Warning: This chapter contains attempted rape / sexual assault.
Marcus came over to warn his sister that Bellatrix was going around collecting young couples and leading them out of the hall. She had just paired the Carrow twins with Pucey and Vaisey.
"What sort of a ball is this?" Hermione turned accusingly to Draco, who was drinking champagne with a sour expression as he watched Astoria being walked out with Terrence.
"She and Pansy only spoke to your friends because you danced with me," he muttered. "I was dancing with both of them all evening and they still went off with them! And I'm a much better seeker than Terrence."
"You were dancing with both of them, that's where you went wrong," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.
"Well you've ruined both my relationship AND my courtship."
"Sorry, but I have a bit more at stake here than a relationship." Hermione assumed that they were expected to breed more purebloods in whatever rooms Bellatrix was putting them in. At that moment Bellatrix returned and caught sight of her with an evil glint in her eye, strolling towards them.
"Ah, Draco, darling. Can you handle being a father as well as babysitting my estranged niece's werewolf spawn?"
"Auntie, I'm not with her."
Hermione saw Bole and his enterge of Slytherin boys eyeing her up, sneering. One of them winked and Hermione exchanged a panicked look with Draco before clutching his arm.
"Actually, we are together. He's just embarrassed." Hermione hissed in his ear that it would make Astoria jealous to make him go along with it.
Bellatrix narrowed her dark eyes in suspicion, flicking them between her nephew and Hermione.
"Prove it."
Hermione saw Narcissa watching disapprovingly from a far corner of the room.
Draco knew what his friend expected by this point, and leaned into her kiss. Bellatrix cackled and took Draco's hand with a sickly sweet smile. Hermione held onto his other hand as they were ushered through the crowd, through the front hall, Bellatrix banging on one door as they passed, yelling 'Are you done yet?' They were pushed into a side room that had covered paintings leaning against every wall, and an old sofa in the middle. Hermione was scared that Bellatrix would watch, but she just told her nephew to enjoy breeding, and locked the door. Draco pushed Hermione away and dry heaved into his hand.
"How long do you take, on average?"
"Fuck off, Flint. I'm actually going to throw up." He flounced onto the sofa dramatically. Hermione added five minutes to three minutes of getting dressed and undressed, and rounded to ten for however long foreplay lasted. They would sit awkwardly in here for ten minutes, then, and leave with ruffled hair, and perhaps a lipstick stain or two. Hermione fidgeted nervously, watching the clock above the painting of a man who had a hand over his eyes and was stuffing parchment into his ears. Another flustered man ran in from a neighbouring portrait before seeing them, cursing, and running out the other side of the canvas. The clock's hand was moving so slowly it seemed to be broken. After just two sluggish minutes, Bellatrix burst in, making them both jump. She had obviously been listening from the other side of the door, because she hauled Draco out.
"You had your chance, run back to your mother now. And as for you, dearie-"
"I have four studs here who'll get the job done."
Hermione's heart sank as Lucian Bole rounded the corner, with Montague, Warrington, and Urquhart flanking him. Bellatrix shut the door and Lucian rolled up his shirt sleeves.
"Father's giving me ten galleons for each witch I impregnate," sneered Urquhart. "But I'll let Lucian have his fun first." He made towards her. Hermione didn't have her wand, so she threw a vase at him. But the burly wizard ignored the ceramic shattering on his suit and lunged at her, knocking her down onto the sofa and restraining her flailing arms.
"MARCUS!" Hermione screamed. "MARCUS HEL-" a hand covered her mouth and Montague cast muffliato on the door. She bit the hand as hard as she could. The dark wizard brought her back to his chest, still locking her arms behind her with one strong arm. Angry tears began to pour from her eyes when she felt his erection. Warrington pushed her leg to her chest and started to grind on it as Bole busied himself getting out of his dress robes.
In sheer desperation, Hermione silently prayed for someone to save her. 'Narcissa help me,' she began to chant inwardly. 'Narcissa please please come they're going to rape me! Please, Narcissa, please help, please unlock the door. Help. Help me help me help me.' Hermione closed her streaming eyes when Bole unzipped his fly and positioned himself in front of her. She writhed with all her might but was no match for the four ex quidditch players holding her down. One of them started to push her dress up, fumbling.
Suddenly, the door burst off its hinges. Hermione's eyes flew open at the sound of a crash and saw Bole turn in shock before he was swept off his feet and flung into the wall with a violent crash, along with Warrington and Montague, by a strong ripple of magic that made her hairs stand on end. Hermione elbowed Urquart hard enough for him to let go, and she jumped up and punched him with uncontrollable anger. A second punch knocked him out, and Hermione wiped her eyes as her saviour rushed towards her. Narcissa's voice rang out, much shriller than usual.
"Did they hurt you?"
Hermione didn't respond, instead looking down at her bloody knuckles unfeelingly. Narcissa's voice was fuzzy and vague in the background.
