Tribute for marsdeafaden
Title: Tribute
Author: uniquepov
Recipient: marsdeafaden
Pairing(s): Lucius/Hermione, Death Eaters/Hermione
Word Count: ~4,900
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-con, violence, torture
Summary: Hermione is captured by Lucius Malfoy during a battle with the Order.
Author's Notes: I would like to thank my beta for all her help, and the recipient for the prompts. I didn’t quite manage everything you requested, but I hope you enjoy it!
***
The last thing she remembered of the battle was a flash of red, a fire of blinding pain and then sinking into blissful oblivion.
She awoke shivering on a cold stone floor. The world spun as she tried to sit up, the motion hampered by stark metal chains. Her hands shook as she pulled at the manacles around her wrists and ankles, connected to a single eyebolt buried in the floor by stout lengths of chain. A shorter chain attached the metal collar around her neck to the same bolt. Hermione ran through every wandless spell she knew that might have freed her, and when those failed she resorted to tugging at the joints in the chains with her bare hands.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the darkness and she scrabbled as far from the door as the chains would allow. The door swung open and the familiar flash of red light came hard on the heels of a hissed Crucio! as Hermione’s world went black once more.
Lucius smirked as he stood over her prone figure. The war might have still been raging, but perhaps there was a chance for some fun, after all.
***
Judging by the gnawing hunger in the pit of her stomach, Hermione guessed she’d been in the dungeons for three, possibly four days. She was never awake for long before Malfoy would appear to Crucio her into unconsciousness once more.
The door clanged as it bounced against the opposite wall. Lucius stalked in and conjured a goblet with a careless flick of his wand.
“Auguamenti,” he drawled. “Drink, Miss Granger.”
She stared at him defiantly, her voice raspy as she spat out, “As if I’d drink anything from you, Malfoy.” He had the nerve to chuckle.
“If you continue to refuse, I will force you to drink it. You are dehydrated and, as I have plans for you, it would be… inconvenient for you to die too soon.”
“Well, far be it from me to inconvenience the great Lucius Malfoy,” she managed to sneer, picking up the goblet and hurling it at his head. Lucius clucked his tongue as he looked at her, shaking his head.
“Very well then, I can see we’re going to have to do things… the hard way,” he said in a sorrowful tone.
Standing over her, he pointed his wand and smiled as he said, “Imperio!”
She could feel her eyes glaze as her conscious mind fought the overwhelming urge to obey completely.
Lucius smiled at her wide glassy eyes and furrowed brow. The Mudblood was fighting it. Unsurprising, really. Bloody Gryffindors. He sighed as he restored the goblet of water to its original place beside his captive.
“You will drink this. Now.”
Her face was blank, her eyes wide, as she picked up the goblet with shaking hands and drank. He smiled once again.
“That’s more like it,” he almost purred. Hermione’s mind screamed within her as he circled her kneeling form with predatory strides. “Now then, time to teach you a few… lessons,” he murmured.
“I’m sure you’ve already realized that you are aware of what you’re doing, even under the Imperius Curse. You can’t fight it, so you might as well save your strength.” As he spoke, he suddenly pushed her forward, with the sole of his shoe hard and cold against her back; the pressure was unrelenting until her face and shoulders were pinned to the floor. Her conscious mind was screaming again about the vulnerability of her position, arse slightly in the air, and she tried to push backwards onto her knees again as soon as the pressure on her back was removed.
“Do not move,” he snarled coldly.
The Imperius Curse locked her muscles in place at his command. Her mind was shrieking so loudly now that Hermione could barely hear Lucius above the din. He stalked around her slowly before lashing out with his foot to catch her in the midsection. She was knocked several feet from the blow and landed in a gasping heap on her side.
“Imperio!” Lucius said again, a snarl on his lips. “On your knees, Mudblood.”
Hermione struggled to her knees, tears in her eyes from what felt like broken ribs. Lucius stared at her impassively as he cast several rapid fire Cruciatus Curses. Hermione was conscious of screaming and only belatedly realized it was coming from her own lips. After what seemed like an eternity, Lucius released the spells holding her and she collapsed, curling into a fetal position on the floor of the cell.
“Lesson One: Obedience,” he drawled. “When I speak, you listen and obey, or you will suffer.” Hermione lifted her head and, summoning reserves of strength she hadn’t known she had, glared at him from the floor.
“Fuck you, Malfoy,” she spat at him, struggling to push herself into a sitting position with trembling limbs.
Lucius stared at her, lip curling.
“Interesting…” he said quietly, circling the room. “Well, if you insist. Imperio!” She could feel the magical compulsion washing over her once again. “Get on your knees, you Mudblood whore.” Hermione’s mind screamed at her as her limbs obeyed the order, struggling to kneel up on the cold stone floor. Lucius stepped forward and unfastened his trousers, releasing his semi-erect cock. Hermione’s eyes widened as he stepped closer to her. Lucius reached down and stroked himself, taking only a few strokes to bring himself fully erect. He twirled his wand in his hand before pointing it at Hermione.
“Crucio!” he said cruelly, stepping even closer as she cried out, her body convulsing. He smiled as he pushed himself between her lips, choking her as her body was released from the Cruciatus. Before her mind or her body could process what was happening, Lucius had cast an Imperius over her once more.
“Now then, why don’t you use that mouth for something more appropriate?” he asked, holding the back of her head, keeping himself deep inside her. He gasped as he felt the tip of his cock brush the back of her throat. “Suck me.”
The curse pushed her to bob her head along the shaft, even as her mind shouted at her to STOP! Lucius gave a low groan and thrust his cock into her mouth, his hand still fisted in the hair at the nape of her neck.
“That’s right, whore. This is what you were made for,” he snarled. He forced himself deeper inside her, savouring the feeling of her throat spasming against him as he triggered her gag reflex. He pulled her head forward and held her there, biting back a moan as she struggled to breathe. He let go of the back of her head and she came up quickly, gasping for air. Lucius wrapped her hair around his hand again and hauled her upward, bending down until his lips touched her ear.
“Has Lesson One …sunk in yet?” he whispered, breath hot against the side of her face. She shivered at the sensation, but turned her head to meet his eyes fully.
“Not… yet…” she said, managing to infuse her shaky tone with a touch of defiance. “You’ll have to… try harder.”
