Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Jezebels\' Tale	By : Wildling Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of it. I make no money from the writing of this nor any other fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-The Jezebels' Tale
- 2-2
- 1
- 2
AN - Its a little slow to start, no sex this chapter, just plot. Expect sex in CH 2 or 3. Romantically this is a Ron/Hermione fic, but sexually it will get a little adventurous. If there is anything extreme or unexpected I will post additional warnings at the top of the chapter the scene appears in. I put pretty harsh warnings up already - most are not warranted yet, but I don't want to shock anyone when things get more controversial.

I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors I didn't catch, I don't have a beta and I'm not the greatest proofreader.

----

Hermione

Hermione came to consciousness with a start. She sat bolt upright, which she immediately regretted – her head began to swim and her body threatened to lapse back into unconsciousness. She lifted her hand to her forehead and felt a painful lump. She checked her pocket for her wand, not finding it. The back of her head hurt as well and her fingers came away covered in blood when she prodded it with her fingers. She didn't know where she was, or what day it was, nor if it was night or day. She wasn't sure how she had gotten the bleeding wound on the back of her head, but she remembered the events leading up to getting the lump.

It had been about three weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts, where Harry, along with so many others, had been killed. It signalled the end of the war. The Death Eaters and Voldemort had won. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville had escaped together after it was clear the battle was lost. Others must have escaped too, but they'd heard nothing from anyone since their escape.

Their life on the lam was rough – they soon found out that apparation was being tracked. It was several days after the Battle when they'd apparated to a new location after checking the Burrow for signs of the Weasley family or other Order survivors. They'd found nothing, but were soon attacked by Snatchers. When they apparated away, the Snatchers followed. They had fought them off with great effort and cost – Neville had been killed in the struggle. They buried him under a tree, carving his name into the trunk.

After that travel was slow. Though they had killed the first group of Snatchers, others had come and were combing the area looking for them. They were smart too and the small group had taken to concealing only the area of their tent which they placed under the umbrella of a smallish Weeping Willow tree – a place the Snatchers had not tried to walk. They were very careful in the protectives they placed and they rarely left the tent.

The Snatchers were closing in on them. Hermione was not sure how – but every day they seemed to be moving closer, narrowing their search area. Finally the group of Snatchers – much larger than the past group was within sight. They had huddled in the tent until a Snatcher was at the edge of the leaves, calling to them “Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley and Ron Weasley. We know you are in there, come out and surrender your wands.”

The three nodded to each other and burst out, ready to make their last stand. The Snatchers this time were working together. As they came out, at least a dozen spells flew at them. Hermione had felt her wand fly out of her hand and was then hit by a body bind curse and fell face first to the ground. Her head hit a root and the last thing she saw before the world went black was Ron landing beside her and his hand reaching out for her.

That brought her to now. Waking up... where? She put her attention to her surroundings. She was in a room. It was small, perhaps 12 feet long and about the same wide. The ceiling was high and there was a light shining from it, making the room bright. The whole room was concrete, save for the large, heavy metal door. There was no visible handle on the door, it seemed to open from the other side. Clutching her head, Hermione got to her feet. She turned to look behind her. There were no windows in the room – no way to see out. She examined the door. There seemed to be a smaller door within the door – she estimated it was about a foot long and half a foot tall. Not big enough for much to fit through. She pushed at the door experimentally. It did not budge. She tried the smaller “door” which also seemed solid.

As she did she noticed that on her wrist was a bracelet. It was thick, appeared to be made of some sort of metal and when she examined it closer she found no seams. She tried to slide it off. It moved slightly, not rubbing her arm though – as if it were cushioned. But it was too tight to move more than a few centimetres.

She pursed her lips and went back to exploring her surroundings. There was a small mat in one corner, a bed. It had no blankets or pillows. In the opposite corner was a hole in the floor. It was a little bigger than two fists and from the smell she was guessing it was a toilet, and none too clean. The room was a comfortable temperature. On the warmer side, but not hot. That seemed to be the extent of the room. She knocked on the walls, they were solid and her fists hitting the wall made little sound. She tried the door. It made more noise, but got no response. She shouted out “Ron?! Ginny?!” to no answer. She called out for several minutes before deeming it fruitless.

Escaping didn't seem likely – nor would she leave without her friends, who she supposed were likely in rooms similar to hers. She moved and sat down on the mat, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. 'Think Hermione... what can you do?' she wondered. She spent her time trying to think of plans, but none seemed possible. She attempted to cast spells, any spells but found herself unable to cast even the simplest wandless magic – her attempts led to nothing. Time passed slowly with no changes to mark the hours. Her stomach started to grumble. Periodically she would try the door and shouting again – to no avail. Finally she curled up on the mat and drifted off to a restless sleep.

