'How beautiful you are! You are more beautiful in anger than in repose. I don't ask you for your love; give me yourself and your hatred; give me yourself and that pretty rage; give me yourself and that enchanting scorn; it will be enough for me.' - Charles Dickens, The Mystery of Edwin Drood
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Screams - ripping through my brain, pounding in my ears, the screams of souls trapped in the deepest depths of hell - and the worst noise in the world – the screams of a child, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sorrysorrysorry… laughter - a horrible, low, mocking chuckle I know too well… and then it changes. High. Wild. Cold. Voldemort, no no nononono don't make me, I can't, I've lost everything, Lucius has taken everything, how can you ask this of me now? Ron's voice, 'Don't lie to me.' He doesn't understand… screams fade, but Voldemort's laughter grows wilder, louder, please, it wasn't my fault, I didn't want this, don't make me, I can't, won't, MudbloodMudblood, 'Hermione!' Mudblood-
'NO!'
I bolt upwards, shivering and shaking, and I can't breathe, I can't…
Please don't make me choose-
Hands grip at my shoulders. I hit at them, pushing them away from me.
'Hermione, it's me!'
I stop, looking at the face in front of me. It swims into view, slowly.
'Oh god, Ron!'
I throw my arms around his neck, and he holds me closely to him, pressing his lips shakily to my forehead as I breathe deeply, pulling myself together. A nightmare, that's all. A stupid nightmare.
'It's okay, Hermione.'
I look up at him, putting my hands to his face and running my fingers over the cuts and bruises that lie among his freckles.
'Are you better now?' he asks.
I drop my hands from his face, feeling very stupid. 'Yes. It was just a nightmare, that's all.' I look around me. I'm still in that tiny stone room, but there's light now. Dark red light. And it's empty, mercifully, except for me and Ron.
He grips onto my arm and gives it a tiny squeeze of reassurance. It's such a sweet, simple, Ron-ish gesture that I burst into tears.
'What's the matter?' he asks. 'What's happened?'
I put my face in my hands. 'I'm so sorry, Ron.'
'Why are you sorry?'
The tears come thicker and faster. 'I'm sorry for everything.' The words tumble out of me in sobs. 'I'm sorry that I l-let them capture me. I'm s-sorry that I gave you away, and Harry. I'm sorry that they tortured you to g-get to me. I'm s-sorry I cut off your th-thumb-'
I start to sob so heavily that I can't speak. I press my fingers to my eyes, willing the tears to stop, but they just keep on coming.
He pulls my hands away from my face. 'Don't be silly. You've got nothing to be sorry for. My thumb's fine, see?' He holds it up and waggles it around to demonstrate, and I let out a tiny giggle. 'They used Imperius on you. What else could you have done?'
I shake my head. 'I should have fought it-'
'Hardly anyone can do that - it's too difficult.'
'But-'
'And don't feel bad about giving me and Harry away to them, either,' he says, knowing what I was going to say. 'I know what they must have done to get you to talk. God knows, they forced me to tell them enough.'
I nod. 'He… they told me that they tortured you to get you to talk.'
'And I couldn't hold out against it any more than you could. I've told them things…'
He trails off, and I know that he's suffering with as much guilt as I am.
I grip at his hand. 'You couldn't help what you did, Ron,' I say quietly. 'No human being could hold out against that sort of pain. I know – they did the same to me.'
He smiles a small, bitter smile.
It's then that I notice how different he looks. I think it's in his eyes, but… there's an anger in them that wasn't there before we were captured.
But then, I suppose that I'm a completely different girl from the one I was before all this happened. Neither of us are ever going to be the same again.
But then he smiles and brushes my tears away with his thumb, and I realize that maybe we haven't changed, not really.
'Who brought you down here?' I ask.
'No-one did,' he says. 'I just woke up in the bedroom they've given me and I found a note with my plate of food. It had this ring on top of it.' He holds up his hand to show me that he's wearing a tiny silver band on his ring finger. 'The note said that if I wanted to see you I had to put this ring on, so I did, and it sort of… transported me here.'
