Song for this chapter: Fallen Roses, subsets-underwater. Best to listen when Hermione is leaning against him while eating food.

-o-o-o-

Hermione didn't move from her spot, sitting on her bed against the very back wall. She had heard his steps as the man entered the cavern, but she didn't jump up to greet him. The blankets shifted around her as Hermione brought her knees to her chest.

"What happened," the man questioned.

She pushed down the urge to answer him. The following awkward silence extended an eternity.

"I bought you something new," he said softly, cautiously. The sound of a plate being set on the stone floor echoed. "I thought you might enjoy… some pumpkin pasties."

Hermione's mouth salivated at the memory of the dessert. Yet, she remained still. Hopefully, if she ignored him long enough, the man would leave.

Of course he didn't though. The rustle of his clothing told her he had sat down. Hermione still did not approach the food. She couldn't trust what was in it.

"Please," the man whispered, "I know you're hungry."

Hermione hated the way her stomach complained and ached for food. Despite her discomfort, the gryffindor's determination was stronger. Yet, the man evidently wasn't going to leave.

"The water," Hermione began, forcing her voice to be firm, "you're putting a sleeping drought in it."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Hermione had complete confidence in her conclusion.

"...Yes."

She nodded, eyes unknowingly locked with his own. "Are they making you give it to me?"

"No." The whisper was so quiet, Hermione thought she must have heightened hearing since losing her sight.

The fragile safety that had grown from this man began to crumble. Little pieces of her comfort breaking away and drifting into the eternal darkness. Hermione knew that the death eaters would never approve of the food the man had been giving to her. A scrap of bread and water every couple days would have kept her just barely alive. There was little doubt in her head that he had begun giving her the sleeping potion of his own free will after Bellatrix had stopped coming. The exhaustion she remembered feeling after being tortured, and the exhaustion she felt after drinking the water, were distinctively different.

Despite somehow keeping her safe from Bellatrix's wrath, the man was also a harm. Though a little part of Hermione wanted to know why. Why had he been giving her the potion? She didn't want to lose her trust in him. Her comfort. Her sanctuary. The prisoner hoped that he had a justifiable reason, if only to prevent her only solace in this life from becoming obsolete.

"Why?"

The silence between them grew again. It felt like an ocean of emptiness was growing between them.

"I thought…" He murmured, "it would be… easier… merciful…"

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. Merciful? That didn't make sense. How would forcing her to sleep be a mercy? What was happening to her when she wasn't awake?

"How?"

"You're not awake. I can imagine that you're… bored. I know you're lonely…"

The brunette turned away and closed her eyes. She didn't want him to see the truth of his words.

"So sleeping…" Hermione confirmed with grief in her throat, "You think I won't feel alone? That I won't think if I'm not awake? That it's better in my dreams?" Her voice cracked on the last word.

"I… thought you wouldn't… suffer…"

Hermione could have laughed at his reasoning if it weren't for the pain gripping her heart.

"Then get me out of here."

It was stupid. Idiotic. Complete lack of intelligent thinking if he really believed that sleeping would somehow lessen her suffering. Yet… Hermione could hear the emotion in his voice. She could tell by the way he stuttered, hesitated, as if afraid to hurt her with his words… that he was being honest. It wasn't a rational thought, simply a false hope driven by emotion.

There had to be another reason, Hermione thought to herself. A rational benefit to having her be subdued.

"What else?"

"...If you fought me, and tried to escape… We would both be killed. I can't risk that."

Ah, right. That made much more sense.

Somewhere, the ghost of Godric Gryffindor excommunicated her as her spirit broke.

"There is no hope."

-o-o-o-

Hermione laid curled in her bed. It wasn't a spot she left often. The cave was cold, and leaving the warmth of her blankets was an unpleasant experience. Before the bed, Hermione had adjusted to the chill, building up a tolerance and not noticing it as much. Yet now that she knew heat, her body protested the cold once again. Sometimes, she would stand up and wrap one of the blankets around her. She would take a few steps, maybe do some lunges, trying to release the stiff build up. But it was almost painful. The prisoner's muscles had weakened due to disuse, and despite the awkwardness, it was easier to crawl towards her toilet than walk.

Hermione adjusted to a different position and laid in thought. It was all there was to do. Why would she get out of bed, when there was no reason to? Desire for anything was absent in her. Hermione thought fondly of books. How much she wished to open the worn covers, slide her fingers upon the pages, and read the incredible words. Facts. Information. Stories. Worlds. People. Magic. The stimulation of her mind. Hermione often tried to entertain herself by retelling her favorite books in her head. How many chapters could she remember individually? How much could she recite from memory.

