A/N: Second part of " A Delicate Diversion". Reading in sequence is recommended.

WARNING: This piece contains non sexual ( parental type) nonconsensual, graphic CP.

If that is not your cup of tea, please don't drink it. You were warned.

Hermione plucked at the neck of the ivory lace nightgown she'd been lent. Bellatrix had made her change when she brought her up, removing the borrowed robes she's worn at dinner. She'd taken her shoes as well. In return, she'd left her husband.

The presence of a strange man made Hermione's skin crawl. The fact he was totally disinterested somehow made it worse. He sat in a corner in a plump armchair, engrossed in the Daily Prophet. He seemed intent on ignoring Hermione and she did her best to return the favor, though she sometimes got the uncomfortable sensation he was looking at her when her back was turned.

The door flew open with a sound like a gunshot. Bellatrix stood their, wild hair standing out at all angles, and a mad smile dancing on her patrician mouth. Though gaunt and haggard, Hermione could see that Bellatrix had been, as her Dad would say " a real looker" before her stint in Azkaban.

Rudolphus looked up. "Bellatrix, how delightful it is that you finally chose to join us." She ignored her husband's jab and came closer to Hermione. Through the open door, Hermione heard sounds; someone crying, voices distant and muffled below.

She tried to get closer and was stopped by a hand on her arm. Bellatrix.

"No you don't, dirty little mud blood princess. You're staying here with us." Bella spoke in her habitual sing song baby voice, that frozen smile still lingering, though her eyes were hard as knifes, and in them Hermione saw something worse than murder. Bella would as gladly kill her as speak to her. And love it.

Hermione turned to Rudolphus and begged him. "Please, sir, what are they doing to him?"

" I wouldn't know. Ask madame Lestrange instead."

Bella's smile widened into a grin that might have been a rictus of agony.

"Ooo, she wants to know what's happend to her little friend, does she? Do you, little mud blood?"

"Please, is he--dead?"

Bella laughed. "Silly mud blood, why would the Dark Lord kill little half blood Potter? Wouldn't keeping him alive be so much more fun?"

Hermione's blood froze. Bella slammed the door as hard as she could. A moment later she heard footsteps, sniffling and a softer, colder voice. She shivered.

Bella pulled something from the pocket of her robe. She grabbed Hermione's arm and drug her to the vanity and pushed her into the stool. Tilting Hermione's head at an angle, she brought the thing in her hand up and drug it carefully down the length of her bushy, unkempt hair.

A hairbrush. Hermione tried to twist around and felt Bellatrix's fingers, hard as wires, dig into the nape of her neck. She moved to her original position and watched in the mirror as Bellatrix separated her hair into sections and began to methodically brush.

Hermione reminded herself that the woman behind her was a murderer, that she tortured poor Neville's parents into insanity, that she would think less of slaughtering a thousand muggles than she did of a poorly ironed dress robe or a drafty room.

Then why was she relaxing, just a little, under Bella's fingers? Why couldn't she keep her eyes from welling as she thought of her Mum, who brushed her hair every night when she was small, just as Bellatrix was doing now.

Mum, who didn't know she existed anymore. She always smelled like roses, did her Mum.

It was too much. A tear slid slowly down her cheek and hit the top of the mahogany vanity with a muted 'thunk'.

Bella stopped. "Did I make the little mud blood cry? How very very sad she is." Rudolphus looked up his Quidditch stats and fixed his wife with a cool glare.

" We aren't to hurt her, Bellatrix. He said so himself."

Bella cooed at the mention of her lord. "Of course he did, darling." She commenced to brush again, very gently. She was humming something to herself, something that sounded like a children's song.

About nine o'clock they left for a short while, carefully making an age line that kept her confined to bed, unable to do much except cuddle under the giant eiderdown and try futilely to plot an escape for Harry and herself. She must have dozed off.

When she woke there was a candle in her face. No, not a candle, a wand in mid Lumos. Hermione sat up, blinking, and noticed that Rudolphus' Daily Prophet was vacant. Only Bellatrix was there, watching her like a cat watches a mouse. Hermione stretched and tried to affect a casual mien. "Did I sleep long?"

