"Witch!" They called out as she was held up by two of his men.
The War Lord of Santa Prisca called for her to be imprisoned.
He had asked for help from an acquaintance that worked with unbelievable occurrences. A friend he didn't know was a wizard apparently.
Kingsley told him he would send help forthwith.
The brief detailed how a rogue Peruvian Vipertooth had migrated too far and was now terrorising the War Lord's lands. And as the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she felt it was her duty to come and calm the situation.
The War Lord was shocked to discover that she wasn't here to kill the dragon, but to contain it until Charlie and his colleagues could arrive and bring it to Romania.
Once she calmed the beast, she tried to corral it into the holding pen.
But then it all went wrong.
The War Lord ordered his men to fire their weapons.
She had to do something.
"Protego Maxima!" She shouted and all the bullets halted in their path. Hermione not wanting to leave the Dragon in the pen, released the creature. "Go! Get out of here!" The creature stared at her for a moment before he jumped into flight.
Bullets rang over the horizon as the dragon made his escape.
After the debacle, the War Lord surrounded her with all his soldiers. There were too many. One came up behind her and knocked her down with the butt of his rifle.
Her head thudded on the rocky surface. She heard a snapping branch. A quick look up and she saw her beautiful wand broken in half.
"I asked my friend to send me his best, and he sends a sorcerous." He sneered down at her. "You couldn't even kill the beast."
"I was told to remove it from your lands, I would never kill a dragon in cold blood. That's barbaric."
"I will show you barbaric, bruja."
She knew he called her a witch, but his orders after were harder to understand. She felt herself being dragged across the rough terrain.
She could see something in the distance.
"Where are you taking me?" She asked her captors.
"We are bringing you to your new home, bruja." The man smirked.
It was then that Hermione noticed the large gaping hole in the ground.
"I hope you aren't afraid of heights." He grinned.
Panic gripped her body. They were going to lower her down.
"Please, there's been a mistake. Tell your master I don't belong here." Hermione struggled as one of the men wrapped a rope around her legs and torso.
"If I do that, then I am on the next rope lowered down." He smirked and pushed her over the ledge.
She was too frightened to scream.
Xxx
Hermione must have blacked out.
It must have only been for a minute.
One moment she was stood under the piercing sun, the next she landed with a thud on the ground.
She opened her eyes to see the rope she had been lowered on, sheared, and thrown down after her.
The sun's light barely illuminated the rudimentary conditions. There was concrete floors and railings around the edge.
Cells with metal bars and small fires burning to offer warmth in the cold.
Hermione never thought it would be this cold in Central America.
Maybe it was the lack of sun in the pit.
"What is your crime, my child?" She startled at the voice.
She turned and saw an elderly man with white hair, standing above her.
"I am not a criminal. I don't belong down here." She stood on shaky legs. She watched as the man limped down the stairs.
"They don't always need a reason. But once down, there is no way out."
His voice sounded defeated.
"They never gave me a trial, never charged me with a crime. They never said when I would get out."
"The only way out, is on the basis of one's strength to make the climb." He looked up in longing.
Hermione felt tears stream down her face.
"So, I'm stuck here?"
"Yes, my child. It's best you find a cell with a working lock. You don't want the men to find you until you're safe."
"What men?" A shivered went up her spine.
"Men who do belong in the pit." With that, he walked away.
She looked around and saw some men stirring in their cells.
Not wanting to be out in the open when they awoke, she followed after the man.
"Do you know where I can find a free cell?"
"There is one on the upper level. Go in before he returns."
A shiver when down her spine.
"Who's he?"
"The man who rules this prison." With that the man closed his cell and laid down on his mat, seemingly to go to sleep.
Hermione looked towards the upper level. Most of the cells there were closed, but sure enough there was one that was wide open.
"You better hurry." The man yawned.
With that, Hermione ran up the stairs. Her steps in her hiking boots, seemed to rouse some of the prisoners.
Hurry up! She begged herself.
There! It was a free cell. She ran inside and slammed the cell door shut. The lock was basic with a 5-digit combination.
If only she had her wand.
She saw some of the men exiting their cells and heading towards hers.
Wandless magic was her only hope.
"Colloportus."
She felt the magic expel from her core and the door sealed just as one of the men reached for her.
His arm reached through the bars.
He shook the door in frustration.
"It's been some time since a woman has graced our hell." His teeth snarled at her.
"Get away. Leave me alone!" She shouted at him.
