chapter 11 PREDATOR AND PREY
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Antonin?"
"Bloody hell, Lucius, I was only messing around..."
"I remember well enough what I ordered you and I'm quite sure my orders didn't include you touching her. You spit on my generosity by seeking to harm...my property."
"No real harm has been done to her! Nothing a few healing charms can't fix-"
"You deliberately ignored my commands. You really should know better than to oppose me, Antonin."
Barely consciouses, Hermione could swear her heart stopped. For one moment; the world stopped. The pain numbed her until her body thrummed, unaware of anything else. The only part of her brain that was working was the part asking her, 'Is that really him? Is that really his voice?'
But it was impossible. It was a dream. Maybe she'd finally lost it. Dolohov had really sent her over the edge, because it was impossible.
She held her breath, wanting to hear what they were talking. She recognized Dolohov's voice. It was impossible not to, because in the last days his voice was the only thing she was allowed to listen to. But the second voice was not Dolohovs voice, it was too smooth, too nostalgic to her. Familiar and soothing, yet so foreign. But it was a hallucination, after all. It could have been anyone. Dolohov could have brought some friends with him to make it more entertaining.
She was positive that her mind was playing tricks with her and was making her think that he had returned. She felt like she was in the world between consciousness and unconsciousness. She was so exhausted that all she wanted was to give into the darkness, but at the same time she wanted to know if it was all really just her imagination.
"It seems to me that you doubt my authority. You disobeyed my orders, what I take as a direct offence against me. And I do not tolerate an offence against my authority."
Hermione concentrated on the voices. The first one was scared, somehow weak, and the other one angry and it seemed to have some kind of a control over the first voice. Soon their words became incomprehensible. Hermione could still hear them talking, but couldn't make anything out of it.
It was then that Hermione realized that she wasn't wearing any clothes as Dolohov took those away the first day. She tried to move her body and cover herself with her hands, but it only caused a whimper to escape her lips. Then deadly silence followed and for a moment Hermione thought that all had been a dream and that she was alone in the cell, waiting for Dolohov to return and hurt her once more.
But then an angry voice was heard again:"I will deal with you later. Do not think I will let your disobedience stay unpunished."
Her heart was racing as she heard someone approaching her. When that someone knelt down next to her, it hit her. The smell. It was his smell. She couldn't describe or explain it, but that was definitely his smell.
"Mudblood?"
And that voice. Now that it was so close to her, there was no doubt. She had been called Mudblood a lot of times before, but the way it was spoken could have only been said by one person.
Her throat was not making any decipherable sounds other than pants and whimpers, so she could not speak.
It was then that she did the one thing she'd hoped she would never ever do in front of anyone, especially in front of him. She broke down into painful wracking sobs, her entire body shaking with the force of them.
She sobbed from pain, from memories of every horrible thing that has happened to her since he left and the utter relief that enveloped her at hearing his voice again. Her sense of relief sickened her. But she couldn't deny that she was grateful for his protection of her and his complete domination of her attacker. Shame of that gratitude flooded her and only caused her to sob harder. How could she be grateful to the very man that was responsible for Voldemort's victory? How could she be thankful, after all he had done to her, to her friends, and to their cause?
Strong arms hooked under her knees and wrapped around her waist, the scent of firewhiskey and thyme invading her senses as he lifted her deftly. Hermione was fully aware of the fact that she was naked, but she couldn't find herself being bothered by that. All she cared about was that she was being taken away from Dolohov. The last thing she could remember before she drifted off to sleep was the squeezing feeling of Apparition.
*
When she finally came to, the first thing she realized was that she was no longer in a cell. She couldn't feel the hard ground underneath her body which made her wonder where she was. It was warmer that it had been in a cell and it smelled different. Cleaner. When she moved her arm slightly, she discovered that she was covered with a blanket for which Hermione was grateful, because she wasn't wearing anything. It took her a few moments to remember everything that had happened and immediately her eyes flew open. It was a reflex, even though she couldn't see anything. When she felt the softness beneath her, she realized she was laying on a bed.
But whosebed was it? She took a shaky breath, grabbing the blanket and holding it tightly for comfort. Then shock overtook her as she realized that maybe everything could have been a dream. Maybe she was slowly losing her mind and that caused her to imagine Lucius returning and saving her from Dolohov. She forced herself to keep breathing.
