Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Hermione started her morning off the same, repetitive way as she had for the past two weeks. She shook out her blanket and folded it before setting it against the wall to craft a semi-comfortable seat. She used the bucket in the opposite corner that served as a toilet and covered it again with a small board. On Sunday's and Thursday's, a clean bucket of water was placed in her cell, along with the food that came daily, every night while she slept. Hermione stripped off the thin robe she wore, wiped down her body and dipped her hair in the bucket, and then ate the small breakfast that was given to her.
And every day she examined her wound.
On the night Hogwarts was attacked, when all the Death Eaters infiltrated those walls, Hermione had been bitten. She knew it was Fenrir the moment she saw him in the empty passageway. He was in his human form and still as terrifying. He only grinned wordlessly and hunted her down like prey, finally trapping her in a dead end nearly thirty minutes from where they first saw each other. She had fought hard and he probably had wounds of his own to prove it. In the end, he snapped her wand.
The strength with which Fenrir trapped her against the wall was surprisingly gentle, but his bared, bloodied teeth promised more. Hermione remembered her fist clipping his nose and it cracked. If she did break his nose, it didn't faze him. He tore the robes away from her shoulder and sunk his human teeth into the skin there. She could still feel the strangled whimper that erupted from her throat and the way it burned. She may have thrown up.
She sagged, her arms falling limp over his shoulders as he gathered the blood from her skin. Her veins were cold and thick with venom, making Hermione dizzy. He stopped abruptly, pulling his teeth away and pressing her robes to the wound as if to stop the bleeding. Her forehead fell hard onto his collarbone and he had scooped her up almost caringly.
The cell welcomed her when she awoke. She had seen no one for two weeks. House elves, she supposed, came while she slept. The wound seemed to be healing slowly over time, but it still looked rather nasty. She thought it was probably infected.
Hermione pulled her robe back on and ran her fingers through her hair, thinking that she had only cried once since she arrived. She was quite surprised at herself; she was handling the situation very nicely. Although, as she watched last night's moon sink away through the small, barred window, Hermione got nervous. It was nearly full, and she had no idea what being bitten by a wolf in human form would do to her.
So she waited the day out. Although she was never one for athleticism, she had been busying herself with push-ups everyday. Today she reached thirty in one go. Then she washed her face in the wash bucket and was finishing the braid in her hair when the cell door creaked open for the first time.
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise, but while Lucius Malfoy wrinkled his nose at her living conditions, she reached over to the pile of stones she had collected when she arrived. When his eyes finally fell on her, she was standing quite solidly with her arm cocked back to deliver a heavy blow.
"No need for throwing stones, Miss Granger," he said simply, although his wand twirled in his fingers.
"No, you see, I've been saving them for men like you," she replied, smoothly enough to impress even Snape. Her voice lied though; she wondered if Lucius could see her heart pounding.
"What sort of man would that be, hm?" He smiled at her in a sort of mock pity. "No man wants to come near you Mudblood. In other circumstances, they'd all have a taste, but now they're afraid of getting bitten."
That's why they've avoided her. They don't know what she'd become either. And if that kept her safe, she thought it better to play along.
"I've wanted a taste, too." Hermione smiled wide enough to show teeth.
Lucius stared at her for a second, seeming unbalanced but quickly recovered.
"You might have it," he said quietly. "Put down your stones and fists; it's time for you to go."
"Go where?" she snapped. "I'm not following you anywhere."
"You can't save yourself from anything that happens tonight," Lucius smirked. "If the bite didn't infect you, you will be used and murdered. If you are infected, you have no choice but to join us, however much you may fight it. Now, come."
"No," she challenged. Lucius sighed and raised his wand, thinking the girl to be harmless without hers. Hermione let her fist fly, firing a large stone at Lucius' head with all of her strength. Apparently the push-ups had more effect that even she knew because the stone cracked against the wizard's skull and he dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.
