A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!
Chapter Ten: Nice Shot
Bellatrix shifted the near-weightless teenager in her arms, grumbling to herself. "I could carry it for a while," Rodolphus offered meekly from her side, "Don't want you to catch whatever she has."
Bellatrix snorted, "And you'd rather catch it yourself, Rodolphus? I've been caged up with this filth for the last two days, it wouldn't do much good now to take her off my hands."
"That's what concerns me," Rodolphus pressed on, "she looks peaked and ill. I heard she had a fit in the cell."
Bellatrix sharply pushed the image of Hermiones seizure out of her mind. "Too much Cruciatus," she explained, "Fenrir took my watch for a mere hour and couldn't control himself, and he was aware that the Dark Lord wanted her to be kept alive."
"He shouldn't blame us. Fenrir is a half-breed, he'll execute him immediately and that will be the end of it." Rodolphus stated. Bellatrix nodded in agreement, and the thought of Fenrir being tortured and killed brought a small smile to her face.
The graveyard was desolate, for her and Rodolphus arrived first at the meeting. A thick gray fog rolled through the cemetery, swathing the land of the dead with an eerily foreboding environment. As if any of the places Death Eaters congregated at weren't foreboding. Hermione was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, and the couple waited for the arrival of their Lord.
Voldemort swept in twenty minutes later, and was content with his group of black-hooded followers gathered around a small, underweight, shaking teenager who, he was sure, would be the ultimate downfall of Harry Potter. "Thisss girl" he spoke, once he had caught the attention of every fearful soul standing in the place, "thisss filth.. " he hissed disgustedly, walking towards Hermione and pushing her with his toe, "must be brought to justice, for what she is."
The amount of cheering and whooping that came from the group almost drowned him out. But with natural authority in his voice he screamed, "SILENCE! She must not be killed….in fact…up until this point the little bitch wasn't even supposed to be hurt….but someone….." he stared down the filthy werewolf, who was shaking in terror, "disobeyed these orders………however, that will be dealt with later. For now, I must give you instructions, the plan has been formulated."
The plan was clever, complicated, and sinister, quite appealing to the group full of violent, broken followers. However, it was not something that Bellatrix wanted to do. He gave her and her husband the role of taking 'care' of the Mudblood, or in more basic terms, keeping her locked up and miserable. It wasn't the maltreatment Bellatrix cared about, it was the fact that the little Mudblood taint would be in her house, around her things, and present in her life. She wanted to be out with the death eaters that wreaked havoc upon the muggle world, causing tragedy and death wherever they went. Every week, the death eaters were to gather at her house, assess the girl, maybe rough her up a bit, and deliver the news to Harry Potter whichever way they could. Eventually, her location would be given up, and Potter was to be lured there. Voldemort left out who would finally capture the Golden Git, saying only, "he will be captured during his less than noble, and hopefully final, journey." After assessment, Bellatrix became aware that Snape wasn't at this meeting, and he would be the one Voldemort confided all his secret plans to. This sparked her rage, as it normally did, because she felt she was the most loyal death eater.
Hermione had not stirred for the whole of this meeting, and an unconscious victim was not nearly as much fun as the ones who were fully awake. She was spit on a few times, touched and exposed for a moment before Voldemort dissuaded the excited men from their purpose. Why he did that, Bellatrix was unaware. She walked wearily up to Hermione, as Voldemort instructed her, and hoisted the skin-and-bones body into her arms.
"Don't worry, Bella will see to it she suffers," Voldemort said, what was supposed to be a smile turning up the corners of his mouth, "and now for you, Fenrir. AVADA KEDAVRA!" His body slumped to the ground. There was no reaction to the death of a fellow 'colleague', it just happened, it was just the way it was, and everyone turned their backs, eager to return to their homes.
Hermione couldn't manage to repress the horror of her current situation. She was stuck in a house with two of the most dangerous and batshit crazy death-eaters in Voldemorts clan. The situation at her home was terrible, sure, but this was a version of her own private hell. Bellatrix could see something in her, she could see beyond her defenses, and once she discovered her precious little secret she would exploit it to the world, simply to break her down.
"It's my secret! Mine…I was there, I chose to hide it, and it belongs only to me." Hermione hissed at the wall. She wrapped her arms around her torso, wincing at the sharpness and protuberance of her ribs. She dug her fingernails into her palms until blood dripped from the ten little marks, down her palms, down her wrists, and finally dripped onto and stained the filthy nightgown she was wearing. The pain was such a relief, such a distraction. She stopped hyperventilating and hissing, momentarily basking in a false sense of serenity. She curled up in a fetal position on the ratty mattress that Bellatrix had deposited her body on, and tried to imagine a fire, a soft pillow, a warm cup of tea from her father, when he was being gentle, when she was too young for him to hurt her…
Hermiones head snapped up as the lock on the door clicked once. The second lock clicked. The door flew open. Bellatrix stood in the doorframe, holding a large padlock in her hand. She was clad in only a giant T-shirt, her hair pinned up messily to the top of her head, which accentuated her gaunt features and dark, piercing eyes.
