Hogwarts Exposed Chapter 17 part 2
WARNING: SUM OF DIS CHAPTA IS XTREMLY SCRAY. VIOWER EXCRETION ADVISD.
No, seriously. What follows is sick and wrong even by the atrocious standards of Hogwarts Exposed, and absolutely unsuitable for anyone.
Hermione awoke at the sound of a slamming door. She blinked several times, trying to clear her blurry eyes. Her heart thumped as she wondered who was coming into the room. Part of her hoped it was her captor, but she also feared looking into the face of the pervert who had brought her here.
A pervert. Which distinguishes him from everyone else in this fic how exactly?
Hermione had lost all track of time since her imprisonment.
The entire scene is ambiguous as to whether it's a flashback or the present. Once again, it's a narrative device I could see working in the hands of a halfway competent writer to show how she's lost track of time.
She had opened the gift that young Ronald had given her thinking it was from Harry. She had barely touched it when she felt as though a hook just behind her naval had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground and she went speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color. She remembered her feet slamming into the ground and then everything went blank. When she came to, she was in her iron body cage, totally naked.
Upon which she cast a wandless Unlocking Charm, turned into her Animagus form and fought her way out of the place. Too much to hope for that we'll get cool, badass canon!Hermione now though.
The cage was rather simple. It consisted of an iron band that encircled the waist at the hips. From this band two addition iron bands were connected at either side in the front. These bands crossed at the chest and then bent over the shoulders again crossing in the back before connecting to the waistband. Wrist cuffs were attached to either side and a hinged iron band went between the legs and closed at the back. Attachments for chains at the shoulders secured her to the wall.
Instead we get a long and disturbingly fetishistic torture scene. It gives me the Agony in Pink vibe of being written not just as torture porn but as actual porn, and I'm at least grateful that it's a fraction of the length.
“Hello Hermione,” the malicious voice echoed. “I do hope you don’t mind me calling you by your first name. Professor Granger seems so formal for two people that are going to get to know each other quite intimately. My name is Damien.”
Her heart beat faster and her face felt hot as she felt him looking over her naked body.
Of course she's naked. I mean, if you want to drive home your message that nudity is perfectly innocent, what better way than through a disturbingly sexualised naked torture scene?
He moved closer and she shivered as he stepped into the light before her. His face was sallow and covered in spots. His eyes were gray, but the parts that should be white were a very sick looking yellow.
This is the most description we've had of a character's appearance in the entire fic, and it's to tell us that the baddie is unattractive. Because he has to be.
"I've always thought you were attractive, but those pictures in the Daily Prophet don't do this face justice." As he said this, his hand cupped her chin and he jerked her head so that she was looking directly at him. "The things I've imagined doing to you." He was closer now, his large, oily nose mere centimeters from her own. Her body trembled, partially in fear and partially in anger as the man took a step back and began running his eyes over her again. Feeling the fury bubble inside her at this humiliation, she waited until his eyes were once more on her face before she spat at him.
Finally, some backbone.
The sharp crack echoed in the dingy room and she bit back a cry as the tears formed in her eyes. Her face stung where he had struck her and he was staring at her again, a menacing look in his eyes. "You won't stay pretty for long if you keep that up." He turned on her, walking towards a low table along the far wall. He spun quickly after picking something up and as he moved slowly towards her, she was able to see that he was pulling latex gloves over his hands. "Do you think they're looking for you, Hermione? Do you think they even care?" He was standing in front of her again.
For all the POV hops around in this fic, it remains steadfastly in Hermione's in this scene. That's good on the one hand, but on the other it means that we have no idea at all of who this guy really is and what his motivations are. If we don't see his POV we have to look at his words and actions to have an idea of that, and so far he's revealed nothing beyond "is evil". Contrast with Voldemort: even as of the end of Philosopher's Stone we have some idea of the kind of person he is. Like Ron in The Last War, I just don't care about Damien and what he does because he's not a character so much as a diabolus ex machina.
