A/N: TRIGGER WARNINGS ABOUND. Read at your own risk. If you are triggered by ANYTHING, I suggest you turn back now.
As always, alpha love to honeysweetcutie :)
Forever fancasting Tom Hughes as Tom Riddle.
#sorrynotsorry for this.
The Revel
"Ennerverate!"
The spell hit Hermione square in the chest and she gave into her body's natural reaction to fight for a moment before she realized where she was. No longer was she standing in the middle of the grass with Draco in the safety of the wards, but instead, she was now sitting in the middle of a large room. Hundreds if not thousands of tiny flames flickered, be it from the sconces on the walls, the candelabras on the table, or the floating sticks near the ceiling. They cast shadows on a space already made eerie by the large number of Death Eaters leering down at her.
She glanced down at herself to find that her ankles and wrists were bound and there was a gag in her mouth. Her clothes were still on, but she wasn't sure for how much longer. Her only hope was that Voldemort would leave them on her until they were in that private room. She glanced up when she heard a throat clearing. Her eyes landed on Draco briefly before her gaze continued to move up to Voldemort sitting on his throne just to Draco's left.
"Good morning, Mudblood."
She swallowed as best she could with the gag pressing down on her tongue. Her fear was making her tremble, no matter how hard she fought to keep it from consuming her. Unable to speak, she just continued to stare at the Dark Lord.
With a flick of his wrist, she felt herself being lifted and dragged through the air, only to land hard on her knees before him. She groaned, but kept her head down, staring at the tattered ends of his robes instead. "Young Master Malfoy has brought me the very thing I require for tonight's ritual."
He leaned down and grasped her chin with hands colder than ice. She struggled as a reflex, but she complied, her gaze meeting the red slits he had for eyes. "My Lord said he wanted the perfect sacrifice," Draco drawled, using a voice Hermione had never heard from him. "When I got the lead on Potter's Mudblood, I knew I couldn't let you down."
Voldemort smiled in her face a moment before he released her and sat back. "You have done well, Draco. Bring her to my chambers. Have her prepared for the festivities," he ordered and Draco stepped forward to grab her bound wrists. "It is fortunate that you were already named my guest of honor for the night. You have done me a great service. Had it been someone else, I would have had to change that honor."
Draco inclined his head. "The honor truly is mine, My Lord," he said, pointing his wand at Hermione's bound feet. The rope twisted into shackles on a short chain to allow her to walk. Finished, he stepped out of the room with Hermione in tow.
Hermione knew it was too risky to break character, so she wasn't expecting him to speak to her, but she had hoped that he would. It was surreal to see him this way. This was how she always thought he would turn out, but she had been lucky enough to get to see the real Draco. She shook herself out of her thoughts and focused on walking behind him.
She wondered whose Manor it was they were walking the halls of. From what he had told her, Voldemort had abandoned his station at the Malfoy estate almost immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. He had killed Narcissa for lying about Harry being dead and Lucius had been punished in such a way that left him like Frank and Alice Longbottom. The difference being he was left to suffer and rot in the dungeons.
The only reason Draco was spared was that Voldemort had interpreted his visit to the Room of Requirement as trying to stop Harry and the destruction of the Diadem. Draco had fought hard to prove that he was nothing like his father; that he could follow orders without qualm and rose higher than Lucius ever had. He even surpassed the Dark Lord's expectations.
Hermione almost smirked with triumph. Draco was nothing like his father. The higher he rose in ranks, the more information he gave to the Order. Without his help, they would have been stamped out long ago.
They stopped in front of a massive set of double doors. Draco tapped his wand to the seam and there was a moment of silence before a series of clicks filled the air. Soon, the doors were opening on their own accord and Hermione stepped into what could only qualify as a royal bedroom fit for a king.
Draco stepped over the threshold and pulled her along with. She heard the groan of the doors and turned to watch them close behind her. He led her across the room and through an ornate silver arch to find a lavish bathroom decked out in everything one could desire of such a space.