"I knew something was wrong when Draco came back. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, my sister wasn't supposed to- I had no idea they would… but that's beside the point. Are you alright? Let's get you back."
Numbly, Hermione perceived her tears being soaked up by a handkerchief, her hair being fixed, her dress being smoothed down, and her dissociated body being softly guided past the unconscious young men on the floor, out of the room.
When they were back in the ballroom Hermione fumbled towards the nearest bottle of wine and brought it to her lips.
"NO!" Narcissa reached for the bottle but Hermione ducked out of her way, snapping out of her shock.
"Leave me alone."
Narcissa gripped her waist tightly and prised the bottle from her hand.
"You've had too much to drink."
"I have hardly had enough. Get off of me." She lurched towards the confiscated wine.
"Hermione, what's wrong?"
Her parents appeared and looked accusingly at Narcissa, who allowed Hermione to reclaim her waist.
"Don't hold my daughter like that."
"Mrs Flint, I was merely stopping her from having any more alcohol."
"She's old enough to drink. It's perfectly normal."
Hermione slipped away, fetching another bottle and hurrying past the musicians into the dark garden. The cool night air and fresh scent of petrichor was wonderfully grounding. She stumbled in her impractical shoes, feeling one heel sink into the grass, so she kicked them off and walked barefoot behind the nearest bush, taking a long swill of wine. She heard Narcissa's voice calling her name and increased her speed, moving hazily towards where the night blackened grass met a starless sky.
A sigh sounded from behind, as well as rustling fabric, and a cool, slender hand closed around her wrist.
Hermione whipped around, suddenly irate.
"STOP TOUCHING ME!"
Magic scorched Narcissa's hand and she pulled away in shock. Hermione's heart was racing. She knew it was wrong to shout at a witch of such high status, and to disobey her, but she was furious.
"Do not speak to me like that, child."
Anyone in their right mind would have faltered under such a steely expression and ice cold voice, but Hermione took a step forward.
"What did you mean- 'it wasn't supposed to happen like this'?" She snapped. "So it was supposed to happen, the pureblood breeding, whether I wanted it or not? Did you fucking plan it?"
Narcissa paused. "It wasn't my idea," came her shocked whisper.
Hermione threw back the rest of the wine and cast it to the side.
"I nearly got raped because of you," she thundered, her voice cracking and wavering, unable to stop her tears from falling afresh. "Why did no one tell me this was planned?"
"I'm sorry, oh Hermione, I'm so sorry." Narcissa brushed away her own remorseful tears and stretched out a palm in apology, but Hermione flinched away.
"Please, can we just talk, darling, there's a bench over there."
"Don't fucking call me that." Hermione tried to walk away but her head was spinning. When she closed her eyes to steady herself she heard her own screams and was transported back into Urquhart's arms. Bole's sneering face flashed nauseatingly before her mind, and Hermione vomited on the grass. Narcissa was beside her in an instant, pulling her hair back and steadying her.
She retched and retched until her gut was emptied, and she was left to gag on her own spit. Narcissa cleaned her up and sat them both down on the stone bench.
"You deserve an explanation."
"I deserved a warning, and my wand- which YOU said would ruin my outfit. I deserved someone to stop them before they…"
"I know." Narcissa dropped her face into her hands.
"How did you even know I needed help?"
"You were screaming for me, with your mind. I'm a legilimens. We can't usually hear thoughts, unless they're as loud as you were then. I could feel your fear."
"Have you read my mind before!?"
"No, I would never do that without permission."
Hermione scoffed. She had lost all trust in the Malfoy. Her once fond memories of shopping and dancing with the woman were now coloured by this calculated betrayal. Those moments had been the highlight of her summer, but they were really nothing more than steps in a plan to use her as a baby machine.
"Who's idea was it, if it wasn't yours? And who else knew?"
"The Dark Lord commanded it. The ball itself was to strengthen death eater bonds and alliances, and he wanted more purebloods to be born before the inevitable bloodshed begins. All of your parents had been informed. I assumed they would tell you… but I should have made it clear from the beginning."
Hermione began to sway slightly. She was emotionally and physically exhausted, and began to feel her knuckles stinging. After nearly nodding asleep a few times, Hermione fell onto Narcissa's shoulder.
"Let me walk you to your room- I don't want you in the corridors alone. I'll put wards up so you can sleep safely."
They returned to the Manor through the front door. Narcissa guided Hermione across the front hall. A low groan made its way from a side door. It sounded as though it had come from below their feet.
"What was that?"
Narcissa said nothing, her eyes fixed blankly on the door.
"It was a person. Stop withholding secrets from me!"
"Fine, but it won't help you sleep any better." Narcissa tore her eyes away from the source of the noise in disgust. "Ollivander is in the cellar. The Dark Lord was interrogating him."
Oh. So that was where Ollivander had been kept...
What useful information could a wandmaker possibly have for the Dark Lord?