Hi! Thank you so much for all the reviews and positive response to this, it means so much!
Warning, his chapter does contain sexual assault (non consensual kissing), it is nothing graphic, but please if it's upsetting I'd skip this one.
I believe the Death Eaters were always more extreme then written in the books, but it was toned down to keep it appropriate for younger readers.
Elements of this chapter specifically are inspired by hey-torch's: Almost Everything I Wish I'd Said. An amazing read.
Enjoy & Review!
Hermione isn't sure how long it's been. Surely it feels like a lifetime but she knows that can't be.
She tried to mark the passing of time with whenever Draco or his mother would come with her meals. Eventually, that felt pointless. No matter how many times the cold porridge mixed with pain potion came, it didn't help much.
Not when the Crucitas Curse was being cast on her daily.
Sometimes Narcissa or Draco would speak in hushed whispers to her about how she was only to be dealt with by Bellatrix or the Dark Lord himself.
So basically, they were subtly telling her to count her lucky stars that someone like Dolohov, Greyback, or that vile man Scabior weren't getting their hands on her.
It was a small mercy, but something she was having trouble appreciating as of late. Not when she's vowed herself to silence, only speaking to herself when she felt her own sanity slipping away.
Yesterday she barely remembered her fathers name. Today it rang in her head too well. The day before last she convinced herself she had lived in Ottery Saint Catchpole, it was four hours later she recalled she grew up in Hampstead. And just a few days ago, she swore Draco was a boy named Thomas she hasn't seen since Muggle primary school.
The only thing she seemed to hold onto was Hogwarts, A History, the very copy Ron gifted her. Despite all the horrors and torture, she just can't seem to shake him. Not that she wants to.
Narcissa seems to notice her slipping away slowly. She tries to get her to talk about anything when she's around. But she stays silent.
Speaking of the woman, the only thing she's been grateful for since she arrived is Narcissa Malfoy.
From her understanding, magic in the dungeon has to be granted to you by some sort of keeper, who she assumes is Bellatrix or Voldemort. Only those granted access can use magic down there, or so Narcissa says. She thinks she's read about magic like this, but she can't be sure.
Narcissa enchanted a candle to light so she could read. The woman seemed to notice, but not outright comment on the book she clutched to. The candle was amazingly set to fizzle out whenever someone other then Missus Malfoy entered. It even burned out when Draco came.
So far she's been able to catalogue the few able to perform magic down here.
Bellatrix, who apparated in here her first day and who has since used spells on her down here.
Hermione just assumes Lucius Malfoy also was granted access because he doesn't exactly strike her as the type of man to let a woman have more power then he does.
Shockingly, Wormtail is also able to conjure up magic in the dungeons. This notion baffled Hermione. What feels like a lifetime ago, but in hindsight was two days, the man tried to perform some sort of stinging jinx on her. Of course, it failed, nearly causing a few hives on her ankle. Later, Narcissa came to treat her and explained Pettigrew was granted access down here because he often was tasked with tending to prisoners.
Other then that, the likes of Greyback, Dolohov, Scabior, Rookwood, and the rest of the filth that rots upstairs haven't been down here. She would bet a sickle they weren't allowed to use spells, being Greyback side-alonged in here not that long ago.
Voldemort obviously can do whatever he wants down here, but thinks the dungeons below him, literally and metaphorically. Instead he has someone else collect her, inflicting punishment upstairs.
Draco also can't perform magic. Hermione doesn't know Malfoy well at all, besides the fact he's a right git, so it could be because he's underage but she can't be sure. It's not like she's ever sung his praises and she won't start now.
So he comes down and gives her cold porridge, stale bread, and water, it doesn't mean anything to her. It helps her survive, but she suspects he's in charger of making sure she does so for some sick twisted reason.
And as much as she has begged and pleaded his mother to let her go, she knows she can't because things are too complicated. Apparently Draco's been caught in the middle of all this somehow and the best thing she can do is help Hermione heal. Ease some of her pain.
Narcissa pours her potions and casts charms that barely go unnoticed by Bellatrix. All while her son pouts and broods next to her, after all he's only ever cared for himself. Merlin, he doesn't even try and speak to her, just the occasional 'Granger you have to eat, please.' Other then that, Narcissa is her only decent company.