I nod. 'Did the note say who had written it?'
He shakes his head. But I know who wrote that note, of course I do.
Why is he letting Ron visit me?
'Are they keeping you in here?' he asks indignantly, looking around. 'God, even I've got my own bedroom!'
'No, I don't think I'll be here for long,' I say, trying a reassuring smile. 'I had my own room at first, but… but Malfoy, he just said he wants to keep me here for the time being.'
Ron's face darkens. 'What for?'
'He didn't say,' I reply, because I don't want to tell him what's really going on.
I hate how I have to lie to my best friend because of Lucius bloody Malfoy.
'I'm sure it's not anything bad, though,' I say hurriedly. 'I won't be here for long, he's said so. I think he just wants to try and mess with my mind by shutting me alone in here for a while. But it's nothing I can't cope with, so don't worry.'
'Bastard,' he mutters. 'What does he want from you now?'
'He didn't say.'
I could tell him what's really going on, but what's the point in letting him worry any more than he has to?
'I think he just wants to teach me some 'obedience', that's all. I was a bit… rude to him when we first arrived here. It's nothing I can't handle, really. I've hardly seen him since we arrived here.'
'Bastard,' he says again, his lips set in a thin line.
I rub at his arm in what I hope is a comforting gesture. 'Have you got your own room too, then?' I ask tentatively, trying to change the subject.
He allows himself a tiny, reluctant grin. 'Yeah. It's quite good, actually, compared with the cells we had before.'
I grin back at him. 'Do you have a dressing-table, a wardrobe, your very own en-suite bathroom, like I do?'
He laughs then, and I laugh with him. It feels good to smile – to really smile.
'Oh yeah,' he says. 'Actually, I can do one better than that.'
I gasp mockingly. 'What else have you got? Wall-to-wall carpet?'
'Sort of. Well, there's a rug, anyway,' he says, and that sends us into giggles again.
He scoots up next to me and the pair of us sit with our backs against the wall. I rest my head on his shoulder and he curves his arm around my neck.
What was that?
My eyes shift for a second to the corner of the room. I could have sworn I heard…
Nothing. It's a very old house. It's shifting itself, that's all.
I close my eyes, savoring this moment with Ron because I know that it won't last long.
'What happened when they arrived at the Burrow?' I ask after a while.
He takes a deep breath. 'We were all in the living-room, trying to work out how to rescue you. Tonks was there, and so was Lupin, and a few others from the Order. Most of them were trying to convince us to give up. They said that you were probably dead already. But me and Harry… well, we wouldn't accept it. We weren't going to give up on you.'
'Anyway, Ginny came bursting in and told us that there were Death-Eaters coming towards the house. Me and Harry got ready to fight, but Tonks stunned him before he could do anything.'
I let my breath out in a low whistle. 'What did she do that for?'
'She said there was no point in the Chosen One risking his life if he wasn't fully prepared to face Voldemort. She dragged him to the fire-place and used the Floo network to get him out of there. I don't know where she took him.'
I shake my head. 'Harry's going to be so pissed off with her.'
'I know,' Ron says quietly.
'It was clever of her, though.' I smile to myself – I always liked Tonks.
'Yeah.' There's a sadness in his voice. Neither of us say what we're both thinking – that we're never going to see Tonks again, and we wish we'd got to know her properly when we'd had the chance.
Ron shakes his head. 'Anyway, by the time the pair of them had got out of there the Death-Eaters were breaking down the door. Mum grabbed Ginny and Apparated, but the rest of us stayed to fight. Dad tried to convince me to Apparate out of there, but I wouldn't go.'
I lift my head up. 'Why didn't you leave when you had the chance?'
He smiles sadly. 'I couldn't give up on you, Hermione. I knew that the Death-Eaters had taken you.'
My stomach is completely empty. Everything's my fault, all of it. He'd be at home with his family if it wasn't for me.
'Hermione?' He's got a tentative note in his voice. 'Malfoy, he… I mean, I know that he was given charge over you at first. He told me when they first came to question me. But, well, I mean…'
My heart sinks in my chest.
