Coming at you with an update! Thank you to all my new readers/reviewers. This fic has just reached 10,000 views! I'm so happy people are liking it :)
Warning this chapter is dark, probably as dark as it will get. There are heavily implied conversations/thoughts about rape, but not elaborated in any sort of detail. Nevertheless, if that sort of thing triggers you, please wait until the next one.
She doesn't know how much time has passed. She can't be sure. Everyday is the same.
Pain.
Hermione wasn't crazy. She couldn't be.
And she doesn't think she was.
Sometimes things were harder to remember than others, but she always worked it out. It was sort of a miracle.
She's read time and time again about the effects the Cruciatus Curse has on someone when administered once. Hermione's lost count of how many times Bellatrix used it on her.
She was certainly feeling the effects on her body, but not so much in her brain. She almost wishes she could forget it, maybe it would all be easier.
Forget all the pain this place caused her. How many times she's had her free will taken from her. All the times she's had her-
No. Don't think about that.
Hermione never let that cross her mind. She'd rather face Voldemort then relive those moments.
The only thing keeping her grounded was that book and the mantra she'd often repeat to herself over and over.
'My name is Hermione Granger...'
More often than not, the unforgivable curse messes with your cognitive functions. Feelings, thoughts, your five senses.
Besides the pain that felt like her nerves splitting throughout her entire body, she just couldn't seem to speak. Deep down Hermione recognizes it's probably some self inflicted mental block because her silence is all she has at this point.
It's just easier to tell herself it's because there's been so many silencing spells cast on her.
Either way, whenever she tries to think up probable reasons, it takes triple the time it used to. She's easily distracted by a different thought, or none at all, or she simply can't remember what she thought to begin with.
However, at the moment, her silence was the furthest thing from her mind. Instead, she was using her hand that wasn't killing her to clutch at her leg.
Today she'd been thrown at the wall like a rag doll and harshly banged it on a table in the process. Hermione was positive it was broken.
The familiar scraping of metal suddenly sounded, making her slink back a little.
That's the noise Bellatrix made, wasn't it?
No, no, it's not her. It's that boy from her school's mother-Drake-no-Draco. Yes. Draco's Mum.
"Hello dear. You must eat. I've mixed in a bit of skele-gro." She spoke softly.
Hermione liked her voice. It wasn't at all that shrill nails on a chalkboard like sound from Bellatrix.
With a shaking hand a wince she grabbed the tray.
"Oh darling, your hand, it looks awful." She observed through the bars under the candle.
Her brown eyes looked at it. All crushed and bloodied. It was the werewolf he, no, the witch, yes, Bellatrix. She stomped on it in those awful boots.
"I'd wrap it but Bella would surely realize..." Narcissa whispers to herself more than the girl in front of her.
Hermione slowly spooned the awful tasting broth into her mouth. Doing her best not to wretch at it's taste.
"What are you going to tell me tonight dear?" Narcissa asked softly.
This happened each day. The woman would come down and coax a story, a memory, from Hermione in order to help her keep her sanity.
Talking was becoming more and more of a difficult feat for the young girl, so it was mostly a game of charades.
Some nights she pointed to her eye remembering, no, teeth, remembering her parents were dentists. A few times she traced a lightning bolt on her forehead for Harry.
She'd outline the scar on her chest after days of being violated by Dolohov. Or prod at the scratches down her abdomen for after Bellatrix got bored and gave her to Greyback. She even had a few bruises on her neck from Scabior.
Nights Hermione did that, Narcissa had no choice but to cry. She was just a child. Draco's schoolmate.
She did everything in her power to keep those disgusting men from touching her, but unfortunately, when her sister wanted something she got it.
Narcissa is pretty sure the young girl blocks the whole happening from her brain. She can read it on her face the days they have their way with her. Hermione's eyes are dull. It's almost like looking at a ghost.
And the woman is sure to never bring it up. Sometimes she'll begin to broach the topic, but it always causes the girl to cry and cower into a corner. Instead she watches as she traces over scratches and bruises as Narcissa just watches. Listens for the small whimpers and offers a hand.
