The Best of Intentions - A gift for tempered_rose!
Title: The Best of Intentions
Author: To Be Revealed!
Recipient: tempered_rose
Pairing(s): Bellatrix/Hermione
Word Count: 1,250
Rating: R
Warnings: Psychological mindfuckery.
Summary: Hermione always was too smart for her own good.
The girl is nothing to look at. Her horrible hair, usually so bushy, clings to her bloody face. Her clothing, so disgustingly Muggle, is ripped and filthy. She looks almost dead, her skin pale. Only her eyes have life, darting everywhere, taking in the group standing in front of her and the forest beyond them.
No doubt the girl thinks she can escape. The three did it before, running out of Malfoy Manor. But this time there is no elf to help them. She took care of that little traitor herself, but not before he ruined one of Narcissa’s favorite chandeliers.
The memory of the Dark Lord’s punishment that night caresses her mind, almost teasing her attention away from the subject at hand. Shaking her head, Bellatrix snaps her fingers.
The boys fight, throwing useless punches and insults as they are levitated away. Greyback takes the ginger-haired weasel, and Snape takes Potter. It is his duty to prepare the fallen hero for their lord. Bellatrix doesn’t cast them a second thought. She doesn’t like men.
Except for the Dark Lord, of course, but he is so much more than a mortal man.
Bellatrix snaps her fingers again, conjuring a collar around the girl’s throat. Hermione Jean Granger, Mudblood #1, is hers, promised as a reward for setting up this trap.
The magic collar glows silver-hot, choking off the girl’s attempt at casting a spell. A thrill fills Bellatrix from throat to toes, warming her blood. She likes when they fight.
Swishing her wand, she draws a matching leash. The thin cord lights up the darkness, pulling Hermione to her.
“Come, pet.”
*
The girl’s back is bony, the knobs of her spine pressing uncomfortably against Bellatrix’s calves. A bit of discomfort is nothing for her-and is actually pleasing in a way-but she won’t let Hermione know that.
“You’re too thin. Didn’t your parents ever feed you?” She chuckles nastily. “Oh, I’m sorry. They probably couldn’t afford to feed you. Muggles must have a hard time supporting themselves, dirty animals that they are.”
She feels the strain of muscles, but Hermione can’t move a millimeter. A spell keeps her body in position: on her hands and knees, head down, back straight. Bellatrix is rather proud of that spell; she invented it specifically for the purpose of training pets, rather than using something like the Body-Bind Curse.
Perhaps she will go into business when the war is over. She doesn’t need the Galleons, but there will be a surplus of useless Mudbloods soon. The Dark Lord is close to victory-there are only a few groups stubbornly clinging to the fight.
She digs the spike of her heel into Hermione’s back at the thought of the damn Order of the Phoenix. It was a pity they hadn’t eradicated the Order during the first war, instead of taking the time to enjoy the hunt for the traitors. This time the Death Eaters had learnt their lesson.
Even so, Bellatrix takes time every day to play with her pet. What is the use of owning a pet if one doesn’t enjoy it?
“Soon you’ll have a friend, pet. Won’t that be nice?”
There’s no answer. There never is. She keeps a strong Sticking Charm on Hermione’s lips. After the first hour together, the girl’s grating voice gnawed at Bellatrix’s nerves. As an added bonus, not being able to talk has eaten at Hermione’s psyche. The only time the spell comes off is when they “play.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of both of you. There’s plenty of my attention to go around.”
*
“Hermione!”
Bellatrix nods, and Hermione says, “Hello, Luna.”
“Everyone thought you were dead, Hermione, but I knew the Crumple-Horned Snorkack would keep you safe, just like it saved Daddy.”
Bellatrix snorts in disgust. Now she can see why Luna Lovegood was up for adoption in a world that needed every drop of pure, precious blood. The girl is crazy-crazier than Aunt Walburga after Regulus disappeared.
“Put this on her, pet.” Bellatrix hands Hermione a silver choker. It is identical to the one around Hermione’s neck, drawn from Bellatrix’s magic. She smirks as the girl obeys, locking the collar at the base of Luna’s throat. The soft snick catapults Luna into blissful silence.
“Hermione?” she asks, finding her voice a minute later. Bellatrix nods approvingly, preferring the hesitant tone to the confident nonsense Luna had mumbled until the collar went on. She wishes Narcissa would have let her do something similar when Luna was in the Malfoy dungeons. No matter-Luna is hers now. There is no use in reliving the past, not when she has two pets in front of her.
