A/N: Slight trigger warning. Eventually Hermione would be on her menstrual cycle if she were held up for at least a months time, and that time dear readers, is today. So, for the squeamish who don't like to read about that, I suggest skipping until the seventh paragraph: 'she stifled her cries…' there's also a brief mention again further down the chapter when Wanda returns.
Well, I'm not too happy with this chapter. I sat down and wrote it in one sitting and I have to admit, ugh. I want to get to the smut, I have it all worked out in my head (heh) and I just need to get there but stuff has to happen first. The romance part of this will weave through slowly. So fair warning, anyone who wants them to declare love any time soon (and if ever? I'm not sure if they will) then they may have to wait a looong time. I like drawing out romances, but I get bored if they don't do something.
Anyway. I'll be flirting with the M rating (for sex scenes, as nudity and violence are below) later.
Below there's a little bit of the HBC Bella we all know *swoon* I usually don't like cray-cray crazy that much but Carter plays her so damn well that she just oozes sexy. I think I need to have a HBC marathon, who's up for it? ;)
Maeve: Thank you :3 I'm trying to make sure it's not too much like the other 'abducted by Bellatrix' stories out there. I want this to really be quite different from them. Especially their relationship.
caradens: I really like your name O_o I just had to say that. Oh yeah, I just assumed that Bellatrix would know spells - you know, since giving her the breath of life would just be a little too close to ripping off idea ;) however Hermione wouldn't know that :P she'd vaguely be aware of that but I didn't think her mind would quite go as far as 'oh, Bella's using spells on me' so much as she'd be feeling more drugged.
Well Hermione's trying to survive the best she can, and although a large part of her still incredibly defiant, her survival instinct is working to make her at least a little compliant. I did some research into Stockholm to make sure I'm writing in the correct direction - hopefully I am :)
Guest: Oh, yeah. I know what sociopaths are like in first hand experience for eight years of my life. Don't get me wrong. I guess I came off wrong. Theortically in books and shows I looove sociopaths (Denna and Cara, Regina Mills, Bellatrix...well she's a psychopath technically? Etc) I would never really get into a relationship with one because the part of me that likes a sociopath is the part that wants to cuddle them and fix them, which is impossible!
Yeseti: asdfghjkl;' *flails* thank you muchly! :3 oh wow, V for Vendetta, that's one of my favourite films - though I also like the graphic novel to haha, but I prefer the film. The torture/prison scene is one of my favorites, especially with the woman's story :3 that's the most romantic part for me and it speaks volumes.
Darkshadow-lord: That bloody weasel *shakes fist* though I'm trying to keep to at least some canon and not just kill him. I don't hate Ron, I just think Bellatrix and Hermione make a sexier couple :P n'aww poor Bella. She's getting feelings and doesn't like them one bit haha.
YES! I'm at my Nanna's helping her around post-hospital and every time she's asks what I'm writing, it's "oh...nothing much Nanna…" *tap-tap-tap grin-tap*
Andu1991: Well I hope this chapter explains it a little but as I said above, Bella's got feelings and she does not like them. There little tiny shards that slice into her once-well made wall of emotion blockage heh. But as much as she enjoys hurting Hermione, she's doing it for a reason and the kindness is a necessity of doing it (as LittleWoobie116 pointed out, it's the aftercare that strikes a powerful bond. People in S&M and D/S relationships require aftercare)
214: You are absolutely lovely and if I could, I'd hug you right now because that review was just a ball of warmth and I've been grinning like an idiot since I've read it. Thank you so very, very much!
Alright readers, have fun! And thank you for reviews/favorites/follows they mean a lot!
Ta-dah!
4.
Change
Something had been altered after that day. Bellatrix had changed and it wasn't for the good. She was pushing Hermione harder, too close to insanity. There was more pain, more torment. The softness had been washed away and Hermione craved it more than she thought she would. In Bellatrix's arms, she thought she could change her...a part of her had wanted to even help the woman somehow.