She was awoken when there was a clicking. She sat up in time to see a cup and a bowl levitate through the open mini-door and set on the ground. She rushed towards it as it snapped shut. She hit the door and cried out “Tell me what's going on! Where am I? Where are Ron and Ginny?” She got no answer, she heard nothing at all in fact. She wondered if the room was soundproofed. Other than the sounds she had made and the click of the door opening and shutting, she had heard no sounds since she had awoken.

She looked down at the cup and bowl on the ground. They were grayish in colour and when she touched them she was surprised to feel that they were rubbery - similar to the silicone bake-ware her mother had been fond of. She sniffed the food and drink apprehensively. They appeared to be warm porridge and water, respectively. She knew they could contain any number of potions or poisons, so she left them alone and went back to the mat. She sat and stared at the door for a long time, but nothing happened. Hours passed and she moved from the mat only to relieve herself.

She was getting desperately hungry and thirsty but she feared eating or drinking. Again she drifted off to sleep. When she awoke, the bowl and cup were gone. She was awake when the door clicked, and she rushed forward and tried to put her fingers through the gap. She was rewarded with a shock that literally knocked her on her ass. She stared as a cup and bowl again levitated through the opening and landed on the ground and the little door clicked shut again.

She stubbornly went back to the mat again, refusing to even examine the offered food and water this time. She divided her time between napping, trying to think of a plan, banging on the doors and walls and sitting and staring at the door. The food and water came and went several times. She wasn't sure if it had been only one day or several, it was difficult to measure the passage of time with so few clues.

She remembered reading that in ideal conditions a person could go without water for about a week, give or take. She found that her stomach stopped grumbling and she was not hungry any longer. Her mouth grew dry and her daily walks grew harder, she was unsteady on her feet and weak. She spent more time sleeping. The food came and went 4 times in total. She found her mind growing foggy and confused and she knew that if she kept refusing drink she would die soon. She thought of Ron and his hand reaching out to her as they were on the ground. 'If there was a chance he is alive and I might see him, I must try to survive.' she thought. For a moment she thought she saw him in front of her but when she blinked the vision was gone. She decided that the next time food came she would eat, in hopes that eventually something would change and she'd find whether Ron was alive or dead, if nothing else.

When the fifth cup and bowl arrived she finally crawled to the cup and bowl and took unsteadily lifted the cup to her mouth. The water was cool and tasted like heaven. She drank about half the cup before setting it down. Her stomach felt unsettled. She sat on the floor by the cup and bowl for several minutes with her eyes closed, breathing slowly. When she was sure she wasn't going to throw up she opened her eyes. She dipped her fingers in the porridge and scooped some into her mouth. It was gummy and tasteless, but she forced herself to swallow. It took a great deal of time but she forced down about half of the porridge and the rest of the cup of water. She crawled back to the mat, feeling slightly ill, but stronger than before.

The cup and bowl disappeared some time later. The cup and bowl appeared two more times, and each time she drank the whole cup down and ate some of the porridge. She sighed. She had given in and decided she wanted to live – but with no contact from anyone and no sign that would change she felt as if she was going crazy. She was weak from lack of food, though she felt better than she had before eating. The problem wasn't her body, it was her mind. She didn't want to give up, she was holding on to hope and trying to live, but she couldn't force herself to do anything else.She'd stopped bothering to yell or bang on the doors, and rarely moved from the mat except to eat or relieve herself.

She was resting on the mat when the door opened and Ron was unceremoniously pushed through it. He landed on his hands and knees on the floor as the door slammed shut behind him. He looked at her in shock... “Hermione? Is that you?” he asked incredulously.

------

Ron

“Hermione? Is that you?” he asked incredulously. He couldn't believe his eyes. Hermione looked half dead. She was dirty and her hair was tangled and matted with blood. Her eyes had large bags under them and it was hard to tell in her clothes and position, but she looked like she had lost quite a bit of weight. He'd lost weight too, in his time in the cell. But she looked worse than he thought he looked.

After the fight in the woods Ron had woken up in a small room with no windows. His stomach was grumbling the moment he woke up, food had been a little scarce the last few days locked in the tent as the Snatchers closed in around them. He was relieved when not long after waking a bowl and cup levitated in through what appeared to be a smaller door within the large door to the room. He hadn't noticed that in his inspection of his quarters. He rushed over to the bowl and was disappointed to find that it was gloopy looking porridge and the cup contained water. Nonetheless he ate the whole thing, disgusting as it was it was better than nothing.

They'd given him food 7 times, which he supposed meant he had been there a week. At first he had called out for Hermione and Ginny and banged on the door for hours, cursing until his throat was scratchy. He got no response, but continued this every time he imagined he heard a noise outside – someone was going to answer, to do something. This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced – when they had been captured by Snatchers in the past they'd been brought to Malfoy Manner. Hermione had been tortured and the cell had been a shared cell. This time, he'd had no contact with anyone and had begun to go stir crazy, singing songs to himself and walking endless circles of the small room.