"Strip."
The bindings on her wrist, the gag, and the shackles on her ankles disappeared, but Hermione was too busy taking in the grand bathroom to notice. He brought her out of her daze by grabbing her chin and yanking her back to reality.
"Do not make me repeat myself, Mudblood."
It took a moment for her to realize that they weren't alone. That there were three women on the opposite side of the room, facing the wall. They wore the same dull green robes, had braided hair coiled into a bun, and silver cuffs around their left biceps. They were waiting on orders from Draco.
She nodded and began to get out of her clothes. She wondered why the Dark Lord hadn't done this part in the throne room, but decided she was grateful for the modicum of privacy she was offered. When she was finished, Draco vanished her pile of clothes and took a deep breath, his eyes raking over her before he turned away in disgust. She knew it was the way he felt about the situation and not directed at her, but it still stung.
"The Dark Lord commands you try and leach the Mudblood of as much filth as you can," he said, his tone leading the women to turn and face them. "See to it that she is presentable. Scrub her until she bleeds if you have to."
Hermione watched as he turned on his heel and moved to stand near the arch. He stood in profile since he was supposed to keep an eye on her, but he made sure to keep his eyes averted as much as humanly possible while the women stepped forward and began the cleansing process Draco had demanded of them.
They had indeed followed his orders to the letter. By the time she stepped out of the scalding hot tub, her skin was pink and raw from how hard they had scrubbed. There were some places where blood had welled up to the surface, but she knew the pain was nothing compared to what she was about to experience. They had combed and washed her hair as well, her scalp still buzzing from how rough they had been with comb too. They didn't even dry her with a magic, not that she was sure they had access to it, or pat her down with a towel before bringing her forward to stand by Draco once more.
He beckoned for her to follow and then stopped once more in the middle of the room. "Arms up."
Her arms rose above her head and she tipped her head back to watch as ropes appeared out of thin air. One end of each rope coiled around her wrist, nearly cutting off circulation almost immediately while the other end tied itself to rings in the ceiling. She wondered if they appeared with the ropes or if they had always been there. She tried not to react when the ropes lifted her up until she was standing on her tiptoes, but the slightest of whimpers escaped her lips.
Draco's eyes flicked to hers for a second before he focused his wand on her ankles. Similar ropes and rings sprouted from the ground and wrapped around her, stopping only when she was spread as wide as possible. She shifted uncomfortably in her restraints and wondered how long she would have to wait for the festivities began.
"Leave us," he ordered and the three women from the bathroom took off towards the door. Alone, he looked back at Hermione. "It shouldn't be long now."
She gave a slight incline of her head, but nothing more.
True to his word, no more than a minute later, albeit a long one, the door to the room opened again and in walked a man that Hermione had only seen in Draco's memories. She knew what this man could do to her; that it was Voldemort; Tom Riddle, but there was something hauntingly charming about his human side. She could see how his looks and charisma tied into his psychotic nature.
But he didn't come alone.
Draco met her gaze for a split second, but it was enough to convey that the envoy was not normal. He stepped aside, allowing her a better view of who was walking into the room. They were the other high ranking Death Eaters. The only thing about this moment that gave her comfort was that Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix at the Battle of Hogwarts. The thought of her having another go at torturing her had Hermione nearly emptying her stomach now.
Yaxley. Dolohov. Nott Senior. Alecto Carrow. Rowle.
"They will not be staying," Riddle announced, more for their benefit it seemed.
Alecto was the one to step forward, her hands landing on Hermione's stomach, sliding up to cup her breasts. It was only for a second before Draco wedged his way between them and shoved her back. "The Mudblood was my gift, Carrow. My prize to claim."
Riddle stared at the pair and nodded his head. Alecto hung her head. "Forgive me, My Lord. I should have asked permission."
"Yes, you should have. You may leave now."
She looked up, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes. For a moment, Hermione wondered if she was going to argue, but she seemed to get ahold of herself and took her leave of the room.