Now she was screaming, her voice breaking as she shuddered and the curse lifted. Sweat rolled like beads down her face and pattered onto the floor. She could smell the blood. It was thick in the air and ran down her legs, dropping from her feet, to the wooden floor.
Her jeans had been removed, her underwear remained. The white cotton, turned red leaked the blood that ran down her legs.
Through all the torture, through the tears and how Bellatrix spoke to her, it was her own monthly blood that brought the most degradation to her. Bellatrix barely said anything on it, except the occasional comment on how muddy it looked as it began to dry down her legs. She didn't care about the words, she was used to them.
But her lungs, burning in screaming breaths, seemed to cry out for something. She wanted to be drowned, wanted the water to dilute her blood and clean her inside and out. She wanted to at least be-
No, her thoughts couldn't go there. She needed to block them.
Hermione pushed back, backtracking to the thoughts before. She focused on the blood to keep the thoughts at bay.
It was strange, she hadn't even noticed it the first day. She'd completely forgotten until the next morning when it was too late. How many times had she complained before all of this and snapped at her cramps? How many times as she moaned in bed with a hot water bottle and Ginny handing her a cup of tea. Enough, she thought. Enough to know that it was nothing to now.
She stifled her cries into her arm and felt Bellatrix run her fingers over her back. The tenderness was brief; too late, Hermione relaxed into it.
The spell came and through the pain, Hermione squeezed her eyes and focused her mind. If she could just focus in the pain, it'd be easier. Not on the blood, not the blood, it wasn't enough. She pushed, further and further into her mind until-!
Her eyes fluttered and she could picture his face, his hair, his freckled across his nose and that smile. The pain was there, it was strong - but she'd done this before, she could do this all again, if she just…focused. She had to focus!
"I know what you're doing," Bellatrix whispered lowly into Hermione's ear, causing the young witch's eyes to snap open, "You've created a refuge in your mind. Everyone tries it eventually," her fingers traced slowly over the girl's jaw before her thumb brushed down to the jugular. Hermione could feel her heart beat against the witch's thumb, pressing against her in an almost threat.
She didn't speak, didn't reply to the dark woman. Her eyes flickered shut as the drying tears on her face began to burn her skin. It was nothing compared to before, but it was enough to choke a sob within her throat.
The hesitation was enough for Bellatrix. She grabbed the girl's throat only hard enough as to surprise and scare. She flicked the dark, charcoal eyes up to see the manacles, before looking back down at Hermione. "Who are you thinking about?" she asked softly. Hermione remained quiet. "Who?" she demanded again. "Who?"
The woman's voice shook Hermione, releasing the sob with a painful cry of, "Ron, I'm thinking about Ron!"
But it wasn't enough, not any more. His face, his voice and touch no longer carried her away from the pain. She couldn't drift any further. Revulsion of herself seeped through her body. A part of her had given up and become something else. She didn't believe she could be saved any more. She wasn't even sure…if...
Nausea rose up and she silenced the thought.
That quivering hope she'd had released was gone, blown out with a single slap. Bellatrix had changed since she'd delved into Hermione's mind and rifled through her memories. Everything had changed. She was sure that Bellatrix would soon lose control and she'd die. She almost longed for that moment when everything released and her muscles relaxed.
"Oh, no," Bellatrix whispered, coaxing her gently. "I'm not going to let you die." Hermione's eyes opened with a flash of horror. In the dull, floating candle light, the dark witch looked almost like her younger self. Her age was hidden well enough that Hermione could almost see the girl before Azkaban. The one that had gladly tortured Alice and Frank.
Hermione though, stared into Bellatrix's eyes, feeling another painful tear slide down her face and drip onto the dirtied remnants of her clothes. She was reading her mind, she could see Ron's face, hear his voice every time Hermione called for him.
"No," Bella almost laughed, a mock-comfort gestured as she brushed strands of her hair behind Hermione's ear, "your thoughts belong to me now. Everything about you now belongs to me. You're going to be the perfect pet and soon, my dear, all you'll be able to think about…" she pushed close, her face a breath away from a kiss. Hermione shut her eyes, feeling the woman so close to her as she spoke, "Is me."
