DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!!
a/n: I'm NOT lookin' forward to writing this chapter!!!
I'm back from Florida!! Lovely tan, stupid freckles, and JETLAG!!! the evil thing...
Kidnapped
Chapter 16
Hermione screamed and thrashed against Voldemort when they were back at the castle.
"Nooo." She cried and wept. "Ron! Sirius! Bill!"
"Calm down, Hermione." Voldemort ordered coldly. "They were nothing."
Hermione instantly stopped weeping and stood up straight. She turned in Voldemort's arms and gave him a deathly glare.
"How dare you?" she hissed, rivalling that of a Parslemouth(sp?). "They were like my family."
"Were' being the active word." Voldemort released her from his grip and walked over to his liquor cabinet. He poured himself a brandy, not bothering to offer her one - even though they both knew she could use one - and walked back over to her. "But you needn't worry. In a few hours, I will be your family, and you need only concern yourself with myself and our future children." He sipped his brandy with smugness and smirked at her disgusted look.
"I will never bear your children." She whispered to him as he downed the brandy. His head spun but he didn't let it show.
He just chuckled softly. Out of nowhere, he smashed the glass against her cheek! She screamed and clutched her bleeding cheek and attempted to pluck out the pieces of crystal from her wound. He threw the remnants of the glass into the fire, grabbed her arms and spun her around to face him. He did nothing for a few moments.
Voldemort pulled out his wand and Hermione looked away, expecting a Crucio or some sort of curse. But instead, she felt a tingling sensation of the crystal leaving her wound.
As she was about to say a word of thanks, the pieces of crystal dug themselves into her arms lightly and started to drag themselves down her limbs. She squealed against him and tried to get the fragments of crystal from out of her.
"Hermione, this is your punishment."
"For what?!" she cried as the crystal pieces started on her exposed back.
"Running." He let her go and turned away from her.
"I was rescued!" she screamed as she tried to reach her back.
"Same story, different versions. Both are true."
"Do you think I want to marry you?! The Dark Lord?!"
He turned back to her.
"You should be honoured! Honoured that I would choose you! A filthy Mudblood!"
She took no offence with his insult, for she had been called worse.
"You didn't 'choose' me. You're just doing what a prophecy told you to do!"
"Don't speak of what you do not know!" he roared at her. He banished the crystal pieces away and Hermione stopped trying to reach them. She breathed a silent sigh of relief, and then straightened up. They glared at each other for a moment, before he back-handed her. She crashed into the wall and gave a hard gasp of pain. She shuddered a moment later as his hand gently ran down her spine.
He chuckled at her body's response.
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Remember this: no matter what I do to you, you always succumb."
"Not always."
"True. There was the time when I revealed who you really are. But ever since then, every time I've intimately touched you, you've craved for more."
"Not every time." Hermione insisted, shaking her head.
"That is meaningless, anyway. An heir can be conceived even if one party is not willing."
"You're that desperate to get an heir?" she asked.
"I'm not desperate. But one would come in handy should I die."
"Hopefully that will be sooner rather than later." She murmured. He stormed over to her, grabbed her shoulders and pushed her harshly into the wall. Her head banged painfully against the stone, cutting her skin. Blood slowly seeped out of the wound and down her neck.
He spun her around and pinned her against the wall. His hands held her wrists to the stone and he lapped out the blood flowing down her neck. She groaned in disgust and he shot her around again.
"That is the minimal thing I am tempted to do to you, Hermione. I would watch your step." He threatened. She gulped silently as he dragged her to the foot of the bed. He pushed her onto the floor roughly, making her land with an 'oof' and then shackles came from nowhere, binding her hands to opposite ends of the bed.
"What's this?"
"I can't have you running off before the wedding tomorrow." He answered simply, needlessly checking the shackles were secure to the bed posts.
"So I'm just gonna sleep on the floor?"
"Of course not. We need you looking fresh in the morning. No, you will be sleeping in the bed, but chained to myself. These shackles are for another punishment."
"Like what?"
Voldemort sat down on the floor next to her and put his hand under the bed. A second later, he pulled out a covered tray. He picked up the tray, and pulled the cloth off. Knives. Small, sharp, clean knives.
Hermione looked from the tray and its instruments, back up to Voldemort's smirking face.
"Oh, Merlin, no." she whispered.
He merely smirked in response, setting the tray down and picked up one of the knives.
"Are you scared of knives, Hermione?"
"Right now, yes." She answered.
Voldemort twirled to knife between his fingers expertly, and gasped lightly when the blade cut him. He looked at the cut for a moment, before cast a healing charm on his finger.
"Hermione, before we start, I know you to know that: I don't enjoy hurting you. Not physically at least."
She scoffed. "Yeah, I bet."
"Truly. But when you go and run off, so soon before the wedding, it makes things a little complicated." He said, resting the flat side of the blade on her now exposed stomach. She gasped at the coldness of the metal, and shuddered when he moved it to the side of her ribcage.
"How complicated?" she whispered, the words escaping her.
Voldemort smirked and leant into her. "Very complicated." And he placed his lips on hers. She returned the kiss a little, and as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, she screamed. He was running the blade along the side of her ribs. He pulled away, glaring at her as she screamed and tried to get away, but he merely pressed harder.
"Stop whining, girl!" he commanded harshly. He lifted the blooded knife and cut an 'L' on her right breast, and then a 'V' on her left. "There you go." He said. "Now, you really are mine."
She shrieked as he ran the blade down the right side of her chin, and groaned in disgust as he started to lick of the blood running out.
----------
After an hour of cutting up his soon-to-be-bride, Voldemort got bored and unchained the severely bleeding Hermione. He cast a healing spell on her and then a 'scourgify', but she was still covered with marks of the knives.
"Yes, I didn't tell you that." He answered when she asked. "Those knives are cursed. They're Branding Knives. Needless to explain what they do."
Hermione was too exhausted from screaming to scream at him again, so she merely flopped in his arms. He carried her over to their bed - THEIR bed!! - and pulled back the covers. Seeing as she had been topless when he was cutting into her and her shoes were by the door, he just put the covers back over her. he removed his shoes, robes and shirt before climbing into the other side. Before Voldemort turned the light out, he picked up his wand and a small set of shackles connected their wrists. Satisfied with them, he put his wand under his pillow, as was his habit, and turned the light out.