Extended A/N: I just wanted to say a few things before I begin; apologies for the previous chapter. Technically Bellatrix threw a hex at Hermione, not a curse. I'll fix this once my internet's back up [I may use a library but currently I'm using my mobile 3G and a personal hot spot to upload chapters] and I have time to fiddle with things.
I just wanted to point out that I do now know the differences between Spells, Charms, Jinxes, Hexes and Curses now, thanks to A Muggle's Guide to Harry Potter. I'm misusing it greatly currently ;)
Thank you to the Guest who told me that I should write more, both more words and dialogue. I've tried harder with this chapter. Three-thousand words is usually how long I write, but I normally just allow the chapter to take it's natural course. I don't usually like to break in the middle of a chapter unless to switch from one, third point of view to another (as I don't really much like omnipotent point of view and much prefer to stick with the common 'third') but I do sometimes make the odd exception.
Also to another guest (not sure why you're all 'guests' I assume the website's changed its settings recently) that asked for porn - soon. I promise you it will happen, but not for a bit. I'm not sure how far in I'll be first, but it'll be somewhat far in and I can't promise it'll be good; I will read a lot on the kinkmemes to...ah...learn first though ;)
This chapter probably shares more than I like with similarities to the Legend of the Seeker episode Denna but no matter how hard I tried to picture something else, the scene kept pulling me back there.
Anyway, ignore me prattling on. I hope you enjoy and I hope it's long enough.
2.
Striking
Hermione felt the chill in her bones. The cold ate through her clothes and left her shivering, but not even that or Hogwart's snow prepared her for this chill.
With a yelp, she'd slammed back into the bars before Bellatrix's amused laugh rolled through the cage and down to Hermione's ears. "Oh, you are quite amusing," the dark witch taunted. "All riled up because of little old me." She laughed again, low and softer than before.
Hermione shivered, staring into the black depths of her eyes as she struggled to find words. An idea had crept into her mind: if she could just distract the woman long enough, then perhaps there'd be less torture or a moment would rise when she could-
"Oh no, no-no no little one," Bellatrix's thin fingers wrapped around the bars as she pressed her body taut against the cage. Her breasts heaved through the corset at how tightly they were pushed against the metal. "You're mine. You'll speak when I tell you to. You'll answer when I ask and you will be played with."
Hermione could feel her heart against her ribs as she pressed further away, hoping that she could just slide through the bars. She needed to practice occlumency and block the dark witch from her thoughts. She needed to get out.
Bellatrix smiled down at her, sharp teeth grinning pleased at something. Hermione's skin rippled with fear as she stared into the dark eyes. Slowly, the dark witch pulled back from the bars and toyed with her wand in grip, "We're going to start your training today. You will learn to be an obedient pet by the end of this month," she informed her.
"I'm not an animal!" Hermione bit back. Her fingers clenched, digging sharply into her own skin to keep from crying. She couldn't, wouldn't given the sadist her satisfaction.
"I disagree, mudblood. Crucio."
Hermione's head was thrown back into the bars violently, her body writhing beneath the curse as a scream poured from her lips. She didn't have time to hold her cries back and thickly, tears spilled down her face. The curse lifted and she slumped, shivering in fear as she recoiled. Her feet grazed the stone loudly in the movement.
"Pet's do not speak out of turn," Bellatrix informed her haughtily. "They learn to keep quiet unless commanded." Hermione pulled her knees to her chest. The torture had been seconds, seconds and she was already a mess. Her promises to keep quiet, to not let Bellatrix have the satisfaction of her sadistic desire were squashed by the curse.
"I'm sorry," spilled from her sincerely. Bellatrix paused before she cocked her head to one side and eyed Hermione oddly.
"Sorry?" she echoed.
"Yes," Hermione pleaded, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please, I'm so sorry," she choked out, sobbing freely. Her body shook, terrified the curse would be thrown again.
It wasn't. Bellatrix was smiling at her, "You don't want to get hurt anymore, is that why you're sorry?"
"Yes!" Too late she saw her mistake as the smile flickered to disdain. She cried out in a beg before the curse was thrown again, then another and another. Her scream pierced the wall as she arched and fell, deforming her body's angles as she tried anything, anything to make it go away. Just as another cry burst through her lungs, stripping her vocal cords, the curse left her body.
Hermione remained twitching on the ground, hiding beneath her arms as she quietly sobbed. There was a sound of heels clicking, a small light of a spell but nothing struck Hermione as she whimpered at the bright light.