She shook as the gloves traced down her body and she clenched her teeth as her body shuddered against his touch. It was neither smooth, nor sexy, but the touch of a man who hated women, who looked down upon them.
This coming from the author who's turned one of the most badass characters in Harry Potter into a damsel in distress.
Women were objects to this man who was now exploring her most private parts and she felt the hot tears beginning to stream down her face as the violations came again and again.
I wondered how long it would take.
Her voice wavered as she replied, "Why have you brought me here?"
"Ah, you do speak. I suppose that since you have deigned to talk to me, I can answer that. The Great One has requested your presence here. He wants you to join us."
Ah, so Damien doesn't actually know who the Great One (who, incidentally, has very unoriginal taste in titles) is.
"Join you?" she spat out.
This is what Reasoning with Vampires refers to as "contaminated connotations" because, having shown Hermione spitting earlier in the scene, "spat out" as a dialogue tag is ambiguous as to whether it was meant figuratively or literally. Anyway, he leaves and Crabbe and Goyle enter.
Hermione would not have needed to hear their names in order to recognize her two new visitors. From the size of them, it was evident that they hadn’t changed their eating habits. “Crabbe, Goyle have you stooped this low? How can you associate with that depraved monster?”
Goyle gave Hermione a smirk as he ignored her question. “The holier-than-thou-mudblood doesn’t look so haughty anymore, does she Crabbe? Got to admit Granger, you have one hell of a body.” He licked his lips as if a feast had been set before him. “Almost a pity to see Damien blemish it, but he does it in such an entertaining way. He’ll leave you screaming.”
...
GREGORY FUCKING GOYLE DOES NOT TALK LIKE THIS.
I mean really. What in the everloving hell gave the author the idea that Crabbe and Goyle are anything like this eloquent?
Hermione shivered uncontrollably. She was cold, humiliated and terribly frightened. Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable. It had been horrible enough being exposed to Damien’s eyes, but now to have these two clowns gawk at her was mortifying. She felt like an animal in a zoo being stared at by the visitors. No, the animals had it better; no one could touch them.
Crabbe gave a chuckle in response to his partner’s joke.
That's more like it. Crabbe's so slow on the uptake that Hermione can run through a paragraph of internal monologue before he reacts to the joke. I doubt it was intentional but it actually makes sense.
Goyle once again left his eyes soak in her beauty before saying, “Crabbe here just doesn’t appreciate a well-developed female body. He’d rather shag that little orphan bitch you adopted. Damien has promised her to him. Maybe we can have a foursome. Would you like that Granger?”
Just so we're quite clear that Crabbe is a paedophile.
She felt the bile rising in her throat. Wasn’t it enough they had her to debase?
Hermione in this fic has already been debased. Anyway, Goyle molests her whilst giving her lunch and:
Crabbe stood by, smirking at her humiliation. She attempted to glare at him, but the spoon being shoved into her mouth once more prevented this. Suddenly, a door slam echoed in the room and she cried out in pain as the spoon struck her front teeth when Goyle jumped.
“Goyle!” Damien shouted. “I see your are taking advantage of a prisoner again. Haven’t I warned you before that you only touch when the Great One or myself has granted you permission? Perhaps I should cut that hand off. I’m sure that would be a lesson not soon forgotten. But, sadly, you would not be much use to the cause with a missing hand. I suppose ten lashes will have to suffice. Strip!”
Goyle looked at Damien as fear covered his face. “Here? Now? In front of her?”
“Yes!” Damien shouted. “Here and now. Don’t you wish Miss Granger to see your ‘handsome’ body? You’ve seen hers. Don’t worry! I doubt she has the desire to watch. Crabbe, you will inflict the punishment. If you hold back, I will add two lashes for everyone I feel is wielded too lightly.”
Hermione turned her head. She had not desire to see Goyle’s naked body, or to see a man beaten even though at the moment a part of her wished she were the one holding the whip.
Canon!Hermione would have magicked herself free, grabbed the whip and done it herself.
She winched as she heard Goyle scream in pain, wondering just how long it would be before the screams were hers. When the punishment was complete Damien ordered both Goyle and Crabbe from the chamber, not even allowing Goyle to dress.