Lucius’ eyes widened and he took a step backward, yanking her forward by her hair as he did.
“You… intrigue me, Miss Granger,” he said finally. “Most witches would be begging for mercy in your position.” Hermione managed a short bark of laughter.
“Would it… do me any good… if I begged, Malfoy?” she said bitterly, still struggling to catch her breath. “Or would you simply… enjoy this even more?” Lucius chuckled.
“It would seem you are not as naïve as you appear,” he conceded. “It’s true that what I have planned for you will happen regardless.” He moved closer, so that his erect member was again inches from her face. “Shall we continue this the easy way?” She stared up at him in contempt.
“By all means,” she said, moving her head forward. Seconds before her teeth snapped down on his erection, he hit her with another Imperius curse.
“Suck,” he commanded, and as the compulsion to obey washed over her, a few stray tears escaped her eyes to trickle down her cheeks. “Did you really think me that idiotic? I prefer to remain intact, Mudblood, which is more than I can say for you.” Holding her head firmly in place again, he murmured “Convulsio,” and moaned loudly as Hermione began to convulse, her muscles spasming around his cock.
Lucius continued to use her, thrusting into her mouth until he came, spurting deeply into her throat.
“Swallow,” he commanded harshly as he held her in place once more. Her body obeyed, swallowing hard around him. He groaned, panting slightly, and loosed his grip on her hair. He cast a quick cleaning charm over himself and settled his clothing about him, smoothing his hair back before turning his attention to his captive once more. He pointed his wand at her and cried, “Crucio,” smirking as she writhed before him.
“You will learn to obey, Miss Granger. Or you will die even more horribly than is already planned.” She stared at him, unable to form a sarcastic reply.
“What… what is already planned?” she asked in a pleading whisper. He smiled coldly at her, lip curling in disdain.
“You will be used and you will be killed. What your behavior will decide is whether you will be tortured, as well as how many others will be granted the pleasure of your… charms, before that. And, of course, how merciful - or painful - your death will be.”
He left the cell in a swirl of black robes, the door clanging shut behind him.
***
The wizard stared at the worried faces around the table at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix in turn. Leaning forward, he pounded the table with his fist angrily.
“I’m telling you, she’s alive!” he said vehemently. “But she won’t remain that way for much longer.”
The others stared at him with expressions ranging from disbelief to outright suspicion and hostility.
“Why should we believe you?” Bill Weasley sneered. “You want us to send only one or two people into a nest of Death Eaters for this crazy stealth rescue. Why not storm the place with our full numbers?”
The other wizard, seeming to melt into the shadows in his black robes, looked at him disdainfully.
“Because, you imbecile, as of today, only two people know her whereabouts. If the Order goes storming into the place, my cover is blown and I’m as good as dead before you’re done dismantling the wards.”
Bill acknowledged that possibility with a nod. “But instead, you expect us to trust you and send some of our own - one a very important member, I might add - to blindly follow you into what sounds very like a kamikaze mission.”
The wizard in black sighed. “It has to be him,” he repeated wearily. “She’s been raped and tortured. She won’t trust me, and she probably won’t trust anyone else. She doesn’t know who was captured, who might be under the Imperius curse, or a Polyjuiced Death Eater. The only person who can convince her is Potter.”
Harry raised his eyes to stare at the other wizard angrily. “Why do you even care?” he asked with deadly calm. “You’ve been a right arse to her for as long as you’ve known her.” The man sighed.
“I care because I’m on your side. How many times must I prove that before you believe me? Is this witch your best friend, or not?” he demanded. “She’s probably been raped twice more while we’ve been debating this!”
The room fell silent at this pronouncement.
“Are you sure?” Molly asked again. “Perhaps they haven’t -“
“They have,” the wizard in black cut her off curtly. “I assure you, they have.”
“What have-?”
“Cruciatus. Imperius. Rape.” The man looked sick. “Do you really need me to be more detailed? I’ve done everything in my power to delay the worst, but we have to act quickly or it will all be for naught.”
“Alright,” Harry said wearily. “He’s right; we have to try. It’s Hermione, for Merlin’s sake. Bill, how do you fancy a suicide mission?”
***
Lucius stalked into the dungeon cell and hauled Hermione into a sitting position by her hair. A soft whimper escaped her lips, but otherwise she remained silent.
“Since you continue to remain… uncooperative, I have decided to let you see the consequences of that decision,” he snarled. With a wave of his wand, a short bench appeared in the center of the room. “Bend over it,” he said quietly.
Hermione sat unmoving, and he growled. With a muttered “Wingardium Leviosa,” she was lifted in the air and placed roughly over the bench. With another wave of his wand the chains holding her to the floor shortened until she was pinned on all fours, unable to move. Her stomach was supported by the bench, her head dangling, her arse up.
“Fuck off, Malfoy,” she managed.
“I grow tired of these games, Miss Granger. It’s high time you learned your place,” he said coldly. Without another word, he conjured a bullwhip and began whipping her back, arse and thighs. Hermione managed to remain silent for the first couple of blows, but soon gave in to the shrieks of pain wrung by the whip. Lucius stepped back to admire the crisscrossing bloody welts.
Lucius dropped the whip and surveyed the sobbing witch.
“Perhaps that will be the end of your disobedience,” he snarled, stomping from the cell without another word, leaving Hermione bound and bleeding in the darkness.
***
Some time later, Hermione heard footsteps approaching. She had pulled against her chains until her wrists were bloody and raw, but they still held her fast. Her resolve to fight was nearly gone, but she bit back a sob of fear.
I’ll be damned if I’ll show that bastard I’m afraid, she thought. Not if I can possibly help it.
Lucius swept into the room and surveyed the bound witch. He cast a spell, murmuring an incantation that Hermione couldn’t quite catch. A small silvery white light glowed around her briefly before flickering out.
“So, my son was right. You continue to surprise me, Miss Granger. This… development changes a few things.” Her eyes widened as she stared at him, trying desperately to comprehend his meaning. “My son insisted you were still a virgin, and he has just been proven right. There are some powerful rituals that need virgin blood to activate. The Dark Lord will be pleased.” He chuckled darkly at her renewed struggles.
