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Chapter Five


Scabior looked at the girl.

Her long, dark lashes rimmed the eyelids that kept her chocolate-brown eyes, closed from the world. She had wild, untamable hair, much like his…

Only she had made obvious attempts to tame hers… and he had given in.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she sat there, her chin against her chest, one side of her face almost on her shoulder as her head hung. He couldn't help but keep studying her, from her slightly baggy clothes, to her rosy pink lips.

She really was beautiful.

He sat across from her, sat at his small kitchenette table. He had his legs stretched out on the table at first, but had swung them beneath the table, eager to get a closer look. So now he leant his chin on one hand as he studied her.

She'd been unconscious for a while since he had caught her, after apparating her to his one bedroom apartment. He wasn't too concerned, or surprised considering the amount of time and effort Lestrange had put in to torturing the girl.

As he looked at her he questioned himself.

iWhy the hell had he taken her? What was he going to do with her now?/i But he calmed himself, assuring himself that, had he been seen, the Death Eaters would have blown down his door an hour ago.

He peered at her, the mug on the table sat empty after the long time he sat gazing at the girl. She was beautiful, in a delicate sort of way. Her clothes looked too baggy on her, they didn't suit her, didn't flatter her. But it didn't matter. He was content with staring at her as she was.

iWhat bwasb/ he going to do with her?/i

Before he could ponder that question, she began to stir. He sat, chin in his hand as he smiled slightly, gazing at her still.

iOh God./i

She hurt. Her body hurt all over.

Had she fallen out of bunk and slept funny on the forest floor?

No. Something was pulling at her, telling her to wake her, telling her there was a reason she hurt so much and that reason was dangerous. She needed to wake up!

Hermione fought the urge to merely fall back into darkness again. She began to remember in a flood of memories.

iOh Merlin no! Harry! Ron!/i And before she opened her eyes, she remembered the ones belonging to the Snatcher, staring back at her.

Her eyelids fluttered as she fought them, finding them heavy as she opened her eyes. At first she saw her jumper, her shoulder. She caught the glimpse of a dingy looking room as her eyes began to focus. She saw a rickety single bed, an old one with metal railings as the head and foot-post. The wallpaper was peeling.

Her eyes travelled, feeling like she was being watched as she began to fully awaken. Then she looked up, straight ahead of her, into the eyes of the Snatcher.

She gasped, shocked as her heart leapt fearfully from her chest. She bolted backwards, finding herself tied to a chair. She cried out as the chair tipped and the Snatcher's hand reached out. He grabbed a handful of her jumper at her chest. He pulled her forward, the chair tipping forward slightly in momentum, before it stilled.

"Careful there luv. Don't want you to be cracking your 'ed open, do we?"

His smooth voice reached her ears, her heart pounding as she tried to calm herself.

He watched, as the realisation of her situation seemed to set it. She looked around hurriedly, taking in the grubby apartment. He didn't care. He was watching, as her brain seemed to tick away behind those wide chocolate coloured eyes.

He chuckled as she looked around, seeming to realise she was stuck.

She looked back at him, scared for a moment before she steeled herself.

"Who are you?"

And it wasn't a question. She was pleased that her voice sounded strong, it sounded like a demand, not the timid question that she had thought of seconds before.

He let out a small laugh of amusement at her audacity, sitting back in his chair before leaning in again. He merely smirked at her, happy to tease and taunt her for a bit. She looked around again in frustration, struggling against her bonds.

"Where's Harry and Ron?"

Another demanding question, this time more fear-ridden than strong. She was terrified. Where were they? Had they escaped? Was Harry being tortured and killed by Voldemort this very instant?

"I dunno," he said bluntly, still smiling at her. She growled, fighting furiously against the ropes that bound her hands, her body screaming in protest, her arm burning.

"Let me go!" She shouted at him, fed up with the act he was putting on. Because him not answering her questions was driving her nuts. Having him sitting there, so calmly, whilst her mind was running wild and her heart couldn't calm itself, well he was driving her mad.

