Tormented Shadows
The hallways of the Ministry echoed with shouts, flashes of spellfire, and the sickening sound of bodies colliding. Hermione's breath came in ragged gasps as she ducked and weaved through the chaos, wand moving in a blur. But the moment she turned a corner, a burst of red light hit her square in the chest, knocking her wand from her grasp and sending her sprawling backward.
Before she could recover, rough hands seized her hair, yanking her head back painfully. She cried out, her vision blurring with pain as Bellatrix Lestrange's wild, laughing face loomed above her.
"Found you,Mudblood," Bellatrix purred, her voice dripping with malevolent glee.
Hermione struggled, thrashing wildly as Bellatrix dragged her down the hall, her fingers tangled cruelly in Hermione's hair. The sharp tugging sent pain lancing through her scalp, hot and searing. She tried to twist free, to kick and claw at Bellatrix, but the older witch was merciless, her grip unyielding.
"Get off me!" Hermione screamed, reaching desperately for her wand, which lay just out of reach. But Bellatrix yanked harder, dragging her roughly across the cold stone floor, and Hermione's scalp felt like it was being torn from her skull. Blood trickled down her forehead, mixing with sweat and grime, and her vision swam.
"Not so brave now, are we, little girl?" Bellatrix sneered, her eyes gleaming with twisted delight. "Let's see how much fight you have left when I'm done with you."
The next second, Hermione was thrown against the wall, her body crumpling painfully as she hit the unyielding surface. She gasped, the breath knocked from her lungs, and before she could even think to defend herself, Bellatrix was on top of her, pressing her down with a knee to her chest.
"You filthyMudbloodsalways think you're so clever," Bellatrix hissed, leaning close. Her breath was hot and rancid against Hermione's face. "Always meddling where you don't belong, thinking you're equals. But you'lllearn, girl. I'll make youlearn."
Hermione struggled, kicking out desperately, but Bellatrix just laughed—a high, shrill sound that echoed down the empty hall. Then, with a vicious yank, she ripped a blade from the folds of her robes—a long, wickedly curved knife that gleamed in the dim light.
"Let's take a peak at what I did last time, shall we?" Bellatrix whispered, her eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.
"No!" Hermione choked out, horror rising in her chest as she fought desperately against Bellatrix's iron grip. But the older witch just smirked, holding the blade aloft.
"Hold still, darling," Bellatrix crooned mockingly. "This won't take long."
With a sharp, precise movement, she brought the blade down, pressing it into Hermione's arm. Pain exploded through Hermione's body, white-hot and searing, as the blade carved into her skin. She bit back a scream, her entire body convulsing as Bellatrix's sadistic smile widened.
"Let's start withMud," Bellatrix murmured, her voice a twisted parody of gentleness. "It's fitting, isn't it? The filth that runs in your veins…"
Hermione's vision blurred with tears as Bellatrix carved the first jagged letter into her arm, the blade slicing through flesh and muscle. She could feel the blood welling up, warm and slick, dripping down her arm and pooling on the floor. She struggled, trying to twist away, but Bellatrix's knee pressed down harder, pinning her in place.
"Stop—please—" she gasped, her voice breaking.
"Begging already, are we?" Bellatrix taunted, her eyes dancing with cruel amusement. "Pathetic. I thought you were supposed to be the clever one."
And then the pain intensified—a thousand times worse than before—as Bellatrix raised her wand.
"Crucio," she whispered.
The world exploded into agony.
Hermione screamed, the sound raw and broken, as the curse tore through her body. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, every muscle seizing and spasming uncontrollably. She was dimly aware of Bellatrix's laughter, high and shrill and filled with manic glee, but the pain blotted out everything else. It was all-encompassing, a white-hot torrent that drowned out thought and reason and left her gasping, sobbing.
"Do you feel that, Mudblood?" Bellatrix purred, her voice a sweet, mocking lilt. "That's the power ofpuremagic. That's what you'll never have. You're nothing—nothing."
