Chapter 3 – Demons
T/W: Depiction of torture/violence
Hermione felt her mouth go dry and her heart begin rapidly beating in fear. Ron heaved violently next to her while Harry stilled, a look of horror across his features. With a flick of their wand, the gates opened before Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Well, well." A hysterical cackle bubbling from her throat. "If it isn't the Chosen One, the blood traitor Weasley, and their filthy pet Mudblood. The Dark Lord will be pleased to hear of your arrival. Knollwood," Bellatrix addressed the towering Snatcher restraining Ron, "Take our guests inside. I am sure Draco will be delighted to see his former classmates."
"Malfoy?" Hermione thought in confusion. "Why would he want to see us?"
As Knollwood dragged her forward, she could feel death pulsing from the imposing structure ahead. Nothing light existed here and her entire being shuddered from that bleak energy. Her captor yanked her forward and through the gates towards the looming building. Upon reaching a massive set of double doors pulsing with protective magic, Knollwood pulled up his sleeve and revealed the writhing serpentine Dark Mark to the imposing entryway. The magic stilled momentarily and abruptly swung inwards to reveal an expansive room. Hermione gasped at the absolute splendor contained beyond those doors. Cool marble floors, a colossal stone fireplace that could easily accommodate several wizards, exquisitely upholstered furniture, and a double set of winding staircases richly carpeted with ornate banisters. But what truly took Hermione's breath away was the vaulted ceiling soaring above her. It was a rich, inky blue color lined with gilded arches and supported by enormous stained-glass windows that were twinkling and flashing, a perfect replica of the stars and cosmos. It reminded Hermione of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. She thought only Hogwarts had that kind of elemental magic. Had she not been so horrified about their predicament, she could cry tears at the sheer magnificence of it all.
"I wasn't expecting guests, but dear Bellatrix insisted on a private audience.", a smooth voice remarked coolly from a large, leather chair located close to the fireplace, facing away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. A lovely woman with a haughty expression stood nearby observing. Her silvery-blue eyes viewed the Snatchers with obvious irritation. She gracefully bent towards the chair, holding a crystal snifter of amber liquid, and whispered to the unseen figure. The owner of the voice ascended slowly and turned to face the Trio.
"No." Hermione gasped.
"You!" Harry seethed; his teeth clenched. Ron said nothing but lunged in an attempt to attack the owner of the cool voice.
Lucius Malfoy.
Hermione trembled. They were in Malfoy Manor. This palatial building was Malfoy Manor. Her vision began to swim in and out of focus as she realized they may not make it out of this place alive.
"The Dark Lord will be most pleased that we've managed to catch Harry Potter and his ragged band of Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors." He hissed in glee. "Put them in the dungeon with the others, Knollwood."
With a forceful tap of his silver-tipped cane, he turned back to the fireplace while Knollwood and his gang begin dragging the Trio down a dimly lit corridor that was decidedly less decorous and smelled of dampness and despair. Knollwood yanked open a non-descript door and one by one, the Trio was shoved into a dark, windowless room with a single torch illuminating the green-tinged stone walls.
(Earlier in the East Wing of the Manor)
"Draco." Narcissa Malfoy commanded, delicately tossing her silvery-blonde hair. "I am confident you are well aware who they have brought into this house."
Draco flinched. He already carried the burden of Dumbledore's death and the others who had died when he had allowed Death Eaters into Hogwarts that fateful evening. He truly didn't want the death of Potter and the others as well, no matter how infuriating they were. He only wanted to protect his family from that creature formerly known as Tom Riddle.
"Draco," a soft voice urged, "Listen to me." Draco sighed and met his mother's eyes.
"Enough blood has been spilled here." She spoke, her voice forceful. "I will not tolerate the death of our last chance to escape this."
Through the murderous seizure of their beautiful Manor, the torture and punishments meted out to her only son, and her husband's private constant terror of a summons from the Dark Lord, Narcissa Malfoy (nee Black) had had enough. She knew, with Harry Potter under her roof, her family might have a chance to escape this madman.
Draco gaped at his mother. Draco had never heard his mother speak so directly on any matter. No Pureblood, especially a Slytherin, spoke without a duplicitous interpretation of their statement. Straightforward statements were for Gryffindors. Plausible deniability had always been the house rule. He wondered if this was a trap meant to catch him speaking ill-will of the Dark Lord. He eyed her warily.
"What do you suggest we do Mother?" he spoke slowly, watching her closely.
"I shall speak to Severus on how to handle this matter. You will know what to do when the moment comes." Her tone brokering no room for further argument. Draco nodded. No amount of Polyjuice Potion could mimic centuries of Pureblood breeding and etiquette.