"Ah, I don't think I'll be doing that luv." And she wanted to smack that damned smirk from his face, wanted to scratch those deep and searching eyes out.

Because she felt as if he could see through her, down to her very soul. He made her feel naked, just with one glance from those grey-blue eyes.

She sat back against the chair, teeth clenched together.

"And why not?" she bit the question out through gritted teeth, anger coursing through her body. She didn't have time to play his games. She had to get out, find Harry and Ron, make sure they were okay.

But the Snatcher's only response was to chuckle, her anger rising as she growled angrily at him. "Let me go!" She snapped at him again.

The whole time he sat there, his hand resting back on his chin now, she didn't stop her struggle. She didn't give up trying to get information out of him. It was clear to him now why Potter had hung around her. She was smart, strong… and beautiful. He knew what it was like to roam around the forest for weeks on end. No wonder they'd taken this beauty with them.

"Look," she tried to take a breath and calm herself down. But it didn't work. "I don't know who you think you are but…"

"Hey missy, it's my house you're in, so mind your manners." He was still smirking at her, and she was simmering with anger.

She looked around pointedly at the shabby room. The rickety single bed, the metal railings showing how old it was. The peeling wall paper, the moth-eaten curtains. Merlin only knew what else was behind her, beyond her view. And the kitchenette was tiny, a small cooker, on which a whistling kettle was sitting silently. A broken cupboard and another with a broken door, hanging off of one hinge.

Manners? In this place? In front of him, when the last time they'd met he'd accosted her?

"Ha!" She let out the derisive exclamation before she could clamp her mouth closed. She watched as his smirk finally fell. And in that moment her anger began to be replaced by something far worse… fear.

She was watching as he looked at her, eyes piercing her as he sat in silence. She couldn't read the expression on his face but she was struggling fervently at her bonds again.

iNice going Granger. Upset the Snatcher holding you captive. Smooth move!/i

Her anger had gotten the better of her and now all she could do was wait for the Snatcher's response… Wait for her punishment.

Finally he spoke, his back to her as he stood up and did something at the cooker.

"This might not be the Ritz luv, or the cozy palace you're used to Princess. But this is my home, and you ishall/i show me some respect."

He knew he was snapping. He was annoyed. Pissed off at the little chit. Not everyone could afford to live in a castle. He was lucky he could afford to keep this place. He took a second to glance over his shoulder, saw her looking at the table. She looked pitiful, head down and looking worried. But he looked beyond her, at the room that she had searched moments before.

Well it was a tip. But it wasn't his main concern. He was barely there after all.


One word and she lifted her head. He still sounded slightly annoyed, but he seemed to be attempting kindness. This was her chance. If she had a cup of tea, he would unbind her surely?

"Y-yes please." So if he undid the bonds that tied her hands behind her back, and kept her tied to the chair, she could try and distract him.

She looked at the doorway, ahead of her. She saw a small hallway that had two doors, one she assumed was the front door as boots and an umbrella were cluttered in the corner between the two doors.

He knew what she was thinking even though he had his back to her. He had no doubt she was going to try and escape. He chuckled silently.

iGood luck with that!/i

But he made her a cup of tea all the same. He wanted to give her the chance to be well behaved. Perhaps if she were well behaved he would be able to sit civilly with her, learn more about her maybe? Why it mattered to him he had no idea.

He turned, placing his mug on the table before drawing his wand, looking at her skeptically. He rubbed the slight stubble on his chin, scratching his head with his wand at he considered her.

Merlin, why couldn't his wand just go off whilst he was scratching that tangled mass of hair with it?

She tried to keep her face straight as he looked at her, but her heart was pounding. She found it hard to keep her eyes off the door.

He knew she would try and escape. He guessed what her plan was, but flicked his wand at her all the same. She cried out suddenly as the magical wands unbound her from the chair but forced her hands round to her front, coiling around her wrists once more.

