WARNINGS: This fic contains dub-con elements, magical bonding and scenes of a sexual nature. Draco/Hermione are the main pairing. Please note that this fic contains triggers for those of you sensitive to dub/non con, infidelity and violence. Proceed at your own risk.
Hermione Granger whimpered at the pain as she was jerked back onto her feet by her hair. The cruel, clutching hand that fisted her locks was unrelenting and demanded she retake her feet in spite of the pain of being Crucioed again and again. She gasped at the additional insult when she felt several precious strands tug free of her scalp with a painful sting.
She had no recollection anymore of how long she had been there in Malfoy Manor, dragged before the Death Eaters by that monstrous werewolf and kept at the mercy of a deranged Bellatrix LeStrange.
"Where is Harry Potter?" Bellatrix interrogated her for the thousandth time, seeming to truly believe that after all this time, after being relentlessly tortured for what felt like years, Hermione might change her answer.
"I don't know," Hermione whispered, unable to speak the words out loud because her throat was so raw and ragged from all the screaming.
Bellatrix backhanded her.
"LIAR!" she screamed, "You'll tell me or I'll have someone rape it out of you, bitch!"
Hermione felt dread curl in her stomach. She'd been waiting for it, though she had expected that rather than a threat, that would be the last resort. That she would be thrown to Fenrir Greyback so he could have his perverted way with her before he tore her throat out with his teeth.
"Please," Hermione whispered, her face wet with tears, one eye rapidly blackening thanks to the many times she'd fallen to the floor and been backhanded, her lip split open and dribbling her so called 'dirty' blood down her chin.
"Please… I don't know…" Hermione whispered.
"You're a filthy little liar, Mudblood, and if you don't tell me I'm going to let Greyback rape the truth out of you," Bellatrix hissed in her face. Her claw-like hand buried in Hermione's hair again, tugging her head back uncomfortably far, her wand to Hermione's throat threateningly.
"But I don't know where he is," Hermione sobbed. She was too far gone from the torture to care that she was crying in front of the Malfoys and the Snatchers and the other present Death Eaters.
"Your loyalty will see you fucked and murdered," Bellatrix snarled in her face, "GREYBACK!"
Hermione whimpered and sobbed as she was thrown on the floor again, face-down. She could hear the sound of that monster's gleeful chuckles, and could hear the click of his talon-like toenails on the marble floor as he came closer.
"You can't…." A small voice protested just as Hermione felt someone seize the back of her jumper and begin to lift her from where she sobbed on the floor.
"What did you say Draco?" Bellatrix demanded, though Hermione knew that in the cavernous room, silent but for Hermione's sobs and Greyback's glee, she had heard the words.
Hermione lifted her head slowly, her eyes meeting the grey, terrified pair of Draco Malfoy. She could tell at a glance that the protest had left his lips involuntarily. That his mouth had spoken before his mind had given permission for those words to blurt out.
"Did you just tell me I can't let Greyback fuck this pathetic little Mudblood?" Bellatrix demanded, and Hermione saw the way Narcissa Malfoy gripped her son's forearm in a white-knuckled hold, as though she was attempting to pull him away from Bellatrix's gaze.
"Is that what you said to me, Drakey?" Bellatrix purred at him in such a way that Hermione felt herself shudder involuntarily.
"I'm going to fuck you until you bleed, sweetling," Hermione suddenly heard a deep, gravelly voice growl in her ear and she recoiled violently, her body screaming obscenities at her as she skidded backwards across the marble floor that was now riddled with claw marks where she'd dragged her fingernails deep into the stone in the throes of agony beneath Bellatrix LeStrange's wand.
"Don't you fucking touch me!" Hermione spat at the werewolf, her voice raw and croaky.
"Greyback," Bellatrix suddenly barked, "Get out."
"But you said I could have her!" the werewolf snarled. He was on all fours already, and his clawed hand groped at Hermione's ankle, trying to tug her closer, trying to pin her beneath him. Hermione kicked him in the face with all her might, eliciting a furious growl from the werewolf. She screamed in agony when he sank his claws into her calf-muscle right through the fabric of her jeans and slashed them down her skin even as he dragged her beneath him.
