A/N: Okay, guys, pay attention. This chapter is as bad as the last, if not worse, so if you are easily (or maybe not so easily) grossed out, do us a favor and please don't read. I'm dead serious about this. If you think you can handle it, then by all means, go ahead. But please don't flame me telling me how disturbing it is; I already know, trust me.

Thank you to all of you who reviewed. I know this chapter was long in coming, and I thank you for your patience.

Well, here it is…

Hermione tossed fitfully in the dungeons, dreaming. Every now and then a whimper would escape her lips, alluding to just what sort of dream it was. Her body knew that she needed to get up, and struggled fruitlessly to wake her. But her mind, which was infinitely stronger than her body on the best of days, was stuck in the dream and couldn't get out…

She was running, running endlessly down a dark corridor. She was panting and crying; there was a stitch in her side and her muscles screamed in protest. But she knew that if she stopped even for a second, she would be unable to continue, and he would kill her. So she ran on, but even as she did she knew that soon her body would just collapse into itself, and all hope would be lost for her. She turned a corner, and crashed into a broad chest. That was the last straw for her over tired body; her legs gave out and with a small sob, she fell to the floor.

This was it, she knew. He had found her, and now he would kill her. She tried not to imagine how he would do it. She knew he could make it painless but he wouldn't, he wanted it to be painful, wanted to hear her screams and delight in the sound. There were so many painful ways to die, and she admitted to herself that she really didn't want to, not yet, not before she saw Harry one last time…

"Look at me", he hissed, and Hermione did helplessly, feeling as though hands were on her head, forcing her to look. Green eyes laughed down at her, and Hermione gasped. No, it couldn't be true…not him…never him…

"Oh, yes", he whispered, "Me." He grinned down at her in pure mirth, malice shining out of his eyes and into hers, and still he whispered. "I will break you in every way possible, and when your mind is so much broken glass, I will kill you. You will die with my face in your mind and know that it was I who brought you to such an end. But don't worry just yet," he whispered, seeing the fear in her eyes and loving every second of it, "you're still mostly sane. Soon, though. Soon." Then he laughed, the hollow sound echoing throughout the corridor, and as it echoed all around her Hermione knew that all this monster said was true, that she would die, and as she felt her mind splinter Hermione opened her mouth and screamed…

The scream was all too real, and yanked Hermione out of her nightmare like a slap in the face. Gasping, she hugged herself while tears streamed down her face, repeating, "A dream, just a dream," over and over, voice shaking. For a few moments, she believed she might give herself a heart attack. Her heart was beating so fast, and her head was pounding. A blindness had settled over her. All she could hear was the blood roaring in her ears, all she could feel was the fear and misery that surrounded her, an almost tangible thing in the darkness. Finally, though, she got herself under control, and for the first time since waking felt a presence other than her own. Now she could see him, sitting not two feet from where she lay, a small smile on his lips, shoulders shaking in silent laughter, and she knew that he'd been there to witness her dream. He had watched her torment and had laughed, delighted.

A wave of fury hit her, though not as strong as it had been in the days prior. The days before he'd forced her to—to…the days before the water. Hermione felt tears of humiliation well up in her eyes, but she refused to cry. No way she would let him see how much he affected her…how much he'd hurt her. Not that he didn't know that, she thought wearily as he stood up, a smirk still playing about his lips. He walked over to her, stopping when he was about two inches away. Grinning, he bent down to whisper in her ear, "You're right, you know. You are going to die here." Pulling back, he observed her expressionlessly for a minute, then stood. Without saying a word to her, he turned away and left, leaving Hermione to stare after him in confusion. What was he doing? Was there to be no torture today? Not even daring to hope, she watched the door apprehensively, and sure enough, he came walking through it a few minutes later, bearing a tray of food.

Oh, God, no, Hermione thought desperately, remembering what had happened the last time he'd brought in food. Not again. Please, no. Her captor put the tray down in front of Hermione, not even looking at her, and said, "Eat." She stared at him, waiting for the catch, expecting him to tell her that in order to eat, she'd have to perform a number of tasks, all of which would make her lose the food anyway. But he said nothing, he simply stood there, waiting, and tentatively Hermione reached for the food, all the time expecting him to snatch it from under her nose, laughing cruelly.

When he didn't, Hermione grabbed the food and gobbled it down as fast as she could, not stopping until the plate was completely clean. When it was, her captor picked up the tray and walked out of the dungeons once more, all without so much as glancing at his prisoner. But this time Hermione really couldn't ponder what he was up to, as she was seized with horrible cramps, and no matter how she tried she just couldn't stop her meal from coming back up. She stared at her vomit dispassionately, knowing now why he'd given her the food…and why he hadn't stopped her from eating it. Now she was weaker than before, completely helpless.

