A/N: Warning! This chapter is torture content- I didn't get super graphic this chapter, but there is blood and there is physical violence and allusions to other things. If you're not in the right headspace to handle that, you may want to hold out on reading until you are. Also! You were so on the nose with your review Zeeksmoms haha I actually had a sizable conversation between Hermione and Lucius in the last chapter, but I got in my own head rereading it and with it being such an unusually short chapter I actually pushed the convo back until this coming next chapter- which it actually will fit better so it works out still :D I'll also eventually go back and make little changes and fixes and such when I get closer to the end of the story, this is very much still sort of the beginning though. I have a lot planned for this one that will hopefully all come together nicely by the end!

If you guys want to get in the same zone as me while reading, I totally put 4 Walls by Black Light Burns on repeat while writing this one out.

Chapter Eight / Mal De Mer

If she just concentrated hard enough she could pretend she was sitting on the shore of the Côte d'Azur where she visited as a child. The way the waves crashed into the jagged rocks below and the smell of the salt in the mist on the wind. With her daisy pattern yellow dress ripping around her knees with each incoming torrent, she climbed haphazardly down the beaten path to be closer. Remembering how badly she wanted to touch the tops of the water and feel if it was as cold as she imagined it to be when reading about it in her books. Wanting to know if she could physically feel the words of poets with just a skim along the tops with her fingertips. Thinking harder she tried to remember, what were the words that Baudelaire had written in her dog eared worn out poetry book? La mer est ton miroir; tu contemples ton âme. The sea is your mirror where you contemplate your soul. She'd never been able to see into her soul that day. Before she could reach down just low enough to touch the water her fathers strong arms scooped her up and dragged her back to the roadside, chastising her for wandering away with worry frantic in his voice. Perhaps it was better she'd not glimpsed it that day because it was surely a very different soul than the one writhing inside of her now.

Choking out mouthfuls of briny sea water brought her back to focus on the moment in front of her all too painfully. If the spell hadn't been so torturous to endure she'd have been almost curious at the crafting behind such a devilish spin on the aguamenti spell. With each turn of his wand the water filled and burned her throat again and again as she wretched it out. Hoarse and soaked she cried out loud an ear splitting scream before the next round could gurgle out her voice. Taken aback Dolohov staggered backwards clutching his ears and grimacing spitefully.

"You wretched little thing! If you don't shut up I'll make sure you shut up!"

His mood was far fouler than normal and he had been pushing into new methods she'd not been put through before. Pushing back against him when he was like this was treading dangerous territory she'd not been in yet. Every time she'd start to wilt and and feel surrender taking over her body she'd remember on the other side of the wall her companion was listening and waiting for her. It wasn't much in comparison, but knowing he was there for her gave her just enough strength to keep going. Throwing her head back between the waves in her throat she let out a low crazed laughter, giving into the edge of insanity that was creeping into her mind.

"Fuck, what has gotten into you? I know you're usually feisty for a while, it's what I like best about you, but you always give in to me after so long. I'm not in the mood to play, doll. Today is not the day you want to find out what will happen if you don't break for me."

He crouched down to her level and clutched her face between his fingers tight enough to send pain shooting through her head as he prodded the bruises on her cheeks. His breath sweltered against her as he inched his face closer and brushed his nose along the side of her swollen cheeks in a deliberately drawn out manner. Working his way down and nuzzling into the nape of her neck he dragged his lips along her shoulder blade as she fought to hold back from gagging at his touch. The unshaven hairs on his jaw pressed in hard as he forcefully rubbed into her to leave tiny micro scratches in her skin. His motions were so violent in such an intimate action that every muscle in her body tensed. Her mind buzzed at the thought that she'd even once shared such a similar interaction with Viktor Krum during their short-lived courtship. Albeit, much more tender and with a delicacy that someone as Dolohov could never know. Blood bubbled to the surface and he continued as the dark scarlet started to lightly coat his face. She could have sworn she heard movement beyond the wall and swallowed hard knowing he must have smelt the droplets that were weeping from her wounds. Dolohov though was unfazed and smiled to himself as he let his hands wander down her body as he languidly covered his face in the blood.

"Bleed faster for me, darling."

She'd barely even registered his words before he bit into her shoulder like a deranged beast and punctured her skin forcibly with his blunt teeth. Lapping at the wound with his rough tongue the blood started to gush more heavily giving him the flow he desired to fully cover himself from brow to chin. Looking up at her his eyes shone wild and frenzied and a grin spread across his face wider than she'd ever seen.

"I think I finally understand why the monster next door sucks down blood bags so fast. You taste so delicious, I've never felt so sinful before. It's the most intense sensation I've ever experienced. How can something so dirty taste so heavenly?"

This time she knew she heard movement. Something shuffled in the dirt in the room beside them but nothing was spoken. Her chest panged for a moment at his silence, but she knew he had to remain indifferent to her when their captors were around. She missed when it was just the sea water drowning her over and over. Anything else but this. Anything else but him being so inside of her like this. Even the physical violations felt less invasive than this. His tongue prodding into her open wounds like a leech. It was impossible to imagine that this man was just that, a man, while the actual preternatural being in the room beside her promised her he would never do this himself. The line between greed and need was clearer than it had ever been drawn before in her mind. She could bear the burden of the insults about herself and her blood status, she'd done it for years, but she couldn't hold her tongue at the comparison his loathsome self tried to make between himself and the man in the cell next door.