"You'll have to leave at some point, puta."
He had called her a bitch.
She wanted nothing more than to hex his arse. But when he was joined by several other prisoners she settled against the far wall, away from their reaching hands.
Xxx
Occluding came in handy. Once the men saw their words had no effect on her, they moved themselves away.
Hermione allowed the mask to fade away and gave herself permission to cry.
She tried to conjure up a Patronus, to ask for help. But found her thoughts couldn't focus on the happy memory. Like this place was sucking out all her happiness.
The Muggle version of Azkaban.
Both worlds, muggle and magical both had the same capacity for cruelty.
She needed to get out.
The prisoners began chanting something. Hermione looked outside the cell bars.
There was a crowd gathered around the middle.
One man began to climb the wall.
A rope wrapped around his middle, like a safety harness.
He climbed and seemed like he was going to make it. He got to a stone ledge and looked like he was preparing to jump to another ledge.
Hermione held her breath as he made the leap of faith.
She gasped when he missed it. He fell for a moment before being caught by the rope.
A defeated man was lowered down.
The man she met earlier warned her that to escape, she needed to make the climb. The man that failed looked like a well-built quidditch player. If he couldn't do it, then how could she?
She heard a voice call out what sounded like an order to disperse.
All the gathered men headed back to their cells.
An armoured door opened near the lower-level alcove, and out walked a man. Hermione struggles to see his face. He seemed to be wearing something on his head.
Once the door was sealed, he turned around.
Hermione gasped when she saw the mask that covered his face.
It looked like a spider. The mask was imposing, and all men seemed to cower away from his gaze. He was built of hard muscle and towered above all others he passed on the way.
He walked with purpose up the levels until he reached hers. He didn't notice her at first. He almost made to walk by, when he stopped, as if startled.
He slowly turned his steely gaze towards her.
Hermione gulped in fear when he made his way over to her.
"Why are you in that cell?" His voice was amplified by the mask. He didn't sound pleased by her presence. Nor did he question her sudden appearance in the prison.
"It was the only one free." She answered.
"That is by design. No one is allowed in that cell but me."
"Is this one yours?" She trembled.
"No, mine is the next one." He pointed. They were cell neighbours.
"If you're not using it then why do you care?"
"That is privileged information. You will learn quickly that I run this prison."
"Be that as it may, I'm not leaving."
"That is not up to you, my dear." He grasped the cell door and tried to pry it open. His muscles bulged in strain.
She backed up against the wall. Praying for the spell to work.
He couldn't open the door. He seemed to grow frustrated at the unmovable lock.
"How is this possible?"
"It's locked."
"There is a combination to open the door. Only I know it. How did you change it?"
"I-I just did." She didn't want to admit the door was magically sealed. She didn't know how these men would react to her being a witch.
"When this door opens, I will remove you from this cell."
"Where would you expect me to stay?" She asked as he moved into his cell.
"It doesn't matter, as long as it isn't there."
"Well, I'm not moving."
"What happens when you need to eat? When you need water? How long do you expect to last?"
"As long as I have to."
He gave her a deathly look and proceeded to lay down on his bedding.
Xxx
Hermione was glad that the War Lord never checked her pockets. Her small, beaded bag contained an array of supplies. Inside there were several bottles of water and some food. Bread, dried fruit and a few other rations kept fresh with a stasis charm.
She drank some water, holding off eating until she felt hunger.
There were books, spare clothes, scissors, a toothbrush, toothpaste, some soap, a hairbrush, sleek-easy spray, shampoo and conditioner.
Just then a horrible thought entered her mind.
There wasn't a shower in her cell.
How was she meant to clean herself?
The masked man watched her with a raised brow.
He was lucky he was bald. No need to worry about hair care.
She took out the spare pillow and bedding. Never having removed the emergency supplies she took on the Horcrux hunt all those years ago.
She laid down and tried to conjure happy memories.
Her Hogwarts letter.
Her first time seeing her new school.
The first time she received an outstanding for her work.
When Viktor Krum asked her to the Yule Ball.
The first time she kissed Ron.
She grew sad again.
They both agreed to be just friends. But a little part of her hoped that he could sense that she was in distress.
That he could find her like he did before.
Her thoughts turned to the man in the next cell.
She could hear him as she turned over, grunting softly as he pushed up from the floor over and over. She allowed her eyes to travel the expanse of his back. Watched as his arm muscles flexed. He had taken his shirt off. The was a long harsh scar that ran along his spine. It stood out in the shadows.