'He…' Ron goes slightly pink as he tries to voice himself. 'When they tried to get me to speak, I wouldn't tell them anything at first. But then he…' He presses his lips together.
'What did he do, Ron?'
He looks me straight in the eye then, and I see such anger and fear that for a moment he doesn't look like Ron Weasley at all.
'He told me that if I didn't give them what they wanted, then…' He takes a deep breath and lets it out again. 'He said he'd get all the Death Eaters... the men, I mean, to...'
I can taste bile in the back of my throat.
'Has he… has he touched you?' Ron asks. 'If he has, I swear-'
'He hasn't,' I say hastily. 'And I don't think he ever will either, so don't worry about that.'
'How do you know, though? You hear these stories about what happens to witches they take prisoner-'
'I know because… because he's… dropped hints about it, but then laughed and said that he wouldn't dirty his hands on filth like me. He's actually said, 'I don't touch Mudbloods'. And anyway, when Dolohov…'
I trail off. I don't want to tell him about that.
Too late.
Ron's ears are burning bright red with anger. 'What did Dolohov do?'
'Nothing,' I say, altogether too quickly, and his grip on my hand tightens.
'Tell me, Hermione.'
'It was nothing. It was just… well, Dolohov's tried it on, sort of… but Lucius stopped him. He said it would shame a pure-blood-'
But Ron's breathing is suddenly heavy.
I grip at his hand. 'Ron, it doesn't matter, don't you see? What I'm trying to say is that Lucius won't let them do anything, so it's alright-'
'I'll kill him,' he says quietly.
'Who? Lucius?'
He pauses. 'Both of them. Him and Dolohov. I'll kill them.'
I put my arm around his shoulders. 'Come on, I'm fine. And anyway, what about you? They've treated you worse than they've treated me-'
'No they haven't,' he says quietly. 'When they first came to torture me they said I was lucky that I wasn't Muggle-born, like you. They said they would be more lenient with me because of my blood. It wasn't long before Malfoy threatened to have you hurt and I told them everything.'
I rub at his arm, not knowing what else to do. 'It'll be alright, Ron. I promise you-'
'How can you promise that?' he asks. 'How can you say that everything will be alright, when we're under the control of these fucking psychos? When they've effectively said that they're going to kill us when they're finished with us?'
I press my lips together to stop the tears of hopelessness from falling.
'We've got to get out of here, Hermione.'
'How?' I ask. 'I mean, you might be able to, if you manage to get yourself out of the house without meeting anyone on your way. But you'd have to swim across the lake, and I won't be able to come with you.'
'What do you mean?' he asks, frowning. 'You can swim, can't you?'
'Yes. But there are… creatures in that lake. They tried to kill me as I crossed the river. They go for muggle-borns, though, so that might be why you didn't see them.'
Ron sucks in his breath. 'That's what she was talking about, then.'
'What?' I ask.
'Bellatrix said something to Dolohov about how it was lucky all three of us were purebloods.'
I sigh. 'Yeah, that'd be it-'
'But we can't give up!' he says fiercely. 'We must be able to do something!'
'I don't think so, Weasley.'
My head snaps up to see a figure emerging from thin air as he pulls an invisibility cloak off himself, smirking at us. His wand is ready in his fingers as he throws the cloak to the floor.
I recover before Ron does.
'How long have you been there?' I ask as Ron and I pull ourselves to our feet.
'Long enough, Mudblood.' Lucius smirks as he answers me. 'Long enough.'
'But…' Ron stutters. 'You weren't there when I got here. You must have been here before I arrived!'
He was here while I was sleeping?
Lucius rolls his eyes. 'My, what exceptional powers of deduction. I assume that you have been put in charge of the family brain-cell for the time being?'
Ron lunges forward, but Lucius steps back curtly and flicks his wand at him.
'Crucio!'
'AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!'
Ron falls to the ground, bucking and writhing in agony. I throw myself towards Lucius, but as I reach him he grabs my throat, holding me out at arms length. I choke in his grasp, and although he keeps his wand on Ron his eyes are on me, full of cold, hard anger as Ron's screams tear through the room.