But the story would always drift off, and once again, her mind would either become empty or ache with memories of her old life. Even if she could complete the impossible and escape, nothing would be the same. How many were dead now? Had Voldemort taken over completely? Was Harry dead somewhere, just waiting to be found? She had no way of knowing. Hermione couldn't possibly figure out how much time had passed since her kidnapping. She couldn't remember how it happened. One thing she was certain of, was that it had been weeks ago.

The endless silence raged on, a torture without the use of weapons.

-o-o-o-

Hermione leaned against his shoulder as she ate her sandwich. It had been a couple days since she had confronted the man, and although she was still upset, his company was her life-support. It was a shepherd's pie today, with a roasted potato on the side. Even though Hermione's brain told her to eat everything quickly, she didn't think her stomach was big enough to do so.

"How did you sleep?"

She hummed, "fine."

"Any nightmares?"

Hermione smiled lightly at his prodding. "Not this time."

The arm around her curled-up form tightened, "Good."

Despite the silence that followed, Hermione felt content. Her food was hot and delicious. The blankets she was wrapped in were warm and soft. And his hold was the best comfort.

"Has Bellatrix returned," Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes," the man replied. Hermione's heart stopped. "I've told her different towns that you admit to being near, as well as a vague plan of what you and Potter were doing. She's satisfied for now."

Lies. Hermione's heart skipped as she comprehended the risk he was taking.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

He didn't say anything in reply, simply rubbed his hand along her arm.

"What is it like?"

"What is what like," he questioned.

Hermione hesitated, trying to find the right words, "working… with them?"

The man inhaled deeply and slowly released the breath.

"It's… difficult. My family… They are loyal followers of the Dark Lord." Hermione nodded against his shoulder, listening to his somber words. "They are proud to support him. I must act accordingly. I'm expected to impress not only my parents, but also him. If he suspects someone is betraying him, the Dark Lord won't hesitate to kill them and their family."

Hermione sipped her water and contemplated. The pressure of obedience must have been crushing.

"Sometimes, I notice this look in my mother's eyes. I think… she's scared."

"Are you scared," Hermione asked softly.

"...Yes…"

She turned into him and wrapped her arms around him. What must he go through? To act in such a way, watch horrible crimes happen, and stay silent as Voldemort terrorized the world? Did he act excited when another muggle-born was murdered? Or did he stay silent? Did he try to save others? Or did he stand by and do nothing? What must it be like to put on an act every single day of his life? It seemed cowardly to Hermione for someone to watch and do nothing as Voldemort wreaked havoc. Yet… was it not also brave? To live each day acting a role that didn't have the safety net of a mistake, trying to protect himself and his family? She wondered if she could truly hate him for being a death eater. It was expected of him, and to protest meant certain death.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.

A humorous laugh shook his shoulders. "It's not your fault, kitten. You've done nothing wrong."

Lips pressed against her forehead and Hermione closed her eyes. His hand cupped her jawline, thumb rubbing a circle on her cheek. Her breath hitched as she felt lips against her own. She returned the kiss, melding her lips against his. Sparklers lit inside her stomach and fulfillment flooded her mind. Yes. This was right. Here, being held by this man, and receiving his gentle touches. It was her everything.

The man's hand traveled into her hair as they continued to kiss. Hermione could only imagine the texture of her matted, oily hair, yet he didn't seem to mind. Instead, his fingers massaged her scalp, moving underneath the knots and ignoring the oils. His wet lips left her and travelled along her jaw. The hand gripped onto her hair and gently pulled, revealing her neck to him. Hermione gasped as he nibbled on the sensitive skin. He licked the wound before lightly blowing on it. Goosebumps jumped on her skin as shivers pulsed with her heart beat.

Her cocoon began to unravel, exposing her collar bone. Hermione's hold around him tightened as lips kissed and nibbled on the newly exposed skin.

The man gently put one hand around her back and the other on her shoulder. "Lay back princess," he whispered. His warm breath drifted down to her cleavage, tickling her nipples.

Hermione couldn't have resisted even if she wanted to. The man guided her to lay on her back, head resting on her pillow.

His hands slowly pushed the blankets to her sides, exposing Hermione's breasts. Heat rose to her cheeks and she brought her arms up to cover herself.

