Filthy Little Mudblood | By : Lupinswolfie Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 30388 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Lucius sat in the overstuffed armchair, staring into the fire as he swirled his expensive brandy absentmindedly and silently cursed himself. He had felt forced into holding an official ceremony for his dead wife and his only thought during the entire service was that his son wasn’t there. The son who held a special place in Narcissa’s heart and who had loved her deeply in return. Perhaps that was the reasoning behind his idiocy and the actions that had all but sentenced him to death--or would have, if it hadn’t have been for Hermione’s intervention.
Ah, Hermione. What was he to do with her now? Was the price she made him pay for his son’s life too high? Could he actually handle joining sides with the Order of the Phoenix and not kill those he loathed so desperately. Not even a full day ago, he would have willingly killed any one of them, had on many occasions, and now he was expected to kowtow to them. Perish the thought and let him drown in despair and humiliation now. He was to become what he hated even above those of muggle decent…a blood traitor. The thought brought a groan from deep in his chest and he closed he eyes, willing it to all go away.
Could he really do this? Could he turn his back on the beliefs he had known since infancy and betray all he held dear? Draco had to be protected, of that there was no question, but what about protecting himself from the expected actions? The Dark Lord would not stay ignorant of such things for long and the repercussions would range from beyond brutal to begging for death. This was all her fault, he thought contemptuously, silently cursing the day he had agreed to take a slave.
He had often remarked to his son in jest that his hatred for the mudblood was more of lust than hate, owing to the fact that she was so beautiful. Draco had wanted her since Hogwarts and had found himself extremely jealous that his own father had taken her instead. Perhaps that was the reason he forced himself upon her, or perhaps it was punishment for Narcissa. The young man may very well think that his mother was innocent of any wrongdoings and that Lucius himself had betrayed his wife. No matter what the many reasons, Draco had landed himself in a prison cell, whether here or at Potter’s stronghold, it mattered not.
And the witch knew wandless magic?! He could only perform small amounts of magic without a wand, so how was it that she knew so much. Could she not have stopped Draco’s attempt without calling out to Severus and sending them all running to her rescue. That was a rather pathetic display, he scoffed. The Dark Lord and his two ‘most trusted’ rushing to save a mudblood slave. It was no secret, to anyone it seemed, that the Dark Lord wanted Hermione for his own. Propriety alone had kept him from taking her a long time ago. But, what now? What was to become of her now that Lucius had suddenly lost favor with the evil wizard? Two failed missions and a progeny failure left little hope that Lucius would find favor again anytime soon.
Besides, the mudblood had made him feel as though he was her world, and all the while, she had been with others. There was no denying the Dark Lord himself had had her, numerous times, but he felt sure that others had as well. His missions had been many as of late, leaving her open to the advances of others. He had watched her with Severus on several occasions and, although his long time friend had sworn there was nothing sexual between then, Lucius had never seen two people so close. He watched as they became quiet, but then suddenly agreed on something they had been discussing minutes earlier. What connection could possibly allow something of such magnitude that Severus would know when she was in trouble and needed them? Rabastan had also been overly friendly with her as well. They danced entirely too close and the younger man’s hands often strayed to places they had no business going. He was almost positive that her angry reaction was more for show; pity their Master had came to punish Rabastan himself. It was also Lucius’ experience that wherever one brother was, the other had been there as well. Rodolphus did ask to borrow her at one point. Maybe that was a ruse to make it look as though they had had nothing going on before. Perhaps, he had been to see the slave quite often in the past. It was starting to appear that Hermione Granger was far from innocent and anger and betrayal radiated off the blond man as he slammed his empty glass down on table and began pacing.
Severus was another issue altogether. How could the man betray all that they had worked for? How could he swear allegiance to the Dark Lord and then turn tail and run to that stupid old fool? Lily Evans’ life had never been worth the price he would pay when their Master found out what he had done. No mudblood was worth that price and, old friend or not, Severus wasn’t going to take him down with him.