This subplot of having Goyle running naked around the secret base doesn't seem to come to anything.
“Hermione, I apologize for the interruption, but one must keep the underlings in place. Shall we get back to the subject of why you were brought here? You are one third of the Covenant that defeated Lord Voldemort and temporarily slowed the Death Eater take over of the Wizard World. As you are aware, there is a new leader known only as the Great One. Voldemort was stupid, a mere insect when compared to The Great One. With the assistance of the other Death Eaters and myself, the Great One will bring to an end the wizard world as you know it.”
“The Great One respects the Covenant members and realizes that together the three of you could be a roadblock to our success. If I had my way, you would already be dead. I, however, respect my leader and will follow orders. Although you are a Mudblood, the Great One feels your assistance could greatly aid our cause. Therefore, I have been instructed to offer you a choice. Join us, or die.” Damien smile was cold and evil.
So it seems that the Great One is just Voldemort Mk. II, complete with the whole blood purity business and taking over the for some reason capitalised "Wizard World" and everything. Boring.
“There is no choice,” Hermione responded. “I would rather die than become one of you. Inflict the Avada Kedavra curse, you bastard.” Hermione held her breath; prepared for the end.
Canon!Hermione wouldn't be afraid to die, but on the other hand wouldn't throw her life away like this because it's not exactly going to achieve anything.
“Hermione, Hermione.” Damien laughed wickedly. “There will be no Avada Kedavra curse. Look around your chamber. If you decide to die it will not be a quick and easy death by use of a curse. Have you not noticed? I do not even carry a wand.
Upon which canon!Hermione broke free and defeated him because she's far better at wandless magic.
Your death will be long and painful. You will actually beg for me to kill you, but I won’t. I enjoy watching people suffer. Do you want to suffer, Hermione?”
One glance at Damien’s face was adequate to inform Hermione that he didn’t wish for her to join them. He wanted her to say no, so that he could enjoy torturing her to death.
“Don’t answer that. The Great One has ordered that you be given every chance to see the err of your ways and join us. I will give you 48 hrs to think about your decision. But before I leave, let me give you a mini tour of your quarters, I want to show you the wonderful ways in which you can be made to suffer.” Damien had a smile on his face, indicative of how much he would enjoy giving this tour.
Upon which follows descriptions of various medieval torture instruments which the author probably got from the website he credited. I'm not sure why Damien went to all this effort to kit out the torture chamber when he could just use the Cruciatus Curse, but whatever.
There had been plenty of opportunity for Hermione to inspect the surroundings and she didn’t necessarily desire a guided tour. She knew her thirteenth century history. This was plan and simply a torture chamber and Damien was a demented individual that enjoyed his work. She had also come to the realization that it was best not to fight Damien, not if she wanted to live to escape. She had to humor him. What she needed to do was get out of this cage, but how?
How about an Unlocking Charm? That is to say, one of the first spells we ever saw her use in the canon, which as an adult she should have no problem being able to do wandlessly and nonverbally? Or would that be too simple?
"This might interest you." Damien picked up a metal, pair-shaped device. As he held it up, light glinted off the sharp, pointed prongs. "The Pear." As he explained the torturous ways the device was used, Hermione's stomach clenched in horror. He indicated a screw at the end and as he turned it, Hermione's body broke out in a cold sweat as she imagined the excruciating pain. Her body shook in revulsion.
A link for the morbidly curious. I have to point out that there's little historical evidence for it being used in the way the author has in mind. Or indeed the other way the author has in mind.
To be honest, this whole scene would probably be a lot more horrifying if it didn't remind me of the bit in Terry Pratchett's Wyrd Sisters where Nanny Ogg and the king's ghost are playing I Spy in the dungeon.
She shuddered as he picked up another device.
"Are you fond of cats Hermione?"
She nodded, swallowing nervously.
"Do you own a cat?"
She thought of Crookshanks as he continued.
