Terrifié

Chapter Seventeen Repercussions

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"No." She said, raising her head to look Don in the eye with a clarity and strength he had never seen in her before.

TBC

"What do you mean she's not coming?" Draco repeated angrily, looking at the cool and composed face of Henry with intense rage.

"Miss Hermione is spending the holiday with her Uncle and you will do the project with her when you go back to 'that school'." Henry repeated calmly.

"No! You stupid..." Draco shook Henry by the collar of his uniform but failed to evince a reaction and so took to pacing back and forth. "Well did she look upset? Or scared?"

"No sir, she seemed fine to me."

"Well damn her anyway!" Draco burst out. "You're dismissed Henry." Henry bowed and left the study, closing the door softly behind him. Draco waited till he was gone to kick the desk and resume his pacing. "Stupid girl. It's her fault in any case. See if I try and help her anyway, the dumb Mudblood." He dropped into a red velvet armchair and glared into the fire, wondering why his words were ringing false.

Hermione maintained eye contact as Don grew more and more red in the face.

"What?" He asked tersely. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean no, I need to do this project and I…" Hermione never got a chance to finish her sentence since the blow to her cheek knocked her to the ground with a slight noise of surprise. She lay there for a minute, shocked, before she stood up again and faced Don. "I'm leaving." She said determinedly, and turned towards the door.

"The hell you are!" Don grabbed her by the hair and yanked so hard she sprawled backwards into him. "How dare you defy me you little bitch? All I've ever done is love you since you were a little child!"

"Loving people isn't hurting them, Don!" Hermione yelled, feeling angry. She had no idea where this resistance was coming from.

"Well that's your own goddamn fault isn't it Hermione! You're the one who tempts me. You're so goddamn insolent and sinful. You need to be punished, you know that! Do you even listen in church?" Don asked scornfully, letting go her hair and turning her to face him. At once Hermione remembered that she was, indeed a creature of sin, and that it was her who has hurting Don in reality, dragging him down into the fires of hell. Tears poured down her face.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered. Don's faced softened.

"I know, 'Mione. But you can't behave like that and expect to be treated well, now can you." Hermione shook her head shamefully. "Now are you going to try to leave again?"

"No." She whispered.

"That's my girl." He said softly, hugging her. As he did he let his hands fall down to grasp her bottom. "Now why don't we go upstairs?" He asked. Hermione said nothing. She knew she deserved this.

Hermione lay facing the wall. Don was downstairs making supper. She was so tired. Slowly she sat up and looked around the gray room, absentmindedly touching a finger to her bruised and painful cheek. Her clothing lay on the floor, so she gathered it and threw the ripped pieces out. Slowly she made her way to her own room and began to dress herself in something new, before she headed downstairs to sit in the living room with a book until supper.

Don glanced up as she passed, smiling at her. She smiled back. She read for a while before he announced supper, then she went to the dining room. They were having microwave pasta.

"It's nothing much, but it tastes pretty good with salt and pepper." Don said casually.

"It's good." She ate silently.

"Well liven up a little, Hermione. It's Christmas for chrissakes!" Don playfully tugged her sleeve. "Well I've got a present for you." He got up, carelessly throwing their dishes into the sink and leading her into the living room and sitting her down. He ran upstairs and came down again quickly, holding a shopping bag. "Open it!" He said excitedly.

Hermione did, and inside were a few different scanty nightgowns from a lingerie shop. She smiled wanly.

"Thank-you."

"You don't like them?" He said.

"They're really nice, Uncle Don, thank-you." She tried again, and he smiled. He sat beside her and put his arm around her.

"You're a good girl." He said, resting his head on top of hers, turning on the television to watch some sports game. Hermione excused herself to the washroom. She went upstairs and took a shower, which slightly refreshed her. Afterwards she wandered into her room, and with little real hope, scrawled a note that said simply "Help me." She signed her name and gave it to an owl to bring to Draco. She couldn't rely on him, but still. She wasn't even sure if she should leave. This was her life after all. She shouldn't run away from it.

"Up to your old tricks, are you?" Don was really livid now. She was so tired she hadn't even noticed him standing behind her. She turned.

"Wh-what?" She stammered. Don's black eyes were so dead with rage that she actually shuddered in fear. His unusual calm unnerved her. He took her hand and led her to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaning on it. She sat on the bed and watched as he closed his eyes and looked down. She began to remove her clothing, and stood to take of her pants. She looked up to find him watching her, his eyes still so lifeless. When she had finished he walked towards her, and she closed her eyes, expecting his usual rough embrace. But instead she felt him lift her up. He flung her across the room into the wall. She screamed in pain… she knew she had broken a rib almost immediately.

"You stupid bitch! You just don't learn, do you???" He yelled, practically roaring. He stalked towards where she cowered on the floor. "Take off that necklace you always wear." He pointed to Draco's medallion.

