Hermione Granger screamed in agony as the Cruciatus Curse hit her once more. The mad witch Bellatrix Lestrange danced around her with a look of glee in her eyes. Ever since they had been brought to Malfoy Manor — and Hermione no longer had any idea of when that was; it could have been hours or days, so bad was her situation — she had been in the clutches of the mad woman whose only intention appeared to be to cause her as much pain as possible.

She didn't think she could take much more. The pain was never-ending now. Even when the curse was removed her body continued to shake and contract as the muscles continued to react to the spell. Dimly, her mind turned to Neville's parents, themselves cursed by the same witch. They had gone mad. Surely it was only a matter of time before she joined them.

Her breath came in gasps as the latest curse was removed and she rolled around the floor, tears of pain and despair streaming down her face in a torrent. Moaning quietly, she tried to open her eyes and look around. There was no chance of her escaping alone, but if Harry and Ron managed to find some way to help her then she needed to be ready.

A laugh cut through her thoughts, pulling her back into the room. Standing over her with a smug look on his face was Lucius Malfoy. It was he who had laughed.

'Having fun, Bella?' he asked in amusement. 'What are you doing to her? Oh, the Cruciatus Curse. Very stylish.'

Hermione gazed up at Lucius balefully, knowing her eyes were full of tears that she would rather he didn't see. But she couldn't stop them. Couldn't summon up the co-ordination to wipe them away, and couldn't say anything to try to appeal to him to stop the pain.

'I know she's only a Mudblood, and Merlin knows I agree with what you're doing but are you actually managing to get any information out of her?' Lucius asked thoughtfully. 'After all, I'm not sure the Dark Lord would be overly happy if she died or went mad without revealing anything at all.'

Bellatrix made a sound of annoyance as she trained her wand on Hermione once more. 'She'll talk,' she said. 'She just needs a little more convincing to open her mouth. Crucio!'

Hermione screamed as her body contorted once again. The pain really was on the verge of closing down her mind now. As if from a distance she felt the spell end and she grunted loudly as she collapsed face-down on the floor. The tears were still falling even though her eyes were closed now, and her nose was running.

Movement, apart from the involuntary twitching, was almost impossible and she wondered vaguely if she could even still speak. Certainly, she couldn't imagine words tripping effortlessly off her tongue. Surely if Lucius really wanted to get information from her he would stop Bellatrix from continuing.

'I think you should stop now,' Lucius said; as if reading Hermione's mind.

He looked down at the broken witch on the floor with a grim smile on his face then bent down to grab Hermione's hair and turned her over onto her back. The blond man stared at her critically, a small moue of disgust crossing his face at the sight of the tears and the snot.

'I'm not sure she's in any fit state to talk, and if you continue she's going to end up like the Longbottoms.' Bellatrix looked unhappy at Lucius' words, but the wizard was adamant. 'Later, Bella,' he said coolly. 'At least give her a chance to recover a little, and then we'll see how eager she is to talk.'

'And if she won't?' Bellatrix asked, her wand still twitching towards Hermione.

Lucius ignored her, turning to his son who had been watching the action silently. 'See how pathetic the Mudblood is?' Lucius told Draco smugly. 'Where's her so-called magic now? Don't you feel stupid for having been worried about her for all these years? I told you, these filthy Mudbloods are no match for real wizards.'

Hermione groaned, her eyes now focussing on the younger man. Pale and stressed-looking, he didn't seem to be happy to be there. Hermione forced her brain to think. Was there any chance Draco wasn't as into this torture as Lucius thought? Was it possible that he might harbour even the slightest sympathy for her and her predicament? As she continued to look at him she saw the sly smirk that had so often graced his features at school cross his face. No. Whatever he may have been thinking, sympathy for her wasn't it.

'Have you had enough, Mudblood?' Lucius asked. His voice sounded a little less harsh. 'Are you going to talk to us, or shall I get Bella to loosen your tongue some more?'

Hermione gave the tiniest whimper; talking really was too hard. But panic that Lucius might once more give her to Bellatrix made her try.

'Please . . .' she croaked, her voice so low it almost disappeared in the stillness of the room.

'She won't talk,' Bellatrix predicted confidently. 'You might as well let me at her again. I tell you, another few bursts and she'll be ready to do whatever we want.'

But Lucius had heard Hermione's attempt at speech and silenced Bellatrix once more with a sharp wave of his hand. 'Leave us,' he told her. She opened her mouth as if to say something and Lucius glared at her angrily. 'I said, leave us, Bella. You've done enough here for the time being.'

Looking sullen, the witch turned and stalked towards the door, clearly upset at being dismissed. Draco turned to follow.

'Not you, Draco,' Lucius said equally coldly. 'You can stay here. It'll be an education for you.'

Lucius pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket and threw it onto Hermione's face.

'Clean yourself up,' he said with disdain. 'You're a mess and I refuse to talk to you in this state.'

Hermione tried to get her arm to move, to get the handkerchief off her face, to clean herself, but she was still shaking too much. Although her mind was protesting she tried to focus, tried to break through the pain. Eventually, she managed to grip the handkerchief with the tips of her fingers. After what seemed like an eternity, she succeeded in scrubbing at her face with the cloth before discarding it.

Lucius stared at her with undisguised hatred. 'Unfortunately, dear Bella has been a little over-zealous with her questioning of you, I can see that. But I'm sure you're eager to talk — once your voice has returned.' He turned to Draco. 'Get her up and follow me.'

Draco grabbed Hermione's hair and one of her arms and awkwardly pulled her up from the floor. Hermione moaned in pain but didn't resist. She couldn't; she was still having too much trouble trying to keep her body under control to fight against Draco. Not at all worried about any damage he might be causing to her, Draco dragged her across the room and out of the door behind his father.

After a few minutes, they reached another room containing only a mouldering old mattress and a sheet: a makeshift bed for the prisoner. Draco dropped Hermione just inside the door. She lay there for a moment, still fighting the pain that was coursing through her, before attempting to pull herself up and drag her useless body towards the mattress.

Lucius and Draco watched her silently for a few minutes, Lucius attempting to assess the damage Bellatrix had caused.

'I think you'll survive, Mudblood,' he said eventually, 'at least for the time being. I can be generous when the mood takes me so I'll give you chance to recover before I question you further.' He turned on his heel and walked out of the door. 'Come, Draco, leave the Mudblood alone.'

Draco followed him. The door slammed shut, leaving Hermione alone.

Overwhelmed by the ordeal she had just suffered at the hands of the Death Eaters, Hermione sobbed, amazed to hear the sound of her voice, something she had thought was gone forever. For a long time, she lay there, the tears falling, her pain and grief erupting in a never-ending stream of sobs as she waited for her body to begin the slow process of recovery.

Several hours later, now silent and no longer shaking — or at least not so much — Hermione finally crawled slowly and painfully across the floor to the makeshift bed. She sank gratefully onto the soft mattress, the cotton material cool against her cheek. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, willing her body to allow her this escape so it could repair itself.

She had no idea when Lucius would be back, but she needed to prepare herself mentally even if she couldn't prepare herself physically, and to do that she needed the pain to recede. Sleep would help to remove the fatigue she was feeling from fighting the effects of the curse for so long.

Her last thought before dropping off to sleep was of Ron and Harry. How would they ever find her, tucked away in some unknown room far away from the main living area of the manor?