She looked up at him in alarm and Merlin it was delicious. She was so confused, he saw the outrage running beneath her skin as she pretended to be good, to be innocent. And really she was innocent; he could still smell it on her.

"B-but…" She began, her eyes wide and questioning as she looked down at her tied hands. He merely ignored her, flicking his wand at the oven. He turned back, grabbing her mug of tea from the unit; a chipped, white mug compared to his black one.

Fine. Okay. So it wasn't ientirely/i ideal, but she could still run. She sat silently, heart racing as she waited for him to walk around the small table. He seemed to be going slower, just to annoy her. But it was probably just her imagination.

Her heart pounded in her chest as he reached out, handing her the hot mug of tea.

"Be careful, it's hot."

That was all she gave him chance to say. As soon as she had taken the hot mug of tea in her bound hands, she threw it in his direction, scrambling to get to the door.

He flicked his wand with ease, dodging the hot liquid instinctively.

"Impedimenta!" The liquid flew threw the air with the mug in slow motion as he moved round it, grabbing her arm.

She squealed in pain as he caught her injured arm, grasping his hand over the cut. She had propelled herself forward, her eyes set on the door, but he had grabbed her, pulling against the whole of her body weight.

The mug smashed as it hit the ground.

"Ah!" she squealed and then cried out as she struggled against him but he was having none of it. He pulled her back against him, dragging her back with ease. Her back hit him, her body pressed against his for a second, and he smelt that scent in her hair. He forced her round hurriedly, looking down at her sternly as he picked her up, lifting her for just a second, before plonking her down into her seat.

He flicked his wand, finally pulling it away from her upper arm. It had dug into her skin, scratching her. But she was more grateful when he moved his other hand, the one that was now wet with her blood. The cut on her forearm had reopened in their struggle. She cried out again as the ropes forced her arms round, her eyes watering at the pain of it.

"I didn't want to hurt you." The Snatcher stated, still sounding quite chirpy, like he had in the forest when he spoke to her about Ron.

i Your boyfriend'll get much worse than that, if he doesn't - learn- to behave himself./i

The words echoed round her head, reminding her of his threats.

iOh Merlin, where was Ron?i

"But you need to learn to behave." The Snatcher smirked suggestively at her, making her shudder. He turned to the sink; she presumed he was washing her blood from his hand. She felt the trickling blood slowly running down her arm. It hurt like hell, so she sat still, trying to think of a way out.

"So," Scabior turned. He hadn't missed the way she'd shivered under his smirk before he turned to scrub at his hands. He was sure she couldn't miss the smell of food cooking in the oven, and sure enough, when he turned back she was staring at it.

He grinned to himself. He could use that to his advantage. Barter his food for good behavior. She'd have to eat before he sold her on anyway. No one would pay for a half-starved little thing like her… well… then he thought of a few men who might. Men like Lucius Malfoy.

Scabior knew of his activities outside the manor. He knew what that Death Eater lot were like. Damn. He looked back at the girl who was staring intently at the oven, unable to hide the fact that she was obviously trying to come up with another plan.

Damn. He didn't really want to hand her over to the likes of them… He'd have to choose a worthwhile client. One with less… sadistic pleasures.

Damn. The smell of the food was distracting her. When was the last time they'd had a decent meal? Bugger.

iConcentrate Hermione! You need to get out of here!/i

It smelt like chips. Damn, she hadn't had chips in months.

She sat there, trying to focus on a way out of the situation she was in, but as he dished his food up, her mouth was watering.

Scabior dished up the fried eggs, chips and ham, the last of his food for now. He put the plate on the table, grabbing his knife and fork from the drawer that would never shut. He sat down opposite her, a cruel smirk on his lips as he looked up and saw the evident hunger on her face.

He tried to hide his smirk, continuing to eat his food in front of her. He waited until he'd had five mouthfuls, savoring the taste of real food, before he looked up at her again.

"Want some?" He smirked at her and she blinked herself out of her stupor. She hadn't even realised she was staring at it. She glowered at him, shaking her head and ignored the way her tummy disagreed with her decision.

He stabbed his fork into a chip before holding it out to her.

"Sure?" He reached out, moving the chip towards her mouth but she clamped her lips together, leaning back away from him. He laughed as he chewed the ham in his mouth. He couldn't help but admire her stubbornness.

"Well, don't say I didn't offer." He smiled at her, chomping at the chip on his fork pointedly as she stared daggers at him. "You should've made the most of it, dunno when our next meal'll be."

It didn't take long for him to eat his dinner. It seemed he really had been hungry. She presumed that he had also been living off what the forest could provide. She watched as he washed up his plate.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her small voice made him turn from the sink, looking at her as she stared back at him. He saw the sorrow in her eyes as she looked up at him, trying determinedly to appear strong. He wiped the plate up, regarding her for a moment.

He had no idea really.

"Need the money. We're not all as fortunate as you Princess." He put the plate in the broken cupboard and turned back to face her, waving his wand at the shattered mug on the floor.

"But you just handed over Harry Potter." She spoke slowly, as though he might not understand the significance of what he'd done. "You know that right?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, finding her attitude amusing. "So?"

"So," her volume rose. "He's the only one that can stop this war! Why would you do that? Why would you want Volde-"

He was across the room in a flash.

She felt the chair tip back as his hand pressed against her mouth. She looked up as he moved to stand behind her chair, he was looking around nervously. He seemed to relax slightly but turned back to look down at her, his hand still covering her mouth.

"Are you mad?" He finally breathed, looking down at her in alarm. He looked confused as he frowned down at her. "His name's taboo'd you stupid girl. I don't want that lot trampling through here."

Hermione glanced around and looked back up at him pointedly. He got what she was getting at. The room looked as though it had been trampled through long ago.

"Oi." He lent down and she froze, feeling his breath against her neck. He spoke into her hair, into her ear as he leant closer, her heart thumping against her chest. Her arm pulsed with pain as his body pressed against the back of the chair as he moved closer. Her fingers twitched as the fabric of his trousers rubbed at the cut.

His groin hitched when he felt her fingers brush against his trouser legs. Merlin what he wouldn't give for those hands to be a little higher.

He licked his lips.

"What did I tell you about manners and respect Princess?"

Her skin tickled as he breathed against her neck, speaking softly into her ear. But there was that feral growl in his throat as he spoke, that had frozen her in place. Her heart thudded and her blood was coursing with anticipation.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to drown it all out. Trying to ignore it all. Trying to abate the fear.

Merlin. He breathed her in. That smell, the feel of her soft curls against his face. She was driving him crazy. And he was almost glad that she wouldn't submit to him. Because he knew, that given the chance… he would ruin her.

"Now crazy girl, if I take my hand away you're not gonna say anything stupid again are you?" He brushed her hair back with his free hand, running the soft curls through his fingers. He gently brushed it behind her right shoulder, leaving her neck bare.

He slowly removed his hand from her mouth, staying where he was with his face close to her neck, his legs pressed against her hands.

She wanted to whimper, but she stayed silent for a moment as he moved his hand. The smell of evergreens and earth had filled her senses and she remained still, waiting for him to move. But he didn't.

She waited, silently as he brushed her hair aside. She heard him breathe in near her neck and she tried to hold back the shiver that ran down her spine.

"And what was that?" His quiet, inquisitive voice, so close to her ear. He had seen the way her body quaked. He was too close.

"Why would it matter if the Death Eaters came here?" She tried to change the subject and felt him still in response. "Surely they'd be pleased? Surely they'd be glad that you had me… that I didn't get free…" she trailed off, her heart aching as she thought of Harry… thought of Ron.

"I doubt they'd be pleased with me stealing you, Princess." The Snatcher's breath tickled her bare neck, his lips almost touching it he was so close.

"Why?" And it came out as a wispy breath. Not the strong question she'd wanted it to be.

She felt his fingers, his knuckles brushing the back of her neck. She tried not to shake, tried to ignore the fear coursing through her with her racing blood.

"Because I stole you from them."

He felt her freeze beneath him. Could almost see her brain ticking away as she questioned why and what he was going to do with her. He heard the small noise that slipped between those rosy pink lips.

And her head was spinning. He'd stolen her from Voldemort's inner-circle? But it was more than clear that he wasn't working for the Order of the Phoenix. So who's side iwas/i he on? And why did he have her here, tied to the chair?

And suddenly her memories flashed back to the incident in the forest. She felt him above her as she thrashed against him on the damp ground. No. No, she had to get out of there. She'd rather face the Death Eaters! At least if she was with them then she had a chance of being reunited with Harry and Ron!

Because she couldn't begin to consider what she'd do if they were dead.

Suddenly her body jolted, her heart missing a beat. The Snatcher ran his tongue up the bare skin of her neck and unwittingly her body quivered. A mix of fear, hate and anticipation.

She snapped her head round to glare at him as he laughed, leaning back slightly.

"Stop it!" She snapped at him. "Please?" She tried to be nice, be polite and she might get somewhere. "Where are Harry and Ron?" He laughed again in response.

"You're still worried about them?" He exclaimed. He looked down at her bare neck again, eager to taste her skin for a second time. "Look, if Potter's your boyfriend then I've got news for you…"

"Harry is not my boyfriend!" Hermione exclaimed, breathing fast.

"You mean you're with the ginger tosser?" The Snatcher began to question, looking both confused and disgusted.

"No!" But she fell quiet, the heat rising on her face. She had to look away, tear her eyes away from him as they watered slightly.

iHarry, Ron… where are you?/i

He was laughing.

"Oh dear…" Because it was blatantly obvious by her reaction, how she felt about the blood traitor. Oh dear… what was with her taste in men? She could do so much better than that dickhead.

"How could you do this?" She suddenly shouted, turning to face him angrily. Her eyes looked shimmery, wet, but she held the tears back as she shouted at him. "How could you hand Harry over? How is he meant to defeat Vol-"

His hand covered her mouth again; her face stinging where he'd slapped his hand against her.

"Oi! Look crazy girl, I warned you." And he was annoyed now. She hadn't even thought about what she was saying. She was just so mad! But if she said his name, if the Death Eaters came, surely she could find out where Harry and Ron were? If not she'd be sent to the other Muggle borns right? She could try and escape from there?

He moved his hand, but kept it hovering over her mouth for a second.

"Are you nuts?" He breathed in exasperation. "What you thinkin' sayin' the Dark Lord's name in the first place?"

"I'm not afraid of him." Hermione said blankly, still looking up at him as he stood behind her.

"Well you should be." He waved his wand and saw the panic on her face before she clenched her eyes shut. "Silencio" Her eyes snapped open and outrage fell on her features.


But as she went to cry out, nothing came. Not one sound.

"Well, that's better. Don't want that lot running through this place in the middle of the night." He said, referring to the Death Eaters. He looked down to see she was mouthing up at him, and he smirked in reply.

He leant into her neck again; felt her still as he stalked round the chair to stand before her. He crouched down, keeping his eyes on her, a small smile on his lips as he took her in. She really was a beauty.

He reached up and Hermione's eyes widened. It was the only thing she could do in response. His hand gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. She held his gaze as he peered at her. Peered into her with those blue-grey eyes. And again she couldn't move.

Heh. She really iwas/i beautiful. The more he looked, the more he saw it. His eyes stared back into hers and saw the fear there, the sorrow. He saw the strength, the determination. And he saw the innocence, her pureness.

iHow could you?/i

She mouthed the words, her eyes watery but holding the tears back. Her chocolate-brown eyes stared at him, accusing. And quite suddenly he felt the need to get away from that gaze.