"I SAID GET OUT!" Bellatrix screamed, and Hermione didn't know if she should be grateful or terrified when the deranged witch latched onto the werewolf's fur and bodily threw him away from Hermione.
"The bitch is mine!" Greyback snarled ferociously, "I'm going to taste how fucking sweet she is!"
"Oh no," Bellatrix declared, wagging her finger at him like he was a bad dog, "No, it seems my Drakey likes this one. He'll rape the answers out of her!"
"Bella!" Narcissa Malfoy gasped "You can't be serious! This is my son and you want him to sully himself with a filthy mudblood?"
Hermione's eyes had swivelled to land on Draco Malfoy's face, and he was turning a disturbing shade of grey, since he was already so pale and washed out that simply turning white was no longer an option. He was staring back at her, looking utterly horror stricken and terrified.
"You heard the boy Cissy!" Bellatrix said sharply, even as she began to dance with glee, "He told me I couldn't let Greyback rape her. Don't worry Drakey, even the best of us are drawn in by their pretty looks, that's how they stole their magic from a real witch or wizard in the first place. Now take her upstairs and fuck her until she tells us where Potter and her other filthy friends are hiding."
Draco didn't move, and Hermione began to tremble. She knew that if he refused there would be trouble for all of them and more than anything, she wanted to avoid being anywhere near the clutches of Fenrir Greyback. Even if it meant having to allow Draco Malfoy to rape her. At least he wasn't likely to try and eat her flesh as he fucked her. Not like the mongrel would.
"What's the matter Drakey?" Bellatrix teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality, "Don't you have the bollocks for this task either? Did the Dark Lord make a mistake when he honoured you with the mark you've yet to earn? Would you like to join her on the floor to be tortured? Maybe you're a mudblood sympathiser. Is that it Draco? You think this little whore is better than purebloods like us? You think she deserves the same rights when she stole someone's magic?"
"Bella. No!" Narcissa tried to intervene, but Hermione could see that Malfoy had no other option. She knew the crazy bitch would make him do it, and as much as the idea of being raped turned her stomach, Hermione had known the minute they'd caught her that it was inevitable.
"Do it, Draco!" Bellatrix said, ignoring her sister as she turned her wand on her nephew. Draco stilled beneath it, and Narcissa drew her own wand on her sister.
"Don't you dare Bella," she warned coldly, "Don't you draw your wand on my son."
"I'm disappointed in you Cissy," Bellatrix said, her voice mocking as she faked heartbreak, "Greyback, lock Narcissa and her husband in their chambers!" she commanded. The werewolf was only too happy to oblige.
"What are you doing?" Narcissa demanded, shocked and horrified now.
"Do it Draco, or the mudblood dies, and your mother will be next!" Bellatrix screamed, losing her temper again.
"Please Draco," Hermione whispered, seeing no other option. She did not want him to rape her, and she could see he didn't want to do it. But if he refused she would die, no doubt at the fangs of the werewolf.
"Listen to that!" Bellatrix screeched, "The little whore wants you Drakey. Now take her upstairs and fuck her until she gives us the answers I want."
"Draco…" Narcissa said, already in the grip of Greyback while Lucius seemed utterly despondent, too afraid to speak up for his wife or son.
Hermione held her breath as Malfoy finally moved. He walked stiffly, looking anywhere but at her eyes. When he reached her, he took hold of her wrists roughly and hauled her to her feet. She was surprised by the strength of his grip, and even more so to learn he was trembling as much as she was though she had no idea if his was from fear or rage.
"Greyback, escort them and make sure the mudblood cannot escape," Bellatrix commanded while Draco tugged her along by the hand, walking swiftly, his back stiff, his grip on her wrist unrelenting.
The werewolf followed them.
"What's the matter sweetling?" he purred in her ear as they went, his foul breath hot against her clammy skin, "You too afraid of the big bad wolf? Is that it? Is that why you want a boy instead of me?"
