A Simply Horrible Summer
Chapter three:
Hermione lied in her dark cell, trying to not doze off so she wouldn't be taken by surprise. A million scenarios played in her mind, each more daring and foolish than the last. When someone came she could take his wand, she could knock him over, she could run if he tried to carry her, she could kill whoever tried to touch her; the list went on and on.
Finally, Hermione succumbed to sleep when she was sure no one was coming for her that night. She wasn't able to sleep for very long, though, before she heard someone walking toward her cell. The figure stopped in front of the bars. Hermione could almost feel the sneer that was surely playing on the Death Eaters lips. She stared at him wide eyed, trying to discern the face so she could tell who it was.
The man opened the door to the cell and stepped inside. Hermione quickly stood up, not wanting to be in a bad position, and stood her ground. The man advanced nearer but still Hermione stood, not moving, not wanting him to see her fear.
"What a pity you're a stupid little mudblood," the man said. "You could have been quite pretty otherwise."
"I wouldn't want to be a cowardly pureblood groveling in front of a man that has less pure blood than I would, anyway," Hermione said to the man. His hand suddenly came out of nowhere and hit her in the side of the face. Hermione gasped at the contact, her cheek starting to throb.
"Do not talk about my lord with such a filthy mouth. It will only serve to make your punishment that much more unbearable." The man sneered again. "Which is exactly what I came down here for." He then grabbed her arms and started dragging her away from the dungeons. Hermione kicked and screamed, trying to throw the man off of her, but to no avail. He was much stronger than she was and she hadn't eaten all day.
The chamber to which the man had led her was horrible. Many devices for torture glittered on the walls and the whole room smelt of blood. Hermione grimaced the moment she stepped in, hoping to block out the smell a little by wrinkling her nose.
The man dragged her to the middle of the chamber where chains were hanging from the ceiling. He quickly cuffed her to the chains and let her go. Hermione fell to her knees when her legs wouldn't support her.
"Look at the little mudblood now. Not so high and mighty, are we? Not when I could kill you right here and now." Hermione looked up at the man as he talked and finally recognized who he was when she caught a glimpse of silvery-blonde hair. It was none other than Lucius Malfoy.
"Recognize me, do you? I can see the fear in your eyes. You know I am no ordinary Death Eater. I could make your life more of a living hell than it already is." With those words he laughed, but it wasn't a laugh that meant you could enjoy anything. It was a laugh that would send cold shivers down the back of almost anyone, a laugh that would make children cry and send the elderly into an instant death. Hermione didn't like the sound of the laugh at all, for it didn't bode well for you when your torturer was laughing like a mad man. Lucius stopped laughing, but there was still a maniacal glint in his eyes.
"What method should I use first?" he asked out loud as he slowly walked around her. "Oh, I know. I'll start out with a simple Crucio!" Hermione shrieked as the spell hit her, making her writhe on the ground in pain. Tears came into her eyes as she thought her vocal cords would explode. Again she saw her parents, hanging from the fan in their bedroom. She cried out louder, unable to take the pain much longer, and then, it stopped.
Hermione lie on the cold stone, thankful to whatever gods had stopped the curse. She panted, trying to regain her breath as she opened her eyes to look at Lucius. He stood above her, smirking at her obvious pain.
"Are you ready to talk yet? Are you ready to divulge the information we need so you won't have to go through that again?" Lucius asked, bending down so his face was right next to hers.
"Never," Hermione croaked, her voice sore and gruff from all the screaming.
"Very well," Lucius said. "There are certainly many more painful ways to get what we want." He walked over to the wall and examined a steel-edged whip. "This should do nicely," he murmured as he took the whip off the wall. He pointed his wand at the chains so they were short enough to keep her in a kneeling position. He then pointed his wand at her shirt, which disappeared.
"We wouldn't want anything to damage this lovely shirt now would we?" He cackled again. Hermione shivered from the cold and the sound of his voice. Lucius walked behind her with the whip in his hand.
"I assure you, this is going to hurt you a lot more than it's going to her me," he said, and he swung the whip.
Hermione screamed as the steel lashed across her back, deeply cutting open the smooth skin. Hot liquid trickled down, staining the tops of her jeans red. Lucius stood there, enjoying hearing her whimper as the cut stung and throbbed.
"If you don't tell me the password now, there will be much more where that came from." Lucius laughed again, chilling her bones.
"I refuse to tell you. I would rather die than give you any information." Hermione could tell she was getting on Lucius's nerves. He angrily said, "Fine!" and lashed her again. The whip swung at her back so many times that soon she didn't know if he was still hitting her because it had gone numb. Every few lashes he would pause and ask her the same question, and every time she gave him the same answer. It was apparent that this means of torture would not work, so Lucius stopped.
"It looks like this isn't working. Oh well, I will simply have to find a different way of making you talk." He walked over to a large case. "Perhaps this will persuade those lips of yours into speech," and he dragged the case in front of her. Hermione looked at it quizzically. Surely something extremely dangerous wouldn't be kept in an open room like this. But Hermione didn't realize that sometimes the most dangerous things were the ones we over look the most.