“Because of this… news, my plans for you have changed, Mudblood,” he continued coldly. “I had planned for you to be the entertainment at tonight’s revel. Now, that plan will need to be altered somewhat.” Hermione, who had tensed at his words, let herself relax slightly. Lucius caught the movement and laughed.
“Don’t think that this will save you tonight, witch. It only removes a small portion of the possible entertainments.” Her eyes widened once again, and she trembled at his tone. “Because the Dark Lord will wish you to remain alive and intact, you will escape intercourse. However, you will be tortured, or that insolent mouth of yours put to use.” He smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I will simply have to construct the necessary protections before allowing the others near you.” He laughed again as Hermione bit back a sob of fear.
“Not such a brave Gryffindor now, are we? Frightened by the idea of other men?” he smirked. “Pity. You are rather good. Of course, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that a Mudblood can suck cock.” He paused, smiling at her horrified expression. “Oh, yes, my dear; tonight will indeed be a night to remember.”
***
Hermione knelt on the marble floor, arms chained together and stretched high above her head. Her thighs were bound together and to the floor with a Sticking charm, and Lucius had also cast several shield charms to set off alarms if anyone tried to move her. She had been moved by Lucius to an alcove set apart from the large ballroom where a tall dais and throne had been erected. Once she had been placed to Lucius’ satisfaction, she had been blindfolded and left alone. The noise of the assembled Death Eaters was loud and frightening in the darkness, but Hermione grew even more frightened when a hush fell, knowing it meant that Voldemort had arrived.
“My friends,” Voldemort cried out. “Welcome! This is indeed a happy day for us.” A murmur went through the crowd. “Harry Potter may have escaped us once again, but we emerged victorious from our recent battle. Many who fought for the Light are dead.” A tear slid down Hermione’s cheek as she stifled a sob. She had hoped, despite her capture, that the Order had been spared any more deaths.
“Lucius!” Voldemort continued. Lucius stepped forward and dropped to his knees.
“Here, my Lord.”
“Ahh, Lucius. Your letter spoke of a tribute,” Voldemort said.
“Yes, my Lord.” Lucius did not raise his head as he continued, “I believe you will be most pleased.”
“Arise, my loyal servant, and speak,” Voldemort decreed as he settled himself on the throne. Lucius rose fluidly and stood before Voldemort, head bowed slightly in a show of deference.
“My Lord,” he began, “I have procured a means to unlocking powerful magic. It is my wish to gift it to you.” A whisper tittered among the assembled Death Eaters.
“Indeed?” Voldemort raised an eyebrow, waiting for Lucius to continue.
“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius replied quickly. “I have taken Potter’s Mudblood whore. She is in chains in this Manor as we speak.” Voldemort smiled cruelly, and Lucius continued. “I captured her during the battle. What is more, my Lord, she is still a virgin, and for a Mudblood, she has powerful magic within her. I have kept her intact, so that you may use her in a ritual of your choosing.” Lucius paused and dared to look up, meeting Voldemort’s eye. “I hope that my tribute pleases you.”
Voldemort, eyes gleaming red, motioned for Lucius to join him on the dais.
“I am pleased, Lucius, and I shall see that you are rewarded for this gift,” Voldemort said softly.
“My Lord is most generous,” Lucius replied with a deep bow.
“How is the witch? Has she been broken?”
“No, my Lord. She is stubborn and willful - she still resists, even under the Imperius Curse.” Lucius said quietly. Voldemort raised an eyebrow.
“Gryffindors are boring in their predictability,” he sighed. “We will never win, they will never stop fighting, the Light will always shine against the Darkness… whine, whine, whine.” He snickered. “I trust, my friend, that you intend to use tonight’s festivities to further attempt to break her?” Lucius nodded.
“Just so, my Lord. I have bound her in the alcove for entertainment, with the proper protections to ensure that your tribute remains viable, of course.” Lucius bowed again. “With your permission, I should like to present her to the others.”
Voldemort nodded and waved his hand.
“Of course, of course. Send Bella to me and have your fun,” he said with an indulgent smile.
Lucius bowed his way off the dais and went in search of Bellatrix. He found her casting stinging hexes at Hermione, who was sobbing against a silencing charm.
“Our Lord requires your presence, Bella,” he whispered in her ear. She looked at him with a delighted leer and moved to settle herself at Voldemort’s knee. At Voldemort’s nod, Lucius raised his voice to address the crowd.
“My friends, as you heard, we have captured Hermione Granger. I have presented her to our Lord, and it is his wish that she remains a virgin… for now.” The crowd moved restlessly and unhappily at that pronouncement. “As a consolation, we have several other captives for your entertainment,” he continued, indicating an alcove to his left where several women were bound and gagged. “Additionally, the Mudblood-” he indicated the alcove to his right, where Hermione was imprisoned “-may be tortured, so long as you do not kill her. You may also use her mouth for your satisfaction.”
Hermione, upon hearing his words, began to shake uncontrollably. Her sobs did not penetrate the Silencing charm that Bellatrix had placed on her, but it was clear to the crowd that she was crying. Lucius smirked. Perhaps the Mudblood would be broken tonight, once and for all. He would enjoy using her without the added drain of having to put her under an Imperius.
***
The pale, black-robed wizard paled as he watched Lucius announce Hermione’s fate. He slipped away at the first opportunity, casting his Patronus and sending it speeding toward two wizards currently waiting deep in the woods several miles from the Manor. They looked up as a bright silvery fox galloped up to them and spoke.
“The revel has begun; I fear we may be too late. Wait for my signal.”
Harry and Bill stared at each other in horror.
“Bloody hell,” Bill whispered. “What do we do?”
“What can we do? We wait,” Harry replied worriedly.
***
The wizard in black turned back to the ballroom, blending into the edges of the crowd gathered around the trembling, bound body of Hermione Granger.
After several hours, Hermione lost count of the number of cocks that had been shoved into her mouth, or the curses she had endured. She began to realize that the Cruciatus Curse was nothing compared to the slow torture that hands could inflict. Several of the Death Eaters had whipped her, and she could feel blood trickling down her back and stomach. One - she thought it might have been Dolohov - had carved into her skin with something impossibly sharp.