Bella cocked her head and laughed that empty, chilling laugh. "Maybe too long, little mud blood. Maybe not long enough."

"What do you mean? It can't be both?"

"You're still here, so you didn't sleep long enough to wake from your nightmare. Or else you woke and discovered the nightmare had just begun."

Hermione felt ill. This was no bluff; her bones held a terrible warning, a premonition of doom. Her head was spinning and she lay down again. Belle capered about the room, waving her arms, the conductor of a symphony that played only in her head.

The next time she felt alert Rudolphus was back. Her looked tired, eyes encircled in black, body telling of weariness in every line. But he was smiling. He had a friendly smile, a handsome, sunny, fair weather smile. Hermione hated it.

"How was it, then?"

"It was…glorious. Would you could have been there, my pet."

Bellatrix allowed her husband to wrap an arm around her waist for a minute before she roughly shoved him off. He smelled of blood, death, salt air, the acrid smell the Dark Mark left on it's castor. Normally a good smell, a smell redolent of promise. Tonight she wanted none of it. She was busy glorying in the deeds they had done that night, deeds that would make them famous and beloved and, most importantly, favored by the Dark Lord.

Hermione watched them with mounting horror. Something dreadful, her mind murmured. Something foul. She lay down again and feigned sleep, though she doubted she would ever really sleep peacefully again.

The house was dark, immersed in pre dawn stillness. A wing away, Harry slept uneasily. In his sleep he rolled onto his back and immediately rolled onto his stomach again, giving vent to a low hiss of pain.

The Lestranges had retired to their bedroom, which adjoined Hermione's. Bella had left the door open but undid the age line so as to allow Hermione to use the small ensuite WC if she needed. What she had forgotten, in her glee, was to ward the door to the hallway, thinking it too well guarded.

Hermione was awake. When she heard nothing, she rose silently and crept into the WC. She felt her heart hammering like a scared mouse trapped in a paper bag. She ignored it and carefully crept to the door. The Death Eater that was guarding it was dozing upright on the chair he was sitting in. She moved past him as slowly and gently as a shadow.

She had to find Harry and they had to escape. She had heard Harry being led past her door. She turned left and walked, freezing at every noise. As she entered the bowls of the house she pushed the real reason she wanted to get away with such urgency from her mind.

She couldn't find Harry's room. She decided to creep downstairs and try to find a way out of the manor. Then she would find him and then would--

"Well well, what have we hear? A little rabbit, hopped it's burrow, looks like." She recognized the coarse, powerful voice at once. Fenrir Greyback stepped from the pool of darkness beside the great clock and gave her a singularly unpleasant grin. His teeth were broken, yellowed and stained with something she didn't wish to discover the identity of. She took an involuntary step backward, then another.

Greyback leered. "What is it, little rabbit? Are you scared of the big…bad…wolf?" He lunged and caught her gracefully in his huge arms. " I shall enjoy breaking you. I'll let all of them have you first, and then have you myself as you turn that first time. Imagine traveling the forests as my queen. What fun we'll have, you and I."

He gave her a wolfish grimace, and she realized with faint horror his teeth were growing. Up close her smelled even more putrid. His hand locked on her arm and he jerked it away from her body. "Just a little one, then. Give you the slow burn so you can savor it."

His head snapped down and she experienced a moment of perfect clarity. If she didn't get away now, this thing was her fate. Her foot snapped out and flew up. Greyback grunted and staggered, clutching the wounded part of himself and cursing her vilely. Oh how she'd pay for that!

She turned to run and slammed face first into what seemed to be a wall. On closer inspection, it was not. It was Lucius Malfoy. Hermione sagged with relief, at least for a second. She could never had pictured a day when the Dark Lord's cat's paw was the lesser of two threats.

Behind him was a small contingent of Death Eaters. They were dressed, absurdly, in all manner of semi dress, as though roused from bed. Behind them all was Voldemort himself, looking as displeased as a person can when they have no face to speak of.