When she felt the bed dip slightly she squeezed her eyes shut, willing it all to just go away. She wished she was in her own bed, safe at home or at Hogwarts.
"Are you hurt?"
Relief shot through Hermione as she recognized Lucius' cold voice. She felt the familiar trembling of her body, the lump in her throat, the panic that seemed to choke her every time he was close to her.
He was asking if she was hurt. It was strange how he managed to ask that question with such emotionless and cold voice. If he didn't care, then why was he asking if she was hurt?
"Lucius," she stuttered, feeling tears starting to form in her eyes. But it wasn't because of the pain or sadness or humiliation, but relief. Pure relief at hearing his voice.
Lucius sighed in annoyance and Hermione realized it was probably because she called him by his name. He didn't like it when she said his name. Maybe because he thought she wasn't worthy of speaking it or because she made everything more personal with that. He never called her Hermione or Granger. It was always 'girl' or mudblood'.
"Answer my question," he demanded.
If she was hurt? What kind of a question was that? Was he blind? Hermione couldn't understand why was he asking her that. She was unable to see herself, but she could imagine what she looked like. Dirty, covered in bruises, weak.
"What did he do to you?" he asked, growing impatient.
She didn't want to anger him, but she didn't understand why did he want to hear it from her. Besides, he was the one who handed her to Dolohov without caring what would happen to her. Why did he insist on knowing what happened to her? Maybe he wanted to enjoy listening to her as she would talk about all the horrible things she had to endure.
"I-I think that's none of your concern," Hermione said quietly.
"As it so happens, you are mine. Your mind, soul and body," he said firmly, "So I'm making it my concern."
Hermione could argue with him, but deep inside she knew he was right. She was his. At first only her body belonged to him to with it what he pleased, but things had changed since then. When she was suffering under Cruciatus or receiving slaps from Dolohov, she wished for Lucius. Not Harry or Ron or anyone else. She wanted Lucius to come and save her. Her mind and soul were his possession ever since she first thought of Lucius as her protector.
He sucked in his breath, ever so quietly as he repeated his question:"What did he do to you?" he asked, his voice perfectly still and controlled, "Tell me or I will be forced to see for myself. You wouldn't want that, trust me."
Hermione didn't understand what me meant by that, but there was a threat in his voice and she decided not to anger him:"He did what you ordered him to do," she whispered, hoping her voice wouldn't break.
Lucius sneered at her answer:"And how would you know what ordered him to do?"
Hermione took a shaky breath as she forced the words out:"He slapped me, kicked me, insulted me-"
Her mind flashed back to that day when Dolohov had her pinned against the wall and trailed his hand all over her body, stopping on her breast. But Lucius didn't need to know about that. Hermione wasn't sure if she could stand the feeling of humiliation if she had to tell him about it.
She wrapped her arms defensively around her chest as she pushed that memory away.
"Is that all?" he asked calmly, but he was somehow tensed as if he was expecting to hear something else as well.
"Y-yes," she lied.
"What I saw when I walked in on you two, didn't seem as a beating to me," he drawled and there was obvious disgust in his tone.
Hermione pressed her lips together, not wanting to tell him what Dolohov was trying to do. And Lucius was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. From what he saw, he could figure it out by himself. Why was he asking her about it?
"He didn't do anything," Hermione said quietly, then added, "He would have done, if you hadn't..."
She didn't finish that sentence, but she knew that Lucius understood what she meant to say. A long pause followed and Hermione could only hear her own breathing.
Then without a warning something was put on her lap. Hermione startled slightly, anxious about the proximity with him. She moved her arms from under the blanket and her hands touched the thing on her lap. Se recognized it as a plate.
"What-"
"There are two sandwiches. A glass of water in on the bedside table," he said coldly, "Eat."
Hermione wanted to ask so many questions. She wanted to know where he had been, what had happened with the resistance. Did he do his duty? Something inside Hermione told her that all the survivors were probably dead, but that didn't shock her as it should. She was aware of the fact that only a day ago Lucius had probably killed a lot of people, good people and now he was offering her food. A Gryffindor in her was convincing her to throw the plate at him and spit at him, but she did nothing of those things. Instead she took the sandwich from the plate and without hesitation took a big bite.