Frightening, Hermione thought, but beautiful.
"You little bitch," Bellatrix was hideously angry, "You took him away." The woman didn't sound like she was in a sane mind state, which she rarely was, but it was apparent to Hermione the woman was in a worse way, more dangerous than the average psycho-Bella the wizarding world had come to know. Her eyes were glazed over, dreamy, and unfocused. Her body radiated fury, and there was no sign of any self-control.
"W-who? " Hermione asked in a timid voice.
Bellatrix proceeded to mock her, " 'w-who'? I'll tell you who, you scum!" She advanced on Hermione, knuckles clutching the padlock tight.
Hermione dug her nails into her palms once again to ease her terror, she could feel the wounds re-open, the blood pool in both of her palms, and the blissful sting that took her away.
"If it hadn't of been for you, the dark lord would still have me amongst his most trusted," Hermione closed her eyes as the dangerous whisper got closer and closer, "but now," oh, god, she was so close, she could feel her breath on her neck, "no. fucking. chance." Bony fingers wrapped around her throat, albeit not tightly, and she felt suffocated as Bellatrix climbed on top of her.
"Open your eyes," Bellatrix sang in a playful tone. Hermione kept them tightly shut. The death eater leaned down closer, "I said," hair brushed across her face, "OPEN YOUR EYES!" The scream right in her ear sent her into a state of dissociated shock. Her eyes were wide open, her muscles rigid, and her senses alert. She was not in her body, however, or so was the feeling. She couldn't talk, move, or feel. She would have smiled triumphantly if she had the ability.
I found my safe place, and you can't take me away from it. I'm not here. I'm not inside myself, and there's nothing you can do about it, bitch.
She could see Bellatrix screaming at her, throttling her, and slapping her. She didn't feel or personally experience any of the horrendous encounter, it was as if she was an outside entity, watching her own misery unfold.
Suddenly, it felt as if she had been thrown into a lake of icy water. The shock of the 'cold' took her from her safe place, and she was back inside herself again, breathing heavily, eyes darting around rapidly in panic. Bellatrix had dismounted from her chest, and was sitting on the corner of her mattress, just staring at her.
"What-" Hermione looked at the thin stream of light coming from beneath the door, "time is it?" The three words spilled from her mouth weakly.
"I have no idea," Bellatrix responded in a completely despondent tone.
"But, you just came in….and it was at night…and now…." Hermione shook her head.
"I first came in," Bellatrix stated, "six hours ago."
"But that was..that was just now…" Hermione whispered, confused.
"No, it wasn't."
"You mean to tell me…." Hermione scrunched up her forehead, "that I was there for hours? It's never been that long…" She didn't really care much that she was talking to herself right in front of someone else, because that someone would probably hurt her in the end, so what did it matter?
"I thought you were dead, and we can't have that. The lord needs you alive." The heartless attitude re-entered Bellas voice.
"You weren't in here the whole time?" Hermione queried.
Bellatrix cleared her throat. "No. Of course not. You think I would stay with you? Who the fuck do you think I am, little girl?"
"I honestly have no clue," Hermione answered quietly. She knew Bellatrix was lying. The way her facial expression had changed when she asked that question…it was undeniable. The only question left for her now was Why?
Why the hell would she stay with me? All she need do is check my pulse to see if I'm alive or dead. She could've beat on me for those six hours, but I have no new marks. She just stayed? She must have done something…. Something….
An awkward silence settled over the both of them. Hermione's stomach growled. Bellatrix seized that noise as an opportunity to torment.
"I bet you're very, very hungry child. But bad girls don't deserve to eat. A fat, useless, whore such as yourself may only eat when I say so." She crossed her arms over her chest. The face she was pulling indicated she was hiding something, but Hermione was too weak at that point to notice.
"Right." Hermione gave her a curt nod, and turned away from her. She laid still until she heard Bellatrix leave, and the locks click shut. She then dug her fingernails into the indents they had already made in her skin, and escaped.
Now that the smoke's gone, and the air is all clear.
Those who were right there got a new kind of fear.
You'd fight, and you were right, but they were just too strong.
They'd stick it in your face and let you smell what they consider wrong.