Chapter 5 – The Marked One
T/W: Mentions of Torture/Assault
Hermione's eyes widened with fear as Malfoy ripped his shirt sleeve open to reveal the Dark Mark. She gasped. It was horrifying to behold. The Mark was writhing almost as if a parasite was slithering just below Malfoy's pale skin. It was outlined in a sickly red, as if the edges of the Mark were infected. Her eyes shot up to Malfoy's, who was peering at her intently with a contorted grimace on his skin.
"This will be unpleasant Granger." Draco spoke flatly and with a slow lift and flourish of his wrist, Malfoy disappeared beneath swirling dark robes and a gleaming mask. The emotionless silver facade turned in her direction and with a second flick, glowing restraints encircled her wrists. A small sob escaped her. This was it, she wept internally, she was about to vanish inside this stunning prison. She tried to cling to the hope that maybe Harry or the Order would come back from her, but she knew better. They would not risk losing "the Chosen One" a second time. If she was honest with herself, her life being lost in exchange for Voldemort's downfall was a small price to pay.
"Come with me and do not attempt to escape me." Malfoy commanded, "Only the Dark Lord and those of Malfoy blood can leave these walls."
"And apparently Dobby." Hermione thought bitterly.
She gave a curt nod and grimaced as she stood up. Her legs wobbled slightly, apparently still unstable. She noticed Malfoy give a nearly imperceptible start towards her unstable movement. She promptly held up a hand.
"Do not help me Malfoy." Her voice raw and amber eyes blazing. "I'll face him on my own."
She started awkwardly for the door, curls wild and tangled with blood, the simple cotton nightgown flowing behind her. Malfoy's gloved hand shot out and spun her around to face him. Hermione was startled at how close Malfoy was when he raised her face gently with a single finger, demanding she lift her eyes to him.
"Bellatrix is child's play next to him." Malfoy hissed, his voice dark and low, "Do not speak and do not be a hero."
Hemione's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't been this close to another wizard in many months. Malfoy's mask tilted down towards her; no eyes visible but still seeing. Unexpectedly, Malfoy's finger slid from under her chin and crept along the swell of her cheek. It came to rest on her cheekbone. The glove's soft leather a drastic change from the abrasive scratching of Bellatrix's nails. Unwittingly, a low sigh dropped from her lips. The space between them grew hushed and thick.
Malfoy abruptly jerked away and strode towards to the door. He wrenched the door open and motioned for Hermione to follow him. She stood there, head spinning slightly.
He had warned her. He had touched her.
She shook her head violently. No, why would Pureblood Draco Malfoy try to help a Muggleborn like her? Was this some sick, twisted Pureblood fantasy? Bastard!
Hermione took a deep breath, wincing at the tenderness of her recently healed ribs, and walked to where Draco Malfoy stood waiting to escort her towards one of the darkest wizards in existence.
As she limped ahead of him down the corridor, Draco used the silence to prepare his mind from the Dark Lord. He couldn't let the Dark Lord see that he had almost assisted Granger nor the forbidden and involuntary reaction he had to her outburst earlier. Draco had been stunned by the determination in her voice and was darkly fascinated by her strength. She was potentially marching to her own death with a fire and elegance he knew few possessed. Hidden behind his mask and spurred by her unwavering resolve, Draco had unconsciously traced the curve of Granger's soft cheek. Despite her gaunt appearance, he had been surprised by the striking loveliness Granger held in that moment. Her amber eyes, lined with soft lashes, had regarded him with curiosity and uncertainty. Then that sound had flowed unbidden, from her lips. It had resonated throughout Draco's entire being like a Phoenix's song, leaving him bewildered. How dare she?! He Occluded that image behind a particularly robust wall. He couldn't let the Dark Lord know he felt any ounce of remorse, sympathy, or other illicit sentiments. Draco was becoming increasingly concerned that a growing number of memories were beginning to take shelter there.
Draco shook his head to clear the final memory sorting connections and focused instead on the marks Granger carried. The 'mudblood' scar presented no surprise. Bellatrix was a particular fan of cursed blades. That injury stood little chance of healing properly and any scar it might produce would never fade. He carried similar scars of his own. However, Draco was intensely curious and vaguely disturbed regarding the peculiar second mark. Due to his family's immense library covering of all kinds of magic, including Dark magic, Draco recognized this mark was like no other. The symbol was runic in nature and appeared to be embedded within Granger's being. Just like the Dark Mark. Just like Potter's scar. Yet, this mark did not feel like Light or Dark magic. It felt ambivalent. Nearly Grey, almost elemental. Bellatrix had observed the mark and reacted with a singular mania Draco did not know she possessed. Whatever the mark was, it was ghastly news for Granger. It had captured the Dark Lord's personal notice and she would pay dearly for it.
