A/N: Hello all, happy day. See the warnings ;)
Thank you to Lib McGranger, you genuinely wouldn't have this fic without her.
-0-
Trigger Warning for scenes of torture, terror, physical harm, emotional fallout: The Mudblood Bit.
-0-
To say things had not gone well was an understatement of epic proportions. Things had gone so badly, in fact, that Hermione, only minutes earlier, had been forced to cast a stinging spell directly into Harry's face. Thankfully, it had made him unrecognisable for the time being.
The reasons for such a thing became immediately more apparent.
"Need to get this lot up to the Big 'ouse," one of the Snatchers grunted as they were pushed into a make-shift camp. They'd given false names but Ron's hair was immediately recognisable and he'd already been assaulted for lying about who he was. It seemed like they were doomed as she, Harry and Ron were separated from the others that had been rounded up as well.
"Why?" A voice growled from inside a dark tent.
"That's a Weasley," he explained, nodding to Ron. "And this one's the Mudblood that's usually wiv Potter. And -"
Hermione watched as the Snatcher that had caught them showed the Sword of Gryffindor to the emerging figure. She bit back a gasp as the figure came into view. He was an extraordinarily big man, with scars all over him. One, in particular, stood out more than the others; a bit mark on his neck. She knew enough to realise immediately who they were standing before.
Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf.
His meaty forehead crinkled in surprise as he inspected the sword and looked down at the three of them. He met Hermione's eyes and she shivered.
"Bring 'em."
The Big House turned out to be a Manor. And as they rounded the corner of the road leading up to it, she heard Ron swear behind them.
"Malfoy," he whispered.
"Oi," the Snatcher hissed quietly, ducking out of Fenrir's line of sight. He slapped Ron's head for good measure. "Shut it."
They marched forward through the big gates. Hermione's heart was thumping so hard she could barely breathe. There was terror building in her bones.
And things only got worse.
Draco had, thankfully, not named Harry, though Hermione could see that he recognised them. It was such a small mercy and Hermione felt so much relief that she almost relaxed.
Almost.
"Where did you get this?" Bellatrix Lestrange suddenly screeched. She'd been mid-discussion with Fenrir Greyback about who would take credit for catching the Mudblood and the Weasley when she saw the Snatcher place the Sword of Gryffindor on the table.
Hermione quaked but did not speak. She wished Harry and Ron were still beside her, but they had been taken away not long after they'd arrived.
"WHERE?"
She opened her mouth to refute that it was nothing but a copy but the chance was taken away from her. Her entire body turned into pure pain. Every nerve-ending burned, ever hair follicle stung and her teeth clamped together so quickly she felt them crack. As the Crutiatus continued, she couldn't even scream, though in her mind she did. She had never felt such pain. And then, just as abruptly, it stopped.
She gasped and fell face down on the cold flagstones of the Malfoy's dining room with a thud. She heard a series of groans and whimpers and she twitched painfully. As Bellatrix laughed maniacally, Hermione quickly realised that it was her own body making the noise.
"Now," Bellatrix said sweetly. "Where did you get THIS?" The tip of the sword slammed into the flagstone beside her face, showering her with sparks as it slid across the floor. "WHERE?" She tried to speak. She really tried but her body was still quaking like it was under the curse again. "I will not ask you again," the menacing voice hissed.
Hermione screamed in pain as strong fingers curled around her bicep, aggravating her skin and nerves before she was dragged to her feet. Her teeth were chattering so badly she was struggling to draw breath, let alone form words. She tried to remember what it was that she was being asked, but with Bellatrix prowling in front of her like a cut snake, she had no hope. That curved wand danced through the air, being switched between hands.
"It's a fake," Hermione managed to hiss between gritted teeth. "A copy."
Bellatrix couldn't seem to hear her and she continued pacing endlessly while she mumbled to herself.
"How did they get it," she hissed, spinning and marching back the other way, the sword dragging behind her. Hermione could slowly feel her limbs coming back to life, and with them, a heat from the ribbon around her wrist that was so intense that she nearly ripped it from her skin. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She had pins and needles in every part of her. She needed to get out of this room. She needed Harry and Ron and - she gasped, drawing Bellatrix's attention - Minerva.
"You've been in my vault, pretty thing?" She spoke so sweetly that Hermione recoiled. She shook her head violently.
"No," she managed to choke. "No. I, we," she cowered as Bellatrix swung the sword round and leaned it on her shoulder. "No! How? she questioned. "We took a copy from school. Ages ago. It's," she swallowed, closing her eyes, then deciding she'd rather see whatever her fate was coming head-on. "It's only a copy."