Today had been different. Shortly after his food had been gulped down, the big door had opened. Two very large men, dressed in black robes marched into the room. He jumped to his feet. “What is going on? Where am I? Where is Hermione? Ginny?” he demanded. He got no response, they each just grabbed one of his arms and started dragging him out of the cell. He struggled against them, but it was no use, they were far too strong and he too weak. They dragged him into an open room with several shower heads. A chain came down from the ceiling and bound his hands above his head and another came from the ground and bound his feet.

The men released him. One pulled out his wand and vanished his clothing wordlessly. Ron yelped in surprise as cool water hit him. “What the fuck?” he cried out. “Are you some sort of pervs? Getting me naked.” The men still said nothing, neither one seemed bothered by his words. The one without the wand started scrubbing him with a soapy sponge he'd pulled out while Ron was looking at his partner. The sponge was rough and scratchy the the scrubbing was far from gentle. He voiced his displeasure in vain as he was roughly showered from head to toe. The man had reached his private parts and Ron had started to shout. “Oh no. You are not touching me there, you dirty pervert!” He struggled against the chains but the man just continued with the scrubbing. Ron finally just closed his eyes and tried to ignore the discomfort and indignity of it all.

The water stopped and he felt something tap his head. He opened his eyes in time to see inches of his hair, from both his head and the beard he'd been sporting after a week of no grooming falling to the ground. That brought forth a new round of cursing at the silent men. His feet were freed from the chains and he used the chance to kick out at the closest man. He connected with the man's knee and got a response. The man frowned. A pair of red baggy pants were produced by the man with the wand and they were pulled onto him as he struggled. It was better than being naked, but it was the principle of the thing now – he couldn't take it easily now.

Finally the men grabbed an arm each again and the chains above his head released his hands. Kicking and cursing he was dragged until he was dumped into a cell, where he found himself facing Hermione Granger. She was looking at him bewildered.

He pulled himself up and rushed at her and hugged her tight noting how small and frail she felt in his arms. “Mione, I am so glad you are alive. I was so worried. What happened to you? Have they been hurting you? I'll kill them...” he rushed out, the last words growled out angrily. When she didn't answer him, Ron released her and set back to look at her again. “Hermione? Are you ok?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. 'If they hurt her, I swear to Merlin I'll rip their hearts out with my bare hands...” he thought.

Finally Hermione seemed to shake off the shock and speak, her voice raspy as if she hadn't used it in some time. “Ron? I thought... You are the first person I've seen since I woke up here.” She reached a hand out to him and he took it in his. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she whimpered slightly, as if holding in a sob which threatened to make him lose it.

He lifted his other hand to her cheek. “Shh... It's ok now. We are together. It'll be ok...” he comforted her, though he wasn't sure it was true.

Behind him, the door opened and another man in black robes cleared his throat. “Touching reunion, hate to end it” he said with no expression in his voice or face to hint that he meant what he said. Two large, burly women marched into the room as Ron dropped down and blocked Hermione. “Don't touch her, you ...” he growled out before being hit with a stunning spell via the man at the door. He watched helplessly as Hermione was grabbed by the two women and dragged from the cell. The man stepped out and the door closed behind him...

Ron struggled to his feet and let out a strangled cry as his fists hit the wall. “Bloody hell!” He knew that pounding on the doors and shouting was useless, but he did it anyways. After ten or fifteen minutes he settled down and went to sit on the mat, looking at the door. He ran his hand across his head, something he hadn't thought to do before now. He appeared to have a buzz cut, though his hair wasn't a big concern at the moment.

He wondered if Hermione was getting the same treatment he had. The thought of her being stripped naked and forcefully washed made him feel slightly sick. He hoped they treated her with more dignity than they had him, but he doubted they would. The only slightly comforting thought was that two women had dragged her off, so presumably they would be the ones showering her, not the big ugly men who had done him. Ron rocked back and forth slightly as his mind started coming up with scenarios, each more frightening than the next. They were torturing her, raping her, killing her...

His mind drifted to his sister and the thought made him punch the wall again. Ginny! She was likely experiencing more of the same. He hoped for both their safety as the minutes ticked by slowly. Finally, after what felt like many hours, but was likely closer to one, the door clicked open and Hermione was pushed in, the door being slammed behind her. She didn't stumble to her knees like he had, the push had been less forceful, maybe.

She stood, looking both more like herself. She was clean and dry, her hair had been trimmed a bit shorter and she was dressed in a red shift dress which drew attention to how thin she was. Her eyes were brighter though as she walked towards him and dropped to sit beside him. He wanted to bombard her with questions, but she leaned her head on his shoulder and quietly said, “I'm alright, they just gave me a shower.”

They sat silently like that for a long time, there was nothing to say. Eventually they both grew tired and lay down. Hermione curled up and he curled behind her with his arm protectively around her. He kissed the back of her neck, and she did not respond, she was asleep. Ron too was tired, but it was a long time before he could fall asleep, his mind worrying about what would come next – and what had become of Ginny.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Jezebels\' Tale