"Here she is, my lord. We arrived just in time."

"I see that. Lucius. Fenrir, what were you doing with the girl?"

The werewolf, cheated of his prize and bitterly resentful the others had seen a female, a human female, best him, glared sullenly at those around him. "You said I could have her."

" I said perhaps. I certainly did not give you permission to simply take her yourself, no matter how opportunely she appeared where you were skulking. Further, you have attacked a guest of not only myself but Lucius', an unforgivable breach of protocol."

He turned to Malfoy. "Lucius, I feel as though you ought to be the punish this creature for his insult. Outside, if you would." Lucius nodded humbly and immediately immobilized the werewolf, who was apt to flee if he got a chance. Levitating him outside at once, Lucius smiled to himself in anticipation.

Hermione wondered if she had been forgotten. No such luck. Bellatrix, attired in a pale blue sleep robe, shoved through the other Death Eaters and got a death grip on her arm, nails digging into her flesh.

Rudolphus, clad in an open day robe over a white night shirt, stood by and watched as his wife crushed the Granger's arm. He shook his head dolefully at Hermione, eyes counterfeiting grief. Bellatrix finally let go and stood beside Hermione possessively, too close for comfort.

Voldemort gave a sigh Harry would have recognized as trouble. " Miss Granger, I am disappointed in you. Not only do you abuse the hospitality the Lestranges have shown you, you wander the halls alone, and undertake to meet a strange man without proper chaperonage. Surely you understand how dangerous this is?"

Hermione stared at him in shock, and then felt Bellatrix's sharp fingernail in her side. "Answer the Dark Lord, girl."

"I, well, yes. I did realize that--"

Voldemort pounced. " Then you were sneaking out to meet Greyback? His proposal was agreeable to you?"

She shuddered violently at the thought of what had almost been done to her. Her knees weakened for a fraction of a second, she thought she might fall.

"I take that as a 'no'. Then what were you doing?"

She felt as though she had nothing to lose and so told the truth. " I was trying to find Harry. I needed to see if he was all right."

Voldemort gave her an unreadable look. " Why would he not be, Miss Granger?"

"I heard him crying earlier."

He nodded solicitously. " I understand. An admirable goal, but gone about the wrong way. Harry is just fine. He merely wept because his pattern of poor behavior, once pointed out to him, caused him great regret.'

' As for yourself, admitting you sought out a man alone in his chambers, without proper governance from Bella or Narcissa is indicative of a greater problem. Perhaps muggles have ceased to raise their daughters with any regard for their reputations, but while you are a guest here I will see that your reputation is kept with utmost caution."

Voldemort smiled at her. She stiffened her spine and looked right back him, telling herself she was not afraid.

"Ordinarily in these situations, the girl's parents correct the problem en famille. Unfortunately, yours are either unable or unwilling to do so. I suggest we find a substitute who would be willing to address the issue with you in greater depth."

Hermione felt a deep well of unease. She tried to keep the tremor from her voice as she demurred. "I wouldn't want to be a bother to anyone. It won't happen again."

Voldemort pretended to consider. "Ahh, but Hermione-- may I take the liberty?-- this is too important to be left unresolved. After all, your attempt to make their home into a trysting place has gravely insulted Narcissa and Lucius as well. It is imperative that they see you have been made to understand the error of your ways." He turned to the couple beside Hermione.

"Bellatrix, Rudolphus, may I ask you to see to this? I know what store you set on etiquette and proper protocol." They bowed as one and turned to go back upstairs.

"Oh, and Hermione?' They all three turned back around. ' I expect you to apologize to Lucius and Narcissa for your shameless behavior as soon as the Lestranges are done discussing your behavior with you."

"Yes. I-I will."

The Lestranges led Hermione up the stairs and back into the bedroom. Bellatrix pulled the vanity stool out and took a seat at it. Rudolphus stood in front of the girl and suddenly took her chin in his hand, forcing her eyes up to meet his.