She just continued to watch him, he didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat. And how he managed to do this in a mask was even more impressive.
She sighed remembering the time she visited Viktor in Bulgaria and the national team played shirts versus skins.
He stopped for a moment, head turning to look at her before carrying on with what he was doing.
She raised a brow when he placed one arm behind his back.
She was getting exhausted just from watching him.
He swapped to the other arm just as she closed her eyes.
Xxx
She had hoped that she would have been rescued by now.
One week had come and gone.
She had gone through her rations and water.
As she drank the last dregs, she heard the commotion at the lower level.
The masked man was fighting another prisoner for what seemed to be a bag of rations. This happened every few days from what Hermione could tell.
First come, first served whenever the food supplies were lowered from the surface.
There was a water pump in the centre and also showering facilities from what she observed.
Her cell neighbour often left, very sweaty after his workouts, and returns clean. She used her water to clean her body as best she could.
The previous occupant had left an array of sheets that she used as privacy screens.
She had yet to find out his name.
He didn't speak with her, nor she with him.
It seemed that she picked the perfect cell though. The other prisoners were afraid of him. That much was obvious.
Even the man facing against him for the extra rations looked terrified.
But he went for him anyway.
The masked man made short work of him, and soon he lofted his prize over his shoulder.
The crowd parted to let him through.
She watched him as he climbed the steps to his cell. He barely glanced in her direction as he settled down to sort out his winnings.
"I should thank you." He spoke out of the blue.
"For what?" She hardly recognised her voice. It sounded so scratchy.
"This bag is supposed to be yours."
"Oh." She gazed longingly as he pulled out some fruit, bread and even dried meat.
"Is that why you all fight when the food is delivered?"
"Of course. It is not often that extra is available."
"Why not share it between you all?"
He gave her a disbelieving look.
"That is not how Peña Duro works. It is each man for themselves."
"What about me?"
"What about you?" He took out a well-worn book and began to read.
"What would happen if I left this cell to get the bag?"
"You would be torn apart." He spoke matter-of-factly.
"How do you know that?"
"Because that is what happened the last time." He spoke sadly. It was the first time she saw another emotion in the man's eyes.
Her stomach dropped at the thought. That poor woman. Hermione couldn't stop picturing what that woman went through at the hands of the other prisoners.
"So, I'm going to starve to death?"
"No, dehydration will kill you before that."
He was right. She stared longingly at his bucket of water he collected this morning.
"What's your name?" She finally asked.
"I don't have a name."
"Everyone has a name."
"I am not like everyone, my dear." He continued to read, but Hermione was glad he wasn't ignoring her completely.
"My name's Hermione."
He paused his reading at that.
"As in Shakespeare?" His eyes met hers.
"My mother loved Shakespeare."
His eyes turned pensive.
"I cannot remember my mother." He went back to his book.
"What happened to her?"
"Typhoid. Many years ago." His eyes misted slightly.
"I'm sorry." It must have been tough on him.
"I do not want or need your pity." He spoke harshly.
"There's no need to be so rude. I was trying to be nice." She turned and moved to sit on her bed.
She tried not to cry again. This was the first conversation she's had in a week and it's with a man whose nastiness could give Snape a run for his money.
A shadow crossed her doorway.
It wasn't her neighbour but a younger man who looked like he was wasting away.
"My leader, Abraham, wishes to make your acquaintance. He brings gifts."
The boy held out a single apple and some cheese.
Hermione's eyes were glued to the food. She licked her lips. The apple looked juicy, and she was so thirsty.
She made to reach for the food when her neighbour stepped outside and stood in front of her cell.
"Run back to your master. His gifts are not welcome here."
"Y-yes sir. Sorry sir." The boy bowed and almost fell down the stairs as he rushed to leave.
Hermione balked at him.
"What in the name of Merlin did you do that for?"
"What a peculiar phrase." He noted as he moved back into his cell.
"Never mind my vernacular, why did you do that?"
"Abraham's gifts are never truly gifts. If you had accepted them, he would want something in return. Something only a woman could offer."
Her blood ran cold at his insinuation.
"So, if I had taken the gift, he would see that as…" She couldn't finish.
"You would be considered his property in his mind."
"But I'm so hungry." She whispered.
"I know." He said in understanding and went back to his book.
Xxx
She needed to get some water.
For the past 2 days, she's kept a log of when the men wake up.