Riddle's eyes flickered amongst the remaining Death Eaters. "Anyone else feel the need to touch the Mudblood without permission?"
The four men shook their heads, but kept their eyes roving her body. "What about, with permission?" Dolohov asked, sending chills up and down her spine.
"No." Riddle's response was immediate and flat. Hermione swallowed hard, suddenly glad that the rumors of Riddle's possessive nature were true. "Take one last look, gentlemen. Rowle, you can hand the vials to Draco." Draco held his hand out for three vials. Once he had taken them, Riddle waved his hand, opening the doors again. "Leave us."
Once it was just the three of them, Draco held up the vials and looked at Riddle. "May I ask what these do, My Lord?"
The slight tremble in his voice made Hermione panic. This was not the norm either it seemed. Riddle stepped up to them, pointing to the clear one. "These are a new concoction." His remained passive, but his eyes blazed with pride. "No matter how much pain we put her through or how many times she comes, her brain will reset." He turned to Hermione then and dragged a knuckle across her jaw. "No getting lost inside your own head, Mudblood. You'll be lucid for every little thing we put you through."
Hermione she felt as though she couldn't catch her breath.
"This one," he said, pointing to a pink liquid. "This one is special." He did smile then and Hermione had never seen anything more cruel in her entire life. "This one is an altered lust potion. It builds steadily. The more pain you experience, the more pleasure you feel and your lust increases. The more pleasure you are denied, the more pain it causes. A vicious cycle really. Most test subjects died quickly. They were unable to handle it."
He then tapped the last vial, a blue liquid.
"Rowle developed an antidote. Fast acting. One drop before it's too late and it cancels the lust. Then when the clear liquid takes effect and your mind and body are reset, the pink one can be administered and we begin again." His smile widened at Hermione as he placed a hand on her chest and let it travel slowly until it stopped just below the apex of her thighs. "I promise you will not die until I complete the ritual. No matter how much you beg."
He stepped away then, undoing his cufflinks as he moved to sink into the plush chair he conjured out of thin air.
"Give her the clear one, Draco."
Draco drew the clear vial into his free hand and then pocketed the other two. He stepped closer to Hermione, holding her gaze as his hand sank into her hair and yanked her head back. She yelped from the unexpected motion as well as the pain. He took advantage of her parted lips and dumped the contents of the vial into her mouth. She choked on it; half from fear half from the angle Draco had neck at. A few drops of the liquid spilled out from the corners of her lips, but she the majority of it eventually slid down her throat and coursed its way through her system.
She expected to feel a burning sensation or ice in her veins; something. Anything. But there was nothing. She blinked and took a deep, ragged breath as Draco released her and stepped back. She brought her head forward and watched as he moved to stand behind the chair Riddle sat in. Her gaze slid to Riddle and the moment it settled on him, he got to his feet. She struggled against her bonds as he stalked towards her. His eyes never left hers.
"Did you come here to kill me, Miss Granger?" he asked, stopping in front of her.
"Yes."
Her eyes widened and she saw Draco's eyes flash with uncertainty and fear as he met her gaze over Riddle's shoulder.
Riddle's lips twitched into the faintest trace of a smile. He waved his hand and a long stiletto dagger appeared, his fingers curling around the hilt. The emerald-studded handle glittered in the firelight when he moved his hand. She struggled against the bonds more as he pressed the tip of the blade above her heart.
"Young Master Malfoy here claims that he had a lead on your whereabouts. That he tracked you down to present me as my perfect sacrifice." He applied more pressure and a small whine left her throat from the sharp pain. "Is this true?"
"No."
Panic flared through her, making her entire body tremble. Both times he had asked her a question, she had felt the answer slip past her lips before she even had the chance to lie. The only thing she knew that did that was-
Riddle's smile was cruel as her eyes went wide. "Ah, I believe you're catching on."