Hermione closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation and the taste. It was delicious. The first food in days. But she couldn't enjoy it completely. Not with Lucius sitting so close to her and observing her.
She hated when he did that. She felt so vulnerable, not being able to see him, to see the expression on his face, while he could see every emotion that passed her face. She wasn't good in hiding her feelings.
As she started eating her second sandwich, Lucius finally decided to speak.
"I knew Antonin wouldn't hesitate to take his perverted biases out on you," he said, his voice quiet and there was a trace of anger in it.
Hermione gritted her teeth together to stop herself from shouting insults at him. He knew what would happen to her with Dolohov and still he gave her to him.
"But I didn't think he would be brave and stupid enough to ignore my orders," it seemed as if he was speaking to himself.
Hermione still said nothing. When she was done with eating, she felt a bit better and full. Then something accured to her as her mind replayed Lucius words. Antonin ignored his orders? That meant that Lucius ordered him not to touch her. That fact worried her more that it should.
"Why did you-" Hermione started, but then closed her mouth, realizing Lucius probably wouldn't like it if she asked questions, especially about his intentions and his motives for acting the way he was acting.
But he knew whet she meant to ask and he answered emotionless:"I don't like it when people touch my possessions without my permission. And that's what you are. A mere possession."
He had said it so many times before that it had no effect on Hermione anymore.
For a moment he was quiet, but then he took a deep breath before speaking again:"I wonder what is it about you that made him act so irresponsibly," he asked quietly, but Hermione noticed a threat in his words.
Lucius' hand moved to her shoulder, pushing her down until she was laying on her back. Hermione's hear beating fastened at not knowing what he was planning on doing. She knew she should fight, but she couldn't find the strength to do so. She was still exhausted and every move hurt.
"What is so special about you?" he murmured.
Hermione didn't know what to expect from him, but at least he wasn't violent. She didn't think she would be able to stand more violence after everything that happened with Dolohov.
She listened carefully to Lucius' breathing. He seemed calm, composed, even lost in his thoughts. But that didn't prevent the goose bumps from covering her skin because of the fear that was running through her veins.
He reached out his hand to cup her cheek and Hermione tensed at first, but then felt a calming influence. For a moment she thought it was some kind of spell but she soon realized that it wasn't magic that quelled the storm inside her, but his tenderness. Why was he tender? Was he playing with her mind again?
Before she even realized it, tears were slowly running down her cheeks. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to still her breathing, ignoring the few tears that were running down her cheeks, some stopping on her lips. Suddenly she felt Lucius' hand jerk away from her face with an angry sigh. Without even thinking, Hermione knew the reason behind his reaction. A tear had probably rolled down onto his fingers and he couldn't afford being dirtied by her filthy tears.
"Call me blind, but I see nothing special on your face," he said sarcasticly, then added with false innocence, "What could Antonin see so intruiging on you? Maybe it was your body?"
Hermione tensed, grabbing the blanket beneath her for comfort.
Then the blanket that was covering her body was slowly pulled down, revealing her naked chest. Immediately Hermione covered herself with her arms, but she somehow knew it was pointless. If Lucius wanted something from her, he would get it, no matter what she did.
He chuckled coldly before speaking:"Do not think you can prevent me from doing what I want, girl."
Hermione knew she should scream from the fear that filled her at his words but only a single sob escaped her lips.
"I will remove your hands and you will not fight me. Is that clear?" he demanded.
All Hermione could do was nod. His confident voice had such a control over her. And she decided that this time she won't fight him, as she realized that it would make everything worse. If she didn't struggle, if she simply let him do what he wanted to do, maybe he wouldn't hurt her too much.
With that thought in her mind, she squeezed her eyes tightly and waited for Lucius' next actions.
"I will have none of that, Mudblood. Open your eyes."
Hermione bit her tongue and obeyed. She hated how she was completely under his control, how she obeyed him without a fight. She couldn't even recognize herself anymore.
He sneered:"I want to see your eyes as I do this. I want to see what you're thinking."
Was she that obvious? Could he see her every thought and emotion through her eyes?
Slowly he grabbed her wrists and moved her arms away from her chest, pinning them beside her body. Hermione shuddered as it hit her that she was completely exposed to him. At least her upper body was.
She couldn't stop the horrible trembling and all she wanted was to cover herself, but she did not move. Not even when Lucius released her wrists. Her arms stayed the way he had put them.