Curled up, there was nothing until the quiet rustling of material near by. Hermione gasped and recoiled only to slam back into the bars. Bellatrix had charmed the bars to briefly step through them. Now, she crouched down low in front of Hermione who shrunk as far back from the hand as she could.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes and grabbed the young witch's chin, holding her in place. "I won't hurt you now," she told her, "not unless you give me a reason."
Hermione opened her mouth before she noticed the dark eyebrow arch. Instantly she shut her jaw firmly.
"Good girl, you're learning." She paused, studying Hermione's features. Hermione stared into the dark eyes, catching glimpses of another color (A grey? A brown?) before the woman blinked and pulled her head back away from the young witch. She then brushed the tears from under Hermione's hazel eyes with her thumb. It was carelessly done, as she was more annoyed at the falling tears then trying to comfort the woman, but Hermione found her lips parting wordlessly with a question.
"The old fool is dead," Bellatrix informed her tediously as she ran her eyes down the bars. Hermione blinked before horror slipped over her features. It took more than a pause to mask her features, but it was enough.
"Who did it?" Hermione asked without thought. Fear slid over her once the question was spoken. She expected a wand to be raised, even a slap, but Bellatrix was occupying herself with her nails. Appeatring excessively bored with the conversation.
"Snape, apparently," she muttered, disgusted at the idea that he had been the one, "Draco was intended to, but he has too much of his father's spine. A pity, he had such potential with Black blood." Idly, she looked back up and pulled at one of Hermione's curls, "You're filthy," she commented blankly.
Hermione didn't know how to reply. She wasn't even sure if Bellatrix meant it literally or was again, referring to her 'blood.' Her lips pressed tightly together as Bellatrix rubbed her fingers together to rid of whatever dirt, grime or oil she'd picked up from the young witch's hair.
"Tell me mudblood, how much does it hurt to know that your dearest Dumbledore is dead?" It was maliciously said. She wanted Hermione to cry out, weep or fight her. Deny that Dumbledore could truly be dead. She didn't.
Because Hermione didn't believe her, couldn't. How could Snape, no matter how talented he was, just kill Dumbledore? Professor Dumbledore was intelligent, the most powerful wizard only matched by Voldemort! It was absurd to believe that anyone less than Voldemort could kill the man. So she didn't react, she instead kept her face passive and stared into Bellatrix's eyes, fighting the fear that slid down her spine as she whispered, "I never liked him."
Bellatrix almost fell back, roaring with laughter. "No, I don't suppose you did," she mocked, her voice going higher. Cocking her head, raven curls slid over her features, accentuating the dark witch's striking features. Beautiful wasn't the word to describe her, Hermione believed, beautiful was delicate and strong as the same time. A rose was beautiful. A quiet beach was beautiful. Bellatrix - god even her name suited her so well - was striking.
"Where's your head, mudblood?" Bellatrix asked. "You're not here."
No, she wasn't. "I was...thinking," she admitted. There was no point lying, the dark witch would rip into her thoughts without a care if she wanted to.
"Thinking are we? I don't remember giving you permission to think."
Hermione's breath hitched, "But you can't stop a person from thinking!" she said, "thinking is- it's- you can't!" Words escaped her, her mind to clouded to possess the necessary articulation for a well-constructed argument, but she tried desperately to push her emotions across. Bellatrix laughed at her again.
God, how she hated that laugh.
"I can do what I want with you. You're mine." Hermione didn't reply. Her cheeks heated furiously with the need to prove the older witch wrong, but she controlled her tongue. "What were you thinking about, hmm? Perhaps then I won't be so...demanding with your abilities." Hermione didn't miss the subtle insult.
"I was thinking about you," she replied. Her voice betrayed her, coming off riled instead of a more controlled calm.
Bellatrix didn't seem to notice. Instead she remained in her crouch looking mildly surprised at the young witch. "Me?" she said, almost pleased. "Was it naughty?"
Hermione blinked. Was that a euphemism? "No!" she flushed exasperatedly.
Bellatrix smirked, "I didn't mean it like that, but I'll allow those thoughts in your head. That's all you'll be having from me." Again Hermione was at a loss to the double entendre. "Out with it!" she snapped at Hermione's silence. "What were you thinking if it wasn't that?"
Now Hermione blushed, "I...you," she tried. Slowly she took a breath, "You're not...I mean you are but-" Bellatrix's eyes bore into her own and Hermione went silent. She'd lost her words again and made more of a fool of herself than anything else. Slowly she took a breath, cleared her head and tried again, "You're not beautiful in the conventional sense, like a rose or a sunset. You're too powerful, too…imposing. The word beautiful didn't seem appropriate but striking did. You're like a storm or..." a large cat. A panther?
