Friday – December 11, 1998
The war was over, and Voldemort won. Everyone knew it after the death of Harry Potter. Hermione stood before the newly formed court with a magical inhibitor around her wrist to suppress her so-called stolen magic. Of course, the kangaroo court declared she would be sent to Azkaban for the 'crime' of stealing magic.
She noticed Ron wasn't there. She couldn't ignore the fear that he might have suffered the same fate as Harry. Though nobody had mentioned him, and surely the Death Eaters wouldn't lose the opportunity to add insult to injury and brag if they had killed a friend of hers... right? She hoped that meant Ron escaped and was still at large.
"My lord, if I may," Antonin Dolohov spoke out. "May I have this one. I could use a test subject for some of my newer spells and besides, I think she is very beautiful, and I would like to get to know her a bit better if you know what I mean."
Laughter was heard throughout the court. As for Hermione, she wanted to cry. She knew what he meant. He intended to rape her and probably torture her as well. She began to regret not listening to Ron and simply killing him back when she had the chance at Luchino Caffe.
"My Lord," Thorfinn Rowle addressed Voldemort. "She isn't just your ordinary thief of magic. She was Potter's best friend. She deserves a special punishment, and I am sure Dolohov will punish her much worse than the dementors will. I think you should grant his request."
Hermione glared at them with a bit of a scowl on her face. Dolohov smiled back at her with a smirk plastered across his face and signs of laughter in his eyes.
"Request granted," Voldemort agreed, then in an ominous voice he declared "And she better not escape."
Somehow this gave Hermione a sense of satisfaction. The tone of Voldemort's voice made it clear that if she did escape, Dolohov would be in big trouble, possibly facing Azkaban or death himself. Now, she was the one with a smirk on her face and a determination to escape.
Once the hearing was over, Antonin escorted Hermione out of the courts rather forcefully. She wasted no time trying to escape. She managed to slip out of his grasp and began to run. Not surprisingly, he simply shot her in the back with a sleeping spell.
Even in sleep, her mind remained active, filled with horrifying visions of what is to come, the torture curse, getting raped repeatably and reports of Ron's death. She expected to wake up finding most of her clothing removed, chained to a wall, or locked in a cage. Once she did start to come through, she had no idea where she was. She could hear Dolohov and Rowle talking.
Hermione tossed and turned to assess her situation. She did her best to pretend to still be asleep so she could eavesdrop on their conversation. She was still fully clothed and resting on a very comfortable couch. This failed to give her any solace. She simply assumed they hadn't started yet. Probably not fun enough for them without her screaming.
"As long as she has the inhibitor on, it shouldn't be that hard to keep her here," Dolohov said.
"Agreed. Well, you could always take the sword of Gryffindor and use it to cut her feet off, so she can't run," Rowle suggested with a laugh.
"Sure, I could do that," Dolohov laughed too. "I think I will wait for spring though. April thirty first sounds about right."
"Perfect," Rowle laughed. "The same date we take turns screwing her." His laughter got even louder.
"Yeah, exactly," Dolohov chuckled.
Hermione couldn't help thinking they were both morons and she also realized she needed to escape and fast. Her eyes open only a crack just enough to see Rowle open a door that clearly led outside before leaving himself.
She listened as she heard footsteps getting further away from her. Yes, Dolohov left for another part of the house. This was her chance.
Hermione's heart pounded in her chest as she burst through the creaking door, her breath visible in the frigid air. Fear gripped her, propelling her into the merciless night. The biting wind cut through her thin clothing, sending shivers down her spine. She stumbled through the knee-deep snow, the vast expanse of the forest stretching out before her.
The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the snow-covered trees, their branches heavy with the weight of winter. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as the realization set in—there was no other shelter in sight. The forest loomed like a silent sentinel, indifferent to her plight.
As she trudged deeper into the heart of the woods, the bitter cold gnawed at her extremities. Her steps became hesitant, each footfall a struggle against the numbing cold. The snow betrayed her, causing her to slip and fall, the icy ground unforgiving beneath her.
Frost began to creep into her very bones, and panic set in. Hermione could feel the effects of the cold tightening its grip on her, threatening to steal away her warmth. Desperation overtook her as she contemplated the harsh reality—she might succumb to frostbite if she lingered in this unforgiving wilderness.
Reluctantly, she turned back, retracing her frozen footsteps. The house loomed in the distance, its windows like vacant eyes watching her return. The Death Eater within seemed almost preferable to the icy grasp of the forest. With each step closer to the threshold, Hermione felt the weight of her decision settling over her—a choice between the devil she knew and the frigid unknown that had nearly claimed her.
If it were true that Dolohov found her attractive, she just might have to play that card against him as a distraction. She couldn't use her magic, so she would have to do this the muggle way.
Antonin laughed as she came back in. He removed his winter coat and took off his gloves. "I knew you wouldn't get far," he said slowly. Her whole body shook as she shivered. "Scared?" he asked with an odd concern evident in his voice.
"No!" Hermione's heart pounded even faster while shivers continued to plague her. "J-just c-cold. Freezing."