It's rare that Crookshanks gets a mention in fanfic. The only one I can think of offhand is My Immortal:
“Crookshanks!” I shouted at him. Voldemort fell of his broom and started to scream.
That only serves to remind me that HE!Hermione is getting out-badassed by motherfucking Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way of all people. I hate this fic.
“What if I were to agree to join you?” Hermione said almost desperately. “Would I be set free?”
“If you mean free as in able to return to your beloved Harry Potter, then no! But you would not be tortured and you would get to live and serve the Great One. Of course, you would have to pass two tests in order to convince me of you sincerity.”
Hermione knew that her only way to get out of here was to agree to join them, but what tests would she have to face. Coming from this sick individual, Hermione knew the tests would most likely also be sick. “May I ask what those two tests would be?”
“But, of course. The first would be for you to willingly pleasure me.”
Of course it is. Everything in this fic has to involve sex somehow.
“There is an execution that some consider worse even than being burnt at the stake with a slow, small fire, or being dipped into boiling oil. The victim is hung upside down from a two by four. Their feet tied to the board. The saw is placed between their legs and they are sawed in half. Owing to the inverted position, which assures ample oxygenation of the brain and impedes the general loss of blood, the victim does not lose consciousness until the saw reaches the navel -and even sometimes the breast, if one is to believe accounts of the early eighteen-hundreds.”
“My second test would be to help you saw some innocent victim in half.” Hermione stated in shock. There was no way she could ever be part of such an act. Unless she could devise an escape plan, she would have no choice but to die a horrible and painfully long death.
And, given that this is HE!Hermione, how likely is it she can devise an escape plan? Better get ready for that horrible and painfully long death. Maybe then the actual Hermione can return and restore some sanity to the proceedings.
“Not just any victim,” Damien continued “but one selected by the Great One. Actually the victim will be joining us in about a week whether you decide to become part of the organization or not. You will either help with the execution and become a part of our group or you will get to witness the execution as one of your last visions before you are put to death.”
Hermione didn’t want to know the answer to the next question, but had to ask, “Who?”
“The one that calls you mum.”
DO IT.
Continued... (brain bleach still advised)
No, seriously. What follows is sick and wrong even by the atrocious standards of Hogwarts Exposed, and absolutely unsuitable for anyone.
Hermione awoke at the sound of a slamming door. She blinked several times, trying to clear her blurry eyes. Her heart thumped as she wondered who was coming into the room. Part of her hoped it was her captor, but she also feared looking into the face of the pervert who had brought her here.
A pervert. Which distinguishes him from everyone else in this fic how exactly?
Hermione had lost all track of time since her imprisonment.
The entire scene is ambiguous as to whether it's a flashback or the present. Once again, it's a narrative device I could see working in the hands of a halfway competent writer to show how she's lost track of time.
She had opened the gift that young Ronald had given her thinking it was from Harry. She had barely touched it when she felt as though a hook just behind her naval had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground and she went speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color. She remembered her feet slamming into the ground and then everything went blank. When she came to, she was in her iron body cage, totally naked.
Upon which she cast a wandless Unlocking Charm, turned into her Animagus form and fought her way out of the place. Too much to hope for that we'll get cool, badass canon!Hermione now though.
The cage was rather simple. It consisted of an iron band that encircled the waist at the hips. From this band two addition iron bands were connected at either side in the front. These bands crossed at the chest and then bent over the shoulders again crossing in the back before connecting to the waistband. Wrist cuffs were attached to either side and a hinged iron band went between the legs and closed at the back. Attachments for chains at the shoulders secured her to the wall.
Instead we get a long and disturbingly fetishistic torture scene. It gives me the Agony in Pink vibe of being written not just as torture porn but as actual porn, and I'm at least grateful that it's a fraction of the length.
“Hello Hermione,” the malicious voice echoed. “I do hope you don’t mind me calling you by your first name. Professor Granger seems so formal for two people that are going to get to know each other quite intimately. My name is Damien.”
Click to viewHer heart beat faster and her face felt hot as she felt him looking over her naked body.
