Hopeless.
Alone.
Nothing to hold onto.
And then I saw the light.
Hermione woke in a dark room in what looked like a poorly kept hospital wing. Her arms and legs were roughly bound with rope to hooks that were installed at the head and foot of the bed. She supposed the use of muggle contraptions was becoming increasingly popular, yet she was not so foolish to actually believe that this was the only form of bounding that was used on her. If she focused just enough she could eventually feel the very weak surge of magic coursing through her leaving her to wonder if they were draining her of her magic or simply putting a halting mechanism to it. Either would not come to much of a surprise to her.
She lightly tugged at her restraints, testing the waters as to what she was able to do. As nothing happened she began to tug harder, eventually, the rope was starting to cause rope burn, leading her to stop her attempts. She looked around to try and see if there was anything close to use and found nothing within reasonable reach, but also not necessarily out of reach. She felt like she was being tested.
In front of her was what appeared to be a mirror, but she was not dull enough to truly believe it was not two-sided. The order had interrogation rooms of their own when the coming of the second war was in full force, she had even witnessed interrogations herself in attempts to learn skills that could become useful to her. Though, she never anticipated herself being on this side of the glass. Someone had to of been studying her, what actions she took, how she reacted to waking up in an unknown place.
She tugged at the ropes again before deciding to try her hand at wandless magic, perhaps creating a scene would finally make someone appear. Though she was weak, her magic was being steadily suppressed. She did what she could to locate the little surge within her, cursing herself lightly as it brought sweat to her brow. Now she wishes she took up Luna's ridiculous offer of meditation, Hermione knew if she took the time to meditate and know herself better this would be no issue. But at the time she was so focused on trying to find out why their efforts in defeating Voldemort failed to be bothered in doing something so silly.
She was beginning to give up as her breath went ragged and she found herself drenched in her own sweat, perhaps whatever they did to suppress her magic made sure she couldn't use it even if she tried. Hermione found herself about to quit, feeling even more hopeless than before. Her thoughts wandered to all the dead, Dumbledore, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Lavender, her parents.
Her parents' death flashed before her eyes once more, the screams of her mother echoing in her mind, her father's pleading eyes begging her for help and then for her to fly. Her mind began to race with the images of the killing curse, her wand emitting a green streak, Bellatrix's laughter, her sinister grin, her eyes roaming over her in anger, her tongue gliding over her wand that was dipped in her mothers' blood, the knife that went through her father.
"STOP!" She screamed, panic surging through her. The images kept appearing over and over, no stop in sight.
Her mind found images of Bellatrix cackling over her as she pinned her further to the floor, her face so close that her breath was brushing against Hermione's cheek. Her eyes black as the night, wide and blood-hungry as she traced her temple down to her chest with a knife. She was screaming something but all Hermione could hear was her own screams mixed with the threatening song of 'Mudblood'. Pain was surging her arm, a wet substance felt like it was exploding from her as she shrieked in agonizing pain, screaming for help, screaming for it to stop.
"Harry Potter is Dead!"
The voice rang throughout her mind and body, the echoes of all hope being lost raged through her. She felt her body lift and writhe in pain as the restraints roughly kept her down, blood running down her arms and feet. The once white sheets becoming a crimson red as images of Ron, her classmates, Malfoy hesitating towards Voldemort, Neville hesitating as he spoke out against Voldemort. Harry was alive, he jumped out of Hagrid's arms, everyone scattered, Voldemort and Harry fighting, red and green streaks of light going against each other. Fear, everyone looked out in fear, everyone fighting their own battles as they snuck glances towards the true battle. A large explosion of light, Voldemort and Harry being knocked back, both rendered unconscious. Frustration, the killing curse flying past her, others attempting to help Harry, more trying to grab Voldemort, panic. Everyone falling, muggle explosions erupting around them, more panic, screams, people sprinting past her, members of the Order screaming, sinister laughs coming from a corridor, a stream of red coming in contact with her. Pain, screaming, and panting, shouts coming from all around her. Harry running towards her, she was on the ground, her eyes barely making out her surroundings as the Order called for a retreat.
"NO, PLEASE!" Hermione gasped out in pain, a light blinding her as her body continued to twist and turn on its own.