She would have a 15 minute interval to get her water and run back. She grabbed three water bottles and hoped to fill them.
It was nearing the time. When the sky was red with the early dawn light.
It's now or never.
She pulled forward her remaining magic.
"Alohomora."
The lock clicked and she quickly padded her way down the steps.
The water pump was dead centre. All the cells looked over it.
Move faster. Don't look back, you'll waste time.
She reached the pump and prayed it wouldn't be squeaky today.
The first bottle was filled without a peep. It was stuffed in her beaded bag and she quickly filled up the second. On the third was where her luck ran out.
The screech rang out and she abandoned the task and quickly tried to run up the stairs. She heard the shouts of the men celebrating that she had left her cell.
She tripped over her own feet as she made it to within a few metres of her cell.
A rough hand flipped her over onto her back.
"Got you now, puta." The man who chased her the first day grinned. "You should have accepted my gifts."
He had one of his men hold her down as he began unlacing his trousers.
"Hopefully, you'll last longer than the last pussy." He snarled.
Just as she was about to scream, the man holding her arms was yanked in the air and thrown over the railing.
He landed with a thud and a groan. Hermione didn't really feel sorry for him.
Abraham looked annoyed at the interruption, but Hermione watched his face morph into one of fear.
"B-Bane. I will let you go first, amigo." The man backed away.
Who was this Bane?
"If you lay another hand on her, you will lose your hands." That was the unmistakable voice of her neighbour.
"Of course, amigo." Abraham slowly backed away.
"I am not your amigo." He spoke harshly. Hermione scrambled to a wall just as Bane gripped his wrist and broke it with a pop.
"You said you wouldn't hurt me." He yelped.
"I said no such thing." Bane leaned down and gripped Hermione by her upper arm.
"Hey!" She tried to wretch her arm away.
Bane gave her a sour look before acquiescing.
Hermione was relieved when he let go of her. But that was short-lived when he bent down and threw her over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" She yelled as he carried her into his cell. "No! Put me back in my cell." She felt panic course through her body.
When the door was shut, he threw her down onto his sleeping area. She backed up away from him with her fists raised in self-defence.
He took a step towards her.
"Don't come near me!" She screamed when he reached her.
He pushed her against the wall, and she struggled trying to push him off.
"They will not touch you if they believe you belong to me." He whispered against her ear.
"What?" She didn't stop resisting. But he was so strong.
"The prisoners would not dare touch my things." His hand threaded into her dirty hair to stare into her eyes.
He looked blurry through the tears.
"I am not your property."
"But they do not know that." He spoke lowly.
"What are you suggesting?"
"You will appear as my pet." She flinched at the word. "I will do my best to protect you."
"And what do I have to do in return?" She was worried he would suggest some quid pro quo.
"Stay alive. I don't want what happened to Melisande happen to another woman."
"Is that the woman who…?" She didn't finish her question; she didn't have to. His sorrowful eyes spoke volumes. That was the woman the prisoners killed.
She nodded in understanding.
"Can I at least go back to my cell?"
"It would be best if you stayed in here with me. As I said. They won't enter my cell."
"Okay." She sucked in a deep breath. Trying to process all this while having no water for two days was difficult.
She slowly pushed him back. He let her.
She removed one of the bottles from her beaded bag and took a large sip.
"Where did that come from?" His eyes travelled over her person.
"Oh um I-" Damn she was usually so careful with her magic, but she was so thirsty it never crossed her mind.
He took the bag off her. But to his muggle eyes it appeared to be a normal bag. He turned it over in his hands and looked over into her old cell.
"I noticed that the books you were reading have disappeared, along with the clothes you changed yesterday. One morning, I thought I saw you remove a book from this." He threw it back to her.
"Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you." She secured it around her shoulder for safety.
"Or maybe the tales of the bruja are true." He looked at her closely.
Where did he hear about that?
"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."
"Seeing is believing." He answered. She panicked as he left the cell, but when she saw him collecting her bedding from the other cell, she calmed.
Only slightly.
This man was the menace of the pit.
"Your name's Bane?"
"Yes." He answered and gave her the bundle.
"I thought you didn't know your name?"
"I do not. This is the name I was given. I earned this name. I am the bane of this hell."
She was about to ask another question when he thrust an apple into her hands.
"No more questions, Hermione. You must eat."
She took her first bite and couldn't stop the moan from escaping.
The men below began jeering.