The words slipped over Hermione's lips, brushed over her cheeks in wisps. Hermione shivered and felt the words then run hotly down her spine and she felt Bellatrix shift, her hand cupping her face.
"I've been so cruel to you lately," she whispered, "and you've been so good to me." Her thumbs brushed over Hermione's cheekbones, brushing remnants of tears. "I should be kinder to my Pet," she parted her lips and so tentatively, pressed her body closer. Their breasts, both covered by contrasting material, slid friction against another as Bellatrix took the breaths difference away from them.
Her lips touched only briefly as Hermione pulled in a tight breath, almost wishing to draw the woman closer. She could taste the dark witch's perfume, smell her magic, but just as the very edge of the red lips touched only a peak of her own, a loud knock rang through out the house.
Bellatrix scowled and pulled away. "Wanda!" she called. The house elf appeared immediately. "Take her into the basement. Leave no trace behind that she's here."
Hermione's eyes were wide open, confused. Her cheeks were flushed a vibrant pink from the events and Bellatrix stared passively at her before pulling out her wand and releasing the manacles. Hermione dropped to the floor but before a sound could be made, Wanda had grabbed her and taken them both downstairs to the basement.
"Mistress requires Miss Granger to stay here," Wanda said. "If Miss Granger remains quiet, Mistress Black will be very pleased." There was mere seconds before the house elf disappeared with a small pop! leaving Hermione in the darkness alone. Blood still ran down her legs, thick and hot. It was a stark contrast to the cold, stone floors.
Slowly, Hermione crawled on her shaking legs, over to the window and pressed her back against the wall as she looked up. Her spine ached, but she straightened it to listen. The window looked out to the front of the manor, and if she pressed far enough against the wall, at the right angle, she could see the front steps and-
There was a cloak, a voice. Someone was talking in a whisper. Hermione remained quiet, ready to hold her breath as she watched the cloak moved. The voices became louder.
"Someone stole the girl," the man said at Bellatrix's door. "They came to my house looking for her. They went to check Severus' but they can't find him. At the moment they think Snape took the mudblood-" It was about her! Hermione realized, and her mis- Bellatrix - must be talking to one of the other death eater's who'd been at the school on that night.
"Yes, and?" Bellatrix cut in. "What, you think I stole her?" Bellatrix laughed, long and loud, "What would I have for a mudblood girl, hmm?"
"You've been known to keep pets."
"Yes, I have," Bellatrix said. Hermione could imagine her almost posing against the doorway, blocking the man's entry with her body as she accentuated every one of her curves. Her breasts most prominently would be hidden behind a corset, but pushed to such a display that his greedy eyes would barely be able to meet hers. "But that's all they are: rumors."
The death eater seemed unimpressed and Hermione could hear Bellatrix moving. The dark mistress was becoming less amused and more annoyed with the situation.
"If and when I get a pet, I'd have for a half blood," she told him haughtily. "Perhaps I'll break Harry Potter before the Dark Lord gets his hands on him, I would like a new foot stool and my boots to be licked clean." Hermione shuddered and paused at the new sound.
The death eater seemed to be cussing under his breath.
"Speak up," she commanded, "I don't have time to repeat myself and if you need to mumble your way through speech I think it's time you left, got off by however you do it these days, and then came back with a clear head instead of staring down my dress."
"I…your husband said-"
"No. You listen to me. I don't care that you came all the way here to accuse me of something you and I both know I'd have no interest in. What I care about is the fact that you're still here even though it's painfully obvious that I was in the middle of something when you came here."
"Is Rod-"
"Don't," she growled. "The only reason I haven't hexed you is because I'm assuming that the small shred of dust you call a brain, inside that excruciatingly thick skull of yours, will soon become highly aware that staying here, asking questions on my marriage is a very, very bad idea." The death eater flinched at the severity of her tone. "Leave," she hissed, and quickly he did.
