Caught Spying
A/N- Chapter three discusses an important clarification regarding the character named Natalie Portmen in the story. It's essential to note that the character was named independently and without any intention of linking her to the actress Natalie Portman. The author [Me!] has emphasized that there was no prior consideration of the actress when creating this character, and thus, any resemblance is purely coincidental. The character Natalie Portmen in this book should not be associated with the actress in any way.
Chapter Three: Help Me, Save Me
As the water cascaded down her body, Hermione scrubbed frantically at her skin, trying to wash away the remnants of Malfoy's touch. The memories of what had just occurred flooded her mind, especially the pain and humiliation of being whipped. She couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face as she examined her bruised and battered body.
With trembling hands, she cautiously checked for broken bones, wincing at every ache and twinge. Her whole body felt raw and tender, a constant reminder of Malfoy's violence. Despite her desperation to rid herself of him, she couldn't bring herself to touch her back or lower parts, knowing they would only bring more pain.
The combination of hot water and vigorous scrubbing caused her skin to turn red and raw, but still, she couldn't shake off the feeling of his hands on her. A sense of despair filled her eyes as she stared blankly into space, feeling numb and lifeless.
Finally, after mustering all of her courage, she whispered to herself, "He raped me." And with those words spoken aloud, she couldn't stop repeating them.
"He raped me...he raped me...he raped me..."
The words tumbled out of her mouth in a never-ending mantra, each repetition sending a wave of anguish through her. Even when the water turned cold, and goosebumps covered her skin, she couldn't stop saying it.
Draco Malfoy dashed through the heavy green door of the Slytherin Common Room. The familiar scent of damp stone and the faint flicker of firelight welcomed him as he strode past the plush armchairs and serpentine decor. With determined steps, he bounded up the winding staircase leading to his dormitory, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and mischief.
As he reached his room, he paused to glance at himself in the wardrobe mirror, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. The reflection revealed the dimly lit second-floor hallway of Hogwarts, where two prefects strolled lazily, their wands casting soft glows against the ancient stone walls. Draco chuckled, shaking his head at the sight of the overzealous Gryffindors on duty, their vigilance amusingly misplaced.
However, his amusement faltered when a familiar voice cut through his thoughts, resonating with authority and expectation. He turned sharply to find his father, Lucius Malfoy, lounging casually on his bed, his aristocratic features illuminated by the warm light of the room. An air of impatience lingered around him, intensified by the firm set of his jaw.
"Father, it is done," Draco declared confidently, clasping his hands in front of him. "Now, all that's left is to wait and ensure that the Mudblood is pregnant."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "And how will you be able to know that?" he inquired, leaning forward slightly, his silver hair framing his sharp face in the flickering light.
With a proud smile, Draco gestured toward the enchanted mirror hanging just behind him. "I've enchanted this mirror to show me my Mudblood whenever I wish, wherever she may be," he replied, his tone hinting at arrogance. The mirror shimmered slightly, hinting at its newfound magic, and at that moment, Draco felt a surge of confidence; he was in control, and he would soon have everything he desired.
Lucius stood and approached his son, a tall man with a pointed face, icy grey eyes, and the carefully cultivated appearance of superiority that came naturally to those born of pure blood. He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, pride visible in his expression.
"I'm proud of you, son," he said, his voice low and firm. "You have done well in your mission."
Draco's chest swelled with a mixture of pride and relief. He had finally proven himself to his father and finally lived up to the expectations that had been placed upon him since birth. He knew that his father's words were worth more than gold in the Malfoy family, and he basked in the warmth of his praise.
"Now," Lucius continued, his voice turning steely, "I should report back to the Dark Lord. Floo me as soon as you find out that the Mudblood bitch is pregnant."
Draco nodded solemnly, knowing that this was only the beginning of his duty to the Dark Lord. His father left the room, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.
He looked into his mirror, catching a glimpse of Mudblood still in the shower, her blood running down her arms, stomach, and legs. The sight sent a shiver down Draco's spine, but at the same time, it ignited something primal within him. His thoughts turned dark as he spoke aloud to himself, unable to contain the twisted desires within him.
"When the Dark Lord wins this war," he said, a dangerous glint in his eye, "I might ask him if I can have you for a pet."