"Be careful with the sounds you make. It makes the men hungry for something they cannot have."
Her next bite was accompanied by only chewing.
Xxx
Bane kept his promise.
She wasn't disturbed.
The others didn't even look towards Bane's cell.
When the next rations were lowered, Bane wasn't even challenged when he took two sacks.
She greedily ate the bread and cheese. Bane often admonished her for eating too quickly.
"Eating slowly is a learned skill. You will have to train yourself like I have."
"But I've never seen you eat." Then a thought entered her head. "I've never seen you without the mask either."
"And you never will." He answered.
"But you do eat? Right?"
"Of course."
"But-"
"I prefer to eat in privacy. I eat when you sleep."
She did sleep a lot down here.
"Oh." He sat down in his sleeping area to read the same book as before. "Would you like to borrow a book when you're finished with that one." She gestured to the little pile of tomes she had stacked.
His eyes travelled over the titles.
"Perhaps." His gaze settled on her. "That is very thoughtful of you."
"It's the least I could offer. You've kept me safe. I can lend you some new books." She blushed slightly at his compliment.
"It has been some time since I have read a new book."
"How long have you been down here?"
"What year is it?"
"It's 2006."
He looked as if he was trying to calculate the years he'd been in the prison.
"I have lost all sense of time it seems." He noted with a sigh.
"When were you lowered down?"
"I have been down here for my whole life."
"You were born down here?" She tried to mask her pity. She knew he wouldn't appreciate it.
"No, I was moved down here when I was very young. For the crimes of another."
"That's so cruel. Why were you sent down here for the crimes of someone else?"
"He escaped the War Lord. The only person that could be punished in his place was me and my mother.
"But why?"
His eyes turned venomous.
"He was my father."
"That's disgusting." She felt tears grow. He didn't seem upset when revealing his story, he seemed angry. "How could a person abandon their wife and child?"
"My mother was never his wife. And I am not his son." Bane's stiff rebuke put an end to the conversation.
Hermione's eyes were dragged towards the chants of the prisoners. Another climber was going for it.
And when he fell, she felt another sliver of hope die away.
Xxx
Over the next few days, Hermione found that she didn't mind sharing a cell with Bane. He gave her space and allowed her to peruse his selection of books.
Several were written in foreign languages, and the English ones were mainly scholarly textbooks, books by Greek philosophers and stories of empires and conquests.
He enjoyed some of the thrillers she had packed.
However, there was one incident when he opened a novel on a whim and within a few pages his eyes travelled over to her with a raised brow.
She gave him a questioning look before she leapt into action with a gasp.
"That's not for you." She made to reach for it, but he held it above his head. Very much out of her reach.
"Here I was, looking forward to reading about alpha wolfs and now I find that I was misled." His eyes crinkled at the corners. He was laughing at her.
"That's a romance novel. I should have hidden it away." Damn, she forgot that she had packed it.
"Why? It's certainly gripping." He placed his hand on her head to keep her away. "I was just at the part where the Alpha male was hunting his omega and was preparing to mate her. Shocking things for a young lady to be reading." He sounded more amused than scandalised. He was enjoying her humiliation.
"Fine, have the book." She stopped trying to get it back and went to the corner to sulk.
"I am only teasing, Hermione." He held the book aloft in her face. "You have no reason to feel embarrassed."
"Thank you." She gladly stuffed the book under her bedding.
A few hours later she saw him finish another exhausting workout with a contented sigh. He headed to his little broken cabinet where he kept his belongings.
"I will return shortly."
At that she stilled.
"Where are you going?"
"For a shower." He picked up his towel.
"I could use a shower." She said wistfully. She had been using a flannel and a bucket of water so far. But her hair was suffering.
He stood over her before a determined look crossed his eyes.
"Come with me."
"Ha ha good one." Her sarcastic retort wasn't well received. She scoffed when she realised he was serious. "You must be joking."
"Not at all. You have been complaining for days about your hair, and using the bucket of cold water is going to give you hypothermia one day."
"I don't complain. I narrate." She huffed. If only she had her wand she could give herself a scourgify and not have to deal with this.
"Be that as it may, you should come with me. A clean body leads to a clean mind."
"That sounds like a line Fred and George would use in this situation?" She scoffed.
"Are these men your…paramours?" He tested the word.
"No, they're my friends." She would give anything to see her home and family again.
Xxx
"Come along, I don't want to miss the hot water." He huffed.