Had she been able to see, Hermione might have found some hope in one reveler’s worried gaze. As it was, she had been alone in the darkness, a prisoner in the hell Lucius Malfoy had created especially for her. She would slip into unconsciousness and have a few precious seconds of oblivion, free from pain and the taunts and jeers of her tormentors. Inevitably, those around her would notice her unresponsiveness and would cast a Reviving Charm. Hermione’s mind reeled with the trauma of being wrenched back into such torment over and over. The silencing charm had been lifted, and her desperate keening filled the room.
Lucius heard it, and smiled, thinking it meant that she was finally broken. The black-robed wizard heard it and closed his eyes to hide the sight of his heart breaking for the girl. He breathed a silent prayer to the Universe that the revel would end soon and he could put his plan into action.
A latecomer to the revel might not have recognised the bound captive as Hermione Granger. Her face was swollen, bruised and bloodied from the beatings she had been given. Her limbs and torso were covered in lacerations, bruises, hexes and curses. It was only when repeated Reviving Charms had failed to rouse her from unconsciousness that the Death Eaters tired of their sport and left her scarred and broken body forgotten in the alcove.
***
When the revel was over, Hermione was dumped unceremoniously back into the dungeons, chains refastened to the ring in the floor. Sweat trickled over her skin and stung the open wounds covering her body. Her muscles trembled violently and she vomited the bile in her empty stomach several times before collapsing into oblivion.
The wizard in black stared into the cell, eyes narrowed. He turned to the guard.
“She hasn’t been healed?” he snarled in disbelief. The Death Eater shuffled his feet.
“I’m not healing some worthless Mudblood,” he muttered.
“Indeed? Then you can explain to the Dark Lord why you allowed his tribute to bleed to death before he put her to use,” the man in black sneered. The Death Eater looked terrified, turning abruptly to stare into the cell. As he unlocked the wards, the other wizard took advantage of his distraction, pulling out his wand.
“Obliviate!”
While the guard was disoriented, he rushed into the unlocked cell. He came up short, staring at Hermione and the injuries she’d sustained.
“Bloody hell,” he breathed, before pulling out his wand and beginning to heal the worst of her wounds. “Damn it, Granger, Potter will never forgive me if you die.”
With shaking hand, he pointed his wand at the chains and set about the difficult task of dismantling the complicated spells which formed them. Once they were freed, he sent his Patronus ahead to Harry and Bill.
I have her. Be ready.
Hermione regained consciousness to the sound of the chains which bound her to the floor rattling free. Strong hands pulled her to her feet, supporting her and urging her to walk. She stared at the floor, too afraid to look up and see the face of her next torturer. She struggled to push herself away from the black-robed figure beside her.
Until his familiar voice nearly stopped her cold.
“Hurry up. It’s time to go,” he urged, sotto voce.
Hermione lifted her head, dull brown eyes meeting worried grey.
“Come on, Granger. Let’s get you out of here,” Draco whispered.
Hermione’s mind refused to process the look in Draco Malfoy’s eyes as he continued to urge her towards the door of the cell. An icy dread filled her heart as she wondered if Voldemort had decided on a ritual to use her in. She trembled violently as she realised that if he had, these few steps might be her last. Despite her resolve, tears began leaking from the corners of her eyes. After everything that had happened, Draco Malfoy had come, if not as executioner, then to lead her to her end. Unable to keep command of her body, her knees buckled under her; if Draco had not caught her in his arms, she would have fallen to the floor.
Draco caught Hermione’s small form and turned her so that he could look into her eyes. As he did, he saw her resignation, her absolute belief that she was about to die. He saw the fear she was trying so desperately to hide. He could feel his own heart breaking at the sight.
Draco could hear the guard beginning to stir and knew there was no more time to lose. He pointed his wand out the nearest window and shot off the blue sparks that would bring Harry and Bill out of hiding. He scooped Hermione up in his arms and hurtled down the dungeon corridors as quickly as he could manage it. Once he reached the gates, he stopped, breathing hard, Hermione still clutched in his arms. He stared out through the gates and whistled once shrilly.
Bill materialised from the shadows at the sound, staring at Draco. His eyes widened at the sight of Hermione, but he quickly shook himself back to the present.
“Ready?” he asked, pointing his wand at the gates. At Draco’s curt nod, Bill shouted “Reducto!” and the gates disintegrated. At the same instant, the wards flared to life and alarms began wailing around them.
Draco set Hermione on her feet, where she wobbled unsteadily. He held her up and murmured in her ear.
“Go with Weasley, Granger.”
Hermione shook her head, trembling. “It’s a trick,” she mumbled, sinking to her knees. Bill’s eyes widened as he watched her. He looked at Draco questioningly.
“If I carry her out, I go with you,” Draco said evenly. “The wards will detect me and my cover’s blown.” Bill took a step forward, but Draco’s harsh tone stopped him before he could take another. “If you try to enter now that the wards are triggered, Weasley, you’ll be killed instantly. They’re designed to allow escape, but not entry.” Draco chuckled bitterly. “A Malfoy would never admit that someone they already had inside the Manor would be able to escape.” Beside him, Hermione was still mumbling about tricks and curses.
Harry stepped out of the shadows to stand beside Bill. “’Mione? Come on. We have to get you out of here,” he said gently.
Hermione lifted her dulled brown eyes to the newcomer as his voice registered in her subconscious.
“Ha-Harry?” she asked suspiciously. Her eyes flew between the three men, doubt warring with hope in her features.
“Yes, love, it’s me. Come on, now. We have to move. We’ll get you back to Headquarters,” he said soothingly, holding out his arms. Hermione looked at him fearfully. Draco swore under his breath.
“They’re coming,” he whispered. “We’re out of time.” Draco hauled Hermione back to her feet and walked as close as he could get to the wards without triggering them. Sweeping Hermione up into his arms again, he took a step back and stared challengingly at Harry.
“You ready?” he asked with a snarl. Harry nodded. Draco swung his arms back and tossed Hermione through the wards to Harry, who caught her easily. Hermione shrieked in fear as she was thrown, but once in Harry’s arms, she seemed to quiet. Draco nodded quickly to Harry and Bill. “Run. Now,” he instructed, before Disillusioning himself and fleeing back up the dungeon tunnels into the heart of the Manor.
Harry disappeared with Bill into the blackened forest, Hermione cradled protectively in his arms.
