Title: Not like the others
Team: Spy for the Order (for now)
Word Count: 800 (100 * 8)
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: One of these things is not like the other
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Draco, Lucius, Dolohov, unnamed Order members
Author's Note: I am not JKR. I do not own the world of Harry Potter. I make no money from this. This was my first posting to GS100, please forgive any mistakes on my part.

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Whenever she heard the door to her prison room open, Hermione cringed and cursed herself for being caught by the snatchers.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had been hunting Horcruxes. They were cranky and weary from the lengths they had to go to destroy those little snippets of Voldemort's soul. Hermione had been caught while out foraging for food because, once again, the boys couldn't be arsed to do it. She'd been so careful not to draw attention to her thievery. After being in Voldemort's clutches for what she determined to be a month, she still couldn't figure how this happened.

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She had become not really a bargaining chip, but a tool to weaken the Order's defenses. They had the Order's golden girl, and they were sending her back a piece at a time. First, it was a lock of her hair. Then it was some pages from her journal. What really heated up the war was when the Order received Hermione's Head Girl badge.

Upon opening that fated package, the silence was deafening before someone whispered "Looks like we're well and truly buggered now. There's no hope for any of us if we don't have Hermione doing the brain work."

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In her darkened prison, Hermione couldn't tell night from day, up from down, or in the beginning who the person was stepping into her room. As time went on, however, she slowly picked up physical differences amongst her captors as they forcibly took her. Their voices were always altered and their faces hidden by the absence of light in the room, but that didn't stop Hermione from being able to figure out who was tormenting her at any given time. Depending on how she was 'taken' and the words her assailants used, Hermione worked out who had entered her room.

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Draco liked to call her 'Filthy Little Mudblood' as he was forcing his cock down her throat. He also referenced the many instances they'd faced off whilst at Hogwarts. Draco seemed to take a sick and demented pleasure it spanking Hermione, pulling her hair and sodomizing her while he droned on and on ad nauseum about him being the superior person. It seemed that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. In a twisted way Hermione had grown to cherish those childhood insults. It reminded her of times when the world didn't seem such a scary place.

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Lucius was much more brutal in his approach to Hermione's service to him. There had yet to be an encounter with him that didn't leave Hermione bruised, battered and incapable of movement before wandlessly healing herself. Lucius was into serious BDSM, and he let loose on Hermione often. He enjoyed seeing her back whelped and bleeding from the scourge and the reddened paddle marks on her arse as her took her from behind. He never uttered a word during the acts, but he would always depart by saying he couldn't believe he had sullied himself with a lowly mudblood whore.

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Dolohov used Unforgivables to subdue Hermione before he approached her. He wanted a docile Hermione and that could only be had after he subjected her to a few rounds of Crucio. He was a sick soul who got off by inflicting as much pain as possible. He liked to Crucio her with his cock inside her. He found out the hard way that a physical connection on any level caused the pain to filter through Hermione and began weakening his resolve. He always managed to get the best orgasms from hitting her with a mild Crucio right before he came.

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Snape's approach was different from the others. Much like Hermione, he was living his own impossible situation. He felt tender towards her, and he showed it while they rutted. It was never rape as she seemed to relax once she knew it was him. He would identify himself by whispering that he wanted to 'bewitch her mind and ensnare her senses.' While he pounded into her, he would again whisper to her to keep her spirits up, giving her even the smallest inkling of hope that this would all soon be over and become nothing more than a bad dream.

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She believed everything Snape said under the cover of darkness. She had an even greater respect for him. She knew he wasn't like his compatriots; he wasn't willingly following Voldemort. He had indeed bewitched her mind, ensnared her senses so completely that she had no hopes of ever escaping him. When it was time to show where his loyalties lay, he wouldn't hesitate to take her with him as he broke the ranks. He would prove to the world once and for all that he was unlike any other. She just prayed that their suffering would not be in vain.