Taken
Hermione walked home slowly home with her nose in yet another book.
She did this often ever since the end of the war a little over a year before. She was the only survivor of her friends. Lord Voldemort himself killed Harry and Ron in the final battle. Most of the Order had survived, but over the past year, the remaining Death Eaters had picked them all off one way or another. Only Severus and Ginny came out in the end, but with severe consequences.
Ginny was submitted to a mental ward a few months after the ordeal. Seeing her family slowly picked off by the forces of evil was too much for the young witch.
Severus pleaded innocence to the Dark Lord after he was suspected of helping the Order plot against him. Surprisingly, Voldemort set him free. Severus disappeared and was suspected of fleeing the country for safety. Hermione, however, felt he didn't survive long after it leaked out that he betrayed both Lord Voldemort and Dumbledore, had he been killed by Death Eaters or strong supporters of Dumbledore.
Hermione had rounded the corner of the street she was on and looked up at the world in front of her. She had walked the neighborhood seven times now and was almost done with her book.
"I'll just head down the alley to get home, that should give me enough time to finish," she said to herself and turned her attention back to the book.
As she rounded into the alley, she squinted as the source of light became limited. She knew it wasn't right to read in bad light, but a little bit wouldn't hurt her.
She was halfway down the alleyway when she heard a noise on her right. She froze in mid stride. She stayed in place for a moment before hesitantly staring off again. She put her attention back on the book, but her mind stayed on alert.
Hermione heart rate had just gone back to its normal tempo when she felt a hand around her torso and mouth. Only the hand around her mouth was not bare. It also possessed a cloth, a wet cloth.
"Guess who," an all too familiar voice whispered in her ear. Despite her tiring eyes, she widened her eyes in sudden fear. That was the last thing she remembered. The book fell, landing on page #666.
Hermione had a splitting headache when she woke up some time later. She lifted her hand up from her side and slowly rubbed her forehead. She tried opening her eyes, but the light that came flooding in was like a knife stabbing her in the eye. It didn't help her headache either.
Slowly, she opened her eyes to a slip and let her eyes get use to the light. The slip eyes became a squint and a squint became a half-eyed stare. While she waited for her eyes to adjust to the light, she looked at her surroundings curiously.
She was in a big bed, that obvious. The room was a dark green, hunter green maybe. The furniture was fairly new and exquisite. From what she could make out, the bed was a canopy with a dark flowing transparent cloth draping over the bed, but she couldn't be sure. And in what seemed the distance, she could see what she was sure was a man.
By that time, her eyes were fully adjusted to the light and she opened her eyes completely. The light blinded her for a split second as if to keep the mad behind the mask secret for as long as possible. When the light died away, she was able to see the man. As she suspected, it was none other than Lucius Malfoy.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," he said sitting down in one of the many pieces of furniture.
She gathered the sheets in her clenched fists and it was then that she was the color of the sheets, hunter green and metallic silver. She gasped and let go of the sheets in her hands in disgust.
Lucius saw this and snickered to himself.
"I am glad you like the bed spread," he said withhis infamous smirk.
Hermione ignored the comment and casually put her hand under the sheet, patting for her wand. It was then that she realized that she was not wearing her own clothes. She had a sudden intake of breath as she felt the silk under her hands. She looked down to find it wasn't just silk, but a white revealing night slip.
"It was Narcissa's. She wore it on our wedding night. It was the only time she wore it," he said staring at the nightgown possessively.
Hermione slowly slipped the covers up to her shoulders at his comment. She shivered at the thought of him changing her.
Why did he take her? Why was she so important? The war was over and there was no need for him to capture her. The Dark Lord was defeated. Unless, he captured her to seek revenge on his obvious upset over the war. This couldn't be good.
"Why did I do it you ask?" he asked her, looking at her after a close inspection of his hands.
She didn't do anything but grit her teeth and clench her fists.
"That is for me to know and you to soon find out," he said to her nonchalantly. He knew why he took her. He had been planning on it since the end of the war.
He wanted to make her hurt. He wanted her to be in pain. He wanted to see her in pain. A face of agony, discomfort, and humiliation. Because of her and all her little friends he lost everything he had. Her lover boy, Ron, had personally killed his wife. Hermione had made it a personal goal to take Draco, and she did. Lucius had wanted so badly to kill both Ron and Hermione when he had captured them, but Lord Voldemort had other plans for both of them.