Hermione didn't answer, though she did walk a little faster.
"Go ahead and try to run from me again sweetling," Greyback sneered, his voice lustful and gravelly now, "I love to chase down my prey. Really brings out the animal in me. You're going to love the way I bite."
Hermione felt the way Malfoy gripped her wrist a little tighter and tugged her forwards a little harder away from the werewolf.
"Enough!" Malfoy snapped at the werewolf as they reached what Hermione assumed to be his bedroom.
"Got to make sure the little bitch can't get away," Greyback said, shouldering his way into the room and going to the windows, which he conjured metal shutters to seal closed.
"Don't touch me!" Hermione hissed when he came back on his way out of the room and stalked close to her, trailing a clawed hand across her stomach as though he were imagining ripping into it and feasting on her entrails.
"Got to make sure she's ready for you, Malfoy," he said, and Hermione trembled in terror when the werewolf circled behind her. She began to cry when she felt a sharp tug accompanied by the sound of tearing fabric as he used his claws to shred the back of her jumper and her shirt, both of which fell open, exposing her back to the chilly air of Malfoy's bedroom.
She sobbed harder when she felt those same claws trail longingly over the small of her back while he purred in approval.
"You better fuck her good and proper boy," the werewolf growled threateningly at Malfoy, "I'll know if you don't leave your mark on her."
With that he walked out of the room, slamming the door and warding it as it locked magically behind him. Hermione flinched when Malfoy gripped her wrist again, tugging her deeper into the room. She had begun to tremble like a leaf now, her breath coming in short, gasping pants as the fear fought to overtake her mind. It took every effort to even remain on her feet when her body was in so much pain from the Cruciatus curse she'd been afflicted with time and time again. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, one of them almost swollen shut, and she squinted in confusion when she suddenly heard the sound of running water.
She turned to Malfoy, utterly bewildered as she suddenly found herself in a lavishly decorated bathroom where he was currently turning on the five shower-heads in the room, rapidly filling it with steam.
"You weren't supposed to get caught!" he hissed, suddenly jerking her close, his grey eyes serious and angry as he stood well within her personal space.
Hermione just stared at him, confused by his actions and his words.
"Listen Granger," he commanded, still hissing, as though hoping that the werewolf – who was no doubt outside the room and waiting to hear the sounds of her sobbing and crying out – wouldn't be able to hear him hiss over the sound of the running water, "Where is Potter? You've got to tell me. I don't want to fucking rape you, but if you don't tell me now, neither of us is going to have a choice."
"But I don't know," Hermione replied, her voice croaky and cracking from all the screaming, thick from crying and pain, "I don't know where they are. We move constantly and only got caught when Harry lost his temper and accidentally said the name…."
"Give me something to work with Granger!" Malfoy practically growled, "Something I can tell them so I don't have to do this!"
"I don't know where they are Malfoy. I'm sorry…" Hermione whispered, feeling her legs beginning to give out beneath her, and noticing vaguely the pool of blood forming at her feet from the slash marks in her calf-muscles and ankle.
"Fuck!" he said through gritted teeth, his fists clenching in frustration. She squeaked in surprise when he suddenly seized hold of the destroyed jumper and shirt Hermione was clutching to her chest desperately, jerking it out of her grip and to the floor.
"Get undressed," he told her sternly,
"You're going to….." Hermione trailed off, her eyes wide and fearful now.
"Get in the shower, Granger," he told her, cutting her off before she could say it.
When she didn't move fast enough, her limbs sluggish and her mind recoiling from the idea of stripping in front of him, he stepped in even closer, his fingers making short work of the fastenings on her jeans. She whimpered when he dragged them down her legs, her arms clutching futilely at her emaciated body, trying to hide from him. Malfoy ignored her and Hermione began to cry again when he reached around behind her, easily unhooking her bra, which he proceeded to wrestle off her. He did the same for her knickers, and Hermione's heart began to pound with fear when he stepped around behind her, his hands on her back.
She squeaked in surprise when he shoved her hard enough that she stumbled right into the waiting stream of warm water under the spray of the shower.