" I don't blame you for being ashamed, you know. Any decently brought up girl would be, in this circumstance. How could you do it, Hermione? How could you betray the trust we put in you so casually?"

Hermione was surprised to feel guilt twist her stomach. His gaze was calm and even sympathetic. Her father, had this happened at home, might have said and done the same things. She shoved down the feeling and said nothing. He sighed and shook his head again.

" Didn't you feel as though you could trust us to help you socialize, Hermione? I understand at your age, it might seem as though Bellatrix and I were never young, but we too had our sweethearts. But when the time came, we trusted in our elders to help us make a wise choice. The right people at the right time, and your elders are the ones who establish that for you. And never, never once, did we transgress the boundaries of sexual morality. Any boy who would ask you to is beneath you."

Hermione had to defend what she saw as a smear on Harry's good name. "Harry never--"

Bellatrix gasped and Rudolphus gave a quiet moan of disappointment. The Dark Lord had expected something like this to happen and had briefed them well; that aside, Hermione had broken three taboos that Purebloods held sacred; that a female was never alone with an unrelated male until after she was married, she never made the first move, and she never went alone at night without a proper chaperone.

They might have expected this sort of loose behavior from a filthy mud blood, but they had agreed during the meeting that she seemed less….mud blooded than most. Her manners were almost decent, and though she moved with an appalling lack of poise, she held herself well.

" Oh Hermione. How close you came to ruining yourself tonight! Not to mention the shame your conduct has caused us as your…protectors here."

"But I never--"

Rudolphus held up a hand. "I think we've heard quite enough, haven't we, dearest?" Bellatrix nodded.

"Then I think it can be agreed that this problem can be partly remedied by application of physical correction to the appropriate portion of the body, wouldn't you say, Bellatrix?"

Hermione laughed in shock, aided by the excess of emotions she had experienced in the wake of Greyback's attack. "You want to smack me? I'm not eight years old!"

Bellatrix's face twisted furiously. " You dare laugh, you filthy, vile, low little harlot ? I ought to cruciate you until you--" Rudolphus could sense his wife's ire growing more as she spoke. He had to intervene before she killed the girl in a fit of pique.

"Hermione! For shame. We most certainly can discipline you any way we see fit. You are our charge, and as such we act in loco parentis."

"I'm an adult, you can't possibly--"

" We can and shall. Now go to madame Lestrange and submit at once, or I shall be forced to make you comply." He hefted his wand, giving little doubt that he would cast Imperius on her if she failed to obey.

She walked to Bellatrix, unsure of what to expect. Bella gestured her to stand at her left side. Bella reached behind herself and took hold of the hairbrush she had been using earlier. She set it beside her on the bench and motioned for Hermione to come over her knee.

At the sight of that brush, Hermione's stomach sank to her feet. It was huge, fully three centimeters thick, carved of some pitch black wood. Bella picked it up in her hands and began slapping it in her other palm. She wore an expression of demented joy, glad to be able to serve the Dark Lord so personally.

Hearing Rudolphus clear his throat meaningfully, Hermione bent over Bellatrix's lap. Her head hung nearly level with her head, which made her dizzy. Bellatrix set down the brush and ordered "Arms" and Hermione raised them. The older witch caught them in a trice, stuck them to the small of Hermione's back and Hermione's torso to her own legs. Then she seized hold of the hem of the sleeping robe and tossed it over Hermione's back, baring her utterly.

She gave a squeal and tried to cover herself with her hands. Hermione had never been spanked, not ever, not even once. Now she was half naked in front of a strange man, about to get smacked for the first time ever, and by Bellatrix Lestrange, of all people.

" Save your fussing., You'll need it for later, mud blood."

Rudolphus cleared his throat. " The Dark Lord said we--"

"I know what he said, Rudolphus." She took up the brush and aimed carefully. " I'm not to call her mud blood any more, at least for right now."

Hermione tensed. She expected the first blow to hurt. She was not disappointed; in fact, the experience helped her redefine her expectations entirely.