It was a first time something like that happened. Lucius had seen her naked a few times already, but this time it was different, because he was actually looking at her. He didn't try to deny it, he even admitted he wanted to see her body.
Suddenly Hermione realized how stupid she was acting. She didn't even try to stop him. When had she turned into such a helpless little girl?
She tried to move her arm, but Lucius was faster as her grabbed her wrist, gripping it tightly.
"I don't think so," he said firmly, "You will stay still, do you understand me?"
Again, Hermione nodded and stopped with her struggling. And then a horrible silence filled the room. Hermione tried not to move her chest up and down as she took her breaths. She tried to think about other things, about anything else but the fact that she was exposed to Lucius. But it was useless, because she could clearly see him in her mind. She could imagine the grin on his face as his eyes traveled up and down her chest. No one has ever seem her that exposed before, apart from Dolohov. Hermione could feel her face burning with shame as she blushed. At least he wasn't touching her. Because that would send her over the edge. Lucius wasn't Dolohov. To Lucius her discomfort was more important than his pleasure. With Dolohov was completely different. All he cared about was his pleasure, not paying much attention to her feelings.
After what seemed like hours, Hermione finally felt him move away from her as he got up from the bed.
She was breathing heavily and shaking, but she didn't dare to move.
"You can cover yourself. I think I've seen enough of you for my whole existence," he said cruelly.
Hermione wasted no time as she quickly pulled the blanket over her chest, feeling a bit safer with that thin material protecting her from Lucius' eyes.
"I still don't understand how Antonin could see past your filthy blood just to get a grip on your pathetic excuse for female attributes," he talked with confidence and clear disgust.
His words hit Hermione like a slap. She knew she shouldn't feel affected by his words, but she couldn't help but to feel humiliated and hurt.
She couldn't stop the words from her mouth:"If I disgust you, then why did you spend a few minutes looking at my pathetic excuse for female attributes?" she said coldly, tears clinging to her eyelids.
In a moment he was beside her again, putting his hand to her throat. He pinched at it cruelly, making her choke.
"For your sake, I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that to me," he said, his voice quiet and still with contained rage, "I don't think I need to remind you that I was not the one who had you pinned against the wall with my hand on your hip and my tongue in your mouth."
Hermione cringed at the memory of that, but said nothing.
Lucius released her neck and walked away. Hermione could hear him open the door and then he stopped:"I have work. Clean yourself while I'm gone. You can use the bath tube. You will find your nightgown on a chair next to the bed."
With those words he left the room, leaving Hermione alone. For a few long minutes after he left, Hermione just stared into blackness, repleying the events in her mind.
It all seemed surreal to her. She couldn't accept what had just happened, because it was too humiliating. She once read that people tend to supress horrible things that happened to them deep into their subconsciousness. At that moment she wished to have that ability. A small voice in her head was telling her that everything that happened was her fault. She wished for Lucius to return, to save her, to take her away from Dolohov. And she got what she wanted. She had to admit that she would rather relieve what happened with Lucius a thousand times than to go back to Dolohov.
As she remembered Dolohov's hands on her, his mouth on hers, Lucius observing her body, she suddenly felt dirty. Slowly she got up from the bed, pulling the blanket tightly and trying to move as little as possible as she made her way to the bathroom, grabbing the nightgown from the chair in the process. She had trouble finding the way to it, but at least she didn't trip over something or hit the wall.
It took her a few minutes to discover how to fill the bathtub and then she slipped in the hot water, letting the feeling of calmness to wash over her. But she still remembered what happened the last time she had to take a bath and because she was taking too long, Lucius came for her. The last thing she wanted was to repeat that mistake. She rubbed her skin, hoping to get rid of all the dirt and blood. When she was finally done, she spent five minutes looking for a towel. She dried herself and then she grabbed the nightgown Lucius had left for her. Luckily he left her knickers also, but there was no bra. She knew it was stupid to wear a bra under a nightgown, but she would still feel better, safer with something more on her body.
When she was dressed, she made a step to walk out of the bathroom, but she slipped on the cold floors. Her body hit the ground with a noise and she cried out as her head connected with it. Pain shot through her body and Hermione feared she might have cracked her skull. As her hand flew up to examine the damage, she calmed down as she realized it was only a deep scar. But what sickned her was the blood that she felt under her fingers as she pressed her hand over the injured forehead.