'Please-' I mouth the word.
His lip curls up, and he lifts the curse from Ron and throws me down on the floor. I crawl over to Ron's shaking body and I put my arms around him, cradling him to me.
'It's almost laughable,' Lucius drawls, but his face is far from smiling. It's full of an odd, angry expression that I can't fathom. 'You're both so unbelievably pathetic.'
Ron raises his head from the ground. 'Piss off, Malfoy!'
Lucius' face tightens, just for a second, before it curls up into a horrible smirk.
'Did you know that your friend calls me Lucius?' His gaze flicks to me for a second before it moves back to Ron. 'She knows that I dislike it, and yet she does insist on calling me by my first name. Why do you think that is, Weasley? Perhaps she's growing attached to me-'
'Ron, no!' I yell as Ron pushes himself quickly off of the ground.
'Impedimenta!'
Ron flies backwards into the wall, and cries out in pain as his body slams into the stone. But he doesn't crumple down to the ground, like I expect him to. He stays where he is, pinned to the wall.
'And you stay where you are,' Lucius murmurs as he turns to me, 'or I'll make sure that he suffers for it.'
I pull myself to my feet, shaking from head to toe.
'What do you want?' I ask quietly.
He doesn't answer me. He just smiles and leans over me, murmuring in my ear. 'I must say, I enjoyed the conversation I overheard between the pair of you.'
I feel a blush burn across my face.
But why? Why should I feel embarrassed about it? If he wants to listen in to our conversation, that's his own sorry affair.
'Why were you here…' alone while I was sleeping, watching me sleep, watching me dream, 'listening to our conversation?'
His raises his eyebrows. 'I don't need to justify my actions to you-'
'It's a reasonable question, Malfoy,' Ron snarls.
Lucius points his wand at him without even looking at him. I don't know what he does but Ron yelps and sucks his breath.
'I wasn't speaking to you, Weasley.'
'Stop it!' I say furiously. 'You don't need to hurt him.'
'And I won't, if he keeps his mouth shut and if you manage to keep yourself from being insolent. Have you ever considered that you might almost find me agreeable if you'd just do as I say?'
Agreeable?
I flick my gaze over to Ron, who's breathing harshly through his nose and staring at Lucius with a hatred that I've never seen on his face before.
I feel two fingers hook into my chin.
'Look at me, not him.'
I do as he says, and he lets go, smirking at me again.
'Good. And as to your previous question, I will tell you that I might be compassionate enough to let your friend visit you, but I'm not stupid enough to leave you two alone together. Who knows what two hormonal teenagers could get up to when left to pass the time together?'
'What does it matter to you what we get up to?' I ask.
His lips curls up. 'I have no interest whatsoever in your sordid little love-life.'
'Well then why-'
He cuts my words off with a hard slap across the face. My head flings backwards, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the tears from coming.
Ron starts shouting. 'You bastard! What kind of man hits a gi-'
'Silencio!'
Ron opens and closes his mouth silently, looking at Lucius with pure and utter hatred.
'You will speak when spoken to, boy,' Lucius says quietly.
I take automatic steps towards Ron.
'No.' Lucius doesn't even raise his voice. 'I don't think so.' He pushes me backwards, towards the wall. 'Stay there, and don't move until I tell you.'
I glare up at him. 'What kind of man hits a girl?' I say, finishing Ron's question for him. 'And what kind of man can't listen to the truth when a boy less than half his age spells it out for him?'
He looks at me for a long time, then shakes his head.
'A man driven to the limit of his patience by a Mudblood and an imbecile, that's who.'
He raises his wand and points it at Ron again.
'Finite Incantatum.'
There's a few seconds of silence. And then-
'You bastard, Malfoy.'
Lucius turns at Ron's voice and comes to stand next to me. His wand touches lightly at my waist.
'What's your problem?' Ron asks, his voice shaky with hatred. 'Do you get off on hurting people, is that what it is?'