Of course she's naked. I mean, if you want to drive home your message that nudity is perfectly innocent, what better way than through a disturbingly sexualised naked torture scene?
He moved closer and she shivered as he stepped into the light before her. His face was sallow and covered in spots. His eyes were gray, but the parts that should be white were a very sick looking yellow.
This is the most description we've had of a character's appearance in the entire fic, and it's to tell us that the baddie is unattractive. Because he has to be.
"I've always thought you were attractive, but those pictures in the Daily Prophet don't do this face justice." As he said this, his hand cupped her chin and he jerked her head so that she was looking directly at him. "The things I've imagined doing to you." He was closer now, his large, oily nose mere centimeters from her own. Her body trembled, partially in fear and partially in anger as the man took a step back and began running his eyes over her again. Feeling the fury bubble inside her at this humiliation, she waited until his eyes were once more on her face before she spat at him.
Finally, some backbone.
The sharp crack echoed in the dingy room and she bit back a cry as the tears formed in her eyes. Her face stung where he had struck her and he was staring at her again, a menacing look in his eyes. "You won't stay pretty for long if you keep that up." He turned on her, walking towards a low table along the far wall. He spun quickly after picking something up and as he moved slowly towards her, she was able to see that he was pulling latex gloves over his hands. "Do you think they're looking for you, Hermione? Do you think they even care?" He was standing in front of her again.
For all the POV hops around in this fic, it remains steadfastly in Hermione's in this scene. That's good on the one hand, but on the other it means that we have no idea at all of who this guy really is and what his motivations are. If we don't see his POV we have to look at his words and actions to have an idea of that, and so far he's revealed nothing beyond "is evil". Contrast with Voldemort: even as of the end of Philosopher's Stone we have some idea of the kind of person he is. Like Ron in The Last War, I just don't care about Damien and what he does because he's not a character so much as a diabolus ex machina.
She shook as the gloves traced down her body and she clenched her teeth as her body shuddered against his touch. It was neither smooth, nor sexy, but the touch of a man who hated women, who looked down upon them.
This coming from the author who's turned one of the most badass characters in Harry Potter into a damsel in distress.
Women were objects to this man who was now exploring her most private parts and she felt the hot tears beginning to stream down her face as the violations came again and again.
I wondered how long it would take.
Her voice wavered as she replied, "Why have you brought me here?"
"Ah, you do speak. I suppose that since you have deigned to talk to me, I can answer that. The Great One has requested your presence here. He wants you to join us."
Ah, so Damien doesn't actually know who the Great One (who, incidentally, has very unoriginal taste in titles) is.
"Join you?" she spat out.
This is what Reasoning with Vampires refers to as "contaminated connotations" because, having shown Hermione spitting earlier in the scene, "spat out" as a dialogue tag is ambiguous as to whether it was meant figuratively or literally. Anyway, he leaves and Crabbe and Goyle enter.
Hermione would not have needed to hear their names in order to recognize her two new visitors. From the size of them, it was evident that they hadn’t changed their eating habits. “Crabbe, Goyle have you stooped this low? How can you associate with that depraved monster?”
Goyle gave Hermione a smirk as he ignored her question. “The holier-than-thou-mudblood doesn’t look so haughty anymore, does she Crabbe? Got to admit Granger, you have one hell of a body.” He licked his lips as if a feast had been set before him. “Almost a pity to see Damien blemish it, but he does it in such an entertaining way. He’ll leave you screaming.”
...
GREGORY FUCKING GOYLE DOES NOT TALK LIKE THIS.
I mean really. What in the everloving hell gave the author the idea that Crabbe and Goyle are anything like this eloquent?
Hermione shivered uncontrollably. She was cold, humiliated and terribly frightened. Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable. It had been horrible enough being exposed to Damien’s eyes, but now to have these two clowns gawk at her was mortifying. She felt like an animal in a zoo being stared at by the visitors. No, the animals had it better; no one could touch them.
Crabbe gave a chuckle in response to his partner’s joke.