CRACK! CRACK! The hairbrush made sound like a shot in the quiet room. Hermione cried out. The pain was scorching, unbelievable. It felt as though she were being flayed rather than smacked with a wooden hair brush. She knew how stupid she must look ( and sound) but found she could not help it.

CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK

Hermione jerked with each smack, barely restraining herself from giving full vent to her misery. To her amazement, Bella paused a moment as Rudolphus spoke.

"Now Hermione, you knew you should not have been outside the room without being escorted, did you not?

CRACK CRACK CRACK "Y-yes! I did, I did knoOWW!"

"Yet you chose to sneak out instead of waiting ?"

"Yes!" She kicked as hard as she could, but the sticking charm held her fast to Bellatrix's bony lap.

Rudolphus opened his mouth to speak again and Bella's voice cracked like a whip over Hermione's sobs. "I want to do it, Rudolphus. You did it before."

Rudolphus, used to his wife's mood swings, nodded his assent. Bellatrix thought about silencing the writhing, immobilized teen but decided this way was much more fun. She painted random patches of hot pink on the pale bottom before her for an agonizing minute before she started to lecture.

"There, you foolish mu- girl! Did you think you'd get away with it? Well, did you?" Bella began to paddle her sit spots, making sure to give it enough time to sink in and really start to burn. Hermione wailed and tried frantically to wiggle out of the way but she couldn't. All she could do was lie there bawling while Bellatrix tenderized her bottom with that hellish brush. The room had sounded roughly like this at the beginning of the punishment:

CRACK crack crack CRACK CRACK crack crack

Now it sounded more like:

CRACK… CRACK …CRACK

CRACK … CRACK….CRACK

"Yes yes sorry sorry won't happen again OOOWWWWWWW!"

"Teach you to behave like a Knockturn Alley slut, won't it?' Bella finished with another burst to the backs of the girl's thighs. Then she threw down the brush and unstuck the sobbing girl, pushing her to her feet.

Rudolphus had to catch her to keep Hermione from falling. The searing agony of her backside consumed nearly all thought. She had never felt more embarrassed, more ashamed of herself, more in need of courage and compassion. When Rudolphus' arms went around her, she pressed her face into his shirt and cried, desperate for comfort and not caring who it came from.

"Ssh, shh, pet, It's over now. Shh, shh. All forgiven, Hermione. Sshh, no more crying, darling. Sshhh, no more now." He patted her back and made comforting noises.

Bellatrix put the brush away. Her mind was spinning in a million different directions at once, as they had ever since Azkaban. The mud blood was there, and she was crying; she was supposed to be kind to the mud blood, the Dark Lord told her so himself. Part of her wanted to pet the girl's soft, curly hair and make nice sounds to calm her. The other wanted to rip out her heart, still beating, and draw in the blood that flowed forth.

Hermione pushed away from Rudolphus and tried to gather the strands of her dignity together. She dried her last tears on the sleeve of the night robe and stood straighter, patting her hair into place.

Bellatrix felt a wave of night black fury. How dare the filthy creature take away her chance to be a comfort and please her Lord? Had she learned nothing about taking matters into her own hands?

Dancing behind her, Bella gave her a sharp smack where she had hit hardest with the brush. Hermione gasped, danced a little, felt a few tears trickle down her face.

Bellatrix felt Rudolphus poke her sharply. "Bellatrix, the Dark Lord said--"

Bella ignored him.

"Ooo, poor Hermione. Poor, poor little princess. Does her botty hurt her? Don't worry, I'll make it feel all better."

With that, she attached herself to Hermione like a leech. Hermione stood still, shocked and disgusted by Bellatrix's behavior. Bellatrix got a handful of hair and hissed into her shoulder "Hug me back, damn you." Hermione did. The premonition, the sense of doom, returned and she swallowed and begged for whoever was listening to make it not so. Not that, not now.

Bella jumped off and gave a cracked, deranged grimace that might have been a smile.

"Well then, Hermione, if you're ready, you may go and apologize to Lucius and Narcissa now."