Bellatrix didn't blink, for a moment she just stared. "You talk too much." She pulled out her wand from her dress and Hermione flinched back, but the curse was quick. Only a short scream pulled from her mouth before she fell to the ground. "And here I thought you were learning. I guess you're muddy blood makes it difficult to acquire new tricks, hmm?"
Hermione curled back into the ball. How had she allowed her self to feel a sense of some safety as she spoke? She'd been stupid to prattle on about her need to find a word that suited Bellatrix; she'd only done it because the witch hadn't cursed her in the speech before, she'd allowed Hermione to speak and even invited her to converse. She should have known it was a trap.
Hermione pulled away, shutting first her eyes and then her mind as she drew back to the false-safety of her corner. Her body twitched, pins and needles running over her body like a fine air of static electricity crackled around her.
She heard Bellatrix rise and lean against the bars, but Hermione didn't see the witch's eyes wandering over her timid form. "It's pathetic," the woman muttered. "Trying to hide from me. I haven't even begun training you. Not really; all this is just a...taste of what will happen soon. I've even been going easy on you."
Hermione's stomach dropped. Her breath quickened until she was almost panting, pulling back as far as she could into the bars. The pain of her skull trying to squeeze through the bars was nothing compared to the torment that coiled too tightly in her chest. She couldn't breathe, her head was shaking violently, impossibly as she cried, muttering and refusing what she'd heard. "No!" she screamed out, "No, I can't. I can't, no."
Hands ripped her onto her feet and grabbed her hair. Her neck was pulled back and was left staring into the dark witch's scrutinizing expression as she gripped at the arm holding her.
"Let me go!" she demanded, screaming the words louder and louder until nothing but high pitched shrieks came out. Something had snapped in her. The idea of more torture, more pain temporarily broke the thin veil of sanity. She screamed at Bellatrix, clawing hopelessly at the woman, her legs kicking, reaching for anything.
Bellatrix slammed her head into the wall and Hermione fell limp as pain exploded. Dizzily she rolled her eyes up before the blackness drowned her.
When her eyes reopened, there was stone in front of her. The entire wall looked like sandstone, but her eyes fixated on the window almost immediately. The sun seemed to be setting, it's golden glow situated warmly on her body. For the first time, Hermione was warm in a long while.
She took a breath and then the panic settled in. Her hands clinked with the sharp sounds of metal on her wrist. She looked up to see herself suspended from a beam, then down to see herself a few feet high of the ground.
"Are you thirsty?" Bellatrix's voice asked. Slowly the woman stepped forward, her heels clicking. In her fingers she held her wand almost lazily.
"What do you want from me?" Hermione sobbed instead of answering. She'd given up trying not to cry, it didn't make a difference. There was no point trying to fool herself into believing she was stronger.
The curse flew without verbal warning onto her bare stomach. Only after the cries and the quick release, did she notice the lack of her robes. Bellatrix had left her in pants and a bra, but it was clear she wanted skin exposed to the upcoming hexes and curses. "I won't ask again," the dark witch warn, her eyes stepping close enough that she could breathe into Hermione's ear. "Are. You. Thirsty?"
"No," Hermione whimpered. Then again as the wand was placed down a knife revealed, "no please, please. I'll do anything, anything," she cried.
The knife pressed against her throat, lifting her head to meet Bellatrix's eyes. "But why would I allow that when I can break you and you'll do anything for me then?" she asked. Hermione's breath hitched as she tried and failed to control herself.
"W-what?" she asked.
"You'll be mine," Bellatrix told her. "Mind, body and soul. Soon your only thought will be how can I please my Mistress?" The chains rattled as Hermione faulted, her body violently shaking.
"No," she whispered. Then again, stronger, "No, I wont."
Bellatrix back handed her. Her head snapped from the strike. Tears stung her eyes and slowly she shook again, quietly sobbing to her self. She could feel the sting from the cut on her lip, she could even smell the blood, but she couldn't taste it. She didn't want to either.
Her eyes shut and she rolled her head down wearily, "I want to go home," she whispered, "I'll never do magic again. I'll be a muggle, I'll stay away from Hogwarts-"
The knife came fast and cut down her body in a single strike. Hermione cried out and gasped. Hotly, she felt the blood pool down her body. It was a superficial wound, inflicting more pain then harm. Her eyes met Bellatrix's and she shrunk as much as she could from the witch. The woman's hand eagerly reached out and warmly pressed against her stomach. It could have been considered tender if the dark witch hadn't then lifted the hand and traced the cut on Hermione's lip.