As Draco Malfoy leaned against the cool stone wall, observing the chaos around him, two Slytherin prefects made their rounds along the second floor, keeping a watchful eye on the vicinity of the girl's shower room. Their presence exuded an air of authority characteristic of their House, a blend of confidence and intimidation.
One of the girls, petite in stature, possessed a warm, lightly tanned complexion that contrasted with the pale gray walls of the castle. Her long, glossy brown hair cascaded down her back, swaying gently with her movements, framing a face that radiated determination and serenity. Bright emerald green eyes sparkled with a depth of intelligence and empathy, mirroring the vibrant hues of the Slytherin insignia emblazoned on her robes. This girl was none other than Natalie Portman.
Natalie was known for her sharp wit and intellect, qualities that had drawn her into an unexpected friendship with Hermione Granger during their fourth year. The bond blossomed when Hermione graciously assisted her in understanding some complicated charms homework that had left Natalie feeling overwhelmed. Despite their differences, their shared passion for learning forged a connection that stood strong amidst the prejudices that often surrounded them.
Though proud of her Slytherin heritage, Natalie felt a pang of frustration whenever she witnessed her peers mocking Hermione's Muggle-born status. She detested the cruelty of their remarks but felt powerless to intervene in the face of such deep-seated animosity within her own House. Torn between her loyalty and her principles, she often found herself caught in a struggle that left her wrestling with her conscience.
The other girl was Rose Greens, a medium-sized figure with a fair complexion that seemed almost luminous against the backdrop of the dimly lit Hogwarts corridors. Her short black hair framed her face, accentuating her piercing blue eyes that held both curiosity and a hint of mischief. During her fifth year at the school, she formed a close friendship with Natalie, a relationship that blossomed further when she also became friends with Hermione Granger. Rose found it particularly unsettling when her fellow Slytherins derided Hermione by calling her "Mudblood." Despite her discomfort, she felt powerless to intervene, caught between her loyalty to her house and her sense of justice.
"Rose, can you believe the mountain of homework assigned by the professors lately? Even Professor Snape has been relentless in piling it on!" Natalie exclaimed, her voice laced with frustration.
Rose rolled her eyes playfully, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Oh, I can believe it all too well. We are in our sixth year now, and with those honours classes, did you honestly expect it to be a walk in the park?" she teased, raising an eyebrow as she took in Natalie's exasperated expression.
Natalie sighed, her voice dropping to a quieter tone. "No, I suppose not. Still, it feels overwhelming sometimes," she admitted, glancing down the hallway as if the shadows could provide an escape from the weight of their studies.
The girls continued their conversation, shifting from the heavy burden of homework to more lighthearted topics, like the boys they had seen in the common room and the latest gossip circulating among their classmates. Laughter echoed softly as they navigated the corridors, their footsteps creating a rhythmic pattern on the old stone floor. Eventually, they arrived at the door to the girl's shower room, pausing briefly before entering, the warmth of camaraderie enveloping them like a comforting blanket amidst the pressures of their academic lives.
"Natalie, it's your turn. I handled the boys' shower room last time," Rose said, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
"Alright, I got this," Natalie replied confidently, flicking her wand and sending the door swinging open.
As she stepped inside, the warm mist greeted her, mingling with the sound of water cascading down. There was a sense of normalcy in the air, but it quickly vanished as she walked farther in. Her eyes darted to the farthest stall, where her gaze caught a horrifying sight—a dark, crimson stain marring the white tiles beneath.
Her heart raced as she approached the stall, dread pooling in her stomach. The figure curled on the floor came into focus, and an involuntary gasp escaped her lips. Hermione, usually so vibrant and full of life, lay there, battered and bruised, the severity of her injuries overwhelming.
"Rose! Get in here now!" Natalie shouted, her voice a mix of urgency and fear, as she quickly bent down to meet Hermione's gaze, searching for any sign of consciousness.
Moments later, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the room, and Rose burst through the door. Her eyes widened in horror at the scene before her; she rushed toward Natalie, her sharp intake of breath filled with disbelief and concern.
"Hermione, can you hear us? It's Natalie and Rose," Natalie urged softly, her voice laced with worry. She knelt by Hermione's side, trying to assess the extent of her injuries. She gently brushed some hair from Hermione's forehead, hoping for a response, even as panic tightened around her heart.
Hermione stared wide-eyed at Natalie and Rose, her heart racing with fear and desperation. "Natalie, Rose!" she cried out, the anguish in her voice palpable.