He lowered his hand, a hiss of pain seeping past her lips as the blade dragged down her skin. It felt like a papercut at first and then slowly began to burn. She didn't need to look down to know that blood had reached the surface; she could feel it oozing down. She forced herself to keep her eyes on Riddle, afraid of what he might ask next if she looked at Draco again. If he was using Legilimency on her, she didn't feel a presence in her mind.
"Draco has always known where you are, is that correct?"
"Y-yes," she bit out, her body sagging in relief as he removed the blade once it landed at the top of her navel.
"And why is that, Miss Granger?"
Hermione bit down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood. She could feel the Veritaserum forcing the words up her throat, pushing against her lips until she spoke the truth. "Because Draco works for the Order!" she hissed, hating herself more than she thought possible in that moment. Hermione's vision blurred with tears as she sobbed in fear of what would happen to them, but she could tell from the unchanging expression of Riddle's face that he had already known Draco was a spy.
"Has Draco told you how I treat my consorts?" he asked, moving out of sight behind her. "Has he trained you to withstand my methods of torture both mentally and physically?"
"Yes."
Draco had gone paler than normal and he was still as a statue, afraid to move or draw attention to himself.
Riddle was nearly flush against her back, his hands rising to her hips, ghosting over her flesh as they rose higher and higher. She shuddered as he gently cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling over her nipples, causing them to pebble. He pulled and tweaked them until they stiffened and then he slid one hand forward, his finger pressing against the cut he had made. She cried out as he ran the digit down; his finger slick with blood by the time he reached her navel. She swallowed hard as he continued down, dipping the bloodied finger between her legs and circling her clit with it. His other hand squeezed her breast at the same time and she moaned; half in agony, half in pleasure.
"As I'm sure you are both well aware of now, I had Rowle add Veritaserum to the clear potion," he said, never ceasing his ministrations. "I have had my suspicions about you for quite some time, Draco. I cannot have a spy high in my ranks. Not after tonight. Not once I sacrifice the Mudblood and gain the ancient magic."
Hermione's hips bucked as her blood on his finger mixed with her own arousal, allowing him to slide effortlessly over her clit, driving her to the brink of insanity. Whimpers and moans fell from her lips as she closed her eyes. She didn't want to look at Draco when Riddle pushed her over the edge. The moment her lashes caressed her cheeks, Riddle's finger slid the length of her slit and pressed into her core, making her body arch.
"Tell me, Mudblood, do you want to come?"
"Y-yes," she sobbed, guilty that body would betray her by being aroused and angry at her truthful response.
He added another finger and picked up the pace of his actions, his thumb brushing over her clit. "Draco, aim your wand at her," Riddle demanded.
Draco's rage gave way to confusion as his hand rose. His movements were jerky, as if he wasn't in control of his own actions. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. Hermione noticed the exertion on his face; as if he were fighting something.
"Let us test Rowle's creation," Riddle purred in her ear, his hand leaving her breast to curl around her jaw, holding her in place. "You will come for me, Mudblood. Your lover will watch as another makes you cry out in pleasure." Fire threatened to consume her as she tried to hold off on her orgasm, but she knew it wouldn't be much longer until she caved. "When she starts to sing for us, Draco, you will use the Cruciatus until she can no longer carry a tune."
"I won't."
The tension in Draco's voice was just as bad as the tremble in his arm as he trained her wand on her. The last time she had seen him like this was in the memory Harry had shared with her of the night Dumbledore died.
"You will," Riddle assured him. "The command has been given. You have no say in the matter."
Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she let out a wail of pleasure and crested. The moment she felt herself slip into oblivion, she heard Draco's voice cut through with the Unforgiveable curse. Her scream resonated off the walls at the feeling of being torn in two. It hit her square in the chest and pain exploded through her body, twisting her pleasurable high into a true nightmare.
When it was over, Hermione sagged against her bonds, trembling in the aftermath. Time seemed to be dragging through the mud, but with each passing second, she could feel it happening. The potion flowing through her veins was doing something to her nerves. After what she was sure was less than a minute, though it felt like hours, the pain and pleasure she had succumbed to moments ago felt like a distant memory. Now, as she opened her eyes to see Draco kneeling beside the chair, wand in front of him and Riddle standing between them looking pleased, she felt as she had the moment she'd woken up in front of his throne.