Bellatrix's wild eyes stared at her and she desperately tried to put up as many Occlumency blocks as she could in case the crazy bitch knew how to read minds.
"Draco!"
"Y-yes, Aunt Bella?"
"Bring our Master forth."
"I -" he glanced at Hermione with wide eyes. "Why do I have to do it? She's nobody. We don't even know whether she's -"
"This is my capture," Fenrir growled, stepping forward.
An explosion of the coat of arms above the fireplace made Draco and his mother squeal in fear as Bellatrix strode over and ripped Draco from his mother's grasp.
"Do not test me, Draco," she seethed, pulling his wrist forward and pressing the tip of her wand into his Dark Mark.
Hermione felt such heat in her own wrist that she squirmed even as she tried not to draw attention to it. She curled around herself and cradled her wrist, screaming for Minerva in her head but clamping her teeth together as hard as possible to stop herself from making any noise at all.
Hermione.
She sobbed into her arms while Draco's mother and Fenrir Greyback argued with Bellatrix about bringing Voldemort to the Manor before time. In truth, imagining Minerva's voice might be the best thing she could hope for in the situation she found herself in. At least she could hear it before her death. It would bring her comfort through the pain.
Hermione. Someone's coming. Hold on.
Hermione shuddered. Had she imagined Minerva's voice, she would not have chosen those words, but she was so shaky and discombobulated that she no longer knew what was real and what was not.
Breathe. Someone is coming to rescue you.
That really sounded like -
Love? You promised.
She blinked and took a deep breath. Minerva was in her head. She didn't know how or why, but she was there and that was something she could cling to. She eased out of her fetal position and shuffled toward the far end of the room.
"Where do you think you're going -"
Bellatrix laughed as she cursed Hermione again for a moment. This time she did scream. She screamed so loud her own ears rang with her voice. She bowed so tightly that her back cracked and her head slammed on the floor and then, again, it was just gone and she was left shaking.
"Now," she sneered. "Let's have a look at you."
Hermione squealed as her arm was captured between strong fingers. Thankfully, the ribbon was so filthy and well worn that it looked like nothing as Bellatrix dragged her back to where she'd started.
"While we wait for my glorious Master," she hissed happily. "I think we shall have a bit of sport."
Hermione glanced at Fenrir, who was smiling dangerously.
"Ooh would the Mudblood like that?" she cackled, before turning and pointing her wand at Fenrir as he stepped forward. "You're off-limits until we see The Master."
Bellatrix looked around at Draco and if anything her smile became even more terrifying.
"My sister was telling me only the other day how you hit poor Dwakey on the nose."
Hermione's eyes widened and she glanced at Draco, who just looked sick.
"Did you?"
"I -"
"Did you?"
"It wasn't -"
A flash of silver rendered Hermione mute, right until the moment Bellatrix knelt on her wrist and started drawing it across her skin.
"No!" Hermione screamed, her body violently trying to wriggle out of Bellatrix' grasp. "Please."
"I think we'll have one letter for every year you've tormented my nephew and a few for luck, hmm?"
Bellatrix cut into her forearm over and over, until Hermione's voice was hoarse from the endless screaming.
"Get off her," came a gruff voice, and a hand gripping her hair. "She's mine."
In the terror of a new torturer, Hermione panicked and lashed out, feeling her magic just desperate to be released.
The hand in her hair was ripped away and a loud crash sounded as something heavy slammed into the table at the side of the room.
"Ooh, the Mudblood has some power," Bellatrix cackled. "I'm going to enjoy this."
Hermione blinked, horrified at the unleashed power and the prospect of making it worse and at that moment a number of things happened.
Harry and Ron suddenly appeared and screamed out her name as they bolted into the room. Bellatrix pulled her in close and the knife that was still dripping blood was pressed against her throat.
And then Dobby, darling little Dobby, stood defiantly before them. He spoke so eloquently as Bellatrix screeched incomprehensibly down her ear. Hermione clutched at the strong arm around her neck and her vision started to darken as it tightened. She fought tooth and nail as the craziness unfolded all around her.
She heard Dobby chastise Bellatrix, somewhere far away. There was a redirected spell and then Dobby snapped his fingers and Bellatrix was thrown backwards. The sudden force caused the knife to slide across Hermione's throat with a sting but she didn't have the energy to care. She dropped to the floor and couldn't respond when someone asked her whether she was okay. She wasn't sure what happened next, but she cried out in pain as she slammed into wet sand barely a moment later.
The force cleared her head somewhat and she glanced over to see Harry cradling Dobby in his arms. Unable to cope with anything else, Hermione passed thankfully into darkness and searched for an echo of Minerva's voice to help ease her passing.