The curse lifted, but the pain lingered, throbbing dully in her bones. Hermione lay panting, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling uncontrollably. She could feel blood seeping from the wound on her arm, mingling with the sweat and grime that coated her skin. Her vision swam, the edges blurring in and out of focus.
"Now, where were we?" Bellatrix mused, twirling the blade idly in her hand. "Ah, yes.Mudblood."
She brought the knife down again, the blade biting deep into Hermione's flesh. Hermione jerked, a strangled cry escaping her lips as Bellatrix carved another jagged letter into her skin. The pain was unbearable, a red-hot brand that seared through her body, but she couldn't move, couldn't fight. She was pinned, helpless, trapped beneath Bellatrix's weight and cruelty.
"Don't—please—stop—" she begged, her voice hoarse and broken.
"Shh, shh, shh," Bellatrix cooed mockingly, leaning close. "Don't worry, darling. We're almost done."
Hermione's breath hitched as Bellatrix carved the final letter, the blade sinking deep, and she bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood. But even as the pain surged, even as the world narrowed to the burning, throbbing agony in her arm, a spark of defiance flared in her chest.
This wasn't the end. Shewouldn'tlet it be the end.
She was stronger than this. Stronger than Bellatrix. She just had to hold on—just a little longer.
"Done," Bellatrix breathed, her voice a sickening purr of satisfaction.
She leaned back, admiring her handiwork with a twisted smile. Hermione blinked up at her, her vision hazy, her body trembling with pain and exhaustion. She could see the word already, carved deep into her skin, had been cut open again, the letters ragged and bloody.
"Mudblood," Bellatrix whispered, tracing the letters with the tip of her wand. "I think we needed to freshen it up, don't you think?"
Hermione didn't answer. She couldn't. Her body was a mass of pain, her mind a swirling haze of agony and rage.
But she would remember this. She would remember every letter Bellatrix cut and recut, every word, every moment.
And one day, she would make Bellatrix pay.
With every ounce of strength she had left, Hermione glared up at the woman who had hurt her, who had tortured and mocked and tried to break her.
"I'll kill you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll—kill—you."
Bellatrix's smile widened, her eyes alight with twisted glee. "Oh, I'dloveto see you try, darling," she murmured, leaning close.
Then she raised her wand again, her smile widening.
"Crucio."
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Draco sprinted down the hallway, heart pounding as he searched frantically for Hermione. He had seen the flash of red light, seen her fall, and then she was gone—dragged away by the woman who had haunted his nightmares for as long as he could remember. And now, as he rounded the corner, he saw her: Hermione pinned beneath Bellatrix Lestrange, blood streaking her face, her body convulsing in pain.
"Hermione!" Draco shouted, his voice a raw, desperate cry.
Bellatrix looked up, her lips curling into a delighted smile as she saw him. "Ah,Draco," she purred, her wand still pressed to Hermione's trembling form. "Come to join the fun, have you?"
But Draco didn't hesitate. With a furious wave of his wand, he disarmed Bellatrix, sending the cursed knife skittering across the floor. He surged forward, wrenching Hermione from Bellatrix's grasp and pulling her into his arms.
"Get away from her!" he roared, his wand leveled at Bellatrix's heart.
For a moment, Bellatrix's eyes widened in surprise. But then, that horrible smile returned, twisting her features into something grotesque.
"Oh, poor littleDraco," she cooed mockingly, as if he were a child throwing a tantrum. "Playing the hero now, are we? What would your father say?"
Draco's grip on his wand tightened, his knuckles turning white. "He'sdead, and so will you be if you touch her again."
Bellatrix laughed, a high, unhinged sound that sent a shiver down Draco's spine. But he didn't back down. He stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Hermione, who was gasping for breath, her body shuddering with pain. He could feel her trembling against him, her blood soaking into his robes, and something inside him snapped.