As if nothing had happened yet.
Riddle smiled at her as though she were a present and he was a child on Christmas morning. "Rowle will be thrilled to know his potion is nearly perfect." He held out his hand to Draco who only glared up at him in return. "The pink potion."
Much like with his wand, Draco struggled against the command, but lost the battle. Once Riddle had the lust potion in hand, he turned and approached Hermione. He placed a single drop on the tip of his index finger, the one still stained with her blood and tacky with her arousal. His other hand, still holding the vial, grasped her chin, wrenching her mouth open so that he could force the drop of potion into her mouth.
She choked as his finger nearly hit the back of her throat. She felt the chill of the potion on her tongue; the floral flavor mixing with the metallic tang of blood and musk of her slick for a one-of-a-kind taste. She swallowed around his fingers, holding his gaze as he wet his lips.
When he retreated, the ropes holding her arms to the ceiling tightened, removing any last bit of circulation that remained. Pain lanced through her arms a moment before a small wave of pleasure rose to replace it. She swallowed hard at the idea of what was to come. She watched as the dagger reappeared in his hand again. Her breath hitched and tears clouded her vision as he pressed the tip on the outside of her right rib, just below her breast and dragged diagonally towards her navel. He repeated the action on the left and when her head lolled forward, she saw the V he had carved into her skin.
Her wails of pain turned into moans of pleasure as her body writhed and clenched in need. The more her mind recognized it as pain, the harder her body sought pleasure. One constantly gave way to the other, making her skin crawl and her fear rise exponentially.
If one drop of the pink potion was already taking effect this quickly, she could only imagine how fast it would bring her to her death. Especially if he made Draco use the Cruciatus on her again. That alone would be powerful enough to push her into an early grave.
Riddle was at her back again, pushing her hair forward until it covered her breasts. It was long enough that the ends brushed against the marks on her skin, making her weep with pleasure and pain. She felt the tip of the blade pressing between her shoulder blades; not breaking skin, but hard enough to send a message.
"My darling Bellatrix, gods rest her soul, was ahead of her time in carving what you are into your arm. What words should I carve onto your back?" he asked. "Any suggestions, Draco?"
Draco had pushed himself into a kneeling position, still leaning heavily against the armchair. He was seething, his chest heaving with anger. He said nothing. Instead, he turned his head and spat off to the side. Hermione saw the tint of pink that left his mouth and her heart skipped a beat.
"No matter," Riddle said from behind her, his tone slightly irate at Draco's disobedience. "Come here."
She watched as Draco struggled and wracked her brain trying to pinpoint what it was that gave Riddle such control over him. She wondered if he hadn't done something to him before they came into this room, if Riddle was just that powerful, or if it had something to do with the Dark Mark. He got to his feet and fought each step forward. Hermione's determination renewed; if he was that powerful, there was no way they could let him get the ancient magic tonight.
She sighed with relief as she felt the release of pressure as Riddle removed the blade from her skin. He came to stand in front of her as well, handing the blade to Draco, hilt first. "Carve whore into her back. Make it cover the length of her spine."
Blood streamed from Draco's nose as he fought the command. His eyes stayed locked on Riddle's as his grip tightened on the dagger hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Riddle's lips curved up in amusement, watching as Draco's torso pitched forward. If he kept fighting, Riddle's hold was going to crush him.
"Stop!"
Both men turned their heads to face her. Two pairs of grey eyes regarded her, one with amusement, the other filled with pain and sorrow. She focused on the latter.
"Stop fighting. Just do it."
Riddle's head tipped up, his face twisted in surprise, staring at her as if she was an entirely different person. He turned his body towards her, reaching up to wrap his fingers about her chin. "I can see why you're drawn to her, Draco. Not even past the warm up and she is already begging for it."
