Hermione kept her wand drawn, slowly moving back toward her bed. The further she moved away from the door, the closer he moved. She realized her mistake almost immediately, when he stepped into the room, slamming the door shut. She grabbed the necklace around her neck again with her free hand, sending multiple messages to Rabastan summoning him for help.
Hermione shot several curses off at the older Lestrange, but he blocked and dodged each one. To her surprise, he lunged at her knocking her wand out of her hand. She heard it hit the hardwood floor and roll out of sight. He wrestled her onto the bed, but not without a fight. She clawed and scratched at him hoping to gouge his skin with fingernails. She felt warm liquid on her hands, knowing she had succeeded in drawing blood. If he was hurt, he didn't show it and continued to push her down into the bed. He finally pinned her arms above her head, and she only had one thing left to do — scream. She screamed as hard and as loud as her lungs would allow. He briefly let go of her arms and reached toward the floor to grab something. Without warning, he jabbed her in the cheek with his wand and silenced her. She continued to open her mouth, but no sound emitting.
"Got you now, Mudblood," the voice rasped in her ear. She frowned as the moonlight shone through windows highlighting the man's features. She had been wrong on her assumption earlier — this wasn't Rodolphus Lestrange at all! Before she could think further about the identity of her attacker, he pushed his knee in between her legs forcing them apart.
Her lip quivered, knowing he would steal her virtue if given a chance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to staunch the tears threatening to fall. She was hoping that Rabastan would come to her rescue. Or would he? Maybe this was part of his plan all along. If so, she let herself become too comfortable, and she hated herself for trusting someone too soon.
She felt him jab the wand in her cheek once more and felt the silencing charm lift. "I want to hear you scream Mudblood," he taunted her. She screamed again directly into her attacker's eardrum, attempting to buck him off. In retaliation, he ripped off the jeans she was wearing, exposing her undergarments.
"No one is coming for you. Little Lestrange left you here…" he screamed in her face, spit flying from his mouth before abruptly being cut off. He suddenly stopped speaking and his grip on her relaxed —blood suddenly pouring from his mouth. In her attempt to escape, she hadn't noticed the door opening. The man was now choking on his own blood, but before she could push him off, he was pulled off of her.
Scrambling off the bed, she saw Rabastan tying up her attacker with a menacing expression gracing his features. Immediately dropping to the floor, she felt around for her wand that had been flung from her fingers moments earlier, not trusting Rabastan enough to keep her eyes off of him. Quickly grabbing her fallen wand, she moved toward the chair that held her beaded bag. Placing it around her neck, she slowly walked towards the door hoping to escape and apparate once outside the wards of the manor.
Rabastan seemed stuck in a trance-like state staring at the body bleeding across the wood floor, so she took her chance and sprinted out the open door. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs to catch her breath before picking up the pace once more. Her abrupt departure must have brought him back to reality, and she heard him running down the stairs after her. She was running because she was afraid. Afraid that this had all been a scam, afraid that she let her hopes get up, just to have them crashing back down. She might as well cut her losses now and start her life again on the streets.
She could see the slight shimmer of the wards and knew she was close to escaping. Before she could leave the wards, another body collided with hers. Her wand once again was flung from her fingers as her body skidded across the grass, her face colliding with the cold, hard ground.
"Don't go running off before we both have an explanation, little witch," Rabastan said, panting. He pocketed her wand, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Angry and frustrated, Hermione started flailing her limbs, hoping to make contact with his precious family jewels. If she made contact, gave no indication and ignored her the rest of the way into the house.
She thought he would have set her down once they reached the inside, but was surprised when he tightened his group and made his way up the stairs. She stopped moving her limbs, scared he might lose his grip on her or trip. It wouldn't do either of them any good to plunge down the stairs to their death; although it was tempting after this evenings experiences.
When they reached the room Hermione had previously claimed as hers, he set her down but kept a tight grip on her arm. Turning towards her, Rabastan opened his mouth several times before finding the words he wanted to say.
"Now, Hermione. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with this," he said, forcing her to look at him.
Hermione snorted, doubting his promises. She tried once more to tug her wrist from his grip but was unsuccessful. His grip tightened, yanking her towards him. He spoke again, but this time directly into her ear and for the first time since meeting him the day before she was genuinely afraid.
"Listen to me and listen carefully. I took a Wizarding Vow earlier today promising that no harm would come to you. I wouldn't be standing here feeling the magic of our vow if I had betrayed it." As he pulled away from her, his eyes softened. He cupped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. She looked into his eyes for a moment knowing what he was saying rang true before turning away and walking into the room, Rabastan still tightly gripping her arm.