Lucius just chuckles. 'I wouldn't say that I, ah…'get off' on it, but I do have to admit that my scruples tend to abandon me when it comes to the Weasley family. I think I proved that during your sister's first year at Hogwarts.'
Ron's face contorts, but he can't do anything while he's pinned to the wall. 'Don't talk about my sister, Malfoy.'
'I'll talk about whomever I please, however I please. And that includes every last member of your worthless family. Might I remind you that you are scarcely in a position to give me orders.'
Ron breathes heavily, like he's been running. 'I wasn't just talking about me and my family, though,' he says eventually. 'You enjoy hurting Hermione more than me, I can tell. I can only imagine what you've done to her when you've been alone together. And you've got no bloody reason for it – you only do it because she's Muggle-born.'
'Her being Muggle-born only removes any moral dilemma that the situation might present,' Lucius says coldly. 'I have tortured her only because it is my duty. Were you my prisoner, I would show you the same treatment, let me assure you.'
I want to scream – to rail at the bastard's lying face. But I don't. What's the point in hurting Ron with the truth?
'Please don't presume to know anything about me, boy,' Lucius goes on. 'Or about her, for that matter.'
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
'What the bloody hell are you talking about?' Ron asks incredulously. 'She's my friend-'
'And she's my prisoner,' Lucius drawls. 'Meaning that I've seen sides to her personality that she would never dream of showing you-'
'I am here, you know!' I shout suddenly.
There's a short pause.
'And who knows that any better than I do?' Lucius mutters. 'Damn, but I'd do anything to be rid of you, once and for all.'
Those words sting more much more than I care to admit.
The door clicks open and Bellatrix strides into the room, closely followed by Dolohov. They're both smiling; laughing, almost.
'Lucius, we have news,' Bellatrix says.
Lucius just raises an eyebrow at her. 'What's going on?'
'They've agreed t our demands,' Dolohov says as he turns to lock the door behind him. 'They've agreed to do whatever we want, whenever we want, and they patiently await our orders. All they ask in return is that we don't hurt their little boy.'
Lucius turns, smirking, to Ron.
'Well, well, well,' he drawls. 'Your parents have agreed to serve the Dark Lord, Weasley. What do you think of that?'
It's like the ground's disappeared under me.
Ron's face goes white. 'But… they wouldn't… they would never-'
'Oh, but they have.' Bellatrix cuts him off. 'And they did it without a moment's hesitation, either. How does it feel, Weasel? You have brought two new servants for the Dark Lord!'
'But they wouldn't!' Ron says desperately.
Lucius rolls his eyes. 'Honestly, I would have thought you'd be pleased. Would you rather they'd have turned round and said 'Kill our son; our principles mean more to us than he does'?'
Ron doesn't answer him.
Lucius curls a sneer. 'I didn't think so, somehow.'
'You BASTARDS!' Ron bursts out suddenly. 'They're my parents, you sick, sick fuckers! I hope you all burn in hell, you evil-'
'Stupefy!'
'No!'
The word leaves my mouth as Ron is hit by the red jet of light and falls away from the wall, sprawled on the ground.
I press my lips together, sinking down to the floor, because what can I do about it? They've all got their wands, while I have nothing.
'Thank-you, Antonin. I thought for a moment that we might have to put up with another of his tedious rants. Take him back to his room, and don't bother bringing him round. Just leave him some food for when he eventually wakes up.'
Dolohov open the door and point his wand at Ron, who rises into the air like some kind of lifeless puppet. He floats out of the room in front of Dolohov, who closes the door behind him.
'You bastards,' I hiss from the floor, shaken by the depths of my hatred.
My throat closes up.
I open my mouth and try to push some sound out, but I just can't, no matter how hard I try. I can breathe, but I can't speak.
Bellatrix is pointing her wand at me.
'We don't have time for one of your tantrums, Mudblood,' she hisses. 'The boy hasn't been harmed; he's just being kept out of the way for the time being. I would have thought you'd be pleased.'
I open my mouth automatically, but my indignant response comes to nothing because I can't voice it.