Today though, the men were nowhere to be found. That fact alone makes Hermione more willing to do their nightly routine.
It's all so twisted. Her choices are having the purest thing taken over and over from her or endure the literal torture curse.
"So what is it going to be?" She reiterates.
Hermione crawls forward and reaches a hand through the bar. Gently, she tugs at the woman's hair.
"Hair?" Narcissa questions.
Hermione nods, then wildly points at the enchanted candle.
"Candle?"
She shakes her head.
"Flame?" She tries next.
Hermione nods again, almost excited.
"Hair flame?" That didn't sound right, "flaming hair?" She tries.
Hermione nods, something that looks like a twisted sort of smile comes across her face. But it's almost like she doesn't know how.
Cissy thinks on the subject thoughtfully. It soon comes to her in flashes. Draco mentioning Weasley, Bellatrix and even the Dark Lord taunting the girl using the name Ron.
"Ron?" She asks shakily. All these nights, she's narrowly avoided the topic, but she's seen parts of that book.
And just like that, hearing his name sends her over the edge.
Fat tears streak her dirtied cheeks as small heaves escape her mouth.
"It's okay dear." Narcissa whispers, though she feels pathetic.
Hermione keeps shaking her head as silent sobs wracked her now smaller, frailer, body.
"W-w-want." She barely says.
"I know you want him dear, I'm so sorry." Tears sting her own eyes.
Her head shakes again, like that wasn't what she meant. "W-w-won't wa-" she can't get it out.
Narcissa gets it now.
At the heartbreaking thought she pushes open the door to the cell. The sound seems to send Hermione back.
"It's okay." Narcissa whispers, crouching on the ground and holding out her hand.
"It's okay." She says again.
Slowly, Hermione reaches her good hand out and places it gently on the woman's almost scared she'll shift into her sister.
Gently, she traced the woman's hand.
"I won't hurt you." The woman knows that's not true. She's let this poor girl be hurt for this long.
"Wo-won't wa-want m-me." She chokes, it's her first full sentence in days.
Unable to control herself, Narcissa pulls her into a motherly embrace. At first, she stiffens, but soon relaxes and sobs into her shoulder.
"You're so brave." She to the point of tears herself, "you're so beautiful. Don't let them break your spirit. Please. Your future is too bright." Her cheeks are wet.
Hermione continues to shake.
If Ron didn't want her then, no way would he want her now. Not when she's so, impure, so tainted.
"You don't deserve this dear." She grasped her tighter.
Feeling so torn. Feeling so much pain for the girl in her arms, she grips her cheeks to meet her eyes.
"I promise, I'm going to get you out of here." And just like that it's decided. She can't let this go on anymore.
The words seem to calm the brunette and she attempts to speak, "wh-where?" Where am I? Where are you getting me out of?
Narcissa seems to understand.
"Wiltshire." She begins before gulping, "Malfoy Manor."
...
Hermione fell asleep like that. In Narcissa's arms. It was the most peaceful, most protected she's felt in weeks.
She vaguely recalls the woman's promise to get her out. She hopes more than anything it's true.
She doesn't know how much longer she can go on.
As she opens her eyes, she finds the woman to be gone. She knows that can only mean one thing.
It's a new day. Another one of enduring whatever Bellatrix has in store for her.
And like she could hear Hermione's thoughts, the mad witch comes sauntering in humming to herself.
"Good morning!" She says in mock excitement, "you're in for a real treat today."
Hermione shivers. She's heard that many times before being handed over to Dolohov, Greyback, or Scabior like some doll.
She begins clapping, "up! Get up!"
Not wanting to face her wrath if she didn't, Hermione uses the wall to drag her weak body up.
From through the bars she can make out the witch pouting, "aw, leg hurt from yesterday. Shame." She tuts in false concern.
Soon she flicks her wand as the door creaks open. Roughly, Bellatrix grasps her arm and drags her along, not having the patience of her mangled leg.
"You see," she whispers into the brunette's ear as they start up the steps, a dreadful task, "the Dark Lord is here. He's requested your presence. Behave." She warns as they reach the top.