She froze at his tone.
He admits that he could have said that a little more diplomatically.
"If you would like to have a shower, you are going to have one, and if anyone tries to touch you, I will break them."
At that, her stillness morphed into a reluctant laugh. "Why are you bringing this up now?"
"You can't hide away forever." A thought crossed his mind. "Is it because you don't want people to see you?"
She was a beautiful young woman. It was hard not to notice her in the dark pit.
"Well, I'm not exactly thrilled about a bunch of men trying to memorize what I look like so they can wank off later." She said bluntly, surprising him. "But, no, it isn't about that. I'm less afraid of the nudity than of what might happen if…" He could hear the fear in her voice.
"Nothing is going to happen to you while I am there by your side." He spoke each word like a promise. He met her gaze to show her he was serious. "Nothing will happen to you. Do you understand?"
Her face stilled, but he can see the unease behind her expression.
Even with her trepidation, she gave him a slow nod. "Okay." She whispered. "Do you want to go right now?"
"Yes, this is the time when I generally go." He opened the cell door and gestured for her to go ahead of him. Her fingers were unsteady, but she gathered her items and followed him into the open area.
They walked down to the lower level. Ignoring the curious gazes of the other prisoners.
The showers were at the far end of the lower level in a shadowed corner. The concrete was still damp. It never fully dries.
They needed to undress first, so that their clothes wouldn't get wet. Hermione took a deep breath, then begun undressing.
He knows what he looked like, his body is all scars and sharp edges, with enough muscle to make most of the prisoners think twice about challenging him. He had few issues with nudity. He's showered with enough men that now he doesn't give a damn.
He folded his clothing and slid it into one of the cubbies. Then he glanced at Hermione, half expecting to see her still clothed. But she was wadding up her own clothing with far more care than he took with his.
Without really meaning to, his gaze roamed over her. She was pale as marble and there was a slight gauntness at her hips and waist, as if she had lost weight in the short amount of time she's been in the pit. His eyes continued on their path and roved over her behind and modest-sized breasts. She caught him looking and he glanced away. "Sorry." He whispered, slightly embarrassed for an unknown reason.
"It's okay." She gave him a shy smile. "I mean, you said you'd keep me safe." She looked so innocent in the dark pit.
"I will." He nodded.
She picked up her towel and wrapped it around herself. It doesn't quite cover everything, leaving a gap up along her thigh to her stomach. "And it doesn't matter if you see. Everyone's going to look, anyways." She tried to sound brave. Sure enough, some of the men were leaning over the railings to get a look. They were smart enough to not approach.
Bane felt his anger rise at their audacity.
A line appears between her brows. As if she saw his flash of fury. "Bane?"
"Let us be quick. If anyone tries to come near you, I will break their spine."
She let out a little breath of nervous laughter. "You paint quite a picture, Bane."
He gave her a half-smile before it fell away. She can't see it with the mask. "Listen carefully. Those men watching out there think you're mine…"
She nodded. "Yes, I know. The first thing most guys ask at pubs is if I have a boyfriend. Not if I want to talk or even if I'm looking to be picked up. They want to know if I'm unclaimed." A scowl tugged at her mouth. She looked at him square in the eye, and her hands tightened on her towel. "Whatever you think is necessary, do it. I'll try to go along." She spoke quietly. "I trust you."
It hurt to breathe for a few seconds. The weight of her trust was staggering, and he feared it might crush him, but quickly he recovered his footing again.
He rested a hand at the nape of her neck. Her skin was soft beneath his fingers, the ridges of her spine at his callused thumb. They walked into the showers together. His hand guiding her the entire time.
The showers were designed for men. With half-walls between the showers. They would do little to protect Hermione's modesty.
A few of the men glanced down, straining to see.
He knew what they were thinking. Bane has marked her as his property outside of their cell. From everything he knew about her, Hermione was probably less than pleased about that. She was a fiercely independent woman, and he admired that. But here, other men will see it as a challenge. They will see her as something to be broken to their will.
A conquest.
Bane saw some men edging closer. He turned to meet the eyes of everyone on the lower level.
"If I see anyone's hands on their private parts, you will lose both." He snarled. One man let out a nervous laugh while others looked away. Only three kept watching, brazen and undeterred by his threats.
Bane took note of their faces.
"Come on." He instructed Hermione, and gestured toward the shower on the far left. Hermione hesitated, only for a moment, before slipping her towel over the wall.