"Yes, Hermione, it's us," Rose replied gently, her tone soothing as she stepped closer. "Just breathe. Calm down."
Hermione struggled beneath the weight pressing down on her, feeling trapped and vulnerable. "Help me," she begged, her voice trembling. "I can't get him off of me."
Her voice grew sharper, filled with panic, as she shouted, "Let go of me!" The words echoed in the tense atmosphere, revealing the urgency of her situation.
Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks, her voice barely audible as she pleaded, "Please stop." In her mind, the brutal scene of assault and violence replayed on a constant loop, haunting her every thought.
The girls' gazes collide, fierce and determined. They nod in silent agreement, recognizing the horrific truth that has befallen their friend. Violent tremors course through their bodies as they grapple with the realization that someone has savagely violated and traumatized their beloved companion. Rage ignites within them, burning like a wildfire as they vow to seek justice for their dear friend's suffering.
"Rose, we need to act quickly. Go fetch Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore," Natalie urged, her voice tinged with urgency. Her heart raced as she glanced at Hermione, who lay on the floor, bruised and bleeding. The sight was harrowing, and Natalie felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Rose, her best friend, looked pale and shaken, her wide eyes reflecting the horror of the situation. The echo of their surroundings faded as they focused on helping Hermione, who needed immediate attention. Each second felt like an eternity as Natalie held Hermione's hand, desperately hoping for a swift return with help.
"I'll be back before you know it!" Rose exclaimed, her voice echoing with determination. She bolted out of the girls' bathroom in a whirlwind of energy and purpose.
Draco stood silently in the shadows, observing the scene unfold before him. He had seen the two prefects rush into the dimly lit corridor, their expressions shifting from surprise to alarm as they spotted Hermione crumpled on the ground. The moment their eyes widened in horror, he could sense the urgency propelling them forward. Their hands trembled as they knelt beside her, desperately trying to offer assistance.
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he muttered under his breath, "I never thought Slytherins would ever be friends with a Mudblood." The disdain laced in his voice was unmistakable, mingling with a hint of disbelief.
As he leaned against the cool stone wall, his gaze remained fixated on the large ornate mirror that reflected the vulnerable scene. He watched intently as the girls gently brushed Hermione's hair away from her face, their voices softly urging her to wake, a stark contrast to the rough camaraderie he was used to among his peers. It was a curious sight—one he found hard to reconcile with his views of loyalty and blood status. The irony of it all was not lost on him as he continued to study the tender care they showed toward his so-called "Mudblood," the discomfort brimming beneath his composed exterior.
Rose burst through the door, her heart racing with urgency as she dashed down the dimly lit corridor. The stone walls echoed her hurried footsteps, and she could feel the chill of the castle air wrapping around her. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she leapt down the staircase, skipping two or three steps with each bound, her long hair trailing behind her like a banner of determination.
As she reached the bottom, she skidded to a halt, peering anxiously down both ends of the hallway, hoping to spot Professor Dumbledore's familiar figure with his twinkling eyes and flowing robes. Her heart sank when she realized he was nowhere to be found, but then her gaze caught sight of Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the infirmary, bustling toward her with a look of concern.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Rose called out, breathing heavily as she approached.
Madam Pomfrey halted in her tracks, turning to face the young girl. "Yes, Miss Greens?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
"It's an emergency!" Rose exclaimed, her voice trembling as she struggled to catch her breath. "I need you and Professor Dumbledore right away!"
Without hesitation, Madam Pomfrey nodded solemnly, her expression shifting to one of focused concern. "Lead the way," she urged. The two of them hurried down the hall, determination written on their faces, as they began their search for the beloved professor.
After a brief, frantic search of the castle's winding corridors, they finally located Professor Dumbledore near the fireplace in the staff room, deep in conversation with another teacher. Rose's urgency cut through the air as she explained the situation, and Dumbledore, recognizing the gravity in her voice, prepared to follow them immediately.
Meanwhile, in a distant bathroom, Natalie turned off the cold water, which sent Hermione into a panic. Her breath quickened as she struggled to cope with the pain from her injuries. Just then, Rose and Madam Pomfrey entered, and Rose immediately took charge, her voice steady yet soothing. "Hermione, it's okay. I'm here now," she said, kneeling beside her friend.