He tapped his fingers along her jaw for a second before letting his arm fall back to his side. He turned his back to them and moved until he was sitting back in the chair. He leaned back, propped one leg up, ankle over his knee. One arm rested over his thigh while the other rested on the arm of the chair, allowing him to prop his chin in his hand.
"Now, Draco."
Draco's hesitation was still there, but she saw the fight dim in his eyes as he began to move behind her. When he was out of sight, Hermione closed her eyes against the burn of her tears and tried to relax. They had trained for this. She could stand the pain. This was only temporary. Soon, Riddle would give her the antidote, the pain would stop, and it would only be a distant memory for both of them. Even if the carving remained, she would just find a way to get rid of it later.
She bit her lip and groaned in pain as the tip of the blade bit into the small of her back. She opened her eyes as she swallowed through the wave of pleasure, her gaze landing on Riddle. His eyes were dark with lust as they bore into hers and he wet his lips.
As Draco began to carve, she felt him trembling with each slice he made into her skin. She could feel blood as it wept down her skin in the wake of Draco carrying out his orders. She struggled against her binds and despite her best efforts to keep silent and strong, it got to her. The potion forced a vicious cycle of wails and moans, the sounds echoing through the room in an endless crescendo of pain and pleasure.
In a rare moment of clarity, she saw Riddle shift in the chair. Both feet were planted on the floor, his thighs apart from one another. His trousers were unfastened and slightly pushed away from his hips. He had one hand resting on the arm of the chair, the other stroking himself to the sight and sounds of her torture. His movements were leisurely, nothing that would get him off anytime soon. Another reminder that this was only the beginning. His eyes were full of fiery hunger as he continued to watch her. The intensity of his gaze setting her off in ways she couldn't fathom.
As the dagger fell away from her shoulder blades, she heard it clatter to the floor. As she sagged against her restraints, sobs flowing freely, she heard Draco retching behind her. Her heart beat was rapid in her chest and she failed to catch her breath. The pleasure had built, but with no outlet for release, only pain remained.
Riddle slowly stopped stroking himself and tucked his length back into his clothes. He stalked towards her, not bothering to refasten anything, his trousers barely staying up. He moved around her to admire Draco's work, letting out a hum of approval after a moment. She cried out as he pressed his hand against the top of her spine before running his hand down the length of her spine to the small of her back.
"You have done well, Draco."
When she opened her eyes, he was in front of her, his hand raised between them, her blood dripping down to the floor. His fingers curled around her chin again, but only for a moment before sliding down her throat. He continued to paint her, his hand gliding effortlessly down the center of her body thanks to her life's blood. He didn't stop as he reached the mound of flesh between her thighs.
She cried as he grabbed her cunt forcefully, his blood slicked fingers sliding through her folds. Two of which slipped into her body with no resistance whatsoever and he hummed in approval. "You really are quite stunning like this," he purred, crooking his fingers and quickening his pace. "Would you like to be put out of your misery?"
Hermione's lips parted on their own volition as the magic from the Veritaserum forced the truth to the surface. She gave a jerky nod of her head and a garbled moan escaped her. "Yes," she whispered, her voice nothing more than a croak. The moment the word rolled off her tongue, she felt sick; a feeling that only intensified with the satisfied smirk that crossed Riddle's face.
He withdrew his hand and brought it back up to her face. She winced as he cupped her jaw, her combined bodily fluids staining her skin wherever he touched. "Get her down," he ordered, turning away.
She heard shuffling behind her as Draco got to his feet. As gently as possible, he used his wand to make her binds disappear. The moment she was free she sagged, leaning so heavily on Draco from her limbs having gone numb that they staggered a bit. He said nothing to her when she cried out from his accidental contact with the fresh wound. His apology lie in his touch and in his eyes as he used his body to shield her, even if only for a moment, from Riddle's gaze.
"Come to me, Mudblood."