She didn't even lose her time with getting up, she just crawled out of the bathroom. When she was in the bedroom again, she leaned against the wall, hugging her legs.
She closed her eyes and didn't allow herself to think about anything.
She wasn't sure how much time it had passed when she heard the door open. Her head flew up and waited for Lucius' to speak. She knew it was him, who else could it be?
"What happened to your forehead?" he asked, curiosity showing in his voice.
"I fell," was her only answer.
"Don't tell me you don't know how to walk, Mudblood," he sneered.
Hermione didn't feel strong enough to fight with him, so she stayed quiet.
"Come here," he demanded, slightly annoyed.
Hermione got up from the floor and followed his voice. When she was finally standing in front of him, she heard him sigh with annoyance:"This is the first and the last time I will heal the injury you yourself caused. I will not lose my time with things caused by your own stupidity."
Not only a moment after Hermione felt the warmth on her wound, caused by his wand. The scar closed itself before disappearing completely.
"Thank y-" Hermione stopped mid sentence, closing her mouth in shock. What was wrong with her? Why was she thanking him?
She waited in fear for Lucius' response and she flinched when she heard him let out a cold laugh:"You're welcome, Mudblood," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I didn't know you treat your enemies the same as your friends."
"I don't-"
He cut her off:"Speaking of friends, I have some rather sad news. For you, anyway."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"I know that Dolohov probably told you where I went and what was my duty. Am I right?"
Hermione nodded, not quiete sure where he was going with it.
"The resistance was completely destroyed," Lucius said proudly, "Not one of the survivors has remained alive."
Hermione wasn't shocked by his words. She knew that the moment he had returned. But why was he saying that to her? Did he enjoy seeing her broken and crying without any hope?
"I know," she replied, hoping her voice wouldn't crack.
"I have to say I expected a bit more emotion from you. Maybe you simply do not care what happened to them."
"I do-"
Again, Lucius didn't let her finish her sentence:"There were a few of those blood-traitors Weasleys as well."
That caused pain to shot through Hermione and she could already feel her throat tighten:"W-who?"
"You don't expect me to know every one of them by their name, do you? What matters is that they are no more walking among us, humiliating the name of wizard," he sneered, satisfaction clear in his tone.
"You bastard," Hermione whispered.
She gasped in surprise as Lucius slapped he across the face. It had been so long since she had been hit by him, she almost forgot the feeling.
"Don't think you can get away with any further disrespectfulness, Mudblood," anger showed in his words, but then he continued, "They wanted to make me pay for killing that pathetic boy."
Ron. Sweet and innocent Ron.
"You should see their faces when I described what I did to him and how he begged for mercy. Not only a few minutes later, they were begging as well," Lucius talked, enjoying Hermione's quiet cries.
"Stop it," she whispered, even though she knew he wouldn't stop.
"You loved that boy, didn't you? Too bad he will never know you as good as I do."
"You don't know me!" Hermione raised her voice as hurt took over her.
"No? Tell me, has he ever seen you crying, begging for mercy? Has he ever seen you calling yourself a Mudblood? Has he ever seen you naked like I have today?" Hermione could imagine the evil grin on his face at his last statement.
She didn't answer him, pressing her lips tightly together. Lucius was right. Everything he said was the truth. She wished she could argue with him, but she couldn't. And that was so dangerous about Lucius. He was the most manipulative person she had ever met. He had the ability to turn the truth against you and that way you couldn't fight back.
"My oh my, what a pathetic boy Weasley was. He probably died without having ever done more than holding hands with a girl. What a shame."
"Stop making fun of him! You don't have the right," Hermione almost shouted at Lucius.
"I do whatever I want and you'll do whatever I want," his voice was a low, dangerous growl with such confidence in it.
Hermione felt sick at the thought that Lucius knew her better than her friends. He had seen her worst side, he had seen her weakest moments and Hermione couldn't hide anything from him. She was like an open book to him, completely exposed. She couldn't do anything to protect herself from him, because he could anticipate her every next move. He was a predator and she was his prey.
Hope you liked this chapter! Soon it will become clear what Lucius' true motives are and his reasons for treating Hermione the way he does. Don't forget to review! :)