"Does it hurt?" Bellatrix asked softly.
"Y-yes," she managed.
"Do you want it to stop?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it hurts," Hermione's chest heaved in great breaths. She didn't twitch like she did after the spell, but she flinched as fingers ran over the cuts.
"This," Bellatrix gestured over Hermione's body, "is nothing. This is muggle torture." She ran her knife down from the peak of Hermione's ribs until she reached the naval of the young, shaking witch. "This is nothing compared to what I can do," she hissed. "I can break your bones until they're nothing but powder and re-grow them until your screaming. I can remove your eyes and make you blindly walk through fire, I can reach into your mind and pull out your darkest secrets and torture you with truths you bury deep within. I can even, if I wished, make you kill your friends with a simple curse."
"Why?" Hermione cried out, "I don't understand, I don't...I don't..."
Bellatrix laughed, long and low. "You don't have to understand yet," she told her. "If you the 'brains' of the 'golden trio' can't figure it out, what chance do the others have?"
"The Order," Hermione managed, finding something to cling her hope onto, "the Order will find me."
"Maybe one day they will." Bellatrix pulled back and ran her eyes approvingly over the single gash before she walked around, "By now the entire school knows that the fool is dead and you've been taken. They'll blame the other Death Eaters first, because what would I want with you?" she taunted. Hermione shuddered as the fingers ran along her back, "They'll listen for any sign of you, hope that something will be spilled mentioning you in passing, but really, do you think they'll find you here?" she asked.
She gasped as suddenly the knife ran down her spine, splitting the first, very fine layer of skin. So easy she could be paralyzed if the knife was thrusted into a vertebrae. Bellatrix could crush it with magic if she wanted to. Elongate it so it broke through her skull or pierced through muscle and skin. She was completely helpless.
"They'll find you," Hermione affirmed. "They'll come here and they'll find you, and then you'll be taken back to Azkaban and you'll rot in there," she spat out in a craze of boldness.
There wasn't a knife this time, or bare hands. She felt herself go still as the wand pressed against the small of her back before Bellatrix pushed herself against Hermione. The young witch didn't seen the contorted fury on the woman's face that pressed up against her from behind. She couldn't see how her eyes blazed furiously and her lips pulled back in an inhuman snarl as she struggled then lost her control over herself.
Too late she feel the jab of the wand twist painfully into her back and hear Bellatrix hiss so coldly, so spitefully and so devoid of any remorse that even Hermione couldn't hear anything human within her voice: "crucio."
It was different, this time. It went on longer. Her own screams became raw, animalistic and then even they became silent long before she finally passed out. But the echoes remained. She could hear her screams in her head, feel Bellatrix's body pressed tight against her, holding her thrashed still in the darkness. There was no laughs, no pleasure in this. She'd crossed a line and she was paying for it.
Even in the darkness she wasn't safe, but somehow something held her sanity. Someone crept into her mind and managed to piece the shattered parts of the stability back together.
I'm just a child, she wanted to say to them. I can't survive this.
Her mind sunk. It was cold in the darkness as she was submerged deeper and deeper still until she was drowning in it. Only under the black waters did a hand reach down, grip her arm and pull her free until she could gasp for a breath.
Hermione's eyes flew open and she coughed and spluttered before dropping back onto the warm stone floor. Tiredly she saw Bellatrix kneeling down beside her.
"Did I...did I die?" Hermione asked, her voice horse.
"In a way. I brought you back."
Hermione shut her eyes and managed to whisper, "Thank you." Bellatrix paused and studied her. The girl's endurance was at an end but Bellatrix wasn't done with her, not now.
"You need to stand," she told the young witch. Hermione sat up, feeling bandages around her waist tug. She looked down at them curiously before back up to Bellatrix. The woman didn't reply. "Up," she commanded instead. Hermione rose shakily onto her knees, stumbling slightly before gaining footing. Only then did she allow some pride within herself for managing such a task. Bellatrix kicked her suddenly, pushing Hermione onto her hands and knees.
Hermione didn't glare. Her eyes found Bellatrix's feet and locked on there as she focused on breathing. She couldn't fight the pain from her mind. She just had to focus on something strong enough.
"Up."
Hermione tried again, the kick was swift and she found herself glaring at the floor, focusing on how it felt as friction burnt the heel of her hands.
"Up."
She was quicker, but so was the kick. She prepared herself this time and didn't fall but another came and she rolled, sprawled out looking up at the ceiling with Bellatrix's face looming down at her.