"Oh, I can fix that," Antonin declared with a bit of arrogance and over confidence. The tip of his wand sparked up with fire.
"No, please," Hermione pleaded, fearing his intent was to set her on fire. Just maybe it was a mistake. She might have been better off facing the cold instead.
Antonin snickered with a roll of his eyes. Then he tossed that flame jet directly at some logs already nicely arranged in a fireplace, which ignited quickly and radiated a warm and inviting glow.
"Oh," Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
Antonin slid a large plush chair with fluffy cushions closer to the fire. "Sit down and relax. I insist," he commanded.
Hermione disliked being ordered around, but at least for now, she did as he asked. Next, he conjured up a cashmere blanket and draped it around her body. The super soft feel of the blanket gently caressed Hermione's skin. She couldn't help herself. There was no doubt about it, this was much nicer than being out in that bitter cold. Apparently, Antonin wasn't through being nice. He put down a cup of hot chocolate topped with extra marshmallows and whipped cream on a small end table next to her.
He was being so nice, but why? Maybe his plan wasn't to rape or torture after all. Could he be going for seduction? No, she heard the plans he made with his friend, so that can't be. "I am really confused," Hermione said. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Oh, you mean the crap I told the dark lord. Yeah, ignore that. Glad I was convincing, but it was nothing but a pack of lies. I certainly won't be using you as a guinea pig or a sex slave. Nothing like that."
"Oh, I would take more comfort in that if I actually believed you." Hermione shivered. "I think you are more likely to lie to me, than you are to lie to the dark lord."
"I lied to the dark lord because he never would have let me take you if I told him the truth," Antonin admitted. "He probably would have had you killed or worse sent to Azkaban."
"So, you are telling me I should be grateful for being made a prisoner in your house," Hermione scoffed. She couldn't help being thankful for the super soft blanket and the warm fire. As good as that hot chocolate looked and smelled, she refused to even try it. For all she knew, it was laced with a potion of some sort.
"Not at all. I am the one who is grateful. You may have erased my memory, but you forgot to erase the security footage at the Café. Thorfinn and I both saw it, so we know exactly what happened. Even though you probably should have, especially in my case, you didn't allow your friends to kill us, so, I am not allowing my friends to harm you," Antonin declared with utter sincerity in his voice.
Despite the sincerity in his voice Hermione still didn't believe him, but she pretended she did. She especially wanted to know once and for all if he had any attraction to her. Was this something she could use to get him to lower his guard? "I should have known you were lying. I mean, me, very beautiful. Yeah, right," Hermione said.
"Oh, no, that is the one thing I did tell the truth about. You are very beautiful. If I were about 20 years younger, yeah, I would probably be head over heels in love." He paused, realizing how creepy this might sound to her.
Hermione briefly looked him in the eye. To her, age was the least of the problems with this. She remembered her crush on Lockhart and couldn't deny that Antonin was even better looking, but he was also a servant of Voldemort, a death eater, and a murderer that once tried to kill her, so she would never be interested.
"As far as the getting to know you better bit, I definitely won't be doing what I was implying. I probably won't be getting to know you better at all, even in an innocent way. Nothing personal, I just don't have the time for it. I have a little project of my own I need to focus on. And that reminds me, if you have plans of trying to escape again, I recommend you at least wait till spring."
The pins and needle sensation racing through her feet vividly reminded her of the threat of having them chopped off. "Before or after you cut off my feet, so I can't run?" Hermione asked without thinking.
"You heard that?" Antonin chuckled with just a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. Hermione nodded with a look of disdain on her face. "We thought you were still sleeping. Thorfinn and I were just kidding. We didn't mean it."
"Do you really expect me to believe that?"
"Let me ask you this. Do you think either of us could effectively use the Sword of Gryffindor?" Antonin shook his head no. "And did you realize something odd about the date we picked?"
"No, I don't think you could. And April 31st, a date that doesn't exist," Hermione retorted and then paused for a second, "Oh, I just assumed… Never mind." She didn't realize these obvious flaws in their scheme were deliberate, but she also realized it was best not to tell him she just dismissed it all to the fact that they were both idiots.
"Like I said it was a joke," Antonin informed her.
"I see." Hermione nodded, as the cold feelings left her body, she started to warm up to the possibility that Antonin wasn't lying to her. "So, what do you plan to do with me?" She bit her lip, realizing the question came out unintentionally flirty in nature.
"My original plan was to simply let you go, but after Voldy's threat, I realize I must keep you here, at least for now. Once I finish my project, the dark lord will no longer be a factor. After that, I will let you go."
"What do you mean the dark lord will no longer be a factor?" Hermione's mind raced with all the possible meanings for that. Was he planning a takeover?
"Fun question. Are you going to drink that hot chocolate?" Antonin asked eerily, matching her earlier flirtatious tone.
Author's note – I am uncertain if I will make this a longer multi-chapter story or will keep it a one shot. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks in advance.
This fic was inspired by the first chapter of Dolohov by NeonDomino. If you want to read that, it is on my favorites list.