Bellatrix turns, smiling, to Lucius. 'It's such a pleasant change when she eventually keeps her mouth shut, don't you agree?'
'Oh Bella, who knows it better than I?' he says, shooting me a sideways glance from under lowered eyelids.
She winds her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He smiles down at her before she plants a kiss on his lips.
My own mouth falls open as he stretches his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
I want to gag.
Isn't he married? To her sister, for crying out loud?
But then, after everything he's done to me I shouldn't be surprised that he's not above sleeping with his sister-in-law.
But… why is she doing this in front of me?
She answers my unasked question when she opens her eyes, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as she kisses him.
For some reason, this... display is for my benefit.
He pulls away from her first, keeping hold of her waist as she rests her hand on his cheek.
'You should go to the Dark Lord and tell him the good news,' he murmurs to her, his voice so low that I have to strain to hear him.
'Well, why don't you come with me?' she asks, running a finger down the front of his robes. 'We could let him know together. He would reward us handsomely, I am sure-'
'No.' He pulls away from her, plucking her hand away from his chest. 'I'm afraid not, Bella. I've got, ah… business to deal with here.' He looks at me pointedly, and she turns her head to give me such a horrible look that it actually turns me cold.
'Well that won't take more than five minutes, surely!' she says petulantly. 'I'll wait for you, and then we can go together.'
'No, I think you should go alone,' he says firmly. 'It might help you to re-ingratiate yourself with him if you deliver this news. After all, he has hardly been best pleased with you since all the business at the Department of Mysteries-'
'He hasn't been happy with you either!' she says indignantly.
'No, he hasn't,' he replies calmly, 'but my work with the Mudblood has got me back into his good books, I think.'
'Well I don't see why you need to stay here with her now. You were with her all of yesterday.'
I could almost laugh.
'And I am sorry for it,' he drawls, narrowing his eyes at her. 'But I am afraid that there's no getting around the issue. The Dark Lord has ordered me to punish her for her part in the whole Carrow episode. I can't afford to disobey him, you know that.'
I would kill for the opportunity to speak right now.
'And anyway,' he goes on, 'it was you that dealt with the Weasleys. I had no part in it.' He tucks a finger under her chin and raises her sulking face up to look at him. 'You should go alone, Bella,' he says coaxingly. 'I would not wish to take any credit or reward for something you have done.'
She seems to be taken in by his self-serving lies. She smiles up at him, placated, before planting one final, light kiss on his lips.
'I'll see you later, then.'
She turns away from him, throwing me another glare before leaving the room, closing the door behind her. Lucius flicks his wand after her, and the door clicks as it locks itself.
'So,' he leans against the wall, a tiny smile on his face, 'here we are again, Mudblood. Just me and you, once more.'
I stare at him, hating him.
'Oh, forgive me.' He grins as he raises his wand. 'I quite forgot about your momentary indisposition. Finite Incantatum.'
It's like my throat has come unstuck.
'Why don't you just go with her?' I hiss as I get to my feet. 'I don't want you here.'
He breathes a small, incredulous laugh. 'Now now, I just want to speak with you. There's no need to be touchy.'
'Touchy!' Touchy is being a little bit on the moody side. Touchy does not even come close to the rage and hatred I feel towards him.'Touchy?'
He chuckles. 'You're over-exciting yourself, Mudblood. Calm down.'
'No, I won't calm down!' I snap. 'Just go away. Catch Bellatrix up and go with her. Just leave me alone.'
I turn away from him and lean against the wall, pressing my forehead into the cold stone.
'No,' he says after a while. 'No, I think I'd rather stay here. Bella can be ever so… repetitive.'
I actually let out a tiny snort of laughter as I turn away from the wall to face him again.
He's closer than he was before.
'And I'm not, I suppose? All I do is try to fight against you, break down into tears, and then give in to what you want. If that's not repetition, I don't know what is.'
And he… he doesn't answer me, not right away. He just watches me, and he doesn't come any closer, not yet.