***
Author: uniquepov
Recipient: marsdeafaden
Pairing(s): Lucius/Hermione, Death Eaters/Hermione
Word Count: ~4,900
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-con, violence, torture
Summary: Hermione is captured by Lucius Malfoy during a battle with the Order.
Author's Notes: I would like to thank my beta for all her help, and the recipient for the prompts. I didn’t quite manage everything you requested, but I hope you enjoy it!
***
The last thing she remembered of the battle was a flash of red, a fire of blinding pain and then sinking into blissful oblivion.
She awoke shivering on a cold stone floor. The world spun as she tried to sit up, the motion hampered by stark metal chains. Her hands shook as she pulled at the manacles around her wrists and ankles, connected to a single eyebolt buried in the floor by stout lengths of chain. A shorter chain attached the metal collar around her neck to the same bolt. Hermione ran through every wandless spell she knew that might have freed her, and when those failed she resorted to tugging at the joints in the chains with her bare hands.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the darkness and she scrabbled as far from the door as the chains would allow. The door swung open and the familiar flash of red light came hard on the heels of a hissed Crucio! as Hermione’s world went black once more.
Lucius smirked as he stood over her prone figure. The war might have still been raging, but perhaps there was a chance for some fun, after all.
***
Judging by the gnawing hunger in the pit of her stomach, Hermione guessed she’d been in the dungeons for three, possibly four days. She was never awake for long before Malfoy would appear to Crucio her into unconsciousness once more.
The door clanged as it bounced against the opposite wall. Lucius stalked in and conjured a goblet with a careless flick of his wand.
“Auguamenti,” he drawled. “Drink, Miss Granger.”
She stared at him defiantly, her voice raspy as she spat out, “As if I’d drink anything from you, Malfoy.” He had the nerve to chuckle.
“If you continue to refuse, I will force you to drink it. You are dehydrated and, as I have plans for you, it would be… inconvenient for you to die too soon.”
“Well, far be it from me to inconvenience the great Lucius Malfoy,” she managed to sneer, picking up the goblet and hurling it at his head. Lucius clucked his tongue as he looked at her, shaking his head.
“Very well then, I can see we’re going to have to do things… the hard way,” he said in a sorrowful tone.
Standing over her, he pointed his wand and smiled as he said, “Imperio!”
She could feel her eyes glaze as her conscious mind fought the overwhelming urge to obey completely.
Lucius smiled at her wide glassy eyes and furrowed brow. The Mudblood was fighting it. Unsurprising, really. Bloody Gryffindors. He sighed as he restored the goblet of water to its original place beside his captive.
“You will drink this. Now.”
Her face was blank, her eyes wide, as she picked up the goblet with shaking hands and drank. He smiled once again.
“That’s more like it,” he almost purred. Hermione’s mind screamed within her as he circled her kneeling form with predatory strides. “Now then, time to teach you a few… lessons,” he murmured.
“I’m sure you’ve already realized that you are aware of what you’re doing, even under the Imperius Curse. You can’t fight it, so you might as well save your strength.” As he spoke, he suddenly pushed her forward, with the sole of his shoe hard and cold against her back; the pressure was unrelenting until her face and shoulders were pinned to the floor. Her conscious mind was screaming again about the vulnerability of her position, arse slightly in the air, and she tried to push backwards onto her knees again as soon as the pressure on her back was removed.
“Do not move,” he snarled coldly.
The Imperius Curse locked her muscles in place at his command. Her mind was shrieking so loudly now that Hermione could barely hear Lucius above the din. He stalked around her slowly before lashing out with his foot to catch her in the midsection. She was knocked several feet from the blow and landed in a gasping heap on her side.
“Imperio!” Lucius said again, a snarl on his lips. “On your knees, Mudblood.”
Hermione struggled to her knees, tears in her eyes from what felt like broken ribs. Lucius stared at her impassively as he cast several rapid fire Cruciatus Curses. Hermione was conscious of screaming and only belatedly realized it was coming from her own lips. After what seemed like an eternity, Lucius released the spells holding her and she collapsed, curling into a fetal position on the floor of the cell.
“Lesson One: Obedience,” he drawled. “When I speak, you listen and obey, or you will suffer.” Hermione lifted her head and, summoning reserves of strength she hadn’t known she had, glared at him from the floor.
“Fuck you, Malfoy,” she spat at him, struggling to push herself into a sitting position with trembling limbs.
Lucius stared at her, lip curling.
“Interesting…” he said quietly, circling the room. “Well, if you insist. Imperio!” She could feel the magical compulsion washing over her once again. “Get on your knees, you Mudblood whore.” Hermione’s mind screamed at her as her limbs obeyed the order, struggling to kneel up on the cold stone floor. Lucius stepped forward and unfastened his trousers, releasing his semi-erect cock. Hermione’s eyes widened as he stepped closer to her. Lucius reached down and stroked himself, taking only a few strokes to bring himself fully erect. He twirled his wand in his hand before pointing it at Hermione.
“Crucio!” he said cruelly, stepping even closer as she cried out, her body convulsing. He smiled as he pushed himself between her lips, choking her as her body was released from the Cruciatus. Before her mind or her body could process what was happening, Lucius had cast an Imperius over her once more.
“Now then, why don’t you use that mouth for something more appropriate?” he asked, holding the back of her head, keeping himself deep inside her. He gasped as he felt the tip of his cock brush the back of her throat. “Suck me.”
The curse pushed her to bob her head along the shaft, even as her mind shouted at her to STOP! Lucius gave a low groan and thrust his cock into her mouth, his hand still fisted in the hair at the nape of her neck.
“That’s right, whore. This is what you were made for,” he snarled. He forced himself deeper inside her, savouring the feeling of her throat spasming against him as he triggered her gag reflex. He pulled her head forward and held her there, biting back a moan as she struggled to breathe. He let go of the back of her head and she came up quickly, gasping for air. Lucius wrapped her hair around his hand again and hauled her upward, bending down until his lips touched her ear.
“Has Lesson One …sunk in yet?” he whispered, breath hot against the side of her face. She shivered at the sensation, but turned her head to meet his eyes fully.
“Not… yet…” she said, managing to infuse her shaky tone with a touch of defiance. “You’ll have to… try harder.”
