Scabior pushed the girl ahead of him towards the flap of his tent, shoving her roughly so she stumbled and fell to the dirty forest earth.
He pushed past her brusquely and reached for the tent flap, holding it open for her as he regarded her on the ground with no compassion. "After you, beautiful."
It was perhaps his emotion, or lack thereof that frightened her the most. Hermione stood on shaky legs and moved to tip her head back, nose in the air, but thought the better of it, and gingerly walked inside the tent, dejected. It was over. He had won. Harry and Ron were on their way to the Dark Lord and she was here with this man and his band of miscreants.
There was a large bed towards the back and a small table to the immediate right against one of the tent walls. A kitchen area with dishes strewn about was to the front left of the tent.
His boot made a sound as he entered behind her, and she tensed as she felt him close behind, following. Her heart began to speed well past it's acceptable limits.
As she turned around, she saw him slowly, deliberately remove his jacket and throw it to the floor as he began to back her into the small table, eyeing her all the while like a piece of meat. His mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes offered no mercy. She shuddered involuntarily. She knew instinctively he was a dangerous man, one she would have to exercise caution with. He was a brute, yes, yet he moved with a quiet menace that she found more unsettling than if he had been outwardly violent. She knew once he snapped, that would be the end.
Hermione's back met with the table and she let out a small squeak of surprise as she put her hands up in front of her to deter him. Her actions didn't stop his body from slowly advancing upon her much smaller form. There was nothing but cold in his eyes.
"Wait….wait…please," she started. He stilled for a moment, just a meter away, and tilted his head, almost imperceptibly to the side as if allowing her an unspoken permission to speak. She took a deep breath, lowered her eyes away from his and continued.
"I know-I understand that I am your captive, and that you mean to…to-," her voice trailed off as she swallowed a lump in her throat. His eyes watched the motion of her throat and he slowly took a deep breath, inhaling her scent from where he stood.
"…to…have me. In that way. I understand, and I won't fight you. I will ask one concession though…" she raised her eyes to his, shocked he hadn't interrupted her. She quickly cast her eyes downwards again and resumed.
"I am exhausted. I've obliviated my parents, my friends are on their way to the Dark Lord….everyone I know or love is…well, is lost to me. As I have never done…that before…I ask this one night to myself to rest." She took a breath and realized her heart was pounding violently in her rib cage, so much so that it must be visible. She was too afraid to raise her eyes. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears and she had to press her hand against her chest in an effort to still her racing heart.
No response. Thirty seconds, then a minute passed. Hermione raised her eyes to his slowly. They were as unyielding as ever. He didn't blink as he held her gaze, almost as if challenging her. Then, he turned his body as he kept his eyes trained on hers. He dropped her gaze and began to walk out of the tent. As he approached the entrance, he reached for the flap with his gloved hand and stopped. His back was to her for a long moment in which she didn't even dare to breathe and then he turned to her.
"If you try anything, I will kill you. Then, I will find your family, and your friends, and I will make each and every one of them suffer."
She nodded, signaling that she understood. Hermione swallowed again and her tongue darted out to wet her lip, a motion which his eyes followed with great intensity.
The heat in his gaze made her realize just how much he wanted to take her. She was terrified of it, of him, of the whole thing. She wanted to crawl out of her own skin. Her body began to tremble as he finally exited the tent.
The trembling stilled automatically and she suddenly burst into short-lived tears that seemed to stop almost as quickly as they began. Her nerves were so raw and distended from the last few days…weeks…
She felt a wave of dizziness threaten to overtake her as she registered the bed in her periphery and carefully moved towards it.
She didn't want to lay in the bed of a murderer, but she was so tired. So tired from everything, and so in need of rest. She had to still her mind, turn off her thoughts and take the time she needed for her aching body and soul.
As she lay upon the pillows, she smelled him. Had this been another situation that scent might have been comforting, but it was too intimate, too wild, too him. She turned to the side and curled up, pulling a threadbare blanket up to cover herself.
How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?
She pondered this and so many other things as she slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep.