Author's Note: This chapter may be disturbing. Not as violent as last, but still, expect it to be dark. It might not be a bad idea to just anticipate that most chapters from here on out are going to be fairly dark. I'm estimating about three or four more chapters left.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Waking up on the bathroom floor had been jarring. It took several moments for Hermione to calm her rapidly beating heart long enough to remember how and why she was on the bathroom floor. The previous night was a blur, a distressing nightmare she prayed was unreal. One glance at the barricade of furniture stacked in front of the bedroom door brought it all crashing back to reality.
From the first moment she entered the family dining room for breakfast with the younger Lestrange brother on her first fully conscious day at the manor almost a full year earlier, Rabastan had not been silent about his desires. She could easily brush off the inept innuendos as merely being a somewhat amusing joke from a man that liked to tease. It made life in the manor bearable if she chose not to dwell on the stark reality that without Antonin's presence, she would've been assaulted by Rabastan months ago. Rodolphus in his Argos disguise had also been able to keep her protected in his own little ways.
Now they were both gone and she was utterly alone. Thoughts of the previous night plagued her until she feared she might dissolve into a proper panic attack. If that horribly ugly vase had not been within arm's grasp… If Rabastan had not been summoned at just that very moment…
Hermione shook her head in hopes that the physical action might jumble up her thoughts enough to keep her from dwelling on them. Naturally she was unsuccessful. The worst case scenario would be that Rabastan would decide he no longer needed her around after finally raping her like she knew he'd always wanted. What would that mean for her then? Would he kill her the moment he grew tired of her elusive charms? Cast her aside for one of the other objectionable Death Eaters to claim her for a night or two? The uncertainty could drive any sane person completely mad, and Hermione was already halfway there. What kind of existence could she expect if the best case was Rabastan never growing tired of her and continuing to use her body in perpetuity?
She angrily brushed her tears out of her eyes and off her cheeks. Weakness would get her nowhere. Hadn't her boys taught her that? All of them? Thoughts of Antonin and the other three men she knew were frantic with her disappearance buoyed her resolve ever so slightly. She knew that they were doing everything they could to bring her home. None of them would rest until she was back with them. Not even Theo and all she had really done for him was bring him pajamas and worry herself sick that he was unhappy.
Hermione called out for Rosie. She needed to see a friendly face. The elderly house-elf arrived only moments after she was called.
"Good morning, Missy Hermione."
"Good morning, Rosie. Has Rabastan returned home?"
She desperately hoped that the elf would put her mind at ease by telling her 'no'. Fate wasn't so kind. Rosie's tiny head nodding in the affirmative made her gut clench so tightly she was certain she was going to be sick.
"Master Rabby returned home very late. He is still sleeping."
"Rosie, would you come tell me the moment he is awake?"
She didn't want to be caught off guard again. If she knew he was awake, she could at least prepare herself for what might happen next.
"Rosie was told by Master Roddy to do whatever she was told."
"Thank you, Rosie."
Her squeaky ally blinked out of the room for a few short minutes. When she returned she had a clean dress and a bundle of toiletries under her bony arm. Somehow Rosie always knew just what her charges needed to feel human again. Hermione was exceedingly grateful.
She took the shortest shower of her life terrified that if she lingered too long under the water, she might have an unwelcome visitor join her. Fending a determined Rabastan Lestrange off while naked in the shower seemed like an impossibility. When she was as minimally clean as possible in less than two minutes, she hopped out to dress in record time.
Rosie led her into the bedroom to sit near the fireplace. The elf hadn't touched a single piece of furniture from Hermione's barricade so they were forced to sit on the hard floor. Rosie took Hermione's hair and began to gently brush and charm it dry. Hermione always loved when the elf fixed her hair. It was a relaxing activity that reminded Hermione so much of her mum that her eyes never failed to fill up with tears.
"Shush now," Rosie crooned in what Hermione thought of as her lullaby voice. "Rosie'll take care of Missy Hermione."
The tender moment was ruined by the attempted opening of the door. Rabastan pushed and kicked at the door hard enough to shake some of the lighter pieces of furniture. The rest wouldn't budge. Hermione rose quickly to her feet, scanning the room for anything she might be able to use as a weapon. When Rabastan's shouted curses grew louder so did the fear residing within her grow.
"Rosie!" Rabastan shouted. "Open this damned door immediately!"
Hermione could've sworn the expression that briefly crossed the elf's face was one of sympathy and remorse. It was apparent that Rosie didn't want to open the door any more than Hermione. Bound by ancient magics that forced her to obey orders she didn't like, Rosie quickly set the room to rights within moments. Every single piece of furniture flew across the room to its rightful spot. When nothing but the heavy dresser remained blocking the door, Rosie turned to Hermione and gently patted her hand in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.
The dresser flew back to its rightful location and immediately the door burst open. To describe Rabastan as furious would be a gross understatement. Hermione had never seen him quite so angry. He shouted at her for daring to block him from entering his room before casting powerful sticking charms on everything in the room. Without a wand to counteract the charms, she wouldn't even be able to open a drawer. Satisfied with his work, Rabastan shot an almost manic grin in Hermione's direction before vanishing the door.
"Now you won't even hear me enter, pet."
The feral smirk on his countenance made Hermione shudder in equal parts fear and disgust. Rabastan lazily flicked his wand in the direction of the bathroom to vanish that door as well. Hermione's attention was so focused on the missing bathroom door that she didn't realize Rabastan was crossing the room until he was right in front of her.
He smelled of the same kind of shaving cream that Antonin used when he could be bothered to mess with his almost perpetual five o'clock shadow. The heady mixture of lime and almond made her miss her wizard with an intensity that was almost frightening. Rabastan's breath smelled of spearmint and his expensive cologne was just the right amount to not be overpowering. It was a true shame that a handsome man like Rabastan could be so completely disgusting.
"So foolish to think you could ever keep me out."
Rabastan had her pinned against the wall unable to move away. His hands were resting on the wall, one on each side of her head. His body was pressed up against hers to keep her still. Hermione knew that men like him thrived on fear. Part of what made an encounter pleasurable for the monster was knowing that his partner, willing or otherwise, was terrified. She attempted to shore up her rapidly decreasing courage to remain as unruffled as possible.
His hands grasping her hips and forcing her body to grind against his prominent erection almost broke her resolve entirely. She kept her eyes closed, unable to bear the darkness in his. When his lips descended on hers, she didn't even try to push him away. She simply stood as perfectly still as possible trying to imagine she was anywhere else.
"Come on, Hermione. I know there's more passion in you than that."
Rabastan renewed his assault on her mouth. He ran both of his hands through her curls and gripped her head to keep her in place. His body continued to rub up against hers with promises of what it was capable. Frustrated with both her lack of fear and participation, Rabastan slapped Hermione hard across the face. Only the involuntary burning in her eyes from the hot tears she refused to shed gave any indication that she was the least bit upset by the action.
"Antonin wouldn't have kept you around for so long if you weren't a decent fuck."
He was trying to taunt her into some kind of response. She knew by the rapid deflating of the appendage he was so proud of that her plan was working. The back of his hand struck her cheek again but still she refused to show fear. He started to rant and rave like a lunatic to frighten his captive. She opened her eyes to stare back with a defiance that only angered him further.
"I will make you scream, witch!"
Rabastan groaned and reached for his left arm. Hermione had no idea why he always seemed to be summoned just when she needed him to leave, but she wasn't about to question her good fortune. Lestrange stomped out of the room swearing promises that he would have her very soon.
Hermione slid down the wall to crumple into a petrified ball on the floor. Within moments of her cries threatening to never end once they began, Rosie blinked back into the room. She hurried over to Hermione to crouch down next to her. As soon as she felt tiny hands patting her hair, her sobs ripped from her lungs. Having the sympathetic touch of another was overwhelming. She had no idea how long she laid on the floor bawling while the wizened, little elf ran her hands over her curls whispering soothing, if a trifle squeaky, words of encouragement. Eventually her sobs turned to cries and her cries to whimpers and her whimpers to sighs.
"Master Roddy told Rosie that Missy Hermione is to be treated just like a member of the family. He said that he would magically adopt her into the Lestrange family if he were able."
She was incredibly touched by the revelation that Rodolphus was willing to bind her into his Pureblood, Sacred Twenty-Eight family. A brief thought of what his late wife would think of a Mudblood in her immediate family almost made her laugh out loud.
"Would that make him my dad?" she asked, struggling to stifle a laugh at the strangeness of the situation.
"Rosie doesn't know a lot about Muggle adoptions, but magical adoptions are very different. Master Roddy would be more like Missy Hermione's protector. She would have all of the protections and rights as a Lestrange family member. Missy Hermione could think of Master Roddy more as an uncle or an older brother. She wouldn't have to forget her Muggle papa."
Hermione knew nothing about magical adoptions. It was one area where she had no knowledge at all. Knowing that Rodolphus loved her enough to want to make her an official member of his family was overwhelming. Her tears began to renew themselves. Rosie did not cease her comforting.
"Rosie has been taking care of Lestrange babies all her life. Rosie takes care of Missy Hermione."
She had no idea how long she had been asleep on the floor when she finally opened her eyes. Her morning altercation with Rabastan had been grueling and her emotional breakdown with Rosie soon after exhausting. Hermione knew exactly who to thank for the pillow underneath her head and the thick blanket draped over her form. Rosie was taking Rodolphus' words to heart.
A tray with a heavy lunch was set up on a nearby table with a stasis charm. Hermione's stomach began to gurgle in anticipation of the meal. She hadn't eaten since almost a solid day earlier. She'd been too frightened to eat the dinner prepared by the elves. As soon as she started to nibble on the delicious food provided, she found she had no appetite. A pile of some of her favorite books was on top of the dresser. Hungry for something stimulating to occupy her mind, Hermione grabbed several. It didn't take her long to realize it was almost impossible to concentrate.
She curled up on the familiar sofa with the warm blanket tucked around her shivering form. The room itself wasn't cold, but every time Hermione thought about what was going to happen when Rabastan returned, another cold chill engulfed her body. Her very active imagination fantasized about all sorts of horrifying encounters in store. It was enough to push her already frayed nerves ever closer to complete insanity. She sat huddled in place for hours, her eyes focused on the flickering flames in the fireplace. She could almost understand why Antonin found that action so soothing. Of course thoughts of her wizard were counterproductive in her plan to remain calm.
Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she worried about Antonin. He must have been distraught. She worried that he would do something foolish in her absence. He was a passionate man despite the cool demeanor he wore around most. She hoped he would kill the bastard who had her locked up and take her home.
She didn't know what time it was when a flustered and furious Rabastan came bursting into her room. Hours had certainly passed but as the sun was still high in the sky, there hadn't been many. The usually unruffled wizard was behaving out of character. His face was bright red as he muttered horrible curses under his breath. His robes that were usually perfectly pressed were rumpled and half-unbuttoned. He pulled on his collar forcing a button to fly off his clothing. Hermione was too frightened of this stranger to even move.
"Are you all right?"
She wanted to bite her tongue off the moment the words fell out of her mouth. Rabastan's well-being was of no concern to her, but she was unable to stop the verbal spewing when it began. Rabastan turned to glare at her, almost as if he were just noticing her presence. His expression was one of suspicion.
"Like you care."
His petulance was as surprising as his disheveled garb. Hermione was able to catch a glimpse of the spoiled little brat he must have been as a child. The thought was almost amusing.
