A/N: Well, it's been awhile, but I'm slowly getting back into things.
Disclaimer: I don't think they will ever be mine, soI won't pretend they are.
What A Mess I've Gotten Myself Into: chapter 3
Hermione knew better than to touch anything set in front of her. There was no telling what they could have put in it. Chicken was rare in this part of the world, so she knew these were wealthy men as one laid a platter in front of her, heaped high with white meat. A few more common vegetables also decorated the plate, and the wine in her goblet looked rich and inviting. But her stomach was rebelling against the very idea of food.
So she sat and quietly observed the happenings around her. She heard one man begin to spin a bawdy tale, while several others were telling crude jokes. They must all be men, she realized, neither seeing nor hearing anything remotely feminine. It was a loud, rowdy bunch of men with no manners and no decency. Then again, one cannot expect much of a dirty thieving group of outlaws and bandits.
Hermione shivered with dread as one by one, all of the eyes in the room turned to her. They were finishing filling their stomachs and looking forward to the entertainment, as their leader had so delightfully put it. What would she be forced to do? She didn't want to think about it. She closed her eyes, shutting them out, shutting everything out, and forced herself to take a deep breath. It would do no good to panic.
When she opened her eyes, she found handsome golden brown eyes an inch from her own. Despite her best efforts to squash the instinctual reaction, she jumped and flinched back. He swirled the full cup of wine under her nose, letting her smell its soft fruity scent before drawing back.
"Well, well, my dear. Couldn't be interested in a little wine?" he said, his voice soft, melodic almost. But a wicked gleam entered his eyes as the brown color darkened and morphed back to crimson red. "Too bad. It might have made this easier on you," he taunted, running an icy cold finger down the bridge of her nose. A wave of his other hand called a cloaked man forward. Hermione recognized the sharp nose and black eyes of her abductor. "Severus, you brought the girl, so I think I'll let you have the first go at her."
The man called Severus swept a low bow to his leader before coming any closer. She watched as he advanced with a lewd smirk, the leer in his eyes making her tremble. But he stopped before he came near enough to touch her, turning to the other man once more. "My lord, I was not expecting to have to share."
"But you brought her here. Why? To taunt us with a girl who you want to flaunt but not to share? Your master does not enjoy being teased so," Voldemort replied, his face never changing from its calm and kind exterior, but his voice was scathing and Hermione could feel the vibration of restrained power in the air.
However, the man didn't back down. He bowed low again before answering. "I do not mean offense, my lord. But your other loyal subjects have wives and mistresses. I have nothing. I only meant to take this one and use her as a plaything for my own needs."
"Very well, Severus. After all, it is time you were rewarded for your gracious services and sacrifices in my name," he conceded. Severus worked hard to hide his triumph. But before he could collect his bounty and leave, Voldemort caught his arm and wrenched hard. "You may have the girl, but be warned. I am watching you, boy," he spat. "Your impertinence is unacceptable. Crucio!" he shouted, waving a wand very similar to the one hidden in Hermione's belt, and she watched helpless as Severus buckled, his face tightening slightly in pain. At first he held up well, refusing to show outward signs of his distress, but Voldemort drew out his punishment until his legs could not hold him any longer and he dropped to his knees. When the spell was released, he gasped for breath.
The others gathered around murmured softly amongst themselves, some watching in sadistic pleasure as the master's favorite was finally punished, others grimacing in sympathy. Voldemort silenced them with a venomous look and swept out of the room, his cape flaring dramatically behind him. Hermione had the semblance of mind to duck her head before she rolled her eyes. It wouldn't do to incite more anger with this crew.
When she looked up again, the dark figures were disappearing. Simply popping out of existence. It was a little disconcerting, but it was also intriguing. 'I wonder if I could do that?' she thought.
While she was thinking, she didn't notice Severus approach until he reached out and snagged her upper arm in a harsh grip. His long, delicate fingers—a nobleman's fingers—had surprising strength. "Don't even think about escaping, girl," he snarled. "You're very lucky my lord decided to let you live. You're mine now."
She bristled, shoulders tightening and fire glowing in her eyes. "I am no one's but my own. Unhand me." He obeyed her command, only to reach down and yank her to her feet by the chains on her wrists. She dug her heels deeper into the cave floor, but it did no good. She found herself being dragged out of the cave and into his arms. "What is this? Let me go!"
She watched as his eyes closed and he appeared to be concentrating. All of a sudden, it felt like her body was being constricted, being pulled through a very tight place. She couldn't breathe and her eyes clamped shut as the world around her blurred and spun. Then, as quickly as it started, the feeling was gone and she could again draw precious oxygen into her lungs. 'What in all the kingdoms of hell did he do to me?' she thought.
Opening her eyes, she was stunned to find herself not in the sandy desert anymore, but a richly lavished room, much like those in the palace. Gold and tapestries adorned the walls, intricate carvings cut into the large marble and alabaster inlays near the windows and doors. Brightly colored pillows sat in every corner, and a low table took up most of the center of the room. It looked like the room her father kept to meet with foreign dignitaries and hold council.
It was a beautiful room she had to admit. But how had she gotten there? What was that feeling of being forced through a very small space? Turning, she spotted her captor in the corner, merely watching her through his dark bangs.
"You!" she accused. " What have you done? Where are we?"
The man rose from his reclining position against the wall and stalked closer to her, much closer than she was comfortable with. "I have a name, princess. It'd do you good to call me 'Severus' or 'master' from now on."
Hermione scoffed. If she had been watching this scene rather than experiencing it, she would have laughed at the outrageousness of she, the daughter of the king, calling this dark ruffian 'master.' It was a ridiculous suggestion, one that she would never heed. Her pride would never allow it. "Fine. Severus," she spat the name like a vile curse and watched his eyes flicker, "where have you taken me? I wish to be returned to my home at once!" she didn't know why she thought it was going to work this time, when it hadn't so many times before.
A storm raged in his blue eyes, turning them from pale and icy to dark sapphires of malice. He watched, thoroughly satisfied as she backed away from him, terror reading plain on her pretty little face. She hit the sill of the high window behind her, and desperate for a way out, she turned her back on her abductor and gazed out, trying to judge how far she was from the ground.
Just as she recognized the palace, her home, sitting on the horizon, he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger in an uncompromising grip and forced her to look him in the eye again. "Don't you ever speak down to me like that again, you little chit. You're no better than the scum beneath my boots. You are in my home and under my command, and you won't be going home. Ever, if I have anything to say about it."
It's short, I know. But I decided I liked ending it there for now. Read and review. Reviews make me a very happy author, and happy authors write faster. Thanks to all the wonderful readers who reviewed the last chapter.