"Tiggy!" he commanded sharply, not even looking at her as she huddled beneath the water, trying to hide from his cold gaze.
A sharp crack announced the arrival of a scared looking house elf, his eyes huge.
"Yes Master?" the elf murmured fearfully, his eyes dancing around the room.
"Take these and get them washed. See if you can mend the damage done to them by that cretin," he commanded, nudging his toe against the pile of Hermione's clothes. The ones she'd been wearing for weeks while she, Harry and Ron had been on the run, "Then bring some food for Granger."
Hermione reeled from the shock of his words, trying to understand what he was playing at. She was still huddled under the hot water, though after spending the entire winter camping and on the run, it felt good to finally shower again. The heat soothed her aching body, and she eventually gave in to the feeling of the water, choosing for the moment to pretend Malfoy wasn't there and instead reaching for the shampoo and conditioner, figuring that she might as well make the most of it while she could.
Weakness overtook her quickly, and even as she was washing the soap off her body, Hermione leaned against the shower wall before sliding down it until she was huddled on the floor under the spray.
"Don't fall asleep there," Malfoy's voice warned, and Hermione lifted her head to peer at him dimly. She could feel her body trying to give in, trying to surrender her to the arms of sleep and so save her from the nightmare that was currently her life.
"What are you doing?" Hermione whispered to him, not even sure he could hear her as her eyes slid closed. She wondered if she imagined his irritated sigh.
Hermione's eyes flew open when she suddenly felt his hands sliding beneath her arms, disturbingly close to her bared breasts before he lifted her back to her feet with surprising ease. He was shirtless and Hermione had no choice but to eye his torso as he tugged her out of the shower, leaning her against himself when she couldn't stand on her own while he turned the taps off.
He was underweight like she was, as though he too had been doing without food and sleep and sustenance for far too long. Hermione realised idly that his situation had more to do with constant fear than with a lack of access to food. She tried to squirm away from him as he wrapped both arms around her too-thin, naked body, pressing her harder against himself and carrying her that way across the steamy room and over to the vanity table, where he lifted her until she was sitting on the cold marble bench.
Goose-pimples raced across her skin and Hermione hated herself for not knowing if it was from the chill of the stone after the hot water, or from the feel of his skin brushing against hers as he moved away again. Desperately she tried to cover herself, crossing her legs together and using her hands to hide her modest breasts, but she suspected Malfoy was doing his best to not actually see that she was naked. He moved away for a moment, before returning with a bathrobe that was much too big for her, draping the folds around her and ensconcing her in the warmth before he brought her a towel for her hair.
"What are you doing?" Hermione repeated weakly when he finished scrubbing at her hair roughly, no doubt leaving it in a complete bird's nest of tangles.
"Trying to keep you alive long enough for your idiot friends to show up here and rescue you," he replied gruffly, "Show me your leg."
"My…. What?" Hermione asked, completely bewildered now, though she already felt far better than she had, even after just a simple hot shower to soothe the deep-seated ache in her bones and muscles from the abuse of the cruciatus curse.
"Your leg, Granger, where Greyback slashed you and bit you. Won't do anyone any good if you bleed out in my bathroom," Malfoy said, his cold bony hands already taking hold of the abused limb and lifting it so that he could examine the damage.
Hermione stared at him, and at the ragged wound, blinking in confusion when he pulled out his wand and began muttering spells to stem the blood-flow and heal the wound. She knew he wouldn't be able to heal it completely, not without the aid of someone with proper medical training, but he might be able to help.
"Do you have any dittany?" Hermione asked him, surprised by the fact that he didn't seem to know what to say to her and so was pretending to be completely focused on healing her leg. He nodded mutely, reaching past her to pull open the mirror on the wall, revealing an arsenal of first aid equipment.
Hermione blinked when he handed her a Pepper-Up potion.
"I don't have the flu," Hermione said, staring at him in confusion.
"Drink it Granger. It will help with the effects of the cruciatus curse," he commanded her, not raising his voice to more than a hiss, as though very much aware that they were being eavesdropped upon.