'Yes, indeed,' he says eventually. 'But you have to admit that hatred is so much more… interesting than adoration. For example, I am certain you find me more interesting than your dear friend Weasley, even if you might prefer his company to mine.'
'I'm sure Voldemort himself might be a fascinating psychological study, but that doesn't mean I'd go near him with a bargepole if I had the option!' I retort.
He just smirks, and I almost yell in sheer frustration, but I force myself to channel it into something more useful.
'Tell me, does your wife know that you're sleeping with her sister?'
His face creases into a frown at that.
'What does it matter if she does or she doesn't?' he asks quietly. 'It is not your concern how I treat my wife.'
A long silence spreads out between us. I stare into his cold grey eyes, which are narrowed in anger.
'Why did you tell Ron…' I trail off, not really knowing how to finish that sentence because I'm not sure whether I really want the answer.
'Why did I tell him what?' His voice is quiet.
'You told Ron you'd let the Death Eaters loose on me if he didn't do as you said,' I mumble.
'What does that matter?' he asks. 'What does it matter what he believes? I wouldn't really have done it.'
'I know that!' I feel my face blooming in spite of myself. 'But it was so… low of you, to use a sick trick like that to make him talk!'
'Well, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up!' A small, malicious smile twitches onto his face. 'You should have seen the look on his face as I described exactly what I would let them do to you-'
'You unimaginable bastard!'
I lunge at him, humiliation and rage pounding in my ears.
But I freeze before I can reach him, frozen to the spot by his wand. And all of a sudden he's standing over me. All I can move is my head. He smiles, running a finger down my cheek.
'There's no need to be angry. You know that your body is, ah… sacred to me.'
I press my lips together.
'Now, are you going to behave yourself if I let you move again?' he asks quietly.
I swallow down my indignation and I nod. He smiles wider, and he flicks his wand at me. I stumble as the curse leaves me, but he grabs me by the arm, holding me upright.
He doesn't let go, even as I regain my footing.
'I have to say, I found myself… touched as you defended me against your friend's accusations.' He smirks. 'I never knew you cared.'
'I don't care about you!' I wrench my arm out of his grip.
'Of course you don't.' He reaches up and winds his fingers through my hair. 'That's why you denied his allegations so vehemently. Why didn't you just let him believe the worst of me?'
'Because I didn't want to hurt him!' I hiss. 'Not that I'd expect you to understand that!'
'An admirable sentiment,' he says mockingly, 'but if that is the case, then why did you tell him about what Antonin tried to do to you?'
I pause then, just for a second.
'I just…' I trail off, not really knowing what to say.
He smirks all the wider, removing his hand from my hair. 'So you didn't want to hurt him. Or maybe you're just growing fond of me-'
'SHUT UP!' I scream, raising my hand to slap him, but he grabs it before it can reach him, his smile vanishing as he pulls me closer.
'You still dare to raise a hand to me?' he asks. 'I thought that yesterday had taught you some obedience, or at least some remorse for your actions when we first arrived here-'
'Well you thought wrong, didn't you? Do you really think I would have done as you'd said yesterday if you hadn't forced me into it? And as for stabbing you, I'm glad I did it, do you hear me? I'm only sorry that I missed and got you in the arm instead of in the neck-'
He puts his hand to my throat and slams me against the wall. My mouth is pulled back into a kind of horrible grin as he looks at me long and hard.
'I see,' he says quietly. 'So it appears that I did waste my time, after all.'
He looks at me for a few moments before he steps back from me, releasing my throat. I fall away from the wall, massaging my neck as he points his wand at the floor, where a plate appears holding a loaf of bread, a bowl of soup and a goblet of water.
'I shall be back in half an hour,' he says curtly. 'It appears that we have more work to do than I thought. I expect you to finish your meal before I return.'
He pulls the tiny key out of his robes and transports himself out of here.
You mustn't panic. Whatever he does to you, it can't be any worse than he's done already.
Yeah, right.
I sit down on the floor with my plate of food, more to put off my fear than anything else, and I find myself reluctantly enjoying every last mouthful of it.