Walking into the room, Rabastan had lit the fireplace lighting up the room. She gasped seeing the figure on the ground. "I recognize him from the Department of Mysteries," she said, bending over the man lying seemingly dead on the floor. She sent a questioning look over her shoulder. "Colin Mulciber, inner circle Death Eater," he said, answering her unasked question.
Bringing herself back up to full height, she held out her hand nonverbally asking for her wand. Rabastan looked skeptical so she placed her hands on her hips, threatening him to tell her no. He pulled it out of his back pocket, and she grabbed for it, almost falling over when he pulled it away from her.
He twirled it around his fingers, taunting her. "I only want to re-arm myself before getting a closer look," she explained. Only after she assured him once more that she wasn't going to use it against him or make a run for it did he return her wand.
Crouching down to the floor, she shifted the body so he was now laying on his back. Bringing her fingers up to his blood covered neck, she pressed down looking for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak. She and Rabastan needed to discuss their next course of action. The way she saw it they had two options. The first option was to enact their original plan and finish off Mulciber as he was an inner-circle Death Eater. This would further them along without putting in too much effort. The second option was to heal the Death Eater currently dying on the floor and use him to further their cause. If he was one of the Death Eaters Rabastan could trust he could be beneficial.
The gears in her mind grinding, Hermione felt Rabastan pull her off the floor away from the body. He led her into the hallway hoping to appeal to the logical side of Hermione rather than her emotional side. He knew that her emotions would want her to try to save the Death Eater despite that he assaulted her, but he knew saving him would only cause their mission problems.
"Little witch," he said, bringing her back to reality. "I know what we should do, but I want to hear what you have to say first."
"I think we should let him die," she said, emotionless. "He is obviously dangerous. He just broke into your home, attacked me and attempted to rape me." He reached for her, but she held up her hand, stopping him. "Don't touch me right now."
He understood as she was just assaulted and almost raped, but he wanted to offer her some sort of comfort. "Do you want to do the honors? Or shall I?" he asked her.
Without answering him, she walked back into the room with her wand drawn. She looked down at her attacker, barely breathing covered in drying blood. Death was something she had become used to over the years. As a teenager she grew used to witnessing death due to her friendship with Harry Potter and the wizarding world being in turmoil.
Raising her wand, she whispered, "Avada Kedavra," meaning every word. She channeled every angry emotion; all the hate she had for Death Eaters and Voldemort into the curse. As the curse hit his body, it jerked; a sign that the soul was no longer present. She felt odd, almost liberated at her first kill in almost three years. Her emotions were wreaking havoc on her as she knew it wasn't normal to feel gleeful after murdering a person. Perhaps it was because he deserved it. Idly she wondered if her good feelings over her kill meant she deserved to die as well.
Walking into the room after hearing the little witch whisper the curse, Rabastan saw her rooted to the floor, unmoving.
"Little witch," he called, slowing moving toward her. She didn't move an inch and didn't respond.
"Little witch," he tried again. "Hermione!" Still nothing. He walked over to where the witch was standing and lifted her into his arms. He walked toward his room, not trusting her to cope by herself. As he was lowering her to the bed, she spoke.
"Bath," she croaked. He nodded and carried her to the bathroom. He set her down on the bathroom chair, unsure if she was able to stand on her own. After she continued to sit still, he realized she was probably going into shock and needed some help, fast.
"Milsey," he called. His elf appeared immediately, ready to serve her master.
"Master," she said, bowing. "What can Milsey do for you?" She looked curiously at Hermione, almost frightened for the witch.
"She's going into shock Milsey," he said quickly. "Fetch some potions." The elf apparated away immediately and Rabastan turned back to Hermione, concern etched on his face.
Knowing that loose clothing usually helped a person going into shock, he started peeling Hermione's clothes off and lowered her to the floor, elevating her feet. Milsey reappeared then, seemingly not shocked by the witch's state of undress.
"Here Master," Milsey said, shoving the potions into Rabastan's hands. Missy Hermione needs to swallow each of these. I hold her head; you give the potions." He was a little shocked by the elf giving orders, but he knew it was out of fear for the girl.
Rabastan's hands were shaking unable to uncork the vials by hands. Grabbing his discarded wand, he opened all of the vials simultaneously. He looked up into Hermione's face, and her eyes were fluttering, almost like she was going into a seizure-like state. He quickly focused on her lips, pushing them apart. One by one he administered the potions, assisting her swallowing by gently rubbing her throat.
The potions immediately took effect causing Hermione's eyes to flutter open. She groaned, unsure of what had just happened. Seeing Rabastan leaning over her and Milsey holding her head with both faces expressing concern, she knew it couldn't have been good. Moving to sit up, she paused.
"Uh, where are my clothes?" she asked, her face burning with embarrassment. She was clad in nothing but her bra and knickers. Rabastan coughed, obviously hiding his discomfort as well. He looked away, unable to hide the blush that crept up his neck any longer.
"Missy Hermione was in shock," the elf said, filling Hermione in. "Master Rabastan knew that loosening clothing helped those in shock." Rabastan nodded his head in agreement.
"Thank you Milsey. I think I am okay now," she whispered. The elf nodded and left the room with a pop. "Could I have a bath now?" She was still covered in the blood of Colin Mulciber, and she desperately needed to scrub it off. "I promise I am fine now," she said, dragging herself off the floor.
He looked at her questioningly, expressing concern for her wellbeing. Deciding she was okay enough to bathe without assistance, he moved toward the door. "Call if you need anything," he said, leaving the room to give her privacy.
Deciding a bath would leave her feeling even dirtier in her state, she turned on the shower. She desperately needed to rid her skin of the caked on blood underneath her fingernails, as well as the cloud of death that seemed to be hovering over her. Shedding her undergarments, she slid into the scalding water with a sigh. Taking the loofa around the tap, she scrubbed her skin red. She scrubbed so hard it almost looked as if she was sporting a rash once she was done. With the blood washed away, she started on her hair. Washing her hair, ridding it of blood and knots, she finally felt that she was clean enough to sleep for the night. She knew in the morning; she would feel the need to have another.
Getting out of the shower, she grabbed the towel on the edge of the counter. After drying off her body, she realized her robe was still in her own bathroom and walking through the manor again in just a towel was not an option. She saw Rabastan's robe hanging on the back of the door and took it off the hook. Slipping it over her shoulders it was a little baggy, but it would suffice for the time being. Running her hands through her hair in an attempt to rid it of knots, she found herself unsuccessful and gave it up as a lost cause. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the handle of the doorknob and walked into Rabastan's bedroom.
She laughed softly as she saw him perched up in bed, sporting reading glasses, deeply immersed in a book. Hearing her, he put away his book and took off his glasses. Moving toward her he asked, "How do you feel?"
"Fine," she replied. "Those potions definitely did their job. Now, I am just extremely exhausted." She said yawning. She moved to sit in the chair near the fire, Rabastan taking the seat opposite her.
"Well, we did have an eventful evening," he replied, crossing his legs.
"I meant to ask you about that. How did you explain your abrupt departure from your boys' night out?"
"I said I wasn't feeling well and then dashed out of the bar," he said, laughing. "The fact that this galleon was burning my skin and I kept groping at it, helped my story for sure."
She laughed with him. "Well, that was the point of them. In fifth year, we started an illegal defense group called Dumbledore's Army. Every member had one and would alert them of the time of the meetings. I needed everyone to be sure they wouldn't miss it."
"You're brilliant; you know?" She blushed at his compliment and stood up from the chair. "Well, I should be off to bed."
"I cleaned up your room as best I could, but if you'd like you can sleep here," Rabastan offered. She smiled and teased, "Not just trying to get me in your bed are you Rabastan?"
His face flushed but admitted that was not the case. "Honestly, after seeing you going into shock I am just a little worried about you," he said. "And Milsey has not yet had a chance to deep clean your room. The blood..."
"I'll stay here if it makes you feel better, Rabastan," she reasoned, interrupting him. "You are not useful to either of us if you stay up all night worrying."
Hermione hopped into bed, the robe still tightly wrapped around her body. "I need to shower still. I'll be right back." She watched him walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. She sighed and pulled the covers up to her chin, trying to get comfortable. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the night. She realized she forgot to ask Rabastan how Mulciber had found her in the first place, but figured it could wait until morning.
Before long, she felt Rabastan crawl beneath the sheets, the bed dipping with his weight. He pulled her to him, enveloping her in his strong arms, his breath hot on her neck. She cuddled up against him, loving the warmth he brought. She fell asleep immediately, dreaming of deaths she wouldn't be able to recall in the morning.
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