Hermione POV
I was lost in a dream that dissolved into a nightmare- a memory. I could feel the cold floor on my cheek, the searing pain slicing through my body. I knew that I was alone in my struggles. Harry and Ron were somewhere else. Bellatrix was focusing all her rage on me.
"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"
She waved the knife in the air before pointing it down towards me, her wand in the other hand. I forced myself to look away, across the room. I didn't want to see what would happen before it was felt.
"What else did you take, what else? Answer me! Crucio!"
Agony- hot and fiery licked across my organs, every inch of my skin felt like it was under a flame. The sensation in my bones was equal to that of when I had broken my wrist as a child, but everywhere. The pain coated me, seeped into every crevice of my being, and it was entirely inescapable. I screamed, screamed until my throat felt raw and my face felt wet through the flames on my cheeks. It went on forever, or at least it felt that way.
"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"
"We only met him tonight!" I screamed the words through fresh tears, unable to hold my tongue any longer. I could no longer keep quiet, but I could lie through my screams. "We've never been inside your vault…it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"
"A copy?" She screeched. "Oh, a likely story!"
I heard another voice, a man's voice, a not so familiar one.
"But we can find out easily!"
The pain in my body ceased in Bellatrix's distraction. She was looking at the owner of that voice- Lucius.
"Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"
Draco. Draco was there. I had forgotten who else had been in the room. My gaze locked on him. He wouldn't let me die, would he? He hadn't turned in Harry, maybe that meant he would save me. It was a stupid, childish thought that disappeared when he turned away.
He returned a moment later with Griphook in his hold, Bellatrix shoved her knife into Draco's hand as she took the goblin from him.
The nightmare-memory rushed forward, past Bellatrix's interrogation of the goblin, when her attention returned to me.
"What are you waiting for? Take care of the mudblood, Draco. You know the spell. Get her to tell me if that truly is Harry Potter in our cellar. Use the spell! Cut her if you must!"
He just stood there- frozen in place. Looking between me and the wand and the knife in his hand. Bellatrix's anger turned to something more. She walked over to where he stood and lifted her own wand to his neck.
"Do the fucking spell…now!" She screamed into his ear and he jumped, lifting his wand. "Now or I will end you, you snivelling little shit."
"Crucio!"
It hit me twice as hard, the fiery pain became a splitting sensation. I felt like I was being ripped in half. Bellatrix's wild laughter was the only sound I could hear as I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth so hard that I was shocked I didn't crack a tooth.
"Yes!" Her joy caused my eyes to fly open. I saw Draco jump again, his concentration broken. "The knife now. The knife…carve her skin. I want to see the filthy mudblood bleed."
She shoved Draco to the ground, towards me, before practically skipping over, dropping down to grab my arm and hold it in place. Draco placed a shaking knife to my forearm.
"Who is in my cellar, Mudblood? Is it him?" I shook my head and kicked my feet, trying to move myself away from the knife, from her hands holding me down. "Tell me!"
Harry. I thought of him, of my friend. I would endure anything for him, for what was good and right. I would die before I would betray him, betray everything he stood for.
Bellatrix replaced one of her hands with her knee, clutching onto Draco's arm. I felt the first slice into my arm and the pain was fiery and hot. Different from the crucio, but still so painful. It mixed with anger as I looked into Draco's flat gray eyes. There was no emotion on his face, no indication that he cared. It was something I had always know. Draco Malfoy didn't care about anyone, least of all me. I bet he hadn't turned in Harry simply because he didn't care if 'The Boy Who Lived' died or won. It was all beneath him- everything and everyone. I would kill him and her. If I was given half the opportunity, I would. When Bellatrix was sure Draco could work on his own she released his arm and pulled my hair so that I could see the word that she had begun to write and he was finishing.
Mudblood
He was the first one to call me that and I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of him carving it into my skin. Blood leaked out around the wound- bright and red, so red.
"What was that?" shouted Lucius, somewhere in the room. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"
I awoke with a scream, a scream that bounced off the stone in the small room and I felt everything. My scar burned, my face was soaked and I was…I was still dressed. I remembered then- where I was, what had happened in the astronomy tower, the pain in Draco's face, my anger, the magic I had felt at the words he had spoken.
"Then do it! Kill me! You can't hurt me anymore than I've hurt myself. Give me the sweet release that only death can if you've got the stomach for it. I didn't! I didn't have the balls for it, but you do, don't you? You're stronger than I could ever be."
It changed so very little- his apologies and his hurt. I stared at the word on my arm and winced. I was stronger, I was better. I would bring him to feel so much pain, extend it out as long as I was able. Every day he would regret ever being released from Azkaban. I was worse than any dementor, worse then his Auntie Bella, and I would prove it.