But she still longs for more. So, so much more.
However, there's no time to dwell on it right now. Not as the candle blows out and heels click onto the steps.
There will surely be time to yearn for something better. When Malfoy's mother comes down and asks her questions about everything she can think of. Hermione's still not sure if it's to keep her sane or to keep her busy. She doesn't care. And even if she can't always respond, she needs it.
But right now, Bellatrix apparently needs her.
"Up! Up! Up!" She chants wildly with a grin.
Knowing there's no use fighting it, she peels herself off the ground and stumbles to her feet.
"I sure did wear you out yesterday didn't I?"
And she had. Casting all sorts of spells on Hermione. Ones she didn't even dare read about.
"No matter we're going to have some fun today. You want to have fun don't you Mudblood?"
This is usually how it goes. Bellatrix madly sounds off to herself as Hermione remains stoic and silent. No matter, it seems the crazy witch likes talking like this.
As she grabs her arm roughly and drags her up the stairs she goes on, "it's come to my attention we've missed New Year's Muddy."
New Year's has passed already? That means it's been at least a week. The brunette implies it's been more being she said they 'missed' it.
As she's being thrown into the room that has become a product of her worst nightmares she sees three harrowing faces.
"I wanted to give you something special." Bellatrix says feigning sympathy, "I figured since you didn't have your New Year's kiss you so longed fo share with that disgusting Blood Traitor, I'd help you out. Girl to girl." The smile she's wearing makes Hermione ponder trying out wandless magic.
"So here with me today are three more then eligible bachelors! Perfectly capable wizards," she pauses, eyes roving over Greyback's hairy chest, "and then some..." Bellatrix faces Hermione again, "since I'm feeling in spirit of the New Year, I'll allow you to pick your suitor. Who will it be Mudblood?"
And it's like the most fucked up game show ever. She doesn't want anyone in this room looking at her, never mind touching her.
"Indecisive I see. Let me help you make things easier," she begins circling the men, "this one seems to rather like you despite the dirt running through your veins. But I must say his breath is horrendous." The woman mock whispers to Hermione as Scabior dares to grin likes it's a compliment.
"Antonin here, well you two have history, do you not? I reckon he's dying to get his hands on you again, aren't you?"
At this Dolohov eagerly shakes his head as she notices his fingers tick around his wand.
"And Greyback, well we all know how much he longs to taste you. You know how such creatures can be, you hang about the likes of Remus Lupin, my poor excuse of a cousins poor excuse of a best friend." She comments.
And that does it for Hermione.
"D-d-d," she tries, but her voice is shaky and wavering under their gazes. It's like their some sort of mental block in her brain preventing her from speaking.
"D-d," Bellatrix mocks with a laugh, "if you've got something to say, say it!"
"S-Sirius." Hermione barely manages.
This makes her cackle even louder, "oh! Something to say about the traitor do you? No matter, I handled him! Not much left to say, no."
Hermione somehow manages to ball her small hands into angry tight fists at the comment. This woman's so non chalant about taking a life, the life of an extraordinary man, her cousins life no less.
"Who will it be? I haven't to tell you how impatient I am."
Her eyes roam over the three men in the room. Not that she's actually deciding, no, she's looking for a wand. Weighing who she could best.
Scabior is twirling his mindlessly between his fingers. He looks more enamored with Hermione then anything else. Dolohov is clutching his with fervor, she's sure the only thing on his mind is cursing her. As for Greyback, the wand is slightly visible in his pocket, he's too focused on licking his lips.
There's really no right choice here. All are as bad at the other.
"Alright new game!" Bellatrix claps.
Then like the crazy woman she is, she starts spinning. Round and round, a hand clutched over her eyes as she hums to herself.
A few moments later she stops, stumbling slightly and giggling like mad. Then, she points her wand, the end of it only centimeters from Dolohov's nose.
As she pulls her hand away, she begins jumping with joy, "lucky day for you Antonin! Fate has spoken. The girl is yours." Then Bellatrix steps forward and whispers to him, "remember the Dark Lord's request. No fatal harm to the Mudblood."
