Disclaimer:I still do not own anything Harry Potter related.
A/N:Here's yet another fan fiction from me. This is a weird one that just got stuck in my head and wouldn't go away. Feel free to flame me coz I've seen it happen to others but I won't be responding to them if they're not intelligent flames. Thanks to my brand spanking new beta for wanting to take on this task. Enjoy everyone. BTW, italics are flash back scene thingys.
Hermione rolled over on the cold hard floor. She instantly regretted it. The pain that shot through her body was horrendous. She lay flat on her back with her eyes tight shut while she waited for the pain to subside a little.
Hermione's jagged breath was slowly starting to even out. The pain eventually became a dull throb. She slowly opened her eyes to see where she was. She was in an extremely large living room that was decorated in greens, blacks and silvers. She was lying between an oversized fireplace, which was roaring with fire, and two high back chairs that had a small round table between them.
What Hermione could see around her, without moving, was the wall opposite the fireplace that disappeared into the shadows. There was a large chandelier with black candles on the ceiling behind the chairs. She looked at the wall straight ahead and found it had a window that was as tall as the wall. It was sunny outside but the rays didn't reach Hermione, or the room for that matter.
There was a sound of a door opening and closing from somewhere in the room. She could hear footsteps walking towards her.
"Sit up." A cold male voice demanded. Hermione tried to sit up but the minute she did, her body screamed in excruciating pain. She lay back down, feeling very ill with tears from the pain stinging her eyes. "Sit up, mudblood." He demanded again with more venom. She wanted to obey him, she really did but her body wouldn't allow her to.
"I can't." Hermione cried. She feared what would happen to her for disobeying him. She heard the person move closer to her. She wanted to see who it was but her tears blurred her vision. He grabbed the scruff of her shirt and picked her up effortlessly. He threw her into one of the chairs. She was screaming at the agony of it all, her body felt like it was on fire. What had they done to her?
Hermione's head was yanked back and her mouth forced open. The tears were streaming freely down her face. She felt a hot liquid being poured into her mouth and trickle down her throat. She felt the liquid start to spread its heat through her body from the pit of her stomach. When the heat disappeared, so did the pain that had been crippling her. She wiped the tears away and sat up.
Hermione looked up to find Lucius Malfoy staring down at her with a cold smile. He sat down in the other chair.
"How do you feel now?" He asked, looking her straight in the eye.
"Better, no thanks to you." Hermione told him defiantly while keeping eye contact with him. She remembered everything now.
She had been in Hogsmeade to buy a book that would help her get extra credit on her Ancient Runes essay. She had gone alone because Harry and Ron were busy with Quidditch practice. She had not reached the town. Someone had grabbed her from behind and dragged her towards the Forbidden Forest. If she remembered correctly, they had pulled her under an invisibility cloak so that no one would see them. She had kicked and screamed but she was soon shut up with a sharp blow to the head. She passed out a few moments after the blow. What they had done to her afterwards, she didn't know. The pain she had experienced wasn't from that knock to the head.
"The Dark Lord has plans for you." He told her slyly.
"Like I didn't know that," She spat at him, "Why else would you have kidnapped me from under Dumbledore's nose?" He laughed cruelly at her.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe for some fun. You know, torture can be a great source of entertainment, as proved before. You are quite adorable when you scream." Hermione finally broke the eye contact with him to look in the fireplace. She felt ill at the thought of what they had done to her while she had been knocked out. Or had she been knocked out? Was what they did to her so bad that her mind had automatically blocked it out? Lucius stood up and in one stride he was at Hermione's chair. He placed one hand on each arm of her chair and moved his face dangerously close to hers. "Hope you like your new accommodation. This is where you will be staying for a while." He suddenly stood up straight. "Would you like to see your new room?"
"Do I have much choice?" She asked spitefully, still looking into the fire. Hermione's question was soon answered when Lucius sharply grabbed her wrist and dragged her off the chair. She quickly managed to get to her feet as he pulled her towards the door by the fireplace. The door led out to a long dark hallway that was lined with large oak doors, paintings of dark and sinister wizards, all leering at her, and a few candles floating here and there.
After a few minutes of walking down, what seemed to be, the never ending corridor, they came to an abrupt halt in front of one of the many doors. Lucius pulled out his wand and tapped the door three times with it. The door swung open to reveal a large, extravagant bedroom. Hermione gasped at the sight; she had been expecting to see dungeons. Lucius pulled her into the room and flung her forward. She tripped from the force and felt a dull crack in her arm as she landed. Hermione whimpered as her left arm erupted in pain. She sat up and clutched her arm.
"This room is bound by my magic and only my magic will let you out. Feel free to make all the attempts to escape that you want, but you won't get anywhere." Lucius chuckled a little, ignoring the fact that she had broken her arm.
"What do you want with me?" Hermione asked, looking up at him with teary eyes. For a tiny moment, she thought she saw guilt flicker across his face, but it was gone as quick as it came.
"That is for the Dark Lord to say." He told her coolly. He knelt down in front of her so quickly, that Hermione flinched in fear. "Come now, Miss Granger. Surely you would like that arm fixed?" Hermione's eyes widened. Had she heard correctly? He moved forward to take her arm but she clutched harder on to it. "Would you like to stay in pain?" He was losing his patience now. She reluctantly placed her arm in his hand. She was amazed at how gentle his touch was. With a point of his wand, it was healed. He gently moved her arm around to check his handiwork. Smiling, he let go of her arm and stood up. "There's a bathroom through there," He pointed to a door in the corner opposite them, by the queen-sized four poster bed, "and clothes in there." He said as he pointed to a large, mahogany wardrobe with a couple of drawers at the bottom of it, which was sitting by the door they came through. On that last note, he spun round with his long, black cape whirling round after him. The door swung shut after him, leaving Hermione alone.
Hermione stood up and looked around, taking in her new surroundings. The bed had a canopy with velvety green drapes hanging off it. The bed itself was covered with black silk blankets with trimmings of silver.
"Like black, green and silver, don't they?" Hermione muttered to herself. The wall opposite the door she had come through had two tall, slim windows with green curtains hanging on either side. Hermione went to shut the curtains. She wasn't in the mood to see the nice weather. The second she closed them a couple of dozen lit black candles popped into the room and hovered by the ceiling. Against the wall opposite the bed was an enormous mahogany desk. It had a wide variety of quills and parchment on it. It was an extravagant room and Hermione couldn't understand why she was in it. Shouldn't she be in the dungeons, being tortured until Voldemort arrived?
Hermione climbed on to the bed and kicked off her shoes. She may as well make herself at home because she wasn't going anywhere.
Meanwhile, Lucius was in his study, sitting at his desk. Why had he shown compassion to a filthy mudblood? Usually he would have left her to suffer with her broken arm for a day or two, maybe even a week. He couldn't bear to do it this time. Something in her eyes jolted him and for the first time in years, he felt his heart flutter. Narcissa had never been able to do that to him. He didn't even miss her. Draco has missed her terribly when she had been killed last year but it had made the boy tough, which pleased his master.
Lucius spun his chair around so that he was facing the painting of himself behind the desk.
"Go to her. Tell me everything that she does and says. Come back when she is asleep." Lucius the painting nodded and left his frame. He wanted to know what made the mudblood tick.