"I already made an Unbreakable Vow to assist your feeble son Narcissa. What else do you expect of me?" Snape demanded, his robes billowing as he rounded on her in the main hallway.
"Find a way to contact the Potter boy's allies." She challenged, a haughty expression on her face. "I know you care for his life."
Snape's black eyes blazed at the Malfoy Matriarch and a sneer creeped across his lips.
"How would I know of Potter's allies?" his eyes leveled on Narcissa, daring her to accuse him further.
"Severus, you know I do not bear the Dark Mark and I certainly have no loyalty to that hideous monster that has defiled my home with his dark magic and the blood of others." She stated angrily, her ice blue eyes flashing defiantly. "I am also aware that you assisted the recently deceased Dumbledore against the Dark Lord."
"You lie!" Snape hissed, moving towards Narcissa. She quickly held up a pale and willowy hand to stop him.
"I have no intention of using this information again you Severus. I only wish to protect my family. Especially Draco." Her voice softening, "He has been tortured mercilessly by Bellatrix and nearly maimed by the Dark Lord for his 'failure' of Dumbledore's assassination. He shall carry those scars for the remainder of his life. I will no longer tolerate the spilled blood of my only child."
Snape's sneer lessened slightly while he observed Narcissa, slowly gauging the truth of her words. He released an exasperated sigh.
"Do you remember that horrid elf Potter released from your family during second year?"
"Harry Potter?" Came a quiet voice from the corner.
The figure of Luna Lovegood emerged from the shadows; their long, blonde hair softly illuminated by the torchlight. A smaller figure stood to Luna's left, a goblin Harry greeted as Griphook.
"I knew I'd see you three soon." Luna commented airily, as if they weren't currently trapped in Malfoy Manor's underground dungeon. "Didn't I tell you Griphook?"
The goblin squinted at Luna in the dim light, sharp teeth visible in what Hermione determined was a grimace.
"Yes, Seer of the House of Lovegood." Griphook remarked dryly. "Now foretell our escape from this dreadful place."
"Luna, how did you get in here?" Ron demanded irritably, "Your father tried to kill us to find you!" His voice rising and face flushing. Luna slowly turned to Ron with a serene smile on their face.
"Of course he did. He sensed I had been taken and that a betrayal of his own kind might match the betrayal of years past." Luna declared, looking at the Trio as if their statement had been about the weather.
"What are you going on about Lovegood?" Ron barked.
"Harry and Ron, I believe Griphook has some information that might be useful regarding the Sword of Gryffindor." Luna then ushered the two wizards and goblin to a corner of the enclosed space.
Turning to look at Hermione, Luna tilted their head inquisitively and beckoned Hermione closer.
"And you," Luna whispered, "Have heard the ancients' voice and bear their mark."
Hermione opened her mouth to deny Luna's words when a loud screech and the dungeon door was slammed open.
"You lot!" yelled a masked Death Eater, "Bellatrix has some questions for you."
Hermione's heart thudded in her ribcage. She prayed Draco Malfoy wasn't so far gone that he would willingly hand over his fellow classmates to a megalomaniac. A shadow flitted over across Malfoy's features and was replaced with a weary, slightly dead expression. He glanced over to Narcissa Malfoy, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Draco Malfoy's breath quickened. That filth known as the Snatchers, low-grade kidnappers for hire, had burst into the Manor claiming the capture of the Golden Trio. He had silently hoped in the deep recesses of his mind that Potter, the Weasel, and the Mudbl-, no, Granger, had been clever enough to properly hide from the Dark Lord's unsavory thugs. But now, his psychotic aunt urged him to confirm their identities as they knelt, magically bound, in the Manor's Formal Hall. He knew who was before him, even if they were under Polyjuice Potion or some glamour spell, Draco would recognize Potter and his brave Gryffindors anywhere. They could change their appearances but not their personalities. Ron was struggling against Knollwood's second-in-command, Finnegan.
Heroic, but stupid Gryffindor.
And Granger. Her wide, amber eyes pleading Malfoy to keep their secret. Draco squirmed at the base fear and desperation in those eyes. He struggled knowing that Granger had placed such utter faith in him. Why did she have to look at him like that? Draco just wanted his mother safe. He didn't need another witch to worry about. Granger was smart, he admitted begrudgingly. She could figure out how to save herself and those two bumbling Gryffindors. Draco inhaled deeply.
"I can't be sure." Draco answered carefully. "They've obviously used some sort of glamour spell or Polyjuice Potion in order to gain entry to the Dark Lord's most secure safehouse. The Order wouldn't be stupid enough to let Chosen One roam about freely and get captured."
Draco felt the group of Snatchers and a couple Death Eaters shift uncomfortably at this potential accusation.