Instinctively, Hermione backs up as far as she can until she hits a wall. Dolohov is rounding in on her, his wall still hanging in his hand. Looser then before.
And before she can help it his dry cracked lips are pressed firmly over hers. Her first instinct is to kick him, much like she had to with McLaggen, or curse him. Then as he tries to slip his disgusting slimey tongue past her lips, she's reminded what she needs to do.
Wand. Wand. Wand.
She says it to herself over and over as her hand slowly roves around for his own. That's all she can cling onto, not wanting to accept the overwhelming feelings of being so violated.
Then she feels the wooden thing and is sickeningly grateful he seems so intent on claiming her, he's forgotten his vendetta to finish what he started at the Ministry.
In one swift motion she yanks it from his hand.
"St-stupefy!" She channels all of her strength to say it.
It's not a powerful blow, but he's being thrown back. Whether the lack of her voice or the wand that so does not fit her, but it works.
"Pr-rotego!" She's seemed to find her voice as the charm works wonders around her. Seeming to have blocked whatever Bellatrix just threw.
"Clever! But not clever enough! What will you do next Mudblood? Apparate? Go back to that boy you so dearly long for? Pay dear Mum and Dad a visit?" She questions angrily.
Hermione shivers at the mention of her parents. She also doesn't think she has it in her to apparate. Sure she's read about it in a book, but it's risky, dangerous, and she's so exhausted. To make matters worse, this wand feels as effective as an actual wooden stick in her hand.
"Ex-Expelliarmus!" She cries out next and surprisingly, Bellatrix's wand flies into her hand.
"Oh!" She laughs.
Hermione's confused by the smile painting her lips, but soon will realize what it means.
"Greyback, I'm afraid I've made a mistake. Have at her."
And he doesn't have to be told twice.
Before Hermione notices he pounces on her, knocking her to the floor as both Dolohov and Bellatrix's wands roll limply along the floor.
She feels his nails plunge into her stomach as they scratch down the expanse of her skin. It's like he's taking his time with her.
Lestrange, like she said before, is an impatient woman, as she nudges Greyback from his spot on top of her. And even though he appears to be fighting every instinct, he does as he's told.
Bellatrix assumes his position as she straddles her, settling most her weight onto Hermione's bleeding midriff.
She then leans in close, her hot breath fanning her face, blowing her tears to the sides of her cheeks, "if you think you can pull one over on me, you are surely mistaken, you ought to know that by now. I have no choice but to remind you of it!"
Then she she pulls a dagger from her waist band and slowly rolls up Hermione's sleeve.
The young witch has no choice but to writhe and kick wildly as the blade slowly scrapes her forearm.
"Hmm," she thinks, then her face brightens.
A pain, a searing extruciating pain like no other numbs her body. She has no choice but to scream.
Bellatrix pulls away and admire whatever it is she does before diving back in and cutting something else into her victim.
"J-just kill me. P-please." She begs before she can help it. Hermione can barely manage the words through the pain.
The witch mock pouts at her, "and grant you such mercy." Her tone then shifted to the one Hermione was used to cold and sharp, "dying is easy Mudblood. Pain lasts! Crucio!"
And she screams again. She's not sure if it's from the Crucitaus Curse or the fact that the damned knife is being plunged into her skin, but eventually her screams die out.
Instead the world goes black.
In her unconscious state Bellatrix stands and smiles down at her handy work.
The word 'Mudblood' branded onto Hermione.
I know Hermione's scar isn't in the books, but it's one of the things from the movies that I think adds depth to the Malfoy Manor scene. Though, don't get me started about how they cut out Ron's screams…
Anyway, I currently have up to chapter twenty-seven written so, I hope you guys stick around. I'm getting my arm brace in a few days so I'm hoping it one interfere too much with writing.
Here's a preview for next chapter to tie you over:
Not wanting to think about all that's wrong, he let his body go on auto pilot to the prefects car. Just as he reached it, a body knocked into him.
"Sorry." They said.
Turning to investigate he was left mouth agape because Draco Malfoy had apologized for bumping into him.
"Sorry?" He repeated.
We see Draco & Neville next time. See you then!
Please review!