She shivers. Voldemort is far from a welcome sight.
"Ah, lovely to see you. Sorry I've been absent. I've been busy." The snake-like man said as she entered the lavish room.
Bellatrix let go to stand to his right.
"I've heard you've had a very exciting few weeks." He smiled. It made her stomach clench.
He stepped forward and placed a cold hand on her cheek.
"I just want you to know, you're very, very, important to me." Voldemort whispered to her, his pungent breath invading her sense of smell.
She remained firm, looking into his cold eyes. Only one thing was crossing her mind.
Harry.
Wherever he is right, she's praying he's thinking of her.
Please Harry, please. I know where I am. Let me tell you. Please Harry, please.
Nothing happens. She thinks maybe if she brings him up, he's more susceptible to strengthen the connection.
"H-h,"
Bellatrix cackles at her struggle to speak.
"Harry." She gets out, knowing this is her chance.
Voldemort eyes her funnily for a moment, not realizing what she's doing.
"Ha-Harry P-Potter."
"No." He says, slight ache building at the base of his head.
Bellatrix's lips fall into an 'o'.
"Harry Po-Potter." She manages louder, more firm than she's heard herself speak in weeks.
His eyes squint shut. She's almost there.
"T-the b-boy," it gets caught in her throat, she takes a deep breath, "the boy who lived." She somehow gets out.
This seems to send him over the edge, he collapses onto the ground as his eyes open with a harsh scream.
She knows this is her chance and summons all the strength possible to get what she needs to say.
"M-Malfoy!" She yells out, "M-Malfoy!" Hermione yells. "Malfoy M-"
Suddenly a rough growl interrupts her as she's thrown to the ground.
"Crucio!" The red jet of light hits her chest, making her writhe.
"Get Greyback!" He roars to Bellatrix who nods and scampers away.
Soon, a harsh kick is felt in her already bruised ribs. He soon crouches down and roughly grabs her hair to meet his eyes.
"I told you next time you did that, someone will die!" He screams, her spit coating her face.
"Who should it be huh?" Voldemort whispers, "the young Weasley girl I befriended all those years ago? How about one of her brothers? What's the name of the one you so long for, Ronald?"
She whimpers, shaking her head vigorously, doing her best to apologize.
"Or how about your lovely parents, I hear Hampstead is beautiful this time of year." He taunts menacingly.
Tears trek her cheeks at his words.
Then, he turns his wand and pushes it right to her heart, "or how about you?"
He cries become louder, "I'm s-sorry p-p-"
He soon moves it away, "no, killing you would be easy. Not when you're so entertaining."
Suddenly loud footsteps fill the room as he releases the grip on her hair, letting Hermione's head thunk onto the floor.
"She's yours for the evening Fenrir." Voldemort grants the hungry werewolf, "do control yourself, I need her ready for the surprise I have planned."
"Oh! A surprise!" Bella calls excited.
He nodded to her, "yes, one I'll need your help with Bellatrix."
From the ground Hermione could vaguely see Voldemort whisper something to the witch as she nodded in agreement. Soon, she heard them apparate away as Greyback crawled on top of her.
She shut her eyes, trying to shut him out, along with the impending worry that Voldemort would keep his promise.
"Someone will die."
This chapter was hard to write but very necessary in terms of (hopefully) getting Hermione out of Malfoy Manor. The ending scene is very pivotal of what's to come, especially at Hogwarts.
Again, thank you so much to all my new readers/reviewers, you guys are the greatest.
Until next time, I leave you with a preview:
From below, he began laughing. "Touchy subject, eh?" He wiped his bloodied nose, "she talked about you, you know. At Slughorn's. I, of course, was able to take her mind off you." He propped up on his elbows, staring Ron right in the eyes.
"Didn't know she'd be such a good fu-"
Before the words left his mouth, Ron dove on the floor and punched his cheek. Next, he grasped at his collar.
Confrontations are coming with not one, not two, but three Gryffindors! Stay tuned to find out!
Keep reviewing!