With a gentle touch, she encouraged Hermione to lie down on the cool tiles, doing her best to calm her frayed nerves. "We're going to take care of you, I promise," Rose reassured her, ready to help examine the wounds that remained a testament to the chaos that had just unfolded.
Natalie's hand trembled as she lowered her wand, her eyes fixed on the shimmering words in the air. She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself for Hermione's sake. But how could she tell her friend this devastating news on top of everything else?
"What is it?" Hermione's voice was weak, barely above a whisper. "How bad?"
Natalie forced herself to meet Hermione's gaze, seeing the fear and pain etched in her friend's face. "I... I...," she said, her voice catching. "But Hermione, there's something else."
Hermione's eyes widened, a flicker of understanding passing through them. "No," she breathed, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. "Please, no. How can we know for sure?"
Tears welled up in Natalie's eyes as she nodded, confirming Hermione's worst fear. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, reaching out to take Hermione's hand. "The spell I used was created to find life even twenty minutes after the deed is done."
A sob escaped Hermione's lips, her body shaking with the force of her grief and anger. Natalie held her friend close, helpless to do anything but that.
"Miss Portman, what in the name of magic is happening here?" Professor Dumbledore inquired, his voice a mixture of concern and disbelief as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor.
Startled, Natalie Portman spun around so quickly that her long hair swirled like a dark curtain around her. She instinctively raised her wand, its tip flickering with a faint blue glow, aimed at the figure before her. It took only a moment for the shock to register, and she lowered her wand when she recognized the familiar figure of Professor Dumbledore, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey and her friend Rose.
"Professor…" Natalie began, her voice shaking slightly under the weight of the situation, but the words faltered. Instead, she stepped aside, allowing Dumbledore to approach the scene unfolding before them.
Meanwhile, Hermione lay on the cold stone floor, a pained expression etched on her face. With a soft whimper, she instinctively released her grip on Natalie's hand, succumbing to the haze of discomfort that engulfed her. In a rush of worry, Natalie quickly grabbed Hermione's hand again, squeezing it tightly in an attempt to lend her strength and reassurance.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight before him, and his usually calm demeanour momentarily shattered. He let out a sharp gasp, a stark contrast to his composed nature. Without missing a beat, he turned to Madam Pomfrey, urgency lacing his voice. "Poppy, please tend to Miss Granger immediately!" He gestured toward Hermione with a mixture of authority and desperation, knowing that the gravity of the situation demanded swift action.
"Miss Portman, assist Madam Pomfrey. Miss Greens, fetch Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Weasley. Bring them to the hospital wing immediately," Professor Dumbledore commanded, his voice heavy with concern as he surveyed the scene before him.
Natalie Portman, steeling her resolve with determination, quickly approached Madam Pomfrey, who was busy tending to a student in distress. Meanwhile, Rose Greens dashed towards the Gryffindor Common Room, her heart racing with urgency. She whispered the perfect password to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who swung open with a creak. This allowed Rose to step inside the familiar, warm atmosphere filled with the lively noises of her fellow students.
Inside, she spotted Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Ginny Weasley huddled around a chessboard. Their brows furrowed in concentration as they battled it out on the wooden board. The hustle and bustle of the common room faded as she approached them, and urgency was palpable in her demeanour.
"Potter, Weasley, and Ginny," she demanded, her voice firm yet edged with an undercurrent of panic. "You three have to come with me to the hospital wing right now. It's important—please and thank you."
Ron glanced up, a mixture of confusion and annoyance flashing across his face as he responded, "Why should we go with you? We're in the middle of a game here."
Without hesitation, Rose's voice rose, cutting through the nonchalance. "Weasley, now!" she yelled, her tone leaving no room for argument.
With heavy sighs and reluctant expressions, the trio finally conceded and stood up, abandoning their game. The four of them began to trek down the stone corridors in silence, the weight of the situation hanging in the air. Ginny, her curiosity piqued, finally broke the silence.
"Rose, you're Hermione's Slytherin friend, aren't you? What do you need with us?"
"Yes, I'm Hermione's friend," Rose replied, deliberately steering the conversation away from Ginny's behind-the-scenes observations.
As they approached the hospital wing, the familiar scent of antiseptic and faintly lingering herbs filled the air, a stark contrast to the noise and energy of the Gryffindor Common Room. Within moments, they found themselves standing before the imposing wooden doors, the unsettling sound of quiet activity emanating from within. They were ready to face whatever awaited them inside.