Hermione decided not to question how he might know that, or why he was trying to help her. Instead she drank the potion while he dripped dittany on the slash marks on her leg, followed by covering the entire wound in gauze, sticky bandages and wrapping her leg from ankle to knee in a clean white cloth-bandage. When he finished, he reached for a pot of bruise-healing cream. Hermione flinched slightly at his light touch when he smeared some over her abused cheek and around her swollen eye.
"Why are you helping me?" Hermione breathed to him, holding his steely gaze as he looked directly into her face.
"They'll fail without you," he breathed back to her seriously, frowning a little.
"Not over a bruised eye, they won't," Hermione whispered, perplexed and mildly concerned by that fact that such a cruel person had the capacity to touch her wounded cheek so gently. She chose to not even think about the strange spark she felt as he brushed his thumb along her bottom lip where it had split open.
"I need you to tell me where they are Granger," Malfoy murmured to her seriously, "Otherwise…"
"I don't know where they are Malfoy," Hermione replied, "I haven't got even an inkling of where they will go…. I don't even know if they'll look for me."
"You didn't have some kind of plan on a place to meet if you got separated?" Malfoy demanded, raising his voice now so that if the werewolf was still listening outside the door, he would be able to report that Malfoy had interrogated her.
"We don't get separated," Hermione replied, "We've been on the run for months and months and we've never been separated before."
She chose not to mention the fact that Ron had a device that allowed him to find them when he'd taken off like a git. Or the fact that the most likely place they would've gone when they couldn't find her was the place she had once told Harry about. A little village by the East shore where she'd once been with her grandparents as a girl. She doubted Harry would even think of it. But if by some miracle he did, she didn't want to lead the Death Eaters right to him. Even if keeping the secret meant that she'd have to shag Malfoy.
"How can you not have agreed on some place to meet?" Malfoy demanded "You're the smartest witch in our year! How can you not have some kind of plan if things go wrong?"
She could tell from his waspish tone that he was getting cranky now, and that he believed she truly didn't know anything, that she was telling the truth. She could tell he was disgusted and appalled by the idea of having to shag her on his aunt's orders. She could see the frustration and desperation in his eyes.
"Our plan was don't get caught," Hermione replied, "And then Harry lost his temper and those bastards showed up. I have no idea where they could be. For all I know they've been captured or killed. All I know is that if they think that I'm here and even still alive, they'll try to get in to save me."
"They haven't been caught or killed," Malfoy muttered, "Trust me, we'd known if they had. They're all under orders to bring anyone they find here to be interrogated the way you have been."
"How many people has she fed to Greyback?" Hermione asked, feeling sick to her stomach and not really wanting to know the answer.
"Only one," Malfoy replied, looking away from her now, "And it was disgusting."
Hermione knew from his expression that he meant it and suspected based on the haunted look in his eyes that the werewolf had torn apart whoever that person had been and probably eaten them in front of him. There was no other explanation for his look of absolute horror. He moved to turn away from her and before he could Hermione grabbed hold of his arm.
He eyed her coldly as though he knew what was coming.
Hermione pulled him as close as she could, pressing her lips directly to his ear.
"Can you get me out of here?" she breathed to him so softly that she wasn't sure even Malfoy would know what she'd said, let alone anyone listening.
"No one can apparate through the wards except the Dark Lord," he shook his head, "And there's no way either of us are getting out of this room without doing what they want…."
Hermione deflated with defeat. If that was true, there was no way Harry and Ron would be able to get inside to save her, and even if they did, none of them would be able to get out. She wondered if Harry would remember the words she whispered to him one night about what they ought to do if either of them was captured. Harry had been concerned that they would try to follow him, and had all but ordered her to refrain should that ever happen. She wondered if he would honour her wishes and not try to find her when there was more at stake than just her life.
"There's absolutely nothing you can give me to get us out of this?" he asked her, and Hermione realised she still had her hand on the back of Malfoy's neck, pulling him close to her so she could speak directly into his ear.
"I made Harry promise to not search for me if I got caught," Hermione replied miserably.
