A/N: Hey I've been on a long hiatus so this chapter has been written by my almighty co writer/beta. Isn't she great? I think she is :) For the last month, I've been in France and now I'm in South Korea. Anyhow, we are pretty sure you guys don't remember what happened last time. So here's a recap.
Lord Voldemort seated himself in an armchair next to Hermione and asked, "Now who will volunteer to take care of my prize? This mudblood is my golden trophy, my prize for killing Potter along with his pesky friends, and winning the war."
New tears joined the traces of their predecessors, cascading down established tear tracks along her pale, bruised face. She tried her best to muffle her cries, but they could see her body shuddering from the vain effort.
The Dark Lord removed the mouth gag and asked, "Or... shall I be merciful enough to let you decide? Who will you choose as your new master?"
Hermione gritted her teeth through her tears and defiantly refused to speak. She scanned the room with her eyes, making note of each man and his reaction.
Lucius Malfoy sneered at her in condemnation and disgust. Good, that meant there was no threat of being chosen by him.
Draco looked at her nervously, obviously wanting to speak up, but unable to out of cowardice. He would have been the safest choice, but she wouldn't force him to do anything for her if it would put him in danger too.
Prof- Snape, that horrible traitor, was looking at her with cold, empty eyes. He'd always been cruel to her, but that lingering respect for authority figures made the icy stare of her ex-professor sting that much more.
She ignored it and rested her eyes on the second most dangerous man in the room. Barty Crouch Jr. He'd murdered both Lupin and Tonks, leaving Teddy an orphan, and then tortured Neville until he was a drooling, blubbering mess like his parents. The mad glint in his eyes as he stared at her reassured her that he would happily do the same to her, but he fortunately stayed his hand.
Unbeknownst to Hermione, the Dark Lord had been glowering at his Death Eaters from behind her, just daring the men to take away his prize. Smirking at the ringing silence in the room, he gripped the mudblood's hair and yanked it back, forcing her to bend her neck at a painful angle.
"Well, mudblood. It looks like none of my men want to own a filthy, disgusting wench like you."
"Good," she snapped. "I'd rather die than belong to anyone, least of all murderers like you."
Lord Voldemort laughed coldly. "You stupid, stupid girl. I don't think you understand your position right now."
He tossed her away, all traces of humor dissolving from his face. "You'd rather die? I think that could easily be arranged."
The other Death Eaters in the room immediately recognized the danger signs and Lucius silently slipped out of the room, pulling a stiff Severus and reluctant Draco behind him.
Barty, though also well versed in the warning flags that signaled the Lord's wrath, usually associated this with a delightful chance to torture a worthless worm. He stood there for a few more moments with a wild grin, until the Dark Lord shot him a look that clearly said, "Get the fuck out."
Though he flicked his tongue several times in agitation, Barty obediently shuffled out.
And then there were two.
Lord Voldemort circled around the mudblood much as a shark would corner its prey, looking for a weak spot to target.
How best to break this one?
He remembered Potter's sanity unraveling under the onslaught of his superior mind, remembered how the pest had screamed and begged under his wand. Voldemort sent this image at the mudblood, slamming it into her mental walls like a bludgeon against a glass window. The girl winced and curled into herself, scrambling to pick up the pieces of her feeble shields whilst ignoring her renewed tears.
Hmm. Something stronger, then.
He imagined tracking the mudblood's parents to Australia. He imagined making the male writhe with agony, imagined letting Grayback have his way with the female, imagined what state the bitch would be in afterwards, imagined neither muggle having any idea why this was happening to them and what they'd done. He imagined them having no idea who 'Hermione Granger' was, and shrieking to go find Hermione and torture her instead, because they had done nothing wrong. He imagined the sight of an unborn fetus within the female's womb, Granger's unborn baby sister. He imagined all the events more vividly than should be humanly possible, especially given that they had never happened, and streamed the images into Hermione Granger's unprotected mind.
The girl stiffened and then thrashed on the ground with fury and hurt and pain.