"I can't.." she coughed, and was terrified when blood came up. He leaned down towards her. "Please Don… I'm really hurt, there's something wrong." He picked her up by her chain and dragged her to the hall, breathing hard.

"I can't believe the things you put me through!" He screamed, and she knew she was in trouble when she saw the expression on his face.

"Please…" She begged weakly. He threw her down the stairs.

Then everything went black.

Draco let the owl tapping on his window in, vaguely annoyed that it had woken him from his sleep. It was bloody 4 AM in the morning! He flicked his bedside lamp on and read the note.

"Oh, now she needs my help! Well I'll be damned… I'm not helping her." He muttered to himself, shutting the window with a bang. He threw the note down disdainfully, getting back into his bed and turning out the light. He stared at his canopy restlessly for the next few hours before finally getting up and pulling a robe on over his boxers. He stormed into the dining room and rang the bell. The house elves scurried in sleepily, not being accustomed to Master being up so early, and prepared his breakfast of choice… two cups of black coffee and peanut buttered toast. Draco downed the coffee but could not find the appetite for the toast. He sat down with the paper and read it front to back.

When he was finished he stood and began pacing in front of the fire again. "Something wrong, Master Draco?" Henry asked, popping his head in at the request of the house elves, who were too frightened to check on their Master. He was in a very bad mood of late.

"No there's nothing bloody wrong you idiot! Can't a man pace in his own house without his damned chauffeur getting… concerned…" Draco glared at Henry, who merely raised his eyebrows and turned to go. "Wait!" Draco commanded.

"Yes sir?" Henry asked, turning back.

"Tell the elves to get my broom ready, I'm going to practice some flying techniques. They had better stop being so afraid of me soon, it's annoying as Merlin!" Henry nodded and left, and Draco went upstairs to get dressed suitably.

When Hermione finally opened her eyes, she closed them immediately afterward. The dull light shining through a small window was almost blindingly brilliant. She felt like there were stars dancing around her head. Her entire body ached, except for her head and rib cage. They didn't ache, they throbbed painfully. She was lying on a small cot that she vaguely remembered her family used when camping. That meant… she must be in the basement. She sighed and opened her eyes again. Yes, she was in the basement. And her hands were tied behind her back. She was somehow wearing one of the flimsy nightgowns Don had bought for her. She felt repulsed at the very thought of him as her memories came flooding back. There was a creak on the stairs and the subject of her thoughts came into view. He was grinning happily at her, which she thought odd until she caught the overwhelming smell that accompanied him… Don was smashed.

"'Ow you feeling, love?!" He asked cheerily, crashing down on top of her painfully with a gleeful leer.

The heady scent of roses filled the air as she walked through the beautiful garden. Hermione had not felt so at peace for a very long time. The medallion was gone from her neck, and Don seemed an indistinct nightmare of childhood. She was wearing a white empire waist knee-length sundress, the sleeves and waist trimmed with pale blue rosettes. She saw Draco in the distance and instead of recoiling or hiding, she ran happily into his open arms.

"Oh Draco. My saviour!" She sighed into his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

Hermione faded in and out of consciousness, and lost track of time. Don was not feeding her anything but water as part of her punishment. She was so woozy that she could hardly tell the difference between her dreams and reality. She dreamt of Draco as her saviour, her lover, and she dreamt of Draco morphing into Don and raping her. Her body was so weak from malnutrition and beating that the ropes were useless, and her wrists had shrunk so much that she slipped her hands out anyway. She begged Don for release, for food, for reprieve, for a blanket. It seemed like he was always saying that her punishment was "almost over". She had to try to get… away… but she was so tired…

"I'm just going to see her. To talk about the project." Draco nodded curtly to Henry to signify the end of the conversation and slid the separator between the driver's seat and the back of the car closed. It had been almost a week since he had received her note. He stared at the ceiling of the darkened car, thinking of Quidditch, of his parents, of school; of anything but Hermione. When the car pulled to the stop an hour later he was ill-prepared for the task at hand. "We're here already?" He asked his chauffeur. Henry nodded. Draco stepped out of the car and looked up at the normal-looking house in front of him. The windows were dark and there was no car in front. She may not even be home. But he still needed to talk to her about the project. He rang the doorbell a few times but when no one answered it, he simply opened the unlocked front door and strode in. "Hermione?"
Hermione heard the doorbell and her voice being called as through a haze. She miraculously managed to drag herself up over the basement stairs on her hands and knees and feebly begin trying to open the door. Help me…


Draco tramped through the house, but found no Hermione. The entire place was a filthy mess, and it smelled disgusting. He could hardly believe Hermione had grown up in such a pigsty… or that anyone could be raised up out of such dirt. He poked his head into the kitchen and was about to leave when he heard a scratching noise. What now? He followed the noise to a door in the kitchen, to the right of the fridge. Pantry? He listened for a few seconds more. Yes, there was a definite scratching noise… but what could it be?

TBC