A/N: sorry, a bit late, my computers been down for a while. Thanks to Olivia, my bud, for helping me with this chappie, You are my psycho lemon-goddess!

Chapter 8: Violation

Hermione practically ran down the street, pushing baby Fiona along with her. Stupid, idiotic Harry and Ron! She thought. They don't own me!

She entered a small clearing, and stopped. A few birds were chirping, and the daisies were swaying happily in the breeze. Something about that was eerily calming, the quietness and normal monotony of it all. It almost made her forget she was the wife of a Dead Death Eater, a widow of the wizarding world. Almost.

A stray tear slipped down her cheek. Where had that come from? She thought. An odd chill ran down her neck and straight into her spine. The daisies, she noticed, were no longer swaying, and seemed almost frozen into position. She pulled Fiona out of her stroller, and wrapped her protective arms around her. If only she could find her wand.

A sheet of frozen air blew into the two of them. Fiona yelped in fright, and Hermione shuddered. Her limbs seemed to be made of Jell-O, the way they were acting. A jolt shot into her. This could only mean one thing…..

Draco faced the Dark Lord, silent begging in his eyes. The red, snake-like slits focused on him, and the almost taloned hand pulled out a wand. "I have had enough of you, Malfoy," Voldemort muttered. "You have betrayed me one last time."

"No," Draco whispered, just as Voldemort yelled, "CRUCIO!"

Screams filled the hall, as Draco began to twitch and writhe. Blood began to flow from the most sensitive parts of his body,and dripped to the ground. It was the screams that hurt her themost, screams that came from her rock, her steadfast man, the one who protected her from all harm……the screams wouldn't stop.

"No," Hermione groaned, holing her head. "This isn't happening. Not again. NOT HERE!":

Clutching the wailing Fiona, she drew her wand. Her mind flew to her wedding night, back to soft sheets, and Draco's tender hands.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A shining silver otter flew out of the tip of her wand, and glided into the oncoming storm clouds. She began to feel her husband's screams retreat from her throbbing head. Looking up at the rolling clouds, she could se the hems of tattered cloaks fading off into the distance. Dementors.

But even as they escaped, the daises did not show their bright faces. There was something else.

"Mrs……..Malfoy."

Everything went black.

There was something holding her down. Something…..cold. It was around her wrists, her ankles, and over her mouth, gagging her. She felt a rush of cold air blow over her, and felt goosebumps rise over her entire body. She was naked.

"Mrs. Malfoy."

It was that voice again. She knew it well, so harsh, filled with guttural tones, and hisses.

Voldemort

She heard footsteps coming closer to her, then stopping by her feet. "You dare to even think my name, Mudblood?" it said, and then let a clammy finger run down her side, raising the tiny hairs on her waist and hips. "Tsk tsk. Draco has been spoiling you, hasn't he?"

She felt bile rising in the back of her throat. Voldemort was seeing something that only the two most important men in her life had even seen, something that was so sacred. And now, she guessed, he was going to defile it.

"It doesn't have to be that way."

The clammy hands stroked her face this time, and stopped at her temples. "If you simply tell me what I need to know, we ca make this quick and painless. If not…" he trailed his fingers down, and stroked one of her nipples, "we can do it the hard way."

Hermione shuddered. What on earth was he talking about?

"Oh they didn't tell you what an amazing part you play in their little plan?"

His mind reading trick was getting on her nerves. Why didn't he just find out what he needed to know, and let her go? And where was her….?

"Interesting questions, Mrs. Malfoy. Your little half-breed daughter is indisposed right now, and will most likely be that way for a while."

If she could have screamed, she would have. Enough anger was building up inside of her to kill him instantly, Avada Kedavra or not.

"Such a fiery spirit. Exactly what keeps me from getting what I need. You see, without even concentrating, your mind is blocking all vital information from any probing intruders, myself included. Even Truth Serum couldn't unlock it. What I am going to do is break your subliminal concentration." She could feel his moist breath on her neck. "Is this all making sense?"

She hated the way he explained it all, just like an evil villain in an old James Bond movie.

Suddenly, she could see……but where was she? Instead of a damp, cold, dark dungeon, she was lying on warm grass, in the lawn of her house. How?

Think, Hermione. Its him. He can control you. None of this is real.