"You know there are those of us whose lives have gone to shit because of your little Potter friend, Princess." He got to his feet, annoyed, but not at her. Not annoyed enough to raise his voice or give her reason to fear him further. Just annoyed enough to voice a reason, to try and get that look in her eyes to disappear.

"Not all of us have the means or methods to pick a side. Your precious lil' boyfriend there may ithink/i he's fighting for what's right, but what about those of us who aint in a position to fight? Things aren't just black and white luv."

He turned back to her, her accusing gaze annoying him further, burning into his skin.

"Look, it's not like you'll ever understand. Even if you're a Mudblood, you came from a rich home…" He could tell that, just by looking at her. Just from what he'd learnt from watching her since he'd chased her in the forest. "There are those in this world that weren't that fortunate. Those who had it hard enough to begin with… before your boyfriend started a war."

And it was almost a sneer as he leant against the table, glaring at her as he crossed his arms.

But she couldn't answer back. No matter how much she silently screamed at him, there was no point in opening her mouth.

And the sad part was, she kind of understood it! Really she did. Because even the Wizarding World seemed to have classes, classes that it shouldn't have, and was always pretended didn't exist. And though all witches and wizards started off in a castle, she hadn't given much thought to what happened to them after. She had always been smart, a lover of learning- top of her class. She'd always been told she had promise. She would go far in the Wizarding World.

She hadn't given much thought to those who weren't. The ones who didn't have much of a home to return to once they finished school. And had that happened here? Is that why he was a Snatcher?

She still didn't even know his name. And though she still hated him, still feared him, it irked her.

But she couldn't speak anyway. So she had no need to know his name, because she wasn't able to shriek it back at him.

He stood silently for a moment, still not liking the way she was appraising him.

He groaned and rubbed his hand over his tired face. He'd gone long enough without sleep. Two nights of stalking through the forest and hunting her down before he had caught her and taken her captive. He really needed to get some sleep if he was to be on his toes.

She was struggling at her bindings again when he straightened up. She seemed to sense he'd had enough of the one sided argument.

Again she sensed that it just wasn't fun for him anymore. So he'd had enough. But what he had planned, she didn't know.

He waved his wand, perturbed when she flinched and closed her eyes again.

She opened her eyes in surprise when she found the bonds had released her from the chair. Her hands were still tied behind her back, but she wasn't tied down anymore. She leapt to her feet and backed away, the chair spilling over noisily as he sighed.

Because she still wasn't giving up. And it both annoyed and amazed him.

She backed up, looking around; the only sound was her panted breath. She glanced behind her; the window was mostly blocked up with wood on one side behind the curtains. She tried to glance down but saw nothing but the rooftops of similarly shabby houses beneath and around them.

She looked up as he approached, rolling his eyes. With her hands tied together all she could do was try and dodge to one side, pulling her hands out of his reach. But he was a Snatcher. He was trained for this. And she was unarmed.

Easily he grabbed her tied hands, holding the magical ropes between her two wrists. She winced as the rope rubbed at her skin but when she noticed him looking, she wiped the trace of pain from her face. She scowled at him, fear in her eyes. Desperation was running through her veins- and how he could taste it in the air around them.

Because she had no idea what his plans were, what awaited her now he had sat and chatted civilly with her. Was it all a plan to lull her into a false sense of security? Because it hadn't worked. Not once had she felt relaxed in his presence. His eyes seemed to pierce her to the core every time he glanced her way.

And she hated the way it made her feel.

He tugged at the bonds on her wrists, pulling her towards him. She crashed against him, unable to prevent it. He didn't smirk, didn't give anything away with his expression. He just stared at her.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, because she had nothing to say, when no one could hear her. Suddenly his free hand reached up. She struggled again, but he held her firm, the ropes burning and breaking her sensitive skin. Her injured arm was screaming at her to give up the protest, her sleeve had fallen over part of it, and was rubbing at the open cuts.

Finally he spoke, brushing her hair back from her face, as though trying to sooth her.