"We wouldn't want to prematurely summon the Dark Lord for couple of decoys." Draco drawled, hoping his response was casual enough to deflect Bellatrix's suspicion. Bellatrix hissed, unsatisfied.
"Throw these two back in the dungeon. This way, if they are decoys," gesturing to Ron and Harry while Bellatrix shot a look of contempt towards Draco, "The effects will wear off soon."
"However, I'd like to have a word with this one." She muttered, a Cheshire-like grin spreading across her face as she turned towards Hermione.
'Girl to girl."
Hermione's throat was ragged from screaming and begging. Through the haze of the Cruciatus Curse's aftereffects, she did not think she had ever understood such endless pain. Bellatrix has shrieked into Hermione's ear while painfully pulling on her ragged and sweat-soaked curls. Hermione was quite sure Bellatrix has managed to pull out a large clump from her scalp and her blood was gently pooling on the black-veined marble floor. Earlier the eldest Black sister had throttled Hermione and slammed her to the floor, knocking her breathe away, and demanded to know how Hermione had stolen the Sword of Gryffindor from the LeStrange vault. Hermione had pleaded over and over, denying they had taken anything. Which oddly enough had been the truth, but Bellatrix would not be dissuaded. Bellatrix sat straddled over Hermione's prone body, causing Hermione to gasp for breath.
"Do you see this, little Mudblood?" Bellatrix purred, holding a silver dagger in her hand. She rotated it with an uncharacteristic gentleness and absolute devotion. The triangular blade etched with delicate markings and affixed to an ornately carved dark green jade handle glinted in the light.
"See these carvings? They are meant to make sure the wound never heals," Her eyes lighting up with malice, "But killing with it is much more delightful. Let us see if this blade can't loosen your tongue!"
Bellatrix snatched Hermione arm and twisted it to expose the soft underside. Bellatrix began running the tip up and down Hermione's flesh. Hermione was thrashing with all the strength she could manage, but after several rounds of the torturous Unforgivable and blood loss, she felt as if she were moving in molasses. Then Bellatrix made the first cut.
Hermione released a piercing, guttural scream. It felt as if someone was dragging a red-hot poker through her veins. Bellatrix held her head to the ground and Hermione felt her muscles straining and snapping as her body's flight response maxed out. She even felt her magic reaching out, trying to escape the agony. Hermione did not know how long she had endured the cruelty of that blade. Screams no longer echoed from her throat. In the haze of further blood loss and anguish, Hermione was sure her vocal cords were damaged, her skin irreversibly broken, and her muscles torn. As tears fell, Hermione wished for death. This way she could truly rest. No more running. No more Horcrux hunting. No more war.
Hermione was vaguely aware that the cutting had momentarily stopped, and that Bellatrix was screaming at her once again.
"How did you steal the Sword of Gryffindor from my vault?" Bellatrix demanded once again. "Tell me you filthy, disgusting creature!"
Hermione attempted to swallow and was barely able to croak out another denial.
"I promise you. We didn't take anything. Please." She pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bellatrix sneered, plainly skeptical of Hermione's answer, and turned to resume cutting when she unexpectedly stilled. Hermione felt Bellatrix lift her wrist and inspect it closely. Hermione jerked in realization. The magical scar! She had completely forgotten about it and the concealer must have rubbed off.
"Looks like someone had their fun with you before me. What delightful little magic has poisoned you?" she cooed. Hermione whimpered, Bellatrix's nails digging in her tender skin. Hermione heard Bellatrix take a sharp intake of breath.
"HOW?!" Bellatrix shrieked, "WHERE DID YOU GET THIS MARK?!"
Bellatrix twisted Hermione's wrist to her line of vision.
"Mudblood," Bellatrix snarled, "How did this symbol come to be?" Gripping Hermione's arm even tighter. Hermione recoiled at the venom in Bellatrix's voice.
"It just appeared, I swear! Someone touched me and it burned. I don't know what it is!" Hermione cried, "Please STOP."
Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's face between her slender fingers and jerked her face into focus.
"I'm not done with you yet. The Dark Lord will want to hear of this development." Bellatrix scoffed. With that she slid off Hermione's body and snapped her fingers. A small house elf appeared, wrapped in a dirty yellow tea towel.
"Clean this thoroughly. Its covered with filth." She commanded, throwing the dagger flippantly to the creature. The tiny being caught the dagger, trembling with fear. It turned its gaze to Hermione, where its orb-like eyes widened slightly. Hermione could have sworn she saw the creature bow discreetly in her direction. Why would a Malfoy elf bow to her? Her vision started to fade and Hermione let her body lapse into unconsciousness.
"Oh, and have Draco clean up this mess."