"No." Foreign hands gripped the woman's wrists. "Don't hide from me."

Hermione inhaled deeply as her arms were guided away and placed above her head. One hand held the two wrists together firmly. She wiggled her fingers and the man's grip tightened. Her heart beat furiously inside her chest. A warm breeze wafted down her torso, causing her to shiver and cringe. She was freezing without the protection of the blankets and now he was toying with her.

The man adjusted and rested with both legs on either side of her, lightly sitting on her thighs. His grasp on her restrained wrists didn't budge. A fire was cracking inside Hermione's tummy and sending waves of heat through her body, despite her exposed skin being frigid. Hermione's breaths came in fast, unsure pants. Her eyes were wide open, staring up at where the man's face must be.

A single finger began to slide along her collar bone and circle her neck. "Don't be scared kitten."

Defiance grew in Hermione, and even if it failed, she needed to defend her honor. "I'm not," she stated with a determined sass.

The prisoner whined out in pain as her nipple was pinched and twisted. Once released, a sharp discomfort pulsed into her breast from the pointed tip.

"Don't be rude kitten," the man's deep voice scolded in her ear.

She didn't know what to say. Hermione's stomach fluttered with excitement. Yet her body reacted with fear. She wanted to be close to the man. She wanted him to want her, and she wanted to please him. A quiet voice inside attempted to shout that this was dangerous, that he was the enemy, and that she needed to save herself. But as lips closed around the abused nipple and a tongue began to sooth the sensitive flesh, Hermione knew she didn't want to be saved from him.

The prisoner sighed with disappointment as his warm mouth left her nipple. Once more Hermione tried to pull her arms free but the man's grip tightened and pushed down.

"Patience kitten. Be a good girl." His voice was like satin entering her ears, enveloping all her thoughts, and goading her to desire approval. Everything was safe and tranquil.

Fingers tickled down her sides, creating shivers that traveled along her torso. They snaked to her belly button, circled it, then drifted back up. Hermione's previously ignored nipple now received the affections of his mouth. Wet lips kissed the soft flesh. His tongue circled around the pink bud. Teeth nibbled at her nipple and pulled. Hermione whined out and pushed her chest up, reacting to the pain and trying to lessen it.

"Hmmm," the man moaned, approving of her actions.

The warm mouth was removed from Hermione's breasts and he blew on her wet skin. His fingers had danced around the woman's torso enough and traveled to her hips. They gently pushed the blankets off her bare legs, causing her to shiver from the temperature change. Then they circled over and began snaking up inside…

Hermione let out a short whine before twisting her legs slightly, blocking the finger's path.

"Kitten," his playful voice scolded, "If you want this… then let me do this."

Hermione's breath hitched. Her hips buckled. Her head snapped back with her mouth wide. Wet fingers pushed between her folds and rubbed up against her little pink pearl. The two digits moved side to side slowly, softly stimulating the sensitive bud. Her arms were released and she brought them to her chest, holding the fists under her chin. It was as if Hermione was trying to curl inside herself. But she didn't make any attempts to stop the man's attention.

The man eased his fingers down, playing with her lower lips.

"Look how wet you are for me, kitten," he commented. Hermione felt embarrassment creeping up on her, yet it was not unwelcome. "Cute."

His fingers slid back up and began focusing solely on her clitoris. His touch sent electric bolts of pleasure shooting through her body. Hermione bit her lip to prevent herself from making a sound as his ministrations increased in speed. A tight knot was forming in her lower abdomen, being pulled taught. Up, down, side to side, and little circles stimulated thousands of nerve endings and she couldn't think about anything but his touch.

"Namm…" Hermione whimpered.

She pushed her leg against his own, and he obliged by freeing the appendage. The man grabbed her thigh and hooked her leg around his waist, giving him more room to touch her. Sweat broke out on her forehead as her body shivered. His fingers moved faster and Hermione felt the knot in her abdomen being pulled tight, it was going to snap.

As her hips lurched up, Hermione couldn't hold in her high-pitched moan. Her body flooded with desire and pleasure, causing her the leg around his waist to wiggle. Her eyes were closed tightly with her head pushed back and mouth open wide. His slick fingers slid down her folds and teased her entrance, lightly tapping her juices.

"Good girl," the man whispered.

Hermione gave an inaudible whine in response as she turned her head to the side and hugged herself. Little jolts of pleasure were still causing her body to tremble despite her focused breathing. Suddenly, the woman picked her head up and stared down at her hips, unseeing.