"Now, do you think you can behave, whilst I get some sleep?" And it was almost suggestive, almost a threat. She didn't answer. She couldn't. But she looked up at him, finally, silently pleading.

iPlease… Please let me go?/i

She mouthed the words up at him. But it wasn't enough. He slowly shook his head before turning around. He began to pull at her and she dug her boots into the floor, trying to hinder him. Whatever was beyond that room, she was sure she didn't want to find out.

She was quite a pain in the arse really. He had to move, to stand behind her and force her on, her boots slipping on the floor as he pushed her forward.

In moments they had reached the hallway, and for a panicked moment, Hermione began to fear he was taking her outside. He was ready to trade her for his galleons already. She was going to be traded for his next meal, bartered away like a possession.

Well. She was nobody's possession.

She increased her struggle, flailing about as much as she could. Even surprising him by trying to bite at him. He almost chuckled at that, but concentrated on moving her without injury. Eventually she just tried to sink to the floor, a dead weight to hinder him. But it didn't. He merely pulled at her ropes, pulling her along as her legs dragged and scrambled along the floor, her boots doing nothing to stop him.

She looked up and saw the room they had left becoming further away as he opened the door to the bathroom. Cold air hit her and she shivered. It was evident that the door was kept shut for a reason; the room was like a fridge.

"You can cool down in here until I say otherwise." His smooth voice was at her ear as he practically threw her to the floor. She went to frown up at him but he'd waved his wand. More ropes appeared, wrapping themselves around a thick, metal pipe that ran through the bathroom from floor to ceiling. It was thick, the type you would get in old factories and warehouses. She'd even seen them in Myrtle's bathroom at Hogwarts.

But she didn't have time to question further, because once the ropes had circled the pipe a few times, they hurtled towards her. She cried out, making no noise as she tried to scramble away. The rope was faster, however, and wove itself around the bindings behind her back. She let out a startled cry as the rope tightened, her body dragged along the bathroom floor before slamming her into the pipe.

Her eyes watered, as she let out a silent scream. The force in which she had slammed into the cold metal reverberated up her back, but mostly her arm seared in agony. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, turning her head away from him so he couldn't see the tear that ran down her face.

"Sorry about that." But he didn't sound sorry at all. He crouched down before her one of his hands resting on her leg. And that touch disturbed her; she couldn't help but glare at that hand as though it was burning her.

"Now, if you're good…" he began. But that hand slid up her leg and suddenly she couldn't hold her anger back anymore. No matter how much her body hurt and screamed and shouted at her, she suddenly kicked out, one leg hitting his knee, the other his shin.

He swore, jumping back away from her and getting to his feet. He frowned at her in disbelief, stepping back out of her reach as she tried to kick him again. She was frowning back up at him, angry wet eyes. And for some reason it bothered him.

"So I'm guessing we're gonna scratch the being good part?" He waved his wand lazily and more ropes wound their way around her, this time binding her ankles together.

iLet me go!/i

One last try. One last attempt at seeking his humanity. But he merely sighed before stretching his arms over his head. He let out a yawn before turning his back to her. She looked around hurriedly. She shifted as much as she could, the pain pulsing in her arm. She kicked out her bound feet, hitting another pipe, the noise reverberating loudly around the room.

He looked back in surprise, but this time he looked on in amusement.

"No one can hear you luv." He told her.

That she'd already guessed, as she hadn't been gagged in the first place. The only reason she appeared to have been silenced now was because he feared her calling the Death Eaters to him.

"Even if they can, no one will come for you… not round here." And with that he smirked at her devilishly. "Besides… they're used to a fair amount of noise from my place… if you get my meaning?"

With that he made a clicking noise and winked before stepping out of the cold room, shutting the door behind him.

She heard him spell the door, locking it shut but he didn't guard the room from noise. It seemed he wanted to be able to hear what she was doing in there. She guessed it was in case she found some means of escape. Well, if he wanted to hear what she was up to, then he would. She was going to make as much noise as possible. Because Hermione Granger never gave up!

A/N: please let me know what you think? :) xxx