That's more like it. Crabbe's so slow on the uptake that Hermione can run through a paragraph of internal monologue before he reacts to the joke. I doubt it was intentional but it actually makes sense.
Goyle once again left his eyes soak in her beauty before saying, “Crabbe here just doesn’t appreciate a well-developed female body. He’d rather shag that little orphan bitch you adopted. Damien has promised her to him. Maybe we can have a foursome. Would you like that Granger?”
Just so we're quite clear that Crabbe is a paedophile.
She felt the bile rising in her throat. Wasn’t it enough they had her to debase?
Hermione in this fic has already been debased. Anyway, Goyle molests her whilst giving her lunch and:
Crabbe stood by, smirking at her humiliation. She attempted to glare at him, but the spoon being shoved into her mouth once more prevented this. Suddenly, a door slam echoed in the room and she cried out in pain as the spoon struck her front teeth when Goyle jumped.
“Goyle!” Damien shouted. “I see your are taking advantage of a prisoner again. Haven’t I warned you before that you only touch when the Great One or myself has granted you permission? Perhaps I should cut that hand off. I’m sure that would be a lesson not soon forgotten. But, sadly, you would not be much use to the cause with a missing hand. I suppose ten lashes will have to suffice. Strip!”
Goyle looked at Damien as fear covered his face. “Here? Now? In front of her?”
“Yes!” Damien shouted. “Here and now. Don’t you wish Miss Granger to see your ‘handsome’ body? You’ve seen hers. Don’t worry! I doubt she has the desire to watch. Crabbe, you will inflict the punishment. If you hold back, I will add two lashes for everyone I feel is wielded too lightly.”
Hermione turned her head. She had not desire to see Goyle’s naked body, or to see a man beaten even though at the moment a part of her wished she were the one holding the whip.
Canon!Hermione would have magicked herself free, grabbed the whip and done it herself.
She winched as she heard Goyle scream in pain, wondering just how long it would be before the screams were hers. When the punishment was complete Damien ordered both Goyle and Crabbe from the chamber, not even allowing Goyle to dress.
This subplot of having Goyle running naked around the secret base doesn't seem to come to anything.
“Hermione, I apologize for the interruption, but one must keep the underlings in place. Shall we get back to the subject of why you were brought here? You are one third of the Covenant that defeated Lord Voldemort and temporarily slowed the Death Eater take over of the Wizard World. As you are aware, there is a new leader known only as the Great One. Voldemort was stupid, a mere insect when compared to The Great One. With the assistance of the other Death Eaters and myself, the Great One will bring to an end the wizard world as you know it.”
“The Great One respects the Covenant members and realizes that together the three of you could be a roadblock to our success. If I had my way, you would already be dead. I, however, respect my leader and will follow orders. Although you are a Mudblood, the Great One feels your assistance could greatly aid our cause. Therefore, I have been instructed to offer you a choice. Join us, or die.” Damien smile was cold and evil.
So it seems that the Great One is just Voldemort Mk. II, complete with the whole blood purity business and taking over the for some reason capitalised "Wizard World" and everything. Boring.
“There is no choice,” Hermione responded. “I would rather die than become one of you. Inflict the Avada Kedavra curse, you bastard.” Hermione held her breath; prepared for the end.
Canon!Hermione wouldn't be afraid to die, but on the other hand wouldn't throw her life away like this because it's not exactly going to achieve anything.
“Hermione, Hermione.” Damien laughed wickedly. “There will be no Avada Kedavra curse. Look around your chamber. If you decide to die it will not be a quick and easy death by use of a curse. Have you not noticed? I do not even carry a wand.
Upon which canon!Hermione broke free and defeated him because she's far better at wandless magic.
Your death will be long and painful. You will actually beg for me to kill you, but I won’t. I enjoy watching people suffer. Do you want to suffer, Hermione?”
One glance at Damien’s face was adequate to inform Hermione that he didn’t wish for her to join them. He wanted her to say no, so that he could enjoy torturing her to death.