But it seemed so real. The grass smelled so fresh, and the lilacs she had planted were in full bloom, wafting their sweet-soapy smell towards her.

None of this is real. None of this is real.

Her dress she was wearing was one of Draco's favourites. It was a forest green pattern crepe dress, with silver beads accenting the shoulder straps. Her hair was in large, bouncy curls, just how he liked it. It almost made her think that this was all one joke. That was it. A practical joke! Harry, Ron and Draco were playing a joke on her, and they were going to come out any second, and tell her that, no, Draco wasn't dead, and Harry wasn't Lucius after all!

Really bright, Hermione. This isn't real.

A crush of grass brought her to her senses. She propped herself up, and saw him. It wasn't a dream, it was real. It had to be. HE was real.

Draco was running towards her, a smile on his face. His silver-blond hair blew in the slight breeze, obscuring his features, but his grey eyes still shone through. Before she knew it, he hand jumped on her, pinning her down, and began kissing her with such force that it took her breath away. This was how he was, before the Death Eaters re-banded, before Voldemort took over…

STOP IT Hermione! This is Voldemort you're kissing! NOT Draco! This is all an illusion.

Hermione felt his slim fingers begin to ease the straps of her dress down, past her shoulders, exposing her to his hungry eyes. She melted at his tender touch, stroking her skin lightly.

You're letting him win, Hermione.

She didn't care. She moaned as his fingers slipped under her skirt, teasing her. Grabbing his shoulders, she slammed her lips onto his, hoping to make him break his resolve. He was teasing her….tooo…much….

"Draco…." she breathed, forgetting how good it felt to have his name pass her lips in such a moan. His eyes met hers. He was laughing through them, laughing at her vulnerable, needy state. She needed him, and he knew it. The real Draco would have continued, making her break in pleasure, but he didn't. No, not yet.

Tell me.

"Augh," she moaned, thrusting her hips, trying to make him do what she wanted. He didn't, and his gleaming eyes bore into her.

"Draco…please…." She hissed.

Tell me…..now…

She couldn't take it any more. All her barriers fell down, and she screamed the one thing he wanted, just as he sent her over the edge.

"POWER HUNGRY!"

The happy scene, her, Draco, the impossibly green front lawn, everything disappeared. Hermione felt herself fall, then hit a cold, stone surface. She felt something crack, and she winced in pain.

"VOLDEMORT, YOU BASTARD," she screamed. "HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME!"

A small chuckle came from the right hand corner. "Did you really think that I would touch your dirty, disgusting Mudblood self?"

She heard a little pop, and a tiny twinkling light illuminated a figure in front of her. He was gaunt, with matted blonde hair gunked with grease and dirt. He held his skeletal hands in his lap, with their blackened nails, and his once fine silk robes were torn and tattered beyond recognition, hanging like a tent on his emancipated frame.

But there was no mistaking him.

"Draco?" she whispered, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. His eyes rose to meet hers, twinkling slightly at the sound of his name. He took one of his dry, flaking hands, and placed it on her smooth one.

"Her….her….herm…"

A hand flew out of no where, and cuffed Draco on the side of his head, sending him flying across the room. Voldemort look at him sneering.

"It's funny, Mrs. Malfoy, what the Crutacius Curse does to a weak mind."

She stared at him, rage bubbling from her pores. He gave her a sick grin, his red eyes flashing dangerously.

"I will be replaying that scene over and over in my head for the next week," he said, his small red tongue licking his lip suggestively. She shuddered.

He gave her one last look, then pulled out his wand, and pointed it at her.

The next day, she woke up in her bed.

A/N: I was this close to not putting him in, but I decided to. YAY! Draco isn't dead, hes just insane! I don't think this is quite R yet, but I put it in just in case. Better to be safe than sorry!

Jbanana: awwww…..hes back, and yet I still feel sad.

Dracoishot: haha, as much as I dislike Ron as well, hes a good guy in this fic

Anasazi: sigh I usually feel bad for harry. JKR made him so messed up in the 5th book

Jolene Smith: doesn't peanut butter rock! Ough! I could eat it forever!

Igobgirlie15: haha, thanks! Don't worry, its not a usual summary…

Regina-terrae: THERES DRACO!

Cassiel Oliviari: if you do say so yourself….haha, when are you gonna write your OWN fic??