"Wow…" she breathed, staring wide-eyed at her damage. There was a bloody bruise forming on his right temple. He still seemed to be breathing though so Hermione leaped forward. First she dressed herself in his robes and then she snatched up his wand. Pulling the large hood over her head, Hermione closed the cell door behind her and locked Lucius in.
With his wand clutched in her fist, she tried to walk confidently. She met others once, but their hoods were just as black as hers and they passed without conflict. Voices echoed in the hall suddenly and she stopped short, nearly tripping over her feet. One voice was sniveling and the other… hissing and cold.
Hermione's gut wrenched and twisted. She was facing three different hallways and she couldn't figure out where the voices were coming from. Deciding that she'd have to chance it, she stepped toward the hallway to her right.
A hand clapped over her mouth and another arm wrapped around her shoulders from behind, pulling her back against a firm chest.
"That way," the man whispered behind her. Hermione craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her Professor Snape's grim face before he pushed her toward the hallway straight across from them. When she turned again, he was gone and she could hear his deep voice joining with Voldemort's.
Shaking herself off, Hermione ran down the hallway until she came to a low window. With Lucius' wand between her teeth, she pulled herself out of the window and fell into the bushes on the other side.
"Oof!" After sucking the breath back into her lungs, she untangled herself and darted for the nearby forest.
The sun was nearly down and the full moon would emerge soon.
Hermione ducked her head and ran harder than she ever had in her life, feeling the rush of new, hot blood in her veins and then knowing she was wolf in human form.
Encaged, again, and treated more like an animal than before. Then again, Hermione liked to terrify the onlookers now and then, grinning at them hungrily with sharpened canines when she actually wanted nothing more than a bag of potato chips.
After she escaped from the Malfoy Manor two months ago, she traveled toward Eastern Europe. She heard there were many more like her there because the werewolves in that area found blood best when they bit in their human form. She did find many, too. There was an entire underground army of wolves like herself. They were all bitter and still very much humane. They were all hunted. The underground army of human wolves had been discovered soon after she joined them and nearly all of them were caught.
Werewolves like to keep control of their packs, including the human wolves. Leaders also wanted human wolves for their strength, quickness, and intelligence; they made good soldiers. Voldemort, who had won the battle the night Hermione was bitten, craved these sorts of soldiers. This gave Hermione hope; it meant the good side was still fighting him and some of her friends might still be alive.
Hermione sat in the middle of her cage. It had a metal floor that wasn't more than five strides across. The metal floor was a kind of punishment. She was in bare feet so that if she misbehaved, an electrifying pulse would come up through the floor and send her body into pained shock.
The human wolf sellers made her wear very little to show off her muscle. She had on a tan shirt that covered little more than a sports bra and tan spandex shorts.
And yet, despite all of this, Hermione sat on her knees with her hands in her lap, looking very dignified in the middle of her barred cage.
The sellers had outdone themselves that day. The auction was being held outside in a large sort of coliseum. Fifty-some cages dotted the grassy floor, all of the human wolves dressed like Hermione. The potential buyers were allowed to wander among the cages before the auction began, noting down which human wolf they would bid on. Hermione went by the number twenty three.
Lord Voldemort was coming that day, which also explained the bright decorations and the stiff suits on the sellers.
Hermione was preparing herself, wondering if he would notice her or not. She realized this day could mean the end of her life. If she could avoid him, then she was sure she could escape at nighttime. Human wolves were very apt at escaping due to their skills.
"This one's beautiful, too," said a boy around fifteen years old. He had the balls to look at Hermione with a boyish lust, which almost made her snarl at him. His father appeared beside him.
"Yes, she is. I like her," he said with a thick Spanish accent. Hermione blinked at him in surprise, finding him a good leap more than handsome. Occasional, abrupt lust was something that came in the package of wolfish characteristics.
He was probably in his thirties, with dark skin and black, wavy hair. His eyes were calm, but evil lay underneath. He was experienced, too, and Hermione could tell he was thinking several dark things about her at the moment.