"Wha-what are you-"

Her question died in her throat as her eyes rolled and she fell back on her pillow. He had pushed both legs over his shoulders and his silky hair tickled her thighs. Embarrassment and insecurity flooded her as the man used his hands to move aside her hair and open her lips, giving him full access.

A stifled moan encouraged the man to continue, his tongue licking up her sensitive skin and resting on her little nub. Hermione's hands gripped his head, needing something to anchor her to this world as his tongue teased her. Her tummy seemed to shudder as his tongue flickered.

"Haa-mmm…"

The man released her folds, his face securely buried between her legs. His talented fingers trailed over her hips and under her butt. Hermione yelped as nails dug into her ass and pulled her against him. His tongue never stopped moving as he licked her, tickled her, and teased her.

"Nnnmmmm…. Aahhh…"

Hermione's little whimpers and whines echoed in the cell, bouncing off the stone walls and filling their ears. His touch overwhelmed her body as the woman tossed her head to the side, heavy pants escaping her dry mouth. She didn't think she could take another second of his affections.

"St-stop," the prisoner whimpered without force. It was a meek plea for mercy, which was ignored by her captor.

The man hooked his arms around her thighs, pushing them up and open, his fingers reached her center and pulled the soft flesh up.

Hermione's chest lurched up and she grunted. His tongue encircled her completely exposed pearl, sending electric bolts up her stomach and through her body. The woman's legs shivered, bouncing against his shoulder blades. Her fingers pulled tightly at his long hair, holding on for dear life. The loss of control over herself was terrifying, yet Hermione couldn't think of anything except his touch. It seemed like he was everywhere, surrounding her with his overpowering presence.

His tongue mercilessly licked the sensitive bundle of nerves, and Hermione felt herself explode. A high pitched moan ripped from her mouth, the echoes piercing their ears. Her fingers shook in his hair and her toes curled tightly. She felt herself flood with liquid, as if a damn had broken inside her center. Hermione struggled to breath correctly as her heavy pants seemed to stutter in her lungs. She shivered as the man's tongue slowly lapped up her arousal, stimulating the already overwhelmed flesh. Little whimpers broke from her as his tongue continued, enforcing the trembling of her legs.

Finally, the man pulled away and released her legs. They fell to each side, limp except for little shakes she couldn't control. Hermione clung onto his shirt as he crawled next to her, digging herself into his chest. She felt the vibrations of his chuckling and snuggled against him, relieved when he pulled the blankets over them. His arm wrapped around her back and pulled her close.

"Did you like that princess," he mumbled into her hair and kissed her clammy forehead.

"Y-yes…" She confessed.

Hermione felt him smile against her as he continued to kiss her head. With nervous hands, she trailed them down his torso and to the hem of his pants. She began to fiddle with the button.

"No."

Her fingers froze.

"Why not," she questioned quietly, "I want… to please you."

His low baritone voice reassured her, "You have."

Hermione pouted. She hadn't done anything for him yet. Her mind was still clouded with arousal and although Hermione felt herself, it was different. She felt small and vulnerable next to this man. It wasn't like when she had been with Ron, and they mutually led the activities. No. Right now, her body, mind, and soul were subservient to her partner, and behaving as such came naturally.

"I want you to feel good," she whispered.

His hand rubbed her head gently, lulling her to relax.

"Not yet kitten," he replied.

"When?"

Her companion didn't respond. Instead, she felt his wet lips press against her own. Hermione subtly opened her mouth, giving access for their tongues to dance. His lips moved against her, capturing her lower lip and nipping it. She whined lightly before it was released and he kissed her again.

All too soon though, his lips left and she frowned. He began to remove the covers from him and tuck them around her.

"I have to go back," he admitted regretfully.

Hermione began to sit up and reach out to him. She didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to be alone.

The man grasped her hand and her stomach fluttered as she felt his lips against his knuckles.

"I'll be back," he promised.

A few tears wormed their way to the corners of her eyes and she heard the latch of her cell and his steps fading away. Trying to save some of her dignity though, Hermione rested her head on her pillow and curled up.

Despite her body being drained from the physical activity, her mind wasn't tired at all. Yet, she had finished drinking her water…

-o-o-o-

A/N

Thank you for your comments! I can not explain how happy I get when I receive a notification saying someone reviewed my story. Hope you guys are enjoying the latest developments. Review again! 3