Hermione didn't catch his face, but it didn't matter. Bellatrix was angry. No matter how good she'd been, how quiet and compliant to Bella's wishes, the dark witch was not in a good mood. The door slammed shut, and echoed both through the house and the manors gardens.
Hermione scrambled and pressed herself against the outside wall of the cage and stared at the basement door. No one came, though. The footsteps came closer then faded away as Bellatrix stalked past.
Hermione became all too aware of how quiet the house was after that. Bellatrix had left to a room and luckily had forgotten about Hermione and decided to direct her anger elsewhere. To someone else? Hermione wondered as she remembered the death eater mentioning that there'd been rumors of Bellatrix's having pets before.
Were there others? And were they here, being treated just as badly? Or did Bellatrix treat them better; give them proper food, pet them and hold them close?
Hermione flushed at the jealousy that had sprung through her. No, no. Did she really crave acceptance from Bellatrix?
Of course she did, Hermione realized. She was her pet, and every time Bellatrix muttered or whispered an approval, her whole body hummed with the only thing that resembled happiness - everything else was anger, loathing or depression.
It didn't stop there, Hermione's mind was racing to analyze her feelings: Bellatrix was, in essence, her mentor. A scary, torturer, but a mentor nonetheless. She was teaching her. That's what Bellatrix had said, she'd wanted Hermione to learn and...she was...no.
"Oh God." Hermione barely had time before her stomach heaved and the contents of her breakfast landed in the corner of the basement. Sickly, she drew back. A part of her craved respect, approval and anything resembling pride from Bellatrix. She wanted to be a good pet, wanted to be the best because she needed to be told that she was doing everything she could to survive and win this.
It was…revolting, she decided. Her stomach heaved again, but she pushed it down. Sickly stumbling away. How could she? How could her soul crave that almost kiss - that sign that Hermione had been doing good?
How come, when Bellatrix had whispered against her skin, how well she was learning, Hermione's heart had pounded so loudly beneath her breast? She was a mess, a horrid, disgusting mess and soon, she knew, this would all turn into Stockholm Syndrome. Hermione pressed her forehead against the bars.
Oh…
Her eyes flickered open before the palms of her hand pressed against her temples in a craze.No, no, no! She was too late. Ever since that day, ever since she'd been drowned and Bellatrix had yelled so passionately at her, she'd begun to understand. Her mind, in the darkness of the basement, had thought over Bellatrix's words and analyzed them until there was nothing left to think about.
Just like she was doing now.
Her stomach turned sickly again and Hermione pulled herself into a tight ball, trying to make sense of the situation. Bellatrix had craved approval, craved equality and she'd been shot down by her male teachers because she was a girl.
And then the Dark Lord - Voldemort! She tried to remember - came and offered her...everything she ever wanted.
It was beginning to make sense. Too much sense.
The door opened and Hermione looked up with wide eyes, her body curled up and looking broken as she stared at her Mis- Bellatrix.
Bellatrix's silhouette stood in the light looking down and casting a long shadow over Hermione's fragile frame. She turned, leaving the door opened and wordlessly, Hermione grabbed the bars of the cage and rose to her feet, following. It was the first time she climbed the stairs and softly felt the stone beneath her bare feet. It was remarkable how different the stone felt when she was in control.
She swayed on her legs at the top, leaning against the wall to dizzily catch her breath as she stared at Bellatrix's retreating form. The woman was silent, passive but anger held the woman's shoulders tight. Hermione followed, scared and curious like a small child who knew they were about to be punished.
Her footsteps creaked on every floorboard that Bellatrix walked over without a sound. Her fingers grazed against the wallpaper, steading herself in weak moments as she focused on her breaths.
Her chest was tight, her heart beating rapidly. Was she exhausted, or scared? She couldn't tell but her body followed into the bathroom.
Dread filled her stomach, but when she stepped into the bathroom, she felt the heat of the water seep over her. Would it be boiling this time? She wondered. Did Bellatrix want to scald her until she screamed mercy?