Motioning with two fingers, Bellatrix summons Hermione back to her side. Another gesture sends the girl to her knees, her left cheek pressed to the velvet of Bellatrix’s robe. “Hermione is my pet. She’s learned the importance of behaving. So will you, or I will punish her for your misbehavior, Luna.”
Hermione flinches, probably remembering some of her early punishments. Bellatrix pats the top of her head soothingly. They have moved beyond those early days. It was fun to let Hermione fight in the beginning, but she prefers having an obedient pet. A trained tongue is much more effective than a rebellious one. It is easy enough to find a new toy when she wants an evening’s diversion.
Luna’s gaze sharpens, her eyes losing their dreamy look. Her silvery grey eyes are one of the reasons Bellatrix picked her. With her blonde hair and light eyes, she is a good match to Hermione. “The Hermione Granger I know would never obey you. She’s stronger than that.”
“Is she?” Pulling Luna’s wand from a pocket, she tosses it to the floor. “Snap it, pet.”
They both watch as Hermione picks up Luna’s wand. Bellatrix’s focus is on Luna, and she sees hope in her face. She can practically read the girl’s thoughts: Hermione won’t do this. She will free us.
Hermione snaps Luna’s wand with a sharp crack. The unicorn hair core floats to the floor, mirroring the path of tears glistening on Luna’s cheeks.
*
“You were very good earlier. Come up for your reward, pet.” Bellatrix pats the bed and spreads her legs.
Hermione obeys, most of her focus going into pleasing Bellatrix, but some seeps into the one part of her mind that still belongs to her.
She had been so sure they were doing the right thing. They knew it was a trap, but she had convinced Harry and Ron to go anyway. The lure of help was too strong to pass up, especially after they had been alone for months. At the first sign of danger, they would Disapparate.
That had been the plan: wear the cloak, turn together, and see who was waiting for them. But when they had landed in the clearing, they had been stuck in place, all their magic stripped away.
She still had nightmares of Harry’s pale face when Snape grabbed his neck, and Ron’s scared eyes when Greyback licked his cheek. She didn’t think of them anymore. She couldn’t, not when her own life had turned into a living nightmare.
Ironically, Bellatrix’s spellwork had saved her from going insane. Most of her mind belonged to Bellatrix, an obedient persona created and put in place by Legilimency.
She thought of Luna, about to undergo the same torment. And this time, she would help make it happen.
Hermione screamed, but no one could hear her.
*
Author: To Be Revealed!
Recipient: tempered_rose
Pairing(s): Bellatrix/Hermione
Word Count: 1,250
Rating: R
Warnings: Psychological mindfuckery.
Summary: Hermione always was too smart for her own good.
The girl is nothing to look at. Her horrible hair, usually so bushy, clings to her bloody face. Her clothing, so disgustingly Muggle, is ripped and filthy. She looks almost dead, her skin pale. Only her eyes have life, darting everywhere, taking in the group standing in front of her and the forest beyond them.
No doubt the girl thinks she can escape. The three did it before, running out of Malfoy Manor. But this time there is no elf to help them. She took care of that little traitor herself, but not before he ruined one of Narcissa’s favorite chandeliers.
The memory of the Dark Lord’s punishment that night caresses her mind, almost teasing her attention away from the subject at hand. Shaking her head, Bellatrix snaps her fingers.
The boys fight, throwing useless punches and insults as they are levitated away. Greyback takes the ginger-haired weasel, and Snape takes Potter. It is his duty to prepare the fallen hero for their lord. Bellatrix doesn’t cast them a second thought. She doesn’t like men.
Except for the Dark Lord, of course, but he is so much more than a mortal man.
Bellatrix snaps her fingers again, conjuring a collar around the girl’s throat. Hermione Jean Granger, Mudblood #1, is hers, promised as a reward for setting up this trap.
The magic collar glows silver-hot, choking off the girl’s attempt at casting a spell. A thrill fills Bellatrix from throat to toes, warming her blood. She likes when they fight.
Swishing her wand, she draws a matching leash. The thin cord lights up the darkness, pulling Hermione to her.
“Come, pet.”
*
The girl’s back is bony, the knobs of her spine pressing uncomfortably against Bellatrix’s calves. A bit of discomfort is nothing for her-and is actually pleasing in a way-but she won’t let Hermione know that.
“You’re too thin. Didn’t your parents ever feed you?” She chuckles nastily. “Oh, I’m sorry. They probably couldn’t afford to feed you. Muggles must have a hard time supporting themselves, dirty animals that they are.”
She feels the strain of muscles, but Hermione can’t move a millimeter. A spell keeps her body in position: on her hands and knees, head down, back straight. Bellatrix is rather proud of that spell; she invented it specifically for the purpose of training pets, rather than using something like the Body-Bind Curse.