“Don’t answer that. The Great One has ordered that you be given every chance to see the err of your ways and join us. I will give you 48 hrs to think about your decision. But before I leave, let me give you a mini tour of your quarters, I want to show you the wonderful ways in which you can be made to suffer.” Damien had a smile on his face, indicative of how much he would enjoy giving this tour.
Upon which follows descriptions of various medieval torture instruments which the author probably got from the website he credited. I'm not sure why Damien went to all this effort to kit out the torture chamber when he could just use the Cruciatus Curse, but whatever.
There had been plenty of opportunity for Hermione to inspect the surroundings and she didn’t necessarily desire a guided tour. She knew her thirteenth century history. This was plan and simply a torture chamber and Damien was a demented individual that enjoyed his work. She had also come to the realization that it was best not to fight Damien, not if she wanted to live to escape. She had to humor him. What she needed to do was get out of this cage, but how?
How about an Unlocking Charm? That is to say, one of the first spells we ever saw her use in the canon, which as an adult she should have no problem being able to do wandlessly and nonverbally? Or would that be too simple?
"This might interest you." Damien picked up a metal, pair-shaped device. As he held it up, light glinted off the sharp, pointed prongs. "The Pear." As he explained the torturous ways the device was used, Hermione's stomach clenched in horror. He indicated a screw at the end and as he turned it, Hermione's body broke out in a cold sweat as she imagined the excruciating pain. Her body shook in revulsion.
A link for the morbidly curious. I have to point out that there's little historical evidence for it being used in the way the author has in mind. Or indeed the other way the author has in mind.
To be honest, this whole scene would probably be a lot more horrifying if it didn't remind me of the bit in Terry Pratchett's Wyrd Sisters where Nanny Ogg and the king's ghost are playing I Spy in the dungeon.
She shuddered as he picked up another device.
"Are you fond of cats Hermione?"
She nodded, swallowing nervously.
"Do you own a cat?"
She thought of Crookshanks as he continued.
It's rare that Crookshanks gets a mention in fanfic. The only one I can think of offhand is My Immortal:
“Crookshanks!” I shouted at him. Voldemort fell of his broom and started to scream.
That only serves to remind me that HE!Hermione is getting out-badassed by motherfucking Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way of all people. I hate this fic.
“What if I were to agree to join you?” Hermione said almost desperately. “Would I be set free?”
“If you mean free as in able to return to your beloved Harry Potter, then no! But you would not be tortured and you would get to live and serve the Great One. Of course, you would have to pass two tests in order to convince me of you sincerity.”
Hermione knew that her only way to get out of here was to agree to join them, but what tests would she have to face. Coming from this sick individual, Hermione knew the tests would most likely also be sick. “May I ask what those two tests would be?”
“But, of course. The first would be for you to willingly pleasure me.”
Of course it is. Everything in this fic has to involve sex somehow.
“There is an execution that some consider worse even than being burnt at the stake with a slow, small fire, or being dipped into boiling oil. The victim is hung upside down from a two by four. Their feet tied to the board. The saw is placed between their legs and they are sawed in half. Owing to the inverted position, which assures ample oxygenation of the brain and impedes the general loss of blood, the victim does not lose consciousness until the saw reaches the navel -and even sometimes the breast, if one is to believe accounts of the early eighteen-hundreds.”
“My second test would be to help you saw some innocent victim in half.” Hermione stated in shock. There was no way she could ever be part of such an act. Unless she could devise an escape plan, she would have no choice but to die a horrible and painfully long death.
And, given that this is HE!Hermione, how likely is it she can devise an escape plan? Better get ready for that horrible and painfully long death. Maybe then the actual Hermione can return and restore some sanity to the proceedings.
“Not just any victim,” Damien continued “but one selected by the Great One. Actually the victim will be joining us in about a week whether you decide to become part of the organization or not. You will either help with the execution and become a part of our group or you will get to witness the execution as one of your last visions before you are put to death.”
Hermione didn’t want to know the answer to the next question, but had to ask, “Who?”
“The one that calls you mum.”
DO IT.
Continued... (brain bleach still advised)