As they reached the landing above the cavernous Grand Foyer, Hermione gazed up towards the wondrous ceiling of stars and sparkling celestial bodies. Knowing these were possibly her last moments of breath, Hermione wanted her eyes full of soaring comets, dusty swirls of nebula, and the radiance of many suns. She only had the tiniest of warnings when Malfoy made a strangled sound beside her. He crumpled to floor and writhed in agony. Her eyes flew open as her body was locked into a full-body bind. Feeling herself lift, Hermione's body levitated down the stairwell where she landed softly in front of the snake-like visage of Voldemort. His crimson eyes gleamed at Hermione while his slit-like nostrils flared in delight.
"Bella informed me that you've been hiding magic. Magic that doesn't belong to you." He declared, his thin lips curling in disgust. "Let's see this symbol, shall we?"
Hermione felt her arm crack away from the body bind. A small flick of Voldemort's pale finger snapped her wrist upwards painfully. She shivered when his cold hands wrapped around her wrist and a long, jagged nail probed over the delicate mark. A circle of masked Death Eaters surrounded Hermione and Voldemort, making no movement as if holding a collective breath. Voldemort's eyes darted to Hermione's amber ones and he released a dark and surprisingly rich laugh. A few Death Eaters joined in.
"Bella, my most loyal follower." He proclaimed, "What a treasure you have found us!"
Treasure!? Had Voldemort gone mad? How was SHE a treasure? Hermione's mind reeled. Bellatrix stepped forward and bowed low.
"Forgive me, my Lord." Her voice probing and timid, "How is this disgusting Mudblood considered a treasure?"
"You dare question your Lord and Master?" Voldemort replied darkly, a threat laced within the words, "Hold your tongue on things you cannot comprehend!"
"Apologies, my Lord." Bellatrix whispered and creeped back into formation.
"My Death Eaters, my most devoted acolytes!" Voldemort announced, his voice resonating, "This one bears the mark of a most Dark and Ancient One! Her powers, once realized and released, can be used to our advantage!" His mouth wide in a terrifying smile.
Hermione was utterly flabbergasted. Voldemort had just declared her in possession of ancient magic. Combined with the cryptic words Mr. Lovegood had previously spoken, she began to feel ill. Hermione was not special. Sure, she had grasped some spell work faster than others and understood magic on a deeper level but that was because she studied diligently and possessed a natural intelligence. No, obviously, splitting his soul has caused Voldemort's mind to shatter completely. She had seen both Harry and Ron's reactions to carrying a single shard of this monster's soul. Around her, Voldemort's laughter had died down and the smile slipped from his face.
"However," his expression swiftly turning sour, "You failed to contain Harry Potter and his allies." He prowled the inner circle, passing by each Death Eater, assessing. One by one, they shrunk back. Suddenly, one masked wizard dropped to the ground, grunting and thrashing.
"Lucius." He murmured silkily, "You have failed me yet again. See how your heir suffers for your many shortcomings."
Eyes turned to observe the younger Malfoy's still, slumped form at the top of the staircase. Hermione gasped when she saw a drop of blood fall from the higher level to a small pool collected below. Voldemort spun around at the sound.
"Yes, Marked One, the son shall suffer the sins of the father. Only then will Lucius learn the depth of my disappointment in him."
"You are a monster!" Hermione growled vehemently.
Voldemort flew to her bound body and clutched her throat, lightly squeezing. A soft chuckle emanated from him.
"I may be a monster." he intoned, "But you, my wicked prize, are capable of much darker matters."
Hermione flinched, even his breath was cool. No warmth existed within this man, no indication that he was even living. Her muscles were beginning to ache horribly from the body bind, the pain potions from earlier beginning to wear off. She fixated on Voldemort's scarlet eyes and bared her teeth.
"I'll never help you." She ground out, fury laced in every word. Voldemort's eyes glittered with malice and he bared his teeth in return.
"I never said I needed 'your' help." He taunted and released her throat. A quick flourish of his wand and Hermione was dumped onto the floor. "Lucius, the Marked One is now your ward. Do not fail me again or I will delight in tearing your family to pieces. Now, take her away."
Voldemort and the Death Eaters Apparated out of the Grand Foyer, leaving the Malfoy family and Hermione alone. She cautiously glanced up where Lucius Malfoy was still kneeling on the floor and trembling, his eyes full of hatred and revulsion. Mrs. Malfoy was briskly ascending the stairs to attend to Malfoy. Hermione slowly stood, careful not to make sudden movements.
"You are fortunate the Dark Lord had chosen to prolong your miserable existence, you foul creature!" Lucuis shouted, "Crucio!"