Lucius’ eyes widened and he took a step backward, yanking her forward by her hair as he did.
“You… intrigue me, Miss Granger,” he said finally. “Most witches would be begging for mercy in your position.” Hermione managed a short bark of laughter.
“Would it… do me any good… if I begged, Malfoy?” she said bitterly, still struggling to catch her breath. “Or would you simply… enjoy this even more?” Lucius chuckled.
“It would seem you are not as naïve as you appear,” he conceded. “It’s true that what I have planned for you will happen regardless.” He moved closer, so that his erect member was again inches from her face. “Shall we continue this the easy way?” She stared up at him in contempt.
“By all means,” she said, moving her head forward. Seconds before her teeth snapped down on his erection, he hit her with another Imperius curse.
“Suck,” he commanded, and as the compulsion to obey washed over her, a few stray tears escaped her eyes to trickle down her cheeks. “Did you really think me that idiotic? I prefer to remain intact, Mudblood, which is more than I can say for you.” Holding her head firmly in place again, he murmured “Convulsio,” and moaned loudly as Hermione began to convulse, her muscles spasming around his cock.
Lucius continued to use her, thrusting into her mouth until he came, spurting deeply into her throat.
“Swallow,” he commanded harshly as he held her in place once more. Her body obeyed, swallowing hard around him. He groaned, panting slightly, and loosed his grip on her hair. He cast a quick cleaning charm over himself and settled his clothing about him, smoothing his hair back before turning his attention to his captive once more. He pointed his wand at her and cried, “Crucio,” smirking as she writhed before him.
“You will learn to obey, Miss Granger. Or you will die even more horribly than is already planned.” She stared at him, unable to form a sarcastic reply.
“What… what is already planned?” she asked in a pleading whisper. He smiled coldly at her, lip curling in disdain.
“You will be used and you will be killed. What your behavior will decide is whether you will be tortured, as well as how many others will be granted the pleasure of your… charms, before that. And, of course, how merciful - or painful - your death will be.”
He left the cell in a swirl of black robes, the door clanging shut behind him.
***
The wizard stared at the worried faces around the table at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix in turn. Leaning forward, he pounded the table with his fist angrily.
“I’m telling you, she’s alive!” he said vehemently. “But she won’t remain that way for much longer.”
The others stared at him with expressions ranging from disbelief to outright suspicion and hostility.
“Why should we believe you?” Bill Weasley sneered. “You want us to send only one or two people into a nest of Death Eaters for this crazy stealth rescue. Why not storm the place with our full numbers?”
The other wizard, seeming to melt into the shadows in his black robes, looked at him disdainfully.
“Because, you imbecile, as of today, only two people know her whereabouts. If the Order goes storming into the place, my cover is blown and I’m as good as dead before you’re done dismantling the wards.”
Bill acknowledged that possibility with a nod. “But instead, you expect us to trust you and send some of our own - one a very important member, I might add - to blindly follow you into what sounds very like a kamikaze mission.”
The wizard in black sighed. “It has to be him,” he repeated wearily. “She’s been raped and tortured. She won’t trust me, and she probably won’t trust anyone else. She doesn’t know who was captured, who might be under the Imperius curse, or a Polyjuiced Death Eater. The only person who can convince her is Potter.”
Harry raised his eyes to stare at the other wizard angrily. “Why do you even care?” he asked with deadly calm. “You’ve been a right arse to her for as long as you’ve known her.” The man sighed.
“I care because I’m on your side. How many times must I prove that before you believe me? Is this witch your best friend, or not?” he demanded. “She’s probably been raped twice more while we’ve been debating this!”
The room fell silent at this pronouncement.
“Are you sure?” Molly asked again. “Perhaps they haven’t -“
“They have,” the wizard in black cut her off curtly. “I assure you, they have.”
“What have-?”
“Cruciatus. Imperius. Rape.” The man looked sick. “Do you really need me to be more detailed? I’ve done everything in my power to delay the worst, but we have to act quickly or it will all be for naught.”
“Alright,” Harry said wearily. “He’s right; we have to try. It’s Hermione, for Merlin’s sake. Bill, how do you fancy a suicide mission?”
***
Lucius stalked into the dungeon cell and hauled Hermione into a sitting position by her hair. A soft whimper escaped her lips, but otherwise she remained silent.
“Since you continue to remain… uncooperative, I have decided to let you see the consequences of that decision,” he snarled. With a wave of his wand, a short bench appeared in the center of the room. “Bend over it,” he said quietly.
Hermione sat unmoving, and he growled. With a muttered “Wingardium Leviosa,” she was lifted in the air and placed roughly over the bench. With another wave of his wand the chains holding her to the floor shortened until she was pinned on all fours, unable to move. Her stomach was supported by the bench, her head dangling, her arse up.
“Fuck off, Malfoy,” she managed.
“I grow tired of these games, Miss Granger. It’s high time you learned your place,” he said coldly. Without another word, he conjured a bullwhip and began whipping her back, arse and thighs. Hermione managed to remain silent for the first couple of blows, but soon gave in to the shrieks of pain wrung by the whip. Lucius stepped back to admire the crisscrossing bloody welts.
Lucius dropped the whip and surveyed the sobbing witch.
“Perhaps that will be the end of your disobedience,” he snarled, stomping from the cell without another word, leaving Hermione bound and bleeding in the darkness.
***
Some time later, Hermione heard footsteps approaching. She had pulled against her chains until her wrists were bloody and raw, but they still held her fast. Her resolve to fight was nearly gone, but she bit back a sob of fear.
I’ll be damned if I’ll show that bastard I’m afraid, she thought. Not if I can possibly help it.
Lucius swept into the room and surveyed the bound witch. He cast a spell, murmuring an incantation that Hermione couldn’t quite catch. A small silvery white light glowed around her briefly before flickering out.
“So, my son was right. You continue to surprise me, Miss Granger. This… development changes a few things.” Her eyes widened as she stared at him, trying desperately to comprehend his meaning. “My son insisted you were still a virgin, and he has just been proven right. There are some powerful rituals that need virgin blood to activate. The Dark Lord will be pleased.” He chuckled darkly at her renewed struggles.