He wanted Ron with Harry when they were brought to him. He took Ron and performed all three unforgivable curses on him. First, the Imperius curse. That got Harry going as he had Ron dance to his liking. Next, was Cruciatus curse. The shrieks even got to Hermione, though she wouldn't show it. And finally, the Avada Kedavra curse. Lord Voldemort smiled as he yelled; "Avada Kedavra!" and the flashing green light struck Ron. His lifeless body fell to the floor and the image laid embedded in both Harry and Hermione's mind.
Lord Voldemort turned his gaze to Harry.
"Well, well, well. It's Harry Potter. How does it feel to meet up once again? Only, you are in loss of your wand. You are completely defenseless, and the victory is mine. Say good-bye to the unforgiving world, Harry," Lord Voldemort said with anger and relief in his voice. He didn't even waste time; he planted his death on him faster than you could say a word.
The memory was still stuck in his mind. The look of strength in her eyes as she watched her friends fall. It was that strength that gave her the power to get away from the two Death Eaters holding her, Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy.
He had been looking forward to seeing her suffer that day after all she had done to him, but she somehow managed to stay strong. Even the year after the event, she had not cried a single tear in all the time he saw her. She had to have, but he never got the chance to see it. Now he would. He would make her feel pain. He would make her be ashamed of herself like she had made him feel. He would get ultimate revenge on her and he didn't care how he did it.
Hermione watched as his face went from a matter of fact face, to an upset face and finally a face that filled with anger and rage. His fists clenched so tightly that he snapped the wand in his hands. Hermione's hopes had broken just as her wand in his hands did.
The sound of the wood breaking brought him out of his trace and he stared down at the two pieces of wood in his hands. He slowly diverted his attention to her. The face she saw was of pure hatred and loathing,
He threw down the pieces of wood and grabbed his own wand that was still in tact. He violently thrust it in her direction and said, "This is for everything you have put me through," and he mumbled a few words.
Hermione could feel her hands come together and stick together. He muttered a few more words and her hands flew to the head of the bed. She was afraid this might happen when she was the anger in his eyes.
He came at her at a threatening speed, his face still overflowing with rage and loathing. He watched as her face packed with horror; just what he wanted.
He got to the bed and quickly got on top of her. She tried to kick him away with he legs, but he had predicted her move and was ready with his hand. He moved her legs away with ease and wedged himself between her legs.
"Please, don't," she pleaded with him, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
"Would you have stopped had my Draco had asked you?" he asked through gritted teeth. She couldn't lie; she wouldn't have, so she said nothing.
"That is what I thought," he said and continued on with what he was doing.
He ripped off his robe and hastily unbuttoned his shirt. She tried to kick him in the back, but he was untouched by her attempt.
After he got his shirt off, he got off the bed and stripped what else he had on.
Once fully undressed, he crept back on the bed. Hermione looked off in the other direction as she kicked wildly at the air. Once again, he was able to stop her legs and get himself in between them.
Hermione tucked her head to her chest as she kicked violently at his back. This time, she affected him, but instead of getting off of her, he grabbed both of her ankles from behind him and held them in a death grip.
"The more you struggle, the more power I have over you," he whispered into her ear.
She shrieked at his grip that caused an enormous amount of pain. He smiled and let her ankles go.
He moved his lips to hers and kissed her roughly. Pressing hard on her lips at first, he opened his mouth and forced his tongue into her mouth. But she kept her teeth tightly shut. Too impatient to wait, he roughly pinched her nipple through the thin fabric. She opened her mouth widely in pain and he took her mouth.
He shoved his tongue down her throat and she almost gagged. Subconsciously, she bit down hard on his tongue.
"Aww!" he screamed and pulled away from her. The taste of blood filled his mouth and he filled with rage.
He repositioned himself comfortably between her legs. She felt him against her leg and she tilted her head back. She squeezed her eyes shut and tears came flooding out her eyes.
She waited for the pain between her legs and waited to get it over with, but that didn't happen. She felt cold hands on her thighs and slowly creep their way up her body and under her night slip. She opened her eyes to see him looking her in the eyes. She shivered at his cold touch and clenched her teeth. Once he finally reached the top of the night slip, he violently ripped the nightgown over her head and threw it to the ground.
She turned her head away from him, ashamed.
He violently placed his hand on her chin and pulled her face in toward his.
"You will look at me, do you understand that?" he asked with anger and dominance in his voice. Hermione gave him a disgusted look and said nothing.
Before she knew what had happened, he slapped her across the face.
"I asked you a question. Now, answer me like you would any of your superiors, yes sir," he said angrily.
Hesitantly, Hermione nodded and said, "Yes, sir," weakly.
"That's better," he said to her.
She felt him grow stronger at her words. He smirked and rubbed himself on her inner thigh. He could feel her grew goose bumps and her muscles tense.