She removed her clothes with hesitation at Bellatrix's command, before she stepped into the tub. The charcoal eyes never left hers as she stared.
"You've been good and I've been unnecessarily cruel," she finally said as Hermione slipped in beneath the waters. The water was warm and Hermione suppressed the moan that built in her throat. "I won't stop what I'm doing, but if you continue to be good, I'll continue to do this."
Hermione turned in the waters, feeling the bubbles slip around her as she easily stood on the bottom of the deep bath and started up at Bellatrix with nothing but her shoulders bare showing.
"I'm sorry," spilled from Hermione's lips when she focused on the woman's eyes. Not that long ago, only yesterday, she'd fallen asleep cursing Bellatrix in her dreams, ripping the woman apart as she was ripped apart. It'd scared her how cruel she'd been, only now did she remember the brief tender moments. In the darkness of the night, she conveniently forgot this side of her.
"You need to stop saying that."
"Why?"
"Because I don't understand," Bellatrix replied. The words were quiet and soft. Slowly, Bellatrix walked over to the rim of the tub, dipping her feet in as she gestured for Hermione to move closer. Hermione walked, then as the tub became shallower, she swam until she pressed her back between Bellatrix's legs. Her head, she noticed, could brush the edges of the corset.
Bellatrix was cruel, sadistic and incongruous, but it was the latter part of her personality that had the fleeting moments of softness. Hermione could feel fear racing in her heart, but how easily as she come to her when beckoned? Already she was trained to follow simple commands without hesitation, without thinking.
Because a part of me believes that her beckons will be returned with softness.
Bellatrix, had her booted feet beneath water - really did she ever undress? - and legs on either side of Hermione. She dipped her fingers into the water before she began to detangle the knots in the girl's hair. It'd be easier if she attempted it with magic, but Hermione deduced that the manual way kept her mind busy.
"I can be better," she whispered. A part of her died at the words, at how honest they were.
"What?" Bellatrix asked, her finger pausing only briefly in Hermione's hair.
"You said you didn't understand. I meant that I can be better. I can be what you want," Hermione hated herself more than ever at that moment. Her mind was clouded, and she was torn. She wanted to please the woman, prove that she was the best, and at the same time, she was repulsed by herself.
Bellatrix snorted. "I don't want a mindless pet, Pet."
"But you said-"
"Hush. Think on it, it'll come to you," she continued to fiddle with her hair. "I don't have other pets here."
Hermione went still, had she been in her mind then or before when she'd wondered that? "Have you?"
"Yes."
"Will you after me?"
"Maybe," she sighed and slid into the water, behind Hermione. Her wand pulled out and tapped against Hermione's stomach briefly before touching the water. The blood disappeared, leaving Hermione feel almost thankful and hollow at the same time.
Before Hermione could utter another thank you, she grabbed her and turned her around, running her fingers over every mark she inflicted that day; Hermione's jaw, down to her neck, her clavicle, and then over her arms before slipping down to the mangled wrists. Her fingers, which had been deft before, hesitantly paused there. "I won't heal them," she told Hermione, raising her eyes to meet the confused hazel.
"Why?" Hermione asked. Her lips quivering just slightly. They'd scar now. She knew that if Bellatrix wouldn't heal them, they'd scar permanently and forever be a reminder.
"You'll understand soon, when people ask questions." Hermione went quiet, her anger protruding through her stiff posture. Bellatrix ignored her and slowly worked her way to healing the other wounds the best she could, fixing majority of the larger ones but allowing lesser one to remain. "How much do you hate me?"
This wasn't the first time Hermione had been asked. Every time it was asked blankly, as though she was commenting on another bruise on Hermione's body. "With every fibre of my being," Hermione replied, giving the same answer she gave every other time.
Her heart bet wildly in her chest, waiting. Would it be this time she'd be hit? This time that a curse would be flown and strike her down.
No. Like every other day, Bellatrix studied her quietly before she then pulled away.
Usually Hermione allowed her to think, to wonder or to leave the room. This time, she caught Bellatrix's wrist in her hand and held her there. Her eyes stared at Bellatrix's, watching how surprised they looked down at Hermione's hand before up, over Hermione naked body to those hazel eyes.