"We should have listened," The voice of her once lover rang out, feeling ten times louder than it should. His voice bouncing off the walls of the room as more images filled her mind. Cho Chang's body puddling out with blood, the nurse's bloodying arms as the girl's nails pierced her skin as she cried out for help. Spilled intestines, nurses hands, shoving back in, more screams, more shouting. Others on the floor, head wounds, missing limbs, dead everywhere. Ron in front of her screams and crying from Molly, Harry holding on, eyes vacant, eyes gone. Ginny, looking towards Neville, Neville hurting himself, blood. Ron sitting on a bed, wasting away, slowly becoming nothing. Legs gone, his pleading eyes, a vile, Bellatrix.
"I killed another Weasley!"
Blood was seeping out of Hermione's mouth, a very distinct copper smell filled the air. A bright light blinded her, she could feel herself slipping away. Someone must have come to contain her, to knock her out, to make her shut up. When she finally came to, the room was destroyed. She lay in a corner, her arms above her head as if she was protecting herself from something. Bits of what was her mattress were still falling down from above her, if she squinted her eyes just enough she could forget where she was, she could forget that all of her friends were most likely dead. She could forget the world, forget reality, she could pretend she was just waking up to morning snow. Her parents would knock on her door, they would all be extremely excited to go out and build snowmen, have snowball fights, and make snow angels.
Angels.
Hermione no longer believed in Angels. If there was such a thing she was almost positive they would have saved her from this predicament by now. They would have saved her parents. But they didn't, they let her suffer, let them suffer, let her friends suffer. No, there were no angels.
"I told you." A voice confidently rang out from in front of her.
Hermione's vision faded in and out, her eyes struggled to stay open. She felt hands gripping her arms, holding her up just barely as those in front of her conversed. Her eyes blinked open and she was able to lift her head just a touch, she took in black marble.
Her eyes shut against her will, her head dipped down without her say so.
"Yes, it seems you had." Another voice coyly claimed, his voice soft and unpleasant all at the same time.
"She's the one from the prophecy!" A female voice claimed out in almost joy, a restlessness could be heard as she practically cried out of enthusiasm. It disturbed Hermione in a way that was all too familiar.
She lifted her head again, this time she could feel that it was pounding. Her eyes just barely opened once again, squinting against the harsh light in front of her. This time she could make out a few figures, none of which she was able to identify with the state of her vision.
Her head dipped down again and she grunted in frustration? In pain? She didn't know. But it alerted those in front of her.
"The Mudblood will provide great uses for us," the coy-voiced man rang out.
"Yes, yes! Let me have her, please! Let me have her!" The woman could be heard practically jumping about.
She was becoming more conscious, more aware of herself as she finally was able to feel her wounds. She felt the way her wrists burned and ached, how it felt as though she were still bleeding and who knows? She just might be. Her ankles also felt a similar burn and ache, although it was still hard to tell as her legs were numb from the angle her captors held her.
"My lord, if I may," the original voice drawled, sounding confident and cocky.
"Hmm?"
"Lend her to me," the man started, she heard footsteps coming towards her and she began to do her best to put up a fight. The man now only a few steps in front of her chuckled and grabbed her by her jaw, jerking her face upwards. Her eyes were now wide open and more focused, she was in the presence of Voldemort and his top Generals.
"No!" Shrieked Bellatrix, "that shrew is promised to me!" She seethed. No doubt Hermione was meant to glide right into the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and she had little question as to why.
"Silence," Voldemort rang out, raising a hand towards her in motion to stop. Bellatrix quickly shut her mouth and pouted in a corner. "My Viceroy Supreme, what brings this sudden interest ins the Mudblood?"
"My Lord, if we take the time to assess the situation, the Order truly has no clue as to why or how we infiltrated one of their bases. Furthermore, as we have taken multiple prisoners there would be little question as to why Hermione Granger was taken. I purpose that we begin propaganda, start airing and printing Hermione Granger as an ally of our regime. Let her become known as the girl who joined the Dark Side, who aided us with information, paint her to be a person who was so disgusted in her own kind that she now hunts them down along with us."
Hermione protested, she wanted to scream, to beg just to be killed than be used as another pawn. But when she opened her mouth nothing would ring out, they silenced her before she could get a word out.
"Ah, yes. My young protégé, you have done well. Yes, we shall use this Mudblood in such a way, there is little doubt of the betrayal they will feel. Yes, this will even bring more flocking to us with the amount of power her words hold with them."
"Yes, my Lord. If I could, I have one more request," Malfoy challenged, his eyes never left hers for a second.
"Speak and it shall be yours."
"She will be my bride."