Her eyes squeezed tighter with every rhythmic motion he made on her. He took this opportunity to take what was now his.
As she whimpered in agony, he leaned down in her ear and said, "Scream all you want, no one can save you now."
He gave her ear a long, slow lick and an ice-cold blow. She shivered even more and he took her.
He thrust himself into her and watched as her face clutch in hurt. She screamed out in severe pain and her face became even more wet with tears. He felt as the blood trickled from her and on to the sheets.
She shrieked in ache every time he brought himself in. The pain was so extreme and it only got worse with every time he deepened himself into her. When he finally consumed himself completely, he quickened his pace. Her muscles pinched tighter with every increase in pace.
"Oh, you're so tight. It feels good," he moaned to her.
His words burned in her mind. She tried so hard to stay calm, but it hurt so bad and she had become so weak over the past year, it was too much to handle and it seemed easier to just give in to the throbbing. She screamed out louder in pain as he ripped her on the inside.
"Yes, scream. Scream for help. Scream in agony. Feel my pain," he said, her screaming keeping him going, keeping her screaming.
He watched her face the whole time. Her face became more appealing the more he went on.
He gave one last earth shattering thrust before he indulged himself in her tight body.
He leaned in close to her ear and whispered; "Now you can be humiliated. You can tell any other man you will ever be with that you lost your virginity to the Lucius Malfoy. You can let the wizarding world know so they can pity you," he said and withdrew himself from her.
He gathered his clothes off of the ground. He mumbled another spell and her hands were free. She grabbed the ground and quickly slipped over her head and back on again. She covered herself and crawled off the bed. She ran into a corner and started to cry.
"Go ahead, cry. Now you know how I feel. Now you know how I felt when my family was killed off and the Dark Lord fell. Not so perfect now are we?" He said putting on his robe after he fully clothed.
She just sat there with her hands covering her eyes. She was humiliated and upset that she let him win. The one time he beat her.
"Come on, mudblood, let's get you home," he said in disgust. After she didn't come, he turned to her to see why.
"You always have to make things hard," he said to her and paced over to her. She coward into the corner and he grabbed her by the wrist. She yelped in pain and put all her weight in resisting him. He never wavered and pulled her along with ease.
He threw her into the bathroom and thrust her clothes into her hands.
"Change, but don't you take long, I will be watching," he said with a smirk.
She didn't know what he meant by that, but frankly, she didn't care.
Hermione closed the door and ripped the nightgown off of her. She felt dirty with it on. She looked around as she put her clothes on the counter.
The bathroom was clad with marble. She saw the shower and it drew her in. Hermione slowly walked to the shower and slid open the door. Just as she was about to step in, she heard the door open. She jumped in and closed the door behind her.
Lucius stepped into the bathroom just as the shower door closed. He rolled his eyes and walked over to the shower.
He opened the door and looked inside.
"You can't hide from me, you know that," he said and smirked. "Oh, taking a shower. If you must, but make it quick," he said staring at her. He noticed the dry blood on her legs and walked away.
Hermione was in a ball in the corner of the shower when he came in. She didn't even look at him, she couldn't. It was still too hard.
When he left, she turned on the water and took what she tried, a relaxing shower. She was un successful. She ended up scrubbing her arms red from all the filth on her. His touch, his eyes on her, his angry face, his body…it was almost too much to handle.
Once she finished, she got out and put her clothes on, her clothes. It felt…better having what she knew as hers.
Hermione walked out of the bathroom to find Lucius smoking a cigar. She hung her head low in shame and embarrassment.
"Finally, take you long enough," he said puffing his cigar and blowing it out his nose.
He got up and took her wrist in a firm grip. He couldn't see her cry a tear of defeat as they left the room.
She took a quick glance around when they stepped out of the room to see a grand stairway. Her best guess was that they were in the Malfoy Manor. She put her head back down and followed him with no resistance.
They got to the base of the steps a couple of minutes later and he pulled her into a sharp right.
He led her into the living room. There, about thirty feet away was a fireplace.
"Ready to go home?" he asked pulling her into the fireplace. She didn't answer, still too ashamed.
"I understand," he said with no emotion. "Bye-bye Hermione," he said and leaned in close, "I'll be back," and she was gone. Gone back to that miserable life she knew before. The life that caused her so much misery. And now, now she would go back to that miserable life with yet another piece of misery to add to her collection. That collection which consisted of death, loneliness, and depression. She would call this piece, taken.
A/N: Please tell me what you think about it in a...review. I hope I did well! Thanks for reading!