“Because of this… news, my plans for you have changed, Mudblood,” he continued coldly. “I had planned for you to be the entertainment at tonight’s revel. Now, that plan will need to be altered somewhat.” Hermione, who had tensed at his words, let herself relax slightly. Lucius caught the movement and laughed.
“Don’t think that this will save you tonight, witch. It only removes a small portion of the possible entertainments.” Her eyes widened once again, and she trembled at his tone. “Because the Dark Lord will wish you to remain alive and intact, you will escape intercourse. However, you will be tortured, or that insolent mouth of yours put to use.” He smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I will simply have to construct the necessary protections before allowing the others near you.” He laughed again as Hermione bit back a sob of fear.
“Not such a brave Gryffindor now, are we? Frightened by the idea of other men?” he smirked. “Pity. You are rather good. Of course, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that a Mudblood can suck cock.” He paused, smiling at her horrified expression. “Oh, yes, my dear; tonight will indeed be a night to remember.”
***
Hermione knelt on the marble floor, arms chained together and stretched high above her head. Her thighs were bound together and to the floor with a Sticking charm, and Lucius had also cast several shield charms to set off alarms if anyone tried to move her. She had been moved by Lucius to an alcove set apart from the large ballroom where a tall dais and throne had been erected. Once she had been placed to Lucius’ satisfaction, she had been blindfolded and left alone. The noise of the assembled Death Eaters was loud and frightening in the darkness, but Hermione grew even more frightened when a hush fell, knowing it meant that Voldemort had arrived.
“My friends,” Voldemort cried out. “Welcome! This is indeed a happy day for us.” A murmur went through the crowd. “Harry Potter may have escaped us once again, but we emerged victorious from our recent battle. Many who fought for the Light are dead.” A tear slid down Hermione’s cheek as she stifled a sob. She had hoped, despite her capture, that the Order had been spared any more deaths.
“Lucius!” Voldemort continued. Lucius stepped forward and dropped to his knees.
“Here, my Lord.”
“Ahh, Lucius. Your letter spoke of a tribute,” Voldemort said.
“Yes, my Lord.” Lucius did not raise his head as he continued, “I believe you will be most pleased.”
“Arise, my loyal servant, and speak,” Voldemort decreed as he settled himself on the throne. Lucius rose fluidly and stood before Voldemort, head bowed slightly in a show of deference.
“My Lord,” he began, “I have procured a means to unlocking powerful magic. It is my wish to gift it to you.” A whisper tittered among the assembled Death Eaters.
“Indeed?” Voldemort raised an eyebrow, waiting for Lucius to continue.
“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius replied quickly. “I have taken Potter’s Mudblood whore. She is in chains in this Manor as we speak.” Voldemort smiled cruelly, and Lucius continued. “I captured her during the battle. What is more, my Lord, she is still a virgin, and for a Mudblood, she has powerful magic within her. I have kept her intact, so that you may use her in a ritual of your choosing.” Lucius paused and dared to look up, meeting Voldemort’s eye. “I hope that my tribute pleases you.”
Voldemort, eyes gleaming red, motioned for Lucius to join him on the dais.
“I am pleased, Lucius, and I shall see that you are rewarded for this gift,” Voldemort said softly.
“My Lord is most generous,” Lucius replied with a deep bow.
“How is the witch? Has she been broken?”
“No, my Lord. She is stubborn and willful - she still resists, even under the Imperius Curse.” Lucius said quietly. Voldemort raised an eyebrow.
“Gryffindors are boring in their predictability,” he sighed. “We will never win, they will never stop fighting, the Light will always shine against the Darkness… whine, whine, whine.” He snickered. “I trust, my friend, that you intend to use tonight’s festivities to further attempt to break her?” Lucius nodded.
“Just so, my Lord. I have bound her in the alcove for entertainment, with the proper protections to ensure that your tribute remains viable, of course.” Lucius bowed again. “With your permission, I should like to present her to the others.”
Voldemort nodded and waved his hand.
“Of course, of course. Send Bella to me and have your fun,” he said with an indulgent smile.
Lucius bowed his way off the dais and went in search of Bellatrix. He found her casting stinging hexes at Hermione, who was sobbing against a silencing charm.
“Our Lord requires your presence, Bella,” he whispered in her ear. She looked at him with a delighted leer and moved to settle herself at Voldemort’s knee. At Voldemort’s nod, Lucius raised his voice to address the crowd.
“My friends, as you heard, we have captured Hermione Granger. I have presented her to our Lord, and it is his wish that she remains a virgin… for now.” The crowd moved restlessly and unhappily at that pronouncement. “As a consolation, we have several other captives for your entertainment,” he continued, indicating an alcove to his left where several women were bound and gagged. “Additionally, the Mudblood-” he indicated the alcove to his right, where Hermione was imprisoned “-may be tortured, so long as you do not kill her. You may also use her mouth for your satisfaction.”
Hermione, upon hearing his words, began to shake uncontrollably. Her sobs did not penetrate the Silencing charm that Bellatrix had placed on her, but it was clear to the crowd that she was crying. Lucius smirked. Perhaps the Mudblood would be broken tonight, once and for all. He would enjoy using her without the added drain of having to put her under an Imperius.
***
The pale, black-robed wizard paled as he watched Lucius announce Hermione’s fate. He slipped away at the first opportunity, casting his Patronus and sending it speeding toward two wizards currently waiting deep in the woods several miles from the Manor. They looked up as a bright silvery fox galloped up to them and spoke.
“The revel has begun; I fear we may be too late. Wait for my signal.”
Harry and Bill stared at each other in horror.
“Bloody hell,” Bill whispered. “What do we do?”
“What can we do? We wait,” Harry replied worriedly.
***
The wizard in black turned back to the ballroom, blending into the edges of the crowd gathered around the trembling, bound body of Hermione Granger.
After several hours, Hermione lost count of the number of cocks that had been shoved into her mouth, or the curses she had endured. She began to realize that the Cruciatus Curse was nothing compared to the slow torture that hands could inflict. Several of the Death Eaters had whipped her, and she could feel blood trickling down her back and stomach. One - she thought it might have been Dolohov - had carved into her skin with something impossibly sharp.