Draco tightened his hold on her for a moment before reluctantly letting her go. Legs still numb and pain too great, she stumbled to her knees right away, crying out when she landed on them. Draco made to reach for her, but she shook her head. She could stand whatever happened to her; she didn't need to see him get hurt. She dug down deep, trying to get the strength to pull herself up, but Riddle's voice stopped her.
"No need to get up," he said. She lifted her gaze to him, gritting her teeth at the contempt in his eyes. "Crawl."
Hermione's skin prickled with gooseflesh as her trembling lips curled into a sneer. Slowly, she lowered her hands to the ground and began to move, trying her best to ignore the shooting pains that flamed her body as she went. When she stopped, she sat back on her heels and peered up at him through her lashes, her hands in her lap as she kneaded them together to bring back feeling.
He leaned forward, his hand sinking into her hair, dirtying it with her own blood. She yelped from the force of his hold and stared up at the small gap between their faces. She could feel his even breaths on her face, mixing with her pants. "How does it feel, Miss Granger?" he asked. "To know that all your plans to kill me, everything Draco has done to betray me, was all for naught? That by the end of the night, you'll both be dead? That I will continue to do as I please and there will not be a damn thing anyone can do about it?"
"Someone will," she seethed. He tightened his hold and forced her head back, straining her throat from the angle. "It may be years from now, but everyone dies, Riddle. Even the gods." She winced as her body bowed in pain and pleasure. "And someday, so will you."
The corners of his lips twitched in displeasure as his eyes darkened in anger. "Mudbloods are no better than animals in my book." His gaze flickered past her to Draco, a smirk eradicating his frown. "It will give me immense pleasure to watch the one you love treat you accordingly." He raised his other hand, beckoning Draco forward. "This will be the last time he ever fucks you."
She swallowed hard and gave a hissing sigh as he released her. Pain made the blood in her veins woosh in her ears, drowning out all other noise for a moment. When it subsided and world righted itself, she felt Draco's hands on her, moving her back to a position on all fours. It left her facing Riddle who had resumed stroking himself. He reached out, knuckles grazing her jaw as Draco brushed himself through her folds.
Hermione's eyes went wide as Draco pushed forward, sinking into her with ease, filling her to the brim. She threw her head back, her hair moving over the slur on her spine, making her cry out. His grip on her hips tightened as he slid in and out of her at an agonizingly slow pace. She understood that he didn't want to hurt her, that he was trying to make this as painless as possible, but if she didn't get release soon, there would be no sacrifice for the later. The notion that, at any moment, all of their plans could truly be for nothing, ignited her determination.
She pushed her hips back against Draco, meeting him thrust for thrust. She felt his hesitation at first, his self-hatred rolling off of him in waves. Hermione couldn't let it take over him. She needed him to do whatever it was that got them through to the rest of their plans. She needed to do something worthy of the blue potion so she could heal.
She needed to come.
Her fingers curved against the ground, her nails breaking and bleeding as she begged for Draco to fuck her faster; harder. She felt the shift in him as he pushed down his feelings and let his own raw need take over. He palmed her ass, spreading her wider so he could hit deeper within her aching walls. He picked up his pace too, the resulting friction already pushing her towards the tipping point.
Just as she tossed her head back to scream his name with her release, Riddle fisted her hair again and forced her eyes up to his. When she came back down from the distant realm of pleasure Draco had sent her to, Riddle was kneeling in front of her, the chair at his back. She barely had time to catch her breath before he pushed his cock into her mouth and used his hand in her hair to dictate her movements.
As Draco's thrusts increased behind her, so did Riddle's before her. She put her energy and concentration on breathing through her nose, trying hard to tamper down on the panic of having something repeatedly rammed down her throat. She could feel another release building up and judging from the erratic movements from Draco, he was close as well.