"I once thought we were friends," she lied, hoping at the last moment that manipulating the man into having a conversation would keep his hands off of her body.
Rabastan sighed.
"Fine. I believe the Dark Lord is displeased with me and I don't know why. Twice he has summoned me places that make no sense. I fear he is testing me."
Without warning, Rabastan lay on the couch and put his head in Hermione's lap. She didn't know what to do. His frustrated sighs grew louder as it became obvious he was waiting for her to continue to comfort him. She ran her fingers through his hair much like Rosie had done for her earlier. Rabastan instantly sighed and melted into the affection. Hermione closed her eyes in an effort to pretend that the man in her lap was Antonin. Thorfinn would do in a pinch.
"The Dark Lord has put me in charge of a very important project," Rabastan explained. "That should mean that he trusts me, but I don't know. He's not exactly easy to read."
"What happened when you were summoned?"
She wanted to keep him talking no matter that she did not care for a word he had to say. Keeping his mind occupied on anything other than his previous promises of his designs for her seemed to be her only option of defense. Rabastan sighed again before answering.
"I Apparated into an empty field this morning," he explained. "Never been there before and didn't have the first clue where I was. No one else was there. I wandered around for a while before I gave up and went to Hogwarts. The Dark Lord refused to see me. Something about a number of bodies found partially eaten in the woods."
Hermione continued running her hands through thinning brown hair. He had not been blessed with the thick head of hair his older brother had been. The affectionate gesture only kept him talking. She hoped he would reveal more the longer she played with his hair.
"The rebels attacked last night. I should have been informed but I was summoned into London last night. Right in the midst of a crowded Muggle area. It was a close thing that none of the filthy beasts witnessed my sudden arrival."
"What happened in London?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
His frustration was growing. Rabastan wrapped his right arm around Hermione's waist and his left around her knees. Hermione struggled with not showing fear as he began to squeeze her in what was almost an affectionate manner. He turned so his face was against his stomach. Every muscle in her body tense the moment he began to sniff her. It was unnerving.
"Are you certain you are a Mudblood?"
The question was asked in a quiet, disbelieving tone. His blue eyes stared up into her brown waiting for her response.
"Both of my parents are Muggles, if that's what you are asking."
"You smell too good to be an animal."
He twisted around in place until he was able to grab her head with both hands. At first she struggled against his motion to pull her head down to his until she remembered that was exactly what he wanted. His lips met her with enough force that she was certain she'd nicked her bottom lip on one of his teeth. Rabastan didn't seem to mind. He invaded her mouth with his tongue completely ignoring the faint coppery taste of blood. Her head was kept in the same awkward position until without any warning, Rabastan roughly pushed her head away from his.
"Fuck!"
His sudden shout frightened his unwilling guest. He stood up from the sofa and swiftly exited the room. Hermione could hear him cursing and shouting through the entire house. She watched him cross the grounds to the gates with great relief. When he Disapparated she promptly threw up all over the floor.
"Oh, no, Missy Hermione!"
Rosie rushed over to Hermione's side and began to drag her to the bed. Where the little elf came from was beyond Hermione. She had a habit of popping up when she was least expected. Once Rosie was successful in forcing her newest charge to lie back on the decadently luxurious bed, she conjured a cool cloth to place on Hermione's forehead. Hermione could've cried at the creature's kindness if she wasn't already cried out from earlier.
"Missy Hermione has very good friends," the elf said, smoothing her curls away from her flushed face.
The declaration surprised Hermione. Yes, she certainly believed she had good friends but had no understanding why Rosie mentioned the fact.
"Rosie shouldn't tell, but Master Roddy said that Rosie was to treat Missy Hermione as a member of the family and elves cannot lie to their families."
Hermione started to speak, but the elderly elf shushed her at once.
"Master Roddy ordered Rosie to keep an eye on Missy Hermione. Of course that was a ridiculous order because Rosie was going to do that anyway."
