looking monsterous. She didn't have time to react as Dolohov knelt by her head, and thrust into her mouth. "Bite it and I'll hurt you in a much worse way," Dolohov ordered. Hermione found herself unable to fight back, instead going limp - her mouth being used for Dolohov's pleasure. His cock was brutally entering her throat with each thrust, whilst he groaned and her tears rolled down her cheeks. "Mudblood's are always good at sucking cock," he remarked. Hermione couldn't breathe. Sucking gently, she prayed it would be over soon.

After what seemed like forever, Dolohov moved away from her mouth; allowing her to breathe properly. Dolohov thrust into her body. The dry intrusion hurt! The witch screamed in pain, he felt huge without being prepared. "Nice tight cunt you've got, bitch," the Deatheater groaned. Thrusting into her young body, Dolohov bit any part of her torso he could reach. Pulling out, he flipped her over and thrust in again; she felt even tighter now.

Her traitorous body was enjoying it, and begun to get wet. "Please stop," Hermione pleaded. Dolohov laughed sinisterly. "No. Your little cunt is enjoying this, enjoying being a fuck toy." He pounded into her, tearing her apart - the grip on her hips was painful. "Look at that little asshole," Dolohov growled in her ear, her body clenching around him, "I will fuck you in that hole too, you like that idea, don't you? My own little slut, aren't you?" Hermione peaked, before passing out. Dolohov's own thrusts becoming erratic, before slipping into her warmth. Leaving himself inside her, he fell asleep - forgetting to untie her hands.


AN3: Short chapter today, sorry! I had writer's block, but I know what will happen for the next few chapters. Do you want another rape scene in the next chapter or show what's happening everywhere else e.g. The Order?