"Stand up," he ordered quietly. Hermione did so, a new plan creeping into her mind. If someone else wanted her, then Voldemort may never get his hands on her at all.
The raised platform of her cage placed her at the Spaniard's height.
"What can you do?" he asked.
"I can do perform those acts in your thoughts," she replied quietly, studying him. He cleared his throat, scribbled her number down, and led his son away, who looked back at her. She flashed her sharp teeth at him and he jumped.
Chuckling quietly, Hermione looked down the line of cages. People had grown quiet and cleared the way. She could see a handful of black robes in the array of colors, slowly making their way down the row.
Voldemort was the leader of the four. Severus Snape strode on his left and Lucius Malfoy to his right. Peter Pettigrew scrambled in the back, holding auction papers and scribbling down numbers.
She tried to slow her breathing and resumed her sitting position, desperately holding on to calm. Human wolves tended to panic and go into a rage when they became overwhelmed or threatened. Hermione was using all of her power to fight back the instinct.
A human wolf down the row lost it and Hermione heard him scream, throwing himself at the bars and trying to bite Voldemort. He screamed harder when the electric shock when up through the floor.
"Perhaps Pettigrew would appreciate that man," Snape said as they approached Hermione's cage.
"No, no!" Pettigrew stammered, looking back at the crazed human wolf fearfully.
"He'd eat you and do us all a favor," Lucius agreed, smirking lightheartedly. Hermione scowled. It seemed to be a day out on the town for these fellows.
Voldemort nearly kept walking, paying Hermione no attention when he saw how apathetic she appeared. Lucius stopped, though, abruptly. Hermione grimaced, trying to keep her head down.
"God…" she heard Snape breathe.
"What is it?" Voldemort asked, turning around to stare also.
Hermione was found out. She lifted her head slightly, peering through her curls at Snape, who looked horrified at his own confirmation.
"Miss Granger," Lucius hissed. Voldemort made a noise of pleasure and leaned forward. Hermione had no intention of remaining on her knees now. She stood up and walked close to the bars where they stood, her chin lifted. "How convenient that I found you," Lucius continued maliciously. "We have a score to settle."
"Are you talking about the time I left you nearly naked, bruised, and wandless in the dungeon?" Hermione said sweetly. He looked furious and Hermione grinned at him, flashing her canines. "I broke your wand, Lucius. It snapped as easily as you do."
Hermione certainly did snap his wand. She did it right before she was captured by the sellers, knowing she'd never get it back.
Lucius fumed at her, and Voldemort looked between the two of them like he wanted to grin but couldn't make his cold, thin lips do it.
"Buy her, Lucius," Pettigrew smiled and stepped close. "We'll share the bitch hound."
Lucius whirled on him, angry at Pettigrew for speaking for him, but Hermione's hand shot past her bars. She grabbed the back of Pettigrew's neck before he could dodge and pulled toward herself, cracking his forehead on the steel bars.
He wailed as the skin on his forehead split open. Hermione remained stone-faced until the floor surged and she screamed, wrapping her arms around the bars to hold herself up. When it ended, she opened her eyes and panted for breath. She saw Snape glaring at Pettigrew, who was simpering around Voldemort now. Lucius leaned close, where her face rested against a bar tiredly.
His grey eyes were storms of cruelty under his blonde hair. She could feel his breath brush against her lips.
"I'll make you mine and I'll make you sorry," he growled.
He strode away after Voldemort, who had left to view the rest of the human wolves. Hermione exchanged grim looks with Snape before he walked away, glancing over his shoulder at her.
I'm doing some editing on this story and trying to finish it. It just needs to be done! :)
And I'm going to forewarn you: there will be smut (much, much later) and there will be bloody, squeamish scenes. She's half werewolf - it happens. Also, the relationship is between Hermione and Lucius (my first with him, actually).
Yeah, I know nothing happened to Bill when he was bitten in the 6th book, but I couldn't settle with that. Let's just pretend it went differently... for kicks and giggles.
Let me know what you think of the idea! Thanks!