Electric spasms wracked Hermione's already weak body and without a wand, she was powerless to stop the Elder Malfoy's assault. Luckily, his cast wasn't nearly as strong as Bellatrix. Hermione shrieked as the familiar pain snaked through her small frame.
"Father." A tired voice called out, "We still need her alive. The Dark Lord granted her as our ward. As unsavory a task that might be, we cannot disappoint him again."
Lucius Malfoy abruptly ended the spell and sniffed in disdain at the Younger Malfoy's disruption. Hermione shuddered on the ground, a tiny part of her relieved Malfoy had intervened.
"Ciskey." Malfoy ordered, directing his glare at Hermione as the crest-clad elf from earlier appeared, "Return her to the Beauvert Suite and make sure the door is secure."
"Marked One, come with me." Ciskey gestured to the stairs. Hermione stood crookedly and followed the elf, utterly exhausted and unable to process the dangerous situation she was in.
Draco sat hunched on the edge of his four-poster bed, swishing around a heavy crystal tumbler of Firewhiskey. As he watched the amber liquid swirl, he balked at the precarious position his family was now in. They had been declared personally responsible for Granger's well-being and this unspoken magic the Dark Lord had decided to pursue had created more questions than answers. Draco scoffed into the glass before taking a large gulp. A quiet knock at the door interrupted his musings.
"My darling boy," Narcissa spoke, "You know Firewhiskey and Blood-Replenishing potion do not mix." She snatched the crystal from his fingers. He snorted. Mixing liquor with healing potions had not been his concern. Narcissa set the glassware down and turned to Draco.
"I do not care for the situation our family is caught within. However, we were not given a choice otherwise." She stated matter-of-factly. "The girl will reside in the Beauvert Suite. I have tasked Ciskey with keeping her alive and ready for the Dark Lord's summons. You do not need to concern yourself with her." She walked to Draco's side and gently took his hands.
"Are you alright, my dear?" Concern written in her pale blue eyes.
Draco sighed and nodded.
"Yes, Mother. However, I am exhausted and would like to retire." He gave her hand a quick pat and stood up. Narcissa nodded and headed for the door bidding Draco a good night. Draco rolled his eyes. He hadn't had a good night in many years. His body bore many cuts and scars, but his mind was far more damaged. He had been plagued with nightly terrors that never seemed to end. He usually resorted to Dreamless Sleep to shut out the demons, but he knew he was walking a delicate line of addiction. He grabbed the remaining Firewhiskey and knocked it back. The small pale purple bottle of Dreamless Sleep sat waiting for him, promising at least a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep. He snatched up the bottle, pulled the stopper, and went to tilt the contents into his cracked lips when he paused. Granger. She had been viciously torn from her friends, tortured, and forced to be a prisoner of the Dark Lord. All in a singular day. Draco pictured her quietly weeping, pain still wracking her tender bones without a single bit of comfort or knowledge she'd survive another night. He sighed deeply.
"Ciskey."
POP
"Master Draco?" Ciskey's golden-yellow eyes waiting and watching.
"Bring this Dreamless Sleep to Granger. Tonight will be agony for her. Tell no one." He snapped, handing the tiny vial over.
"Yes, Ciskey will bring this to the Marked One." Ciskey curtseyed and disappeared.
Draco sighed again and vanished the blood-soaked clothes from earlier. He eyed the large Firewhiskey bottle. He had been through hell today, a nasty headache tomorrow would be a small price to pay.
POP
"Arghhhhhh!" Hermione screeched, startled by the sudden appearance of a house elf. The elf looked at her in terror, obviously worried that punishment was incoming.
"I'm sorry!" She said quickly, hoping to stop the elf's impending self-punishment they were so well-known for, "You surprised me, that's all!"
"Marked One," the elf addressed her, "I am Ciskey. I have been tasked with your well-being and have been instructed to bring you this Dreamless Sleep by Master Draco." Ciskey produced an amethyst bottle filled with a clear liquid. Hermione examined the elf and the vial it held. She reached out and gingerly took it.
"Ciskey will go now. Rest, Marked One." They assured and turned to leave.
"Please, wait!" Hermione exclaimed, "You said Malfoy sent this vial to me?"
The tiny elf nodded, its large ears flopping.
"He knew you'd be in pain tonight." They replied simply. "Does the Marked One require anything else of Ciskey?"
Hermione shook her head and watched Ciskey vanish. She staggered over to the massive bed, climbed between the plush sheets, and uncorked the bottle. She studied the contents for a moment then looked up to observe the moon shining luminously through the gracefully arched windows. Hermione took a deep breath and tilted the bottle back.
"Thank you Malfoy." She breathed and fell into a dreamless space.
Little did Hermione know that Draco was observing her reaction through a crack of the door nor did she see the ghost of a smile touch Draco's lips when she had spoken his name in gratitude.