Had she been able to see, Hermione might have found some hope in one reveler’s worried gaze. As it was, she had been alone in the darkness, a prisoner in the hell Lucius Malfoy had created especially for her. She would slip into unconsciousness and have a few precious seconds of oblivion, free from pain and the taunts and jeers of her tormentors. Inevitably, those around her would notice her unresponsiveness and would cast a Reviving Charm. Hermione’s mind reeled with the trauma of being wrenched back into such torment over and over. The silencing charm had been lifted, and her desperate keening filled the room.
Lucius heard it, and smiled, thinking it meant that she was finally broken. The black-robed wizard heard it and closed his eyes to hide the sight of his heart breaking for the girl. He breathed a silent prayer to the Universe that the revel would end soon and he could put his plan into action.
A latecomer to the revel might not have recognised the bound captive as Hermione Granger. Her face was swollen, bruised and bloodied from the beatings she had been given. Her limbs and torso were covered in lacerations, bruises, hexes and curses. It was only when repeated Reviving Charms had failed to rouse her from unconsciousness that the Death Eaters tired of their sport and left her scarred and broken body forgotten in the alcove.
***
When the revel was over, Hermione was dumped unceremoniously back into the dungeons, chains refastened to the ring in the floor. Sweat trickled over her skin and stung the open wounds covering her body. Her muscles trembled violently and she vomited the bile in her empty stomach several times before collapsing into oblivion.
The wizard in black stared into the cell, eyes narrowed. He turned to the guard.
“She hasn’t been healed?” he snarled in disbelief. The Death Eater shuffled his feet.
“I’m not healing some worthless Mudblood,” he muttered.
“Indeed? Then you can explain to the Dark Lord why you allowed his tribute to bleed to death before he put her to use,” the man in black sneered. The Death Eater looked terrified, turning abruptly to stare into the cell. As he unlocked the wards, the other wizard took advantage of his distraction, pulling out his wand.
“Obliviate!”
While the guard was disoriented, he rushed into the unlocked cell. He came up short, staring at Hermione and the injuries she’d sustained.
“Bloody hell,” he breathed, before pulling out his wand and beginning to heal the worst of her wounds. “Damn it, Granger, Potter will never forgive me if you die.”
With shaking hand, he pointed his wand at the chains and set about the difficult task of dismantling the complicated spells which formed them. Once they were freed, he sent his Patronus ahead to Harry and Bill.
I have her. Be ready.
Hermione regained consciousness to the sound of the chains which bound her to the floor rattling free. Strong hands pulled her to her feet, supporting her and urging her to walk. She stared at the floor, too afraid to look up and see the face of her next torturer. She struggled to push herself away from the black-robed figure beside her.
Until his familiar voice nearly stopped her cold.
“Hurry up. It’s time to go,” he urged, sotto voce.
Hermione lifted her head, dull brown eyes meeting worried grey.
“Come on, Granger. Let’s get you out of here,” Draco whispered.
Hermione’s mind refused to process the look in Draco Malfoy’s eyes as he continued to urge her towards the door of the cell. An icy dread filled her heart as she wondered if Voldemort had decided on a ritual to use her in. She trembled violently as she realised that if he had, these few steps might be her last. Despite her resolve, tears began leaking from the corners of her eyes. After everything that had happened, Draco Malfoy had come, if not as executioner, then to lead her to her end. Unable to keep command of her body, her knees buckled under her; if Draco had not caught her in his arms, she would have fallen to the floor.
Draco caught Hermione’s small form and turned her so that he could look into her eyes. As he did, he saw her resignation, her absolute belief that she was about to die. He saw the fear she was trying so desperately to hide. He could feel his own heart breaking at the sight.
Draco could hear the guard beginning to stir and knew there was no more time to lose. He pointed his wand out the nearest window and shot off the blue sparks that would bring Harry and Bill out of hiding. He scooped Hermione up in his arms and hurtled down the dungeon corridors as quickly as he could manage it. Once he reached the gates, he stopped, breathing hard, Hermione still clutched in his arms. He stared out through the gates and whistled once shrilly.
Bill materialised from the shadows at the sound, staring at Draco. His eyes widened at the sight of Hermione, but he quickly shook himself back to the present.
“Ready?” he asked, pointing his wand at the gates. At Draco’s curt nod, Bill shouted “Reducto!” and the gates disintegrated. At the same instant, the wards flared to life and alarms began wailing around them.
Draco set Hermione on her feet, where she wobbled unsteadily. He held her up and murmured in her ear.
“Go with Weasley, Granger.”
Hermione shook her head, trembling. “It’s a trick,” she mumbled, sinking to her knees. Bill’s eyes widened as he watched her. He looked at Draco questioningly.
“If I carry her out, I go with you,” Draco said evenly. “The wards will detect me and my cover’s blown.” Bill took a step forward, but Draco’s harsh tone stopped him before he could take another. “If you try to enter now that the wards are triggered, Weasley, you’ll be killed instantly. They’re designed to allow escape, but not entry.” Draco chuckled bitterly. “A Malfoy would never admit that someone they already had inside the Manor would be able to escape.” Beside him, Hermione was still mumbling about tricks and curses.
Harry stepped out of the shadows to stand beside Bill. “’Mione? Come on. We have to get you out of here,” he said gently.
Hermione lifted her dulled brown eyes to the newcomer as his voice registered in her subconscious.
“Ha-Harry?” she asked suspiciously. Her eyes flew between the three men, doubt warring with hope in her features.
“Yes, love, it’s me. Come on, now. We have to move. We’ll get you back to Headquarters,” he said soothingly, holding out his arms. Hermione looked at him fearfully. Draco swore under his breath.
“They’re coming,” he whispered. “We’re out of time.” Draco hauled Hermione back to her feet and walked as close as he could get to the wards without triggering them. Sweeping Hermione up into his arms again, he took a step back and stared challengingly at Harry.
“You ready?” he asked with a snarl. Harry nodded. Draco swung his arms back and tossed Hermione through the wards to Harry, who caught her easily. Hermione shrieked in fear as she was thrown, but once in Harry’s arms, she seemed to quiet. Draco nodded quickly to Harry and Bill. “Run. Now,” he instructed, before Disillusioning himself and fleeing back up the dungeon tunnels into the heart of the Manor.
Harry disappeared with Bill into the blackened forest, Hermione cradled protectively in his arms.
***