Ah, there we go.
Lord Voldemort grinned wickedly above Hermione who thrashed on the floor.
"YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER MONSTER! THEY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS WAR!"
The force of her anger turned her magic into a destructively precise instrument, unraveling the chains around her and allowing her to throw herself at Voldemort, her fingers outstretched into claws.
This was not exactly what he'd been aiming for, but it was an amusing outcome nevertheless, he mused.
Voldemort flicked his wand and threw her back against the opposite wall.
To his surprise, Granger caught herself by creating a cushion of air, control over her magic amplified infinitely by her emotional anguish. Throwing herself at him again, she created a whip of pure magic and attempted to cut him with it, only to be waylaid by an armchair that flew into her path. She slashed straight through the large furniture, cutting it clean in half.
"I HATE YOU, YOU BASTARD! YOU'VE RUINED MY ENTIRE LIFE!" the girl screamed, her whip only barely missing him when he apparated out of the way.
Lord Voldemort was forced to recall the face of the useless muggle Tom Riddle Sr., who'd said nearly the same thing to him when Tom Marvolo Riddle had gone to finally meet his father ("I hate you, you little bastard! You and your bitch of a mother have ruined my life!"). He felt the familiar rage coiling up within him and released it at the girl, throwing a spell at her with such destructive power that she created a great hole in the wall upon impact, despite the cushion of her own magic and the reinforced wood that had been used to create the room.
"Shut up, mudblood," he spat. He strode over to her slumped form and towered over her with a smirk. "I wonder how long it will take for you to break? You've got a pretty face, for a mudblood, but I'd much prefer it to be scrunched up in pain, with you screaming for mercy."
"As... if..." she wheezed out, still defiant.
Oh, this will be fun.
"That last image I showed you was false," he told her. She nearly sobbed in relief and he sneered at what he perceived as weakness. "But just know that I can do such a thing whenever I want. So make sure to behave, my little mudblood."
He fixed her broken bones with a swish of his wand and, with another, sent her to the rooms he specifically had prepared for her.
Lord Voldemort sat back onto the armchair and chuckled darkly. "What a cute, fun little toy. It makes me want to break her," he murmured to himself.
A large, green serpent slithered out of his inky cloak and rested on his shoulders. Lord Voldemort glided his pale, spidery hand over his beloved pet and told her, "Do you know what's extremely annoying? The damn witch clearly doesn't know who she belongs to now."
Nagini could feel his pulsing anger and she hissed angrily next to his face.
"Summon Lucius," Lord Voldemort said.
He felt Nagini uncoil herself as she lazily slid out of the dark room. After several moments, the Dark Lord could hear the door open once more.
Lucius dropped onto one of his knees. "You summoned me, my Lord?"
Lord Voldemort did not turn around. "Yes. Lucius, I require you to host a celebration for me."
"For what purpose, my Lord?" Lucius asked hesitantly.
The dark wizard chuckled to himself and said, "To make the girl understand who she belongs to and to allow everyone else to understand that they may not harm my trophy."
The other wizard replied, "Of course. Whatever you wish."
Lucius stood and bowed to Lord Voldemort before walking towards the wooden door.
"Lucius," the Lord called. "This time make it a formal event."
"Yes, my Lord." The door clicked shut. Lord Voldemort sighed in relief as Nagini joined him once more. He smiled at the thought of the witch in his bedroom.
I'll be constantly throwing thoughts and images into your mind, little bird, both real and imagined. Let's see how you hold up against this kind of torture.
I truly am sorry for the late update. As a token of my apology, the next chapter will cover all of their storylines and it will be quite a ball. Hope you'll enjoy watching the 5 men competing for her attention.
Now, I have a poll up on my profile for next chapter. The poll is to determine who your favourite storyline is so far and the more votes the character receives, the more attention I'll give to the character when I write out the next chapter. Can't wait to read your reviews, please don't kill me for posting slowly...
Cheers.