Dammit all to hell, he pounded his fist down on the mantel and watched the flames reach up to lick the bricks. What choice did he have now? Between the two of them, they had forced his hand and made him take the Unbreakable Vow. Now the decision was rather easy…die by the Dark Lord’s hand or die from breaking the vow. Or perhaps, he thought wisely, things could be manipulated to his own advantage. That is, after all, what a true Slytherin of his substantial breeding and intelligence would do.
~ ~ ~***~ ~ ~
“So nice of you to allow me to join you, tim molisje,” he said quietly, his calm voice washing over her as she smiled up at him.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Milord.”
“You’re no longer repulsed by me?”
She grinned wickedly, “You are growing on me, Milord.”
A finger gently trailed along her cheek and she leaned into his touch. “How are you recovering?”
“Better than expected, thanks to Severus,” she answered quietly.
He led her to the sofa, changing his appearance to the one he knew she liked and silently praising her acceptance of his touch. “Yes, Severus has always been skilled with healing. Tell me, tim molisje,” he added, trailing a finger slowly along her jaw line and down her neck, “are you ready to soon seek your revenge?”
Hermione thought of Draco’s actions and the anger quickly entered her voice. “I believe so, Milord.”
“There have been enough formalities for the time being.” He paused before adding, “I’m giving you permission to walk about the manor.”
Her eyes widened in shock, “do you mean it?”
“I wouldn’t have said so otherwise. If there is anywhere you shouldn’t go, it will be warded and you will be unable to enter. But you must be accompanied by either Lucius or Severus. After tonight you may wish to seek someone out. That wish is granted as long as you behave yourself. Do what is wrong and you will pay dearly.”
“Of course,” she said happily. “What happens tonight, Tom?”
“Severus is being rewarded, once again.”
“Surely you don’t expect me to do that again!” she said angrily, standing up and pacing in front of him; arms crossed and face defiant while he chuckled.
“No, I do not wish for you to entertain another” he grumbled uncharacteristically before regaining his composure. “Severus is gaining a slave of his choosing from the captives tonight. He has refused this opportunity before, but it is what is due to him, so I shall offer again.”
“And you, Tom, will you take another girl as well?” she asked heatedly, slightly unsure why she should care.
“Are you jealous, tim molisje? I have already denied Bella because of you. Would you have me deny all others as well?”
“Perhaps,” she said quietly.
“What of Lucius? Do you wish him no others as well?”
She glared at him heatedly, “at the moment I don’t care what Lucius does or doesn’t do. But no, I prefer him to have no others.”
“You are quiet the selfish little thing, aren’t you?” he asked, half amused and half scornful.
“I can be,” she said coyly.
She walked back to where he was seated and bent over, one hand on either side of his shoulders as she slowly kissed along his jaw and crawled on top of him. He groaned loudly and allowed his hands to run along her muggle jean clad thighs and rest possessively on her hips.
“Stop now, witch, or I will take you--healed or not.”
Pulling back, she looked at him for several moments before kissing him softly on the lips. “Thank you, Tom,” she said quietly, crawling off his lap and sitting next to him.
Her legs were thrown over his own and he stared at them, then at her, and back again for several moments.
“We’re becoming quite cozy, wouldn’t you say?” she asked amusedly while moving her legs, only to have him hold them in place.
“Never forget your place, young witch, or to whom it is you belong.” The warning in his voice was clear and she struggled to hold in her shudder even as her anger slowly won over.
“I could never forget such things, Milord, as I am reminded of them constantly.”
“An intelligent witch such as yourself, with reason to do things that would be considered unsavory to my cause, needs to be reminded of where she stands. You could do great things, become something far greater than even you yourself imagine, when I take over the world, tim molisje, but in the meantime, you need to be controlled. Working alongside purebloods is a right in which you have to earn.”
Pulling her legs away and looking at him incredulously, she responded heatedly, “controlled?! Am I some animal in need of domesticating? Something wild that must be contained and controlled as though I was one of those wretched monsters you employ into your service?!”
His smirk quickly turned to anger and in a flash