It was at this very moment that he walked back in, and, looking first at the pool of vomit and then at Hermione, a small smile forming on his face. "Now, that just wont do", he said, moving towards her once again. Hermione tried to scoot away but he whipped out his want and put a body-binding curse on her, chuckling. "No, it just won't do", he repeated, "You need your strength for the next round." Grinning, he picked Hermione up and set her down next to the mess she had made. Releasing her from the body-bind, he laughed as she started to move away, then hissed, "Imperio!"

Hermione suddenly felt light headed and free, as though nothing really mattered anymore. Not being in the dungeons with a madman disguised as Harry Potter, not the things said madman had done to her, not even the fact that she was surely going to die. All these worries seemed suddenly trivial and unimportant, and a sweet, vague feeling of happiness and content filled her. She relaxed, and felt a loopy smile appear on her face. Life was good. Her captor laughed again, and the laughter echoed in her head in the strangest way, but really, that wasn't all too important either. All that was really important was the hand that was turning her head gently to look at the mess on the floor, and the soft but commanding voice in her head saying, Eat it.

Hermione felt herself complying willingly, picking up whole handfuls of the stuff and putting it in her mouth, swallowing without tasting. A distant part of herself was watching all this with horror, but it didn't matter, because Hermione didn't stop until the vomit was gone. She felt her gorge rise, but that was dim, like the voice in the back of her head that was screaming that this was wrong, that she should stop. Besides, the other voice was telling her to keep it down, and suddenly she didn't feel like throwing up anymore. In fact, she felt fine…better than fine. Then the voice whispered, See that far wall? The one with the chains? Hermione looked at the far wall and nodded; it was quite easy to recognize with the chains glinting in what light there was. The voice continued, Go over there and wait while I chain you up. Still drifting, Hermione once again complied, walking over and waiting patiently while her captor secured the chains to her wrists and ankles, a small, dazed smile on her face. A smile that disappeared abruptly as the curse was taken off, and she realized exactly what she'd done.

Horrified, she turned her head to look at the spot where her partially digested food had lain moments before, praying that she had passed out somehow and dreamed the last few minutes. No such luck, she realized as she saw the empty spot where her vomit had been. Hermione gagged silently. She knew where that had gone. Pale, she turned her horrified gaze to her captor, who was laughing quietly. "I do so love the Imperius Curse", he told her, winking. "It makes the job of forcing someone to submit to your will so much easier."

Still grinning, he reached into his robes and pulled something out. Hermione squinted in the dim light. It looked like…a pair of pliers. But why on earth would he want with those?

Her captor didn't make her wonder for long. His eyes followed her gaze and his grin grew wider. He leaned toward her as if to confide a great secret, and whispered, "You see, mudblood, I made myself a promise a long time ago. I promised that I would torture you, and then kill you. Now, of all the ways I thought of in which to do this, there was one that I really liked. Do you know what that was?" Hermione didn't respond, but he didn't seem to notice, or care. His smile turned more maliciously cruel than she could believe possible, and continued, "No? Well then, let me show you," and proceeded to rip her fingernails off, one by one.

Hermione screamed as agony tore through her. White hot knives of pain shot up and down her body as he continued, pausing only to look at the pain in her eyes and in her screams and revel in it, an expression of elation crossing his face as each scream tore itself from Hermione's throat.

And scream she did. It was her only outlet for the enormous pain that consumed her, threatening to destroy her. She screamed until her throat was raw, and still she kept on, letting out harsh barks instead of the wailing screams of before. Then, as she lost her voice and could do no more than open and close her mouth in a silent, endless scream, she couldn't take it anymore, and her body shut down in self defense, her mind retreating as far away from the pain as it could possibly get as darkness finally claimed Hermione and she pas

~****~

She had held out for much longer than he'd thought she would, much longer than he'd dared to hope. Screaming in endless bursts, she'd tried to struggle, but the chains held her in place. He'd managed to go through her whole left hand before she'd suddenly stopped struggling and making noise, body going limp. Furiously, he kicked her, wanting her awake so that he could enjoy his torture, but the filth didn't move, she only hung limply and bled. Angry that it was over for the time being, he let her bleed, knowing that she would not die just yet. He left her hanging there and stormed back upstairs, trying to calm himself before he went back home to that twit of a Gryffindor.

Draco observed himself closely in the nearest mirror, and grimaced. Gods, how he hated Potter…almost as much as he hated the mudblood. But pretending to be in love with him did have its perks. It had kept him close to the mudblood, for one, and now that she was missing, it kept him from suspicion, as well. It had also given him the idea for the mindfuck he was pulling on the mudblood. It was amusing to watch her face as she saw the person she loved the most in the world doing all this to her…not that he planned on keeping with this ruse to the end. No, in the end, it would be his face she saw, not Potter's. But for now, it was an amusing game.

Noting that he was covered with blood, Draco shook his head. Now, that just wouldn't do. He preformed a cleaning charm on himself and with an evil smile, Apparated home, where he was received by the too trusting Harry. But that night, as Harry wept with missing Hermione he caught the small smile on Draco's face that his lover couldn't hide, and began to think to himself.

It was quite possible Draco had underestimated Harry Potter.