"At least he would actually need the blood. You're just a maniac who can't control himself from taking things he shouldn't have. Did mummy take your toys from you too much as a child?"

The venom dripped from her words as she glowered down at him. In an instant his smile contorted into a scowl and he rose up from his crouch to stand above her as straight as he possibly could. Stretching his neck to each side calmly he cracked multiple joints loudly and then saddled up as close to her as possible staring down at her, unblinking. His eyes glazed over as he looked clear through her before speaking in a tone darker than pitch.

"You've had your fun doll. Now I get to have mine."

A chill rattled up her spine as he continued to stare straight at her, having yet to blink. She wondered if this was what mice must feel like before snakes unhinge their jaws and swallow them whole. With precision quickness he reached back wrapping a hand behind her head clawing his fingers between her hair at the scalp and yanked back causing her to scream out in agony. His callousness was even more evident when she realized he'd even scrapped his own knuckles against the bricks in the motion. Pulling his hand back to admire the damage he'd done to his own self she watched in horror as he moved the oozing knuckles to his mouth drawing out his own blood. The glint in his eye returned as the very thought of what he wanted to do manifested in his mind. Grabbing her by the back of the head at the base near her neck he pushed his mouth drenched in both of their blood into her mouth. The sensation of his slimy lips was more than she could finally take and as she gagged he took advantage of the slip to stick his tongue inside of her mouth, pressing her to taste the iron gore herself.

"If you're going to subject me to the permeating scent of blood, the least you can do is at least feed me."

His velvety deep voice cut through the static that was engulfing her mind as she sputtered on the foul mix on her tongue. Dolohov spun to look towards the wall and a guttural terrifying laugh slid out of his throat.

"Sorry bloodsucker, I don't think you've quite earned tasting something like this. Maybe if you'd made yourself more useful to our lord you wouldn't be down here trying to eat rats. Pray tell, how did someone so high and mighty as you fall this far? I've heard so many rumors…"

He made a clicking sound with his tongue in disgust.

"You will not speak to me like this, it does not matter why I am here. I have more power and decorum in an inch of my wand finger than you have in your entire body."

His voice boomed authoritatively and Dolohov unconsciously straightened his spine as if a commanding officer was sizing him up. As the two engaged in their quips, the gears in Hermione's brain started to finally turn and fall into place as she heard his voice so loudly. The voice that was so familiar and just sitting out of reach on the outskirts of her memory. Someone so high and mighty.

"You're lucky that I cannot come in there and show you just how powerful I am, prat. For whatever reason we're not allowed to harm you. I suppose you must still have something that the dark lord wants. When the day comes that you're no longer needed though, just know that I will be the first one in line to lay claim to disposing of you."

This time it was Hermione who scoffed at Dolohov's self confidence and arrogance at thinking he stood a chance in a proper fight. Twisting his head to an angle he turned his attention back towards her and raised a hand that smashed into her face so quickly it snapped her head back into the wall. Ringing bounced through her ears so loud it echoed like the chimes of the church tower near that beautiful coast of the sea. Pounding and pounding out each chime for the hour marker. How many chimes would it take before the spots left her vision? She counted them like sheep until they started to dissipate at the number eight. Hunching forward onto her hands and knees her breathing grew heavier and she spit out the remnants of Dolohov's sanguine saliva from her mouth. Once again he crouched down to her level tilting his head down to watch her like a child inspecting something new with absolute curiosity.

"Do you not like the taste, doll? There's nothing I love more than tasting you. I want to taste every single inch, every fiber, of you. Until you can no longer separate me from you. I want to be embedded under every tendon in your body. The only way you'll be able to remove me is if you carve out every single organ, drain out every single cell. You can't escape me if I'm part of you."

His voice was achingly sickeningly sweet as he looked at her in perverse adoration. Something inside of her snapped at the look in his eyes as she looked at her. Looking as though he was looking right into her this time. Speaking to her as though she was merely something that could be owned, possessed. Without hesitation she launched herself forward at him wildly pinning him on his back against the ground and gnashed her teeth into the nook between his neck and shoulder just the same as he'd done to her. For the first time she finally heard him scream in pain and it was pure bliss. Before she could even fully enjoy the moment of vengeance he'd kicked her off of him and threw her body away from him. Pushing herself up she grinned up at him with a manic frenzy. Her fleeting victory however crumbled the moment he spoke.

"I knew you wanted to taste me too. It's infected you, this thing between us. Soon you'll lie awake at night just the same as I do. You'll feel it knotting and throbbing inside of you like a growing thorn bush. Soon you'll beg to see me."

His words haunted her as he brushed the dirt from his pant legs and slipped out of her cell without looking back. All she wanted was to feel like the victor but in the end she felt like she had been tainted with his evil deeds. It had felt so satisfying to tear into his flesh the way he'd done to her and feel him writhing under her in distress. It had felt so marvelous to be the one inflicting the pain instead of being the one in it. Had she looked darkness in the face so long that it had coloured her soul? Sinking back down to lay flat on the floor she rolled her face towards the wall.

"Lucius, do you think a soul can be washed clean again? Or will I be like this forever?"