Just as she heard his tell-tale groan of being nearly there, Riddle withdrew from her mouth and then she was moving. Everything happened so fast, that it wasn't until she groaned from being filled did she realize it was Riddle beneath her instead of Draco. They were in his chair with her straddling his lap. His hands were on her hips as he rocked his beneath her at a brutal pace. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders, fisting the fabric of the shirt he never even so much as unbuttoned.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tongue and teeth blazing a trail of fire up and down the column of her throat. He listed one hand to first her hair, angling her head back for better access. "Gods, you really are just the thing I needed for tonight," he murmured against her skin. "Such a shame I have to kill you later. What a prize you would have made; one I would have claimed every night."
Tears fell down her face, streaking the blood that had dried on her skin. There was still time to enact their plan. Still time to slay the monster beneath her. But with every thrust he made, every ripple of pleasure she experienced as a result, she regretted ever making this plan. If they made it out alive, she would let Draco tell her I told you so forever and never challenge him again.
"Just because you didn't come inside her, does not mean you are finished." It took her a moment to realize he was addressing Draco. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as he gave the next command. "You labeled her a whore. Time to treat her like one." He stilled his movements, forcing her to sink down until she was painfully full. His other hand rose to run up the length of her spine again, the pain causing her to yelp and squirm. "When you come, aim for the mark you left."
And then he was moving again. The coil inside of her snapped at the frenzy of his thrusts, of the way she bounced above him, hitting just the right angle to send her over the edge. It was the heated splash of Draco's release, like salt in the wound, that did it. As he groaned behind her, she clung to Riddle and reached for the stars.
Her cries of pleasure were cut short as Riddle shoved her from his lap and down to the floor. She landed at Draco's feet, her body twisted unnaturally. Still trembling and twitching from her release, she winced as Riddle added his to her back with Draco's.
"One drop of the blue potion," he ordered as he tucked himself away and cleaned himself up. Hermione watched as her blood disappeared from his skin without a trace. As if he had been an innocent bystander. Draco scrambled for the blue vial and, after some struggle, opened her mouth to accept a single drop, waiting for it to put her out of her misery. She swallowed it greedily, hoping it would act fast.
As she felt the pain and pleasure lessening from her body, she knew the potion was working. Slowly, she felt herself returning to normal as blue potion ended the torment of the pink and the clear took over and put her right back to the start. The only evidence that something had happened at all were the memories making her tremble and the drying blood and bodily fluids that littered her skin.
If her spine was still marred, she couldn't tell.
Hermione groaned as she felt herself being lifted. She assumed it had been Draco, but when she opened her eyes she found it was Riddle's magic. She moved until she was on her knees, leaning back on her heels again. She felt something slide around her ankles and gasped as her arms snapped together behind her back. When the same sensation wound around her wrists, she realized she was being bound together again. Tears welled from her eyes as another set of ropes slid around her legs, binding her calves to her thighs to ensure that she remained in her humiliating submissive position.
"Draco, if you would," Riddle spoke, his voice flat.
Hermione and Draco both looked at the item that appeared in his hand between them. It was a gag with the rubber bar in the center. Their gazes met and she saw the sorrow buried amongst the grey of his irises as he lifted it up. It settled against her lips and she opened her mouth to let it slide in between her teeth. She bent her head down slightly so he could cinch it over her hair behind her.
"Clean yourself up and wait for me in the hall," Riddle instructed, his eyes never leaving Hermione.
Panic surged through her as she watched Draco follow his orders. When the sound of the door closing behind him reached her ears, her fear doubled and she began to tremble. With the bar in her mouth, she wasn't able to swallow back her sobs. Riddle knelt before her, two fingers pressed under her chin to lift it up.
"We won't leave you too long, Miss Granger," he promised, the purr of his voice sending shivers down her freshly healed spine. "Upon our return, Draco will be punished for his betrayal."
Hermione blinked back more tears as confusion knit her brows.
Riddle chuckled and dragged his knuckles along her jaw. "This was just a warm up," he explained. "You will both be taught a lesson before the night is through. One that you can take with you into the afterlife." He withdrew his hand and got to his feet, smirking down at her. "Be back soon."
And then she was alone.