Perhaps she will go into business when the war is over. She doesn’t need the Galleons, but there will be a surplus of useless Mudbloods soon. The Dark Lord is close to victory-there are only a few groups stubbornly clinging to the fight.
She digs the spike of her heel into Hermione’s back at the thought of the damn Order of the Phoenix. It was a pity they hadn’t eradicated the Order during the first war, instead of taking the time to enjoy the hunt for the traitors. This time the Death Eaters had learnt their lesson.
Even so, Bellatrix takes time every day to play with her pet. What is the use of owning a pet if one doesn’t enjoy it?
“Soon you’ll have a friend, pet. Won’t that be nice?”
There’s no answer. There never is. She keeps a strong Sticking Charm on Hermione’s lips. After the first hour together, the girl’s grating voice gnawed at Bellatrix’s nerves. As an added bonus, not being able to talk has eaten at Hermione’s psyche. The only time the spell comes off is when they “play.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of both of you. There’s plenty of my attention to go around.”
*
“Hermione!”
Bellatrix nods, and Hermione says, “Hello, Luna.”
“Everyone thought you were dead, Hermione, but I knew the Crumple-Horned Snorkack would keep you safe, just like it saved Daddy.”
Bellatrix snorts in disgust. Now she can see why Luna Lovegood was up for adoption in a world that needed every drop of pure, precious blood. The girl is crazy-crazier than Aunt Walburga after Regulus disappeared.
“Put this on her, pet.” Bellatrix hands Hermione a silver choker. It is identical to the one around Hermione’s neck, drawn from Bellatrix’s magic. She smirks as the girl obeys, locking the collar at the base of Luna’s throat. The soft snick catapults Luna into blissful silence.
“Hermione?” she asks, finding her voice a minute later. Bellatrix nods approvingly, preferring the hesitant tone to the confident nonsense Luna had mumbled until the collar went on. She wishes Narcissa would have let her do something similar when Luna was in the Malfoy dungeons. No matter-Luna is hers now. There is no use in reliving the past, not when she has two pets in front of her.
Motioning with two fingers, Bellatrix summons Hermione back to her side. Another gesture sends the girl to her knees, her left cheek pressed to the velvet of Bellatrix’s robe. “Hermione is my pet. She’s learned the importance of behaving. So will you, or I will punish her for your misbehavior, Luna.”
Hermione flinches, probably remembering some of her early punishments. Bellatrix pats the top of her head soothingly. They have moved beyond those early days. It was fun to let Hermione fight in the beginning, but she prefers having an obedient pet. A trained tongue is much more effective than a rebellious one. It is easy enough to find a new toy when she wants an evening’s diversion.
Luna’s gaze sharpens, her eyes losing their dreamy look. Her silvery grey eyes are one of the reasons Bellatrix picked her. With her blonde hair and light eyes, she is a good match to Hermione. “The Hermione Granger I know would never obey you. She’s stronger than that.”
“Is she?” Pulling Luna’s wand from a pocket, she tosses it to the floor. “Snap it, pet.”
They both watch as Hermione picks up Luna’s wand. Bellatrix’s focus is on Luna, and she sees hope in her face. She can practically read the girl’s thoughts: Hermione won’t do this. She will free us.
Hermione snaps Luna’s wand with a sharp crack. The unicorn hair core floats to the floor, mirroring the path of tears glistening on Luna’s cheeks.
*
“You were very good earlier. Come up for your reward, pet.” Bellatrix pats the bed and spreads her legs.
Hermione obeys, most of her focus going into pleasing Bellatrix, but some seeps into the one part of her mind that still belongs to her.
She had been so sure they were doing the right thing. They knew it was a trap, but she had convinced Harry and Ron to go anyway. The lure of help was too strong to pass up, especially after they had been alone for months. At the first sign of danger, they would Disapparate.
That had been the plan: wear the cloak, turn together, and see who was waiting for them. But when they had landed in the clearing, they had been stuck in place, all their magic stripped away.
She still had nightmares of Harry’s pale face when Snape grabbed his neck, and Ron’s scared eyes when Greyback licked his cheek. She didn’t think of them anymore. She couldn’t, not when her own life had turned into a living nightmare.
Ironically, Bellatrix’s spellwork had saved her from going insane. Most of her mind belonged to Bellatrix, an obedient persona created and put in place by Legilimency.
She thought of Luna, about to undergo the same torment. And this time, she would help make it happen.
Hermione screamed, but no one could hear her.
*