"He's not going to leave you here. They know as well as I do that they'll fail without you," Malfoy replied.
After that, they both waited in silence and Hermione wondered why he didn't pull away from her.
"You know what this means…. Right?" he asked her softly.
"You're going to have to…" Hermione trailed off, her body beginning to tremble once more at the very idea. She gritted her teeth at her own fear, hating the idea of having someone as cruel as Malfoy touch her, but giving herself a stern talking to that it was better Malfoy than Greyback or one of the other Death Eaters. He'd even been kind to her and healed some of her hurts.
"Guess it's a good thing you already hate me," Hermione heard him mutter as he stepped back from where he'd been leaning against the bench between her spread legs and tugging her off the cabinet.
"Better you than them," Hermione muttered back.
With as much dignity as she could muster, Hermione squared her shoulders and limped out of his bathroom and into his bedroom. She trembled even more as she limped closer to the bed.
"Eat first," he told her, stopping her with a touch and nudging her towards a coffee table where the elf must have brought her some food. There was a plate of roast meat and vegetables with gravy waiting for her.
"Last meal, eh?" Hermione asked humourlessly.
"Maybe," she heard him mutter. He sounded angry again, as though he wanted to break something and Hermione wondered if his anger was aimed at her or at his Aunt for putting him in this positon, or perhaps at his father for joining the Death Eaters in the first place.
"You do realise that the longer you prolong this, the more awkward it's going to be, don't you?" Hermione asked him when she was almost finished her meal, scarfing it down in spite of the threatening nausea at the idea that any minute now she was going to have to have sex with Draco Malfoy.
He glanced at her sideways from where he was standing by the fire and she could tell he was already feeling awkward. Hermione could tell that he really didn't want to rape her and that though she wasn't going to put up a fight – knowing that their survival depended on them doing this – Hermione could tell that he didn't like the idea any more than she did. Were they under any other circumstances, where they weren't being pushed to have sex, they would never do so.
"Just eat your food, Granger," Malfoy growled at her and Hermione could hear the frustration in his tone.
"I can't eat any more," Hermione admitted, laying down her utensils.
"Then get up," he told her and Hermione felt her stomach clench with fear at the realisation that this was it. In spite of her fear, Hermione found her courage, climbing gingerly to her feet and moving away from the couch. She moved towards the middle of the room, unable to contemplate willingly going to the bed alone. She jumped when he strode across the room towards her and she squeaked in surprise when he collided with her. His hands delved into her messy hair and before she could do more than squawk in shock his lips covered hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and setting her whole body on fire.
Hermione hadn't expected that.
She hadn't expected the flush of heat that coursed through her body in response to him and she hadn't expected to find herself bringing her own hands up, curling around his bare hips. He'd yet to put a shirt back on after lifting her out of the shower and the feel of his smooth skin beneath her hands made Hermione feel funny inside. On some level Hermione felt very much like she was betraying Ron, standing there furiously snogging Draco Malfoy. She told herself that she didn't have a choice. That she would be killed if she didn't do this.
But that didn't mean she should be enjoying it. Draco Malfoy was simply something else in this wretched war to be endured. Definitely not to be enjoyed.
Not that he was going to make it easy, it seemed. Hermione heard the pathetic whimper that escaped her when he pulled away from her lips to trail a line of burning kisses, licks and nips down her throat, his hands leaving her hair to tug at the tie holding the bathrobe she wore closed, prying it open angrily. Hermione could tell from the rough actions that he was positively furious and she dug her nails into his hips when he brutally nipped her collarbone, his hands trailing over her body to cup her breasts.
She gritted her teeth, trying to bite back a moan of pleasure when he began rolling her nipples between his fingers, pinching just enough to smart but not enough to truly hurt her. She hated herself when the moan escaped anyway, and when she found her hands making short work of the fastenings on his trousers. She told herself to think of Ron. To imagine that it was his mouth and his hands tormenting her flesh.
She tried desperately to think of anyone other than Draco Malfoy and anything other than the fiery passion he'd stirred within her.