Draco Malfoy leaned back, a smirk creeping across his face. Thanks to the whispers of Hermione's Slytherin acquaintances, he had acquired confirmation of a secret that sent adrenaline coursing through his veins: she was pregnant. The weight of this information bore heavily on his mind, and he understood the urgency of the situation. He needed to relay this revelation to the Dark Lord without Delay.
Drawing a deep breath, he retrieved a piece of parchment, the surface smooth and pristine. His quill scratched against the paper, weaving his words with precision and care. Each stroke of ink felt like a binding contract, sealing not only information but also fate. Once satisfied, he meticulously tied the note to the leg of his owl, a sturdy creature named Beast, whose penetrating gaze seemed to understand the importance of the task at hand.
"Beast, I need you to deliver this swiftly," Draco instructed, the weight of authority in his voice. "But stay close—I'll be back home shortly." With a flutter of its wings, the owl took off into the dimming sky, its silhouette swallowed by the encroaching dusk.
Turning away from the window, Draco glanced at the mirror reflecting the scene in the hospital wing. There, Madam Pomfrey was gently laying Hermione Granger on the hospital bed. Her calm and professional demeanour contrasted sharply with the turmoil swirling within him. As he observed her, he couldn't help but let his mind wander, recalling his earlier encounters with Hermione—the way she challenged him sparked a fire in him, and even now lay there vulnerable.
A thrill coursed through him, pulsating with raw anticipation. He couldn't shake the image of what was to come, feeling an unsettling mix of desire and ambition swell in his lower regions. He knew that the next time they met, the dynamic would shift dramatically, and he relished the thought of bending her to his will. The sense of power over her, intertwined with the knowledge of her condition, promised to be intoxicating.
Professor Dumbledore, with his silver hair gleaming in the dim light, hurried Madam Pomfrey and Rose down the corridors of Hogwarts. The urgency was etched on their faces as they rushed Hermione to the hospital wing for treatment. The air was thick with tension as they pushed open the heavy wooden door, revealing the familiar sight of beds draped in white linens and a multitude of healing potions lined up on the shelves.
Inside, they were met by Professors Snape and McGonagall, who stood in shock at the scene before them. Snape's usual pallor had taken on a ghastly shade of green, while McGonagall's face was a stark white, betraying her distress over Hermione's condition.
"Albus, what's happened?" McGonagall exclaimed, her voice shaky as she stepped closer, her eyes darting between the injured student and the worried adults surrounding her. Dumbledore's brow furrowed, filled with concern as he prepared to explain the circumstances that led them to this moment.
Natalie suddenly cried out, "Hermione has been raped, and she's covered in cuts and bruises!"
Madam Pomfrey was already diligently working on healing Hermione's numerous fractures, deep cuts, and painful bruises. The familiar scent of healing potions filled the air as she applied a soothing salve to Hermione's injuries. However, despite her skill and determination, there was little she could do to mend the young woman's traumatized mind or address the sensitive matter of her pregnancy until Hermione was stable enough to communicate effectively.
Suddenly, the heavy door to the hospital wing swung open with a loud crash, startling Madam Pomfrey. Miss Greens, along with Hermione's closest friends, tumbled through the threshold, concern etched on their faces.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, panic rising in his voice as he rushed to her side. His heart raced as he saw his injured friend lying pale and still. Harry and Ginny hurried to join him, their expressions a mix of worry and determination to be there for Hermione. The two Slytherins, having followed closely behind, hesitated for a moment before choosing to stand on the opposite side of the bed, their presence somehow adding to the tension in the room.
"Albus," Professor Snape said, his voice a low growl filled with urgency. "The Dark Lord had only just informed me of his insidious plans for Miss Granger. I made my way back to Hogwarts with all possible haste." His dark eyes flickered toward the girl in the hospital bed, filled with a mix of regret and sorrow. Sighing deeply, he continued, "But alas, I fear I was too late."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken fears and unresolved issues. Each person grappled with the weight of what had transpired and what lay ahead.
A/N: Exciting news! Once again, we've made some fantastic improvements, and I can't wait for you to check it out. Looking forward to your thoughts. Take care!
Spell Translation for this chapter:
Pregnante means – Pregnant