"Put your wand down," he snarled, voice low and deadly. "Now."
But Bellatrix just tilted her head, her gaze flicking from Draco to Hermione and back again. Then, with a sudden, vicious movement, she spun on her heel, raising her wand.
Draco barely had time to react before the curse hit him like a hammer. Silver chains erupted from thin air, wrapping around his wrists and yanking him off his feet. He struggled, thrashing wildly, but the chains tightened, dragging him upward until he was hanging from the ceiling, his wrists bound and his body suspended in midair.
"No—no, no, no!" Draco choked out, his heart hammering wildly as he dangled helplessly above the floor, staring down at Bellatrix in horror. "Let her go—don't touch her—"
But Bellatrix just smirked, her eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. She flicked her wand, and a gag appeared, cutting off Draco's desperate pleas. He struggled, jerking violently against the chains, but they held firm, biting into his wrists as he watched in helpless terror.
"Now, now, Draco," Bellatrix crooned, turning her attention back to Hermione. "Didn't your father teach you any manners? I'm not done with the littleMudbloodyet."
She lifted Hermione roughly by the hair, dragging her to her feet. Hermione cried out, her face twisted in pain, but she didn't back down. She glared up at Bellatrix, defiance burning in her tear-filled eyes.
"Go ahead," she spat, voice shaking. "Do your worst."
"Oh, I intend to," Bellatrix whispered, her smile widening. Then she pressed her wand to Hermione's throat.
Draco's heart stopped.
"No!" he tried to scream, but the gag muffled his voice. He could only watch in helpless horror as Bellatrix's smile widened, as Hermione's eyes widened in terror.
"Crucio."
The curse hit Hermione like a tidal wave, and she screamed—a raw, anguished sound that tore through Draco's chest like a blade. She convulsed, her body arching painfully as the curse ripped through her. Draco could see the agony in her face, see the way her muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and he struggled violently against his bonds, desperate to reach her, todo something.
But he couldn't. He was trapped, bound and gagged and utterly powerless, forced to watch as the woman he loved was tortured before his eyes.
"Hermione!" he tried to shout, his voice muffled and garbled. "Please—please—stop—"
But Bellatrix just laughed, a high, cruel sound that echoed in the empty hall. She lifted her wand, only to bring it down again, and Hermione screamed—again and again, each cry more broken, more agonized than the last.
"Hurts, doesn't it, Mudblood?" Bellatrix murmured, her voice a soft, vicious croon. "I want you to remember this. I want you to remember who did this to you."
"D—Draco," Hermione gasped, her voice a shattered whisper. "Help—please—Draco—"
Draco's heart shattered. He pulled against the chains, every muscle straining with the effort, but it was useless. He was stuck, trapped, watching helplessly as Bellatrix tortured Hermione, as she screamed and begged and cried for him to help her.
"Please—no more—please," Hermione sobbed, her body convulsing uncontrollably. "Draco—please—"
But he couldn't. He could only watch, his eyes wide with horror, as Bellatrix's smile widened, as she leaned close, her voice a soft, sweet whisper.
"No one's coming to save you, Mudblood," she murmured. "Not even your precious little traitor. He's just as useless as the rest of your pathetic Order."
Hermione's breath hitched, her body shuddering violently as Bellatrix tightened her grip, the curse still coursing through her veins. Her eyes flicked up to Draco's, wide and filled with pain and fear and something else—something that broke him all over again.
"I—love you," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "I—I—"
"Enough," Bellatrix snapped, cutting her off with a vicious twist of her wand.
Hermione screamed again, the sound raw and broken and filled with agony. Draco thrashed, his vision blurring with rage and terror and helpless, impotent fury.
He couldn't lose her. Hecouldn't.
But he was shackled and gagged, suspended in midair, forced to watch as Bellatrix tortured Hermione, as she tore her apart piece by piece, until there was nothing left.