Rosie's eyes widened in fear when she realized what she'd said. Hermione hated to know what kind of punishment the creature had in mind for calling her master's orders 'ridiculous' and she wasn't going to find out.
"Rosie, I order you not to punish yourself. You were right. Rodolphus' orders were ridiculous. You are a good elf."
Satisfied with her new order, Rosie nodded her head, all traces of fear gone from her determined face.
"Rosie was ordered to find the sweet, pretty witch every time Master Rabby is alone with Missy Hermione."
"The sweet, pretty witch?"
"Yes, with the yellow hair. She and her pretty wizard will have pretty babies one day. Rosie would like to hold one. Rosie loves pretty babies."
Hermione had a suspicion she was talking about Reina and Lucius, though she couldn't understand why Rodolphus would give Rosie such a bizarre order.
"Why do you have to find Reina, Rosie?"
"Rosie's not sure, but the pretty witch does some kind of spell to keep Missy Hermione safe."
The summonses. It made sense. Every time Rabastan had been alone with her for any length of time, he was summoned. The thought that Reina had figured out a way to create a summons was fascinating. For at least the hundredth time in her acquaintance with Reina Rowle, Hermione believed the older girl could've been one of the best students at Hogwarts if she'd only applied herself. Her inquisitive nature made her want to view the woman's N.E.W.T scores. Thorfinn would laugh and call her a nosy, little swot. He wouldn't be wrong.
"Missy Hermione needs to stay in bed and rest," Rosie ordered.
Hermione didn't want to argue. Even with the nap on the floor of the bedroom she was still exhausted. Fear had a way of zapping energy out of even the strongest of people. She fell asleep content with the knowledge that when Rabastan returned to the manor, Rosie would let her know.
When Rabastan returned to the manor just before the sun was ready to set, Hermione didn't need a wakeup call from the elves. She was able to hear the front door slam and Rabastan's curses with her own ears. She could tell by the way his shouts were getting louder that he was headed in her direction. Not wanting him to walk in on her still lounging in bed, Hermione jumped to her feet. She was standing when the current master of the house came barging in. His anger was crackling around him in sparks of magical bursts.
"Do you know what today is, pet?"
His tone was biting and cruel. Hermione shook her head, subconsciously taking a step back when he stepped toward her.
"Today is the Winter Solstice. We have plans to celebrate."
Rabastan removed a simple red robe from his pockets.
"Take your clothes off and put this on."
He threw the garment at her, narrowly missing her face. Hermione grasped the robe but did not move. He couldn't expect her to just change in front of him, could he? She could see the fury in his eyes. Whatever he'd been doing while he was gone from the manor was obviously unpleasant. She had never seen him that angry.
"Did you not hear what I said, witch?!"
Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath to prevent herself from crying. Making a conscious effort to not show fear was not an easy task. The more frustrated the formidable Death Eater grew with her, the harder it became to remain unaffected.
"Imperio."
With one simple word Hermione felt all of her fears dissolve. An uplifting sense of calm lightened her spirits. Gone was the worry of what was about to happen to her. She no longer had any fears or worries to speak of at all. It was freeing. For the first time in a very long time, years even, she felt completely at peace.
"Take all of your clothes off."
Hermione had never considered herself particularly shy, but she did have a firm sense of modesty. Living with four other girls in a dormitory for six years and then two boys in a tent for another year meant that she had to get over her aversion to dressing and undressing in front of others fairly quickly. She felt no shame disrobing completely in front of Thorfinn that night they were drugged and forced into their passionate encounter. Her months with Antonin prevented her from ever feeling shame when her naked body was on display for his own eyes.
She had zero hesitation stripping down in front of Rabastan. When the last strip of clothing hit the floor and she was completely exposed for her newest captor, Hermione was unashamed. Even as he began to slowly circle her form, examining every inch of bare flesh. He moved closer to her but she felt no fear. Even as his unfamiliar hands began to roam over her nakedness she wasn't afraid.