Her arms went across her breasts and she looked at the far wall. Bane made sure she took the one nearest the wall. That way, if anyone wanted to touch her, they would have to go through Bane first.
She twisted the knob, and the first spray of hot water across her skin made her shudder. She made a small sound that could've been a gasp or a moan, and then all thoughts of eyes on her must fall away because she began to scrub her skin and her hair. She seemed to relax for the first time since…actually, this may be the first time he has ever seen that tight line in her shoulders relax.
Bane turned his attention to his own shower, and to his own surroundings. He kept a tight watch on the proximity of any other men, but they seemed to understand that to come near Bane right now would be to court death.
He kept his own shower quick, then he went to his towel and made sure his mask hasn't gotten wet. When he glanced over his shoulder, Hermione was wrapping her towel around herself. There was colour high on her cheeks, and she was smiling as she tossed her wet hair over her shoulders.
The curls looked even longer when they're wet.
"It's going to take a while to dry out, but I don't care." She smiled. Her good humour lasted all the way back to the cubby holes, where Bane began to put on his clothes. Hermione was dressed in her pyjamas when a voice called out behind them.
"Well, well. Looks like we just missed the show."
Bane was moving before the sentence finished. He half-stepped in front of Hermione, his knuckles drawn tight in a fist.
Abraham stood there, burly-muscled and a bandage across his arm to support his broken wrist. He looked a little worse for wear, but he was up and moving. Unfortunately. His mouth was set in a hard grin, the edges too sharp to be genuine.
"You got her into the showers with you?" Abraham clicked his tongue reprovingly. "If you were smart, you'd be sharing, amigo. I know a few people who'd pay well."
Bane's jaw worked. Most of the time, his fights in the pit have been impersonal. They had been about survival or helping someone else. But this one… this was different.
"She's not for sale," Hermione gritted out. Bane can't see her expression, but she sounded like she's biting back her anger. "Use your imagination."
"I'd love to, puta." Replied Abraham. "Problem is that our options are limited. You are the best thing to walk these halls since that pregnant bitch." He tilted his head, trying to get a better look at her around Bane's enormous form. "I could make it worth your while. Make you wetter than any shower. What happened before was all a misunderstanding."
"I'm fine where I am." Hermione replied. She sounded angry enough that if she were trained for it, Bane had no doubt she would be slamming Abraham's face into the nearest wall.
"So, you like being Bane's whore?" Scoffed Abraham. "He has something I don't?"
"Yes, he does." Hermione moved closer to his back. He allowed her to hold his arm.
Abraham's grin didn't shift. "Keep on talking, puta. Someone here will get to you." He took a step closer to Bane, his voice lowering. "He can't always keep you safe."
Abraham turned to enter the showers, bringing his crew along with him.
Bane didn't bother dressing the rest of the way, he merely put on his shoes. He checked to make sure that Hermione was ready to go, and then they retreated from the showers.
He was hyper alert the entire way back to their cell, his every sense straining for any sign of attack. It was only when they were back to their cell that he realised his hand was still hovering over Hermione's back. Not quite touching, just ready to grab her if he needed to.
His arm fell back to his side. Hermione wrapped the damp towel around her hair, wringing out the ends. Bane finished getting dressed. For a few moments, neither said a word.
"I am sorry you had to deal with Abraham once more. He shouldn't have gotten that close to you." Bane finally spoke. Now that the tension had left him, he was left with a lingering sensation of failure.
Hermione threw him an incredulous look over her shoulder. "You have nothing to apologise for." She straightened, and begun to brush out her hair. "Bane. I'm clean." She ran her fingers through her hair with some kind of wondrous disbelief. "And that git didn't even get a good look at me."
"He will try to again, now that he knows we are showering together." Bane was already planning for the future.
"I don't care." She spoke coolly. "He can look all he likes, but he's never going to touch me, right?" Again, there's the weight of her trust. She believed in him, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.
She exhaled and draped her towel around one of the bars to dry. She did the same with Bane's towel. "Listen. I…can you teach me how to fight?"
That startled him. "Why?"
She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. Her brunette strands are darker when wet, and somehow her eyes seemed even clearer after the shower. "Can you train me how to fight? It's just… I hate feeling like this. Maybe, if I knew I could fight back I wouldn't feel so…"
It was a good idea. Nothing was going to happen to her when he was around, but he can't always be near her. He wanted her to be safe with or without him.
"Yes, I will teach you."