"Pathetic," the woman said. "You can't even stand up."
Hermione sat up, glaring as she crawled back. The witch stepped forward. Hermione continued to crawl back, eyes glaring holes into the woman until she hit the wall. A sharply heeled boot pinned her there.
"Did I tell you to move, to crawl away?" Bellatrix asked spitefully, pushing her foot deeper into Hermione's chest. "You're not obeying me, mudblood."
Hermione grabbed her leg at the derogatory term, digging her nails into it through the black skirts. She couldn't speak. The words weren't there, nothing was there in her head but anger. Pure, blinding anger. She wanted to scream you tried to kill me! But it was all she could do to keep the nails digging harder through the materials of the skirts Bellatrix wore, just as the heel of the shoe pressed tighter against her chest until it pressed too strongly for her to breath.
"We can keep playing this game until you pass out," Bellatrix began, "or you can let go of my leg." Hermione glared, resiliently. Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix pulled out her wand and with a flick, Hermione went slack the moment the curse hit her. "You're deplorable," she muttered, pulling her leg from the loosened grasp, Bellatrix again flicked her wand as she took a step back and sighed down at the young witch's confused expression, "If you continue to pass out you'll permanently damage yourself."
"You're killing me!" she whimpered, "I'll die, I'll die and-"
"And what," she mocked, hands on her hip as she lent forward, "you'll be dead. Wether you survive this or not doesn't matter, mudblood. It's an experiment. Either way, I win." Hermione's eyes blazed up at her, but Bellatrix had turned away. Her black curls slipped over her shoulder in the sharp movement. "We've pushed today as far as we can go, it's obvious you're too weak to try anything else," she said with thought. "Tomorrow we'll try again."
Hermione's heart rate climbed at the thought of doing this again tomorrow, then the next day and on until she became nothing more than a whimpering pet. Already she was a whimpering mess until primal instinct broke through and she lashed out.
Because hat's all she had now, they were her two emotions: wrath and sorrow. She'd lost all happiness, all faith in the Order. It was only a shred of hope that something, that a moment would appear and all would return to normal.
"Why do you hate me?" Hermione asked, surprising both of them with the words.
Bellatrix looked curiously down at Hermione, "I don't hate you. You disgust me and I find you unworthy, but I have no reason to hate you," she told her. "Hatred stems from fear and anger. You hate me, but I can't hate you. I'm not afraid of you. If anything, you intrigue me."
"I...intrigue you?" she was doing it again. Speaking out of turn. Any second, Bellatrix would raise the wand and strike her down. But she didn't.
"Your sanity is intact. That should not have happened. After I lost control over myself, I expected all the hard work I've done to be gone with a flicker, but it's not. If anything, you're resilience proves just how odd you are." Odd. That was the most to a compliment that she'd ever receive from Bellatrix, she was sure of it.
A pause held over them. Bellatrix didn't speak and Hermione didn't reply. They both waited, studying each other. Hermione could feel her head pouring with questions, all of which she understood would cross some line, so she didn't dare speak them.
She was aware of what happened before, she felt with every fibre of her being, Bellatrix snap and attempt to destroy her, and yet...she was here. She shouldn't be, that was obvious, but she was. How?
Raising her eyes, she looked up at Bellatrix's. Thick curls spilled around her face, parts of it pulled back out of her eyes. "What?" she snapped, looking down at Hermione. A short curl slipped loose defiantly and slipped down over her features until in brushed down the edges of Bellatrix's jaw. "Speak. Merlin, you're thinking too loud."
Hermione flinched but the dark witch made no move to hurt her. She lifted her head, swallowed and found something that resembled courage in her self as she asked, "H-how?" Bellatrix tilted her head, her lips curling back in a sneer.
"Speak full sentence," she demanded. Hermione flinched at her voice before nodding.
"How d-did I keep m-my sanity?" she managed. Bellatrix frowned as she looked at Hermione.
"How should I know?" The witch rolled her eyes as Hermione stared up pathetically curious at her, "People's mental strengths differ from person to person. You organize your mind in such a way that it makes it difficult to bring down your 'wall' of sanity. Frank Longbottom was the same; his wife broke long before he did," Bellatrix grinned at the memory.
Hermione went quiet. There was nothing more to be said. Within moments she was dragged back down the stairs and thrown back into the cage before it was sealed again. Bellatrix's boots clicked away as Hermione cowered in the corner. Her robes, her shirt and singlet were all missing, leaving much of her bare to the cold.