"Kiss me."
Her mouth pressed up against his within seconds. Unlike every other time the horrible wizard forced his kisses on her, Hermione wasn't disgusted. She gladly opened her mouth to allow Rabastan to deepen the kiss. One hand was in her curls, roughly pulling her head towards his. The other was splayed across her bare bum kneading and pinching the flesh.
The unnatural couple must have been snogging like oversexed teenagers in a hidden alcove for several minutes before the once soft touches from the wizard became harsh, punishing caresses. He was leaving red marks behind that would soon turn to deep bruises. In the back of her mind Hermione thought how strange it was that an activity she usually enjoyed could be so unpleasant. Antonin had never injured her when they were alone. Yes, there were times his grip on her hips in the heat of passion was hard enough to leave marks, but she never really minded. He never hurt her when they were just kissing.
Thoughts of Antonin made her wonder why she was kissing the wrong man. Every touch felt foreign. In the middle of a particularly fervent kiss, Hermione stopped. It took Rabastan a moment to register that he no longer had a participant. He broke the embrace.
"Kiss me again."
She felt her mouth move closer, but she was able to stop before they met. Rabastan's frustration was quickly returning after his command was repeated several times to no avail. Hermione continued to fight the movement after every shouted order. In the back of her mind she remembered how Harry was able to fight the Imperius Curse. She owed it to her best friend to try.
"Get on your knees."
One of her knees bent of its own accord while the other stayed straight. She didn't want to get on her knees in front of Rabastan. All possibilities were unpleasant. The continued awkwardness of one bent knee and one straight forced Hermione to fall to her face. Rabastan was disgusted. He threw the red robe at her and removed the curse.
Realizing she was sprawled out on the bedroom completely naked, Hermione pulled the robe over her head in seconds. Rabastan's face was bright red. He was cursing her very existence under his breath. Hermione could tell he was in pain when he grasped his left arm. Instead of running out of the house to meet his master's summons, legitimate or not, Rabastan used the same tethering charm on her that Antonin used to use when they left the manor.
Rabastan grasped her elbow to drag her out of the room. His swift wand movement removed all traces of the spells keeping her confined to her old room. She was forced to follow him down the massive main staircase and across the sumptuous entrance hall. In the corner of the front room she saw Rosie wringing her hands with a worried expression on her tiny face. Rabastan paid her no mind. He dragged his hostage barefoot across the frozen grounds to the main gates. Another wave of his wand brought down the wards enough to let her through the gates. Rabastan wrapped his free arm around Hermione's waist and Disapparated them away.
When the shock of the squeezing wore off, Hermione was able to discover her new whereabouts were in the middle of large city. London, most likely. Her suspicions were confirmed when Rabastan pushed her through a plain door right into the middle of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. She gasped when she surveyed the immense room. Every single spare inch was filled with what appeared to be every member of the British wizarding society. Thousands of men, women and children of all ages were crammed into the space that had not been designed to hold so many even with the temporary expanding charms that were obvious around every wall.
She could hardly breathe for the crush of people. The fear that hung heavy in the air was suffocating. With so many people Hermione was surprised to find everyone was silent. Save for the occasional cry from a frightened baby and the harsh shushes from their equally terrified parents, no one was saying a word. All eyes appeared to be focused on the raised platform that had been erected in front of the 'Magic is Might' statue that dominated the Atrium. Nothing was on the stage that towered high above the crowd, but there was a sickening expectation of what was to come.
Rabastan drug her way from the crowd before she could start asking her inevitable questions. Their appearance caused only a few silent, raised eyebrows from those on the edge of the crowd. She was pulled down a long, empty corridor past what she knew were likely ornate offices for the Minister and his personal staff. At the end of the corridor he opened a door to a simple office. The door was slammed shut moments after she stepped inside.