"Why do you always wear that dress?" Hermione asked.
"Because, Pet. This dress can't get any more blood on it." Hermione looked down at the dress, at the layers of skirts that sunk beneath the water and thickly, swam around Bellatrix's legs like ink.
"Hermione."
Again the dark witch looked at her surprised. Her lips parting and quirking into an almost smile.
"I have a name," Hermione pushed.
"Another day," Bellatrix said to her. Then she stepped closer and looked at Hermione's face, studying it as if she suddenly saw something across the features. "You hate your self, don't you?" she let out a low chuckle, "You're so lonely right now that you're striving for any form of communication with me." She smiled crudely, "You'll never be my equal."
Something snapped.
"How much do you hate yourself?" Hermione counted. The boundaries were pushed then. Any humor that had been starting in Bellatrix's eyes left instantly. "Aren't you lonely in this big house, with no one to talk to but a mudblood and a house elf?"
Bellatrix grabbed her, slamming her against the edge of the tub. Hermione gasped as the anger flooded the woman's face. She could feel the wet material of the dress beneath the surface of the water. She could feel it press and wrap around her legs as it danced, teasing her about ropes that could bind and suspend Hermione upside down.
"Be careful what your next words are," Bellatrix dared her. Hermione felt her head slam against porcelain, "I underestimated you," Bellatrix said. "It looks like you've managed to keep some part of yourself inside trapped under all those layers. You were so eager to please me before, to have my approval" she whispered, "and now you're acting out purposely for pain. Does a part of you want to be hurt, hmm?"
Hermione didn't answer but when a slow, cruel smiled pooled over Bellatrix's features, she knew the woman had found her answer.
"Oh, is the wittle mudblood afwaid?" she teased. Hermione's chest froze as she recognized the insanity creeping into the woman's voice. She didn't breathe, didn't dare to blink as she stared at the dark, insane eyes. "It's okay," Bellatrix purred, "I treat my pets well. I keep them happy. So, tell me pet. Why are you so afraid, so loathing of yourself? It feels like you hate you, more than me, but that can't be right." She laughed then her expression went cold as Hermione remained quiet, "answer me."
Her mind clouded even more. She felt herself struggle in her head before Bellatrix's nail dug tighter into her skin, "I'm losing myself to you!" Hermione shouted suddenly, surprising them both with her intensity. "I can't think, I can't breathe. And I...I want you to be proud of me." She found tears stinging her eyes as the woman recoiled ever so slightly, "I want you to hate me, I want to hate you and I do, I hate you with every fibre of my being and yet I crave that respect, I crave it more than any teacher, than anyone else. I've always-" she cut herself off suddenly and went quietly.
"You've always craved me?"
Hermione flushed, her cheeks going pink. "N-no, I wanted...I wanted to be better than you."
"Than me?" she was asking Hermione to explain it without saying the words.
But how did she begin to explain it? Hermione wondered. How did she even find the words? Bellatrix Lestrange's prowess was legendary; her scores unmatched by any other school, her feats higher than anyone else. She was the first female death eater, and Alecto was only brought in because of her brother! No, if there was anyone she wanted to be, it was an equal to Bellatrix. No other female in history seemed to be matched, none that Hermione had studied.
But she didn't reply. Didn't answer. She didn't need to. She half expected Bellatrix to rummage through her mind and find the answer, but she didn't.
"You're fascinated by me," Bellatrix whispered. "Well, isn't that ironic."
Hermione didn't reply. Her eyes locked onto Bellatrix's and watched as sanity crept over her features. The woman pulled back and seemed almost delighted at the prospect that Hermione was captured by everything but the darkness inside Bella.
But even then, Hermione wondered, everything had been altered when Bellatrix snatched her from Hogwarts. The fascination changed to something cruder, the reality of Bellatrix became prominent. Yes, she wanted to be Bellatrix's equal in battle, but was that all she wanted?