"All of those unnecessary summonses prevented me from enjoying your company in the way I desired."
Rabastan pushed Hermione up against the large desk dominating the middle of the room. He spun her around until she was facing the desk, her back pushed against his chest. When he forced her to bend over the desk, Hermione tried to swallow the terror that was climbing up her throat. His intentions were painfully clear. Any doubt she might have had disappeared in the instant her hands were magically glued to the top of the desk. Rabastan's hands were like ice when he slipped them underneath her robe. She was determined that she would not show any fear. The end of her robes was pushed up to her waist, completely exposing the lower half of her body to the chill of the room and the gaze of the disgusting man. The shock of Rabastan touching the most private part of her body made Hermione jerk and vainly try to pull away. When his hand was taken away to begin unbuttoning his trousers, she couldn't stop the tears that began rolling down her cheeks.
"Dry as the Sahara," he laughed. Rabastan stopped in the middle of undoing his trousers to lean over her body and whisper in her ear. "Don't tell me you haven't been wanting this since the moment you stepped into my house."
Hermione was afraid she was going to disappoint herself by screaming. The door to the office opened abruptly. Rabastan cursed. He moved away from Hermione, exposing her vulnerability to whoever entered the small room. She was more afraid and mortified than she had ever been in her entire life. What if Rabastan wasn't the only one? Reina was raped by three different men. Maybe it was destined to be her fate as well.
"What?" Rabastan demanded, his vexation evident in his tone.
"Thought you'd like to know the hostages have arrived. Everyone is in place. We are just waiting for the girl."
Hermione recognized Yaxley solely by his voice. She'd spent several evenings in his company at the manor. He was always polite if a bit cool. It gave her hope that maybe he wasn't the kind of man to take advantage of a girl bound across a desk.
"Can you not wait just a few more minutes?"
"Certainly," Yaxley replied. Hermione could hear him start to leave the office, but stop before he was out. "Are you sure you want to touch that?"
Rabastan was incensed. He attempted to sputter out a coherent response. Nothing came out of his mouth correctly until he demanded Yaxley explain what he meant.
"Even if you put aside fucking a Mudblood is just as bad as fucking a dog or a sheep or any other disgusting animal, do you really want one that's already been used by Potter and probably all of the Weasleys? You know how vermin have no morals. Not to mention Rowle and the traitor Dolohov? There's no telling how many others. I'd fear my cock would rot off."
Hermione could have kissed Yaxley. The moment he closed the door behind him Rabastan let out a strangled groan and began buttoning his trousers. His spell keeping Hermione bound to the desk was removed so abruptly that she fell to the floor. Her lip hit the edge of the desk on the way down, splitting it. She lay on the floor petrified, yet relieved, of what might happen next. There were still so many unknowns about her situation.
The moment he was fully clothed and readjusted, Rabastan gripped Hermione's elbow. He yanked her roughly from the ground. They exited the office and went through another door to the silent, crowded Atrium at the base of the staircase leading up to the new platform.
Rabastan pushed her towards the stairs. She lost her balance, hitting her face on the way down. Tears were falling freely after the sharp pain. Her tormentor wrenched her back to her feet and began to pull her up the stairs.
"Fucking bitch," he muttered under his breath.
Gone was the slightly perverted, but welcoming host of her early captivity. Despite all of her concerns of his unwelcome amorous advances when she was alone in the manor, there were times she'd actually enjoyed the man's company. He had a humor about him that was almost endearing. Under different circumstances they might have even been friends. This man pulling her up the stairs in view of thousands of spectators was a frightening stranger.
When they reached the top of the platform, Hermione gasped. A row of masked Death Eaters stood behind the Resistance hostages. Hermione recognized every single person standing in front of their own personal guard. Rabastan brought her to the very center. Dropping her arm and pushing her to the floor, Rabastan turned to address the expectant crowd.
"I am pleased to see that the Dark Lord's orders that all citizens attend this gathering this evening were mostly followed. Any British witch or wizard not in attendance will be found and brought here to answer for their absence."
Hermione stared out at the crowd at the announcement that those not present would be found, many began to shift on their feet and whisper to their neighbors. It seemed that whatever the purpose of the evening, and Hermione was beginning to form a sick theory of what that was, there were likely many who ignored the orders. She naively hoped that the consequences would not be too severe.
"Despite the Dark Lord's Great and Victorious ascension to power a year and half ago, we continue to be plagued by those among us who refuse to recognize his superior authority. This will no longer be suffered!"
His voice rang through the Ministry to a chilling effect.
"Behind me we have several who have dared to rebel against the new order. They, and all others like them, must be eradicated. We will no longer allow them to roam freely amongst our people. The Dark Lord wants our entire society to witness what happens to those who would dare to rebel.
"As a special treat, Potter's Mudblood whore will do the honors. Can you imagine a more ignominious death than at the hands of a traitorous Mudblood?"
The weight of Rabastan's words struck Hermione like a kick in the stomach. Suddenly the plans Voldemort claimed he had for her made sense. She turned her head to examine the Resistance hostages she now understood she was expected to execute. She almost lost everything in her stomach when her eyes landed on Neville's precious baby. He couldn't have been more than three or four months old. How could she murder an innocent child?
She scanned the faces of the rest of her intended victims. Hannah was holding on to her child silently crying and periodically kissing the top of his head. Draco sneered, no doubt his programmed look to hide his own fear. Angelina stared ahead with a blank expression. Ryan gave her a tiny, private smile that was almost her undoing. A very pregnant Fleur was pale and quietly weeping.
"Imperio!"
She forgot all of her anxiety the second the Unforgivable was cast on her once again that day. Suddenly all concern she had for the poor souls only feet away was gone. The same soothing voice she remembered from earlier ordered her to stand to her feet. She complied without thought. Another order had her feet moving towards a small table where a collection of sharp knives lay. If she hadn't been feeling so recklessly carefree she might have been afraid.
"Pick up the biggest knife."
Her hand grasped a silver knife with a sickening twelve inch blade automatically. While she stood waiting for the next command from the comforting voice, the masked Death Eater behind Fleur Weasley dragged his hostage across the stage. The part-Veela was dumped at Hermione's feet, forcing the openly weeping woman to her knees.
"Grab the witch's hair."
Hermione gripped the woman's blonde hair in her free hand. Fleur gasped.
"Tilt her head back to expose her throat."
She did.
"Slit the bitch's throat."
Hermione placed the large knife against Fleur's perfect throat. Her soon-to-be victim shuddered with heart wrenching sobs. A tiny bead of deep red blood appeared from a tiny nick. Hermione was transfixed by the richness of the color.
"Slit her throat now!"
Memories of the woman kneeling before her flashed through Hermione's mind. They had never been close friends though there seemed to be a somewhat mutual respect between them. Fleur was not an easy person to be around.
"Slit the fucking cunt's throat now!"
When Hermione was recovering in Shell Cottage from her evening with Bellatrix Lestrange, Fleur had been wonderfully kind. She'd even held Hermione in her arms as she cried. Their eyes were locked on each other. Hermione continued to fight the urge to murder the woman on her knees.
"Fucking slit her fucking throat now, you daft cow!"
Hermione swiftly moved the knife away from Fleur's throat. All feelings of peace and serenity were instantly gone. She plunged the knife into Rabastan's gut. His blood coated her hand. A madness took over. As she stabbed Rabastan repeatedly she finally understood what Thorfinn meant by being intoxicated by blood. She had no idea how many times the knife plunged in and out of his body before Rabastan Lestrange's lifeless body fell with a thud, his blue eyes still open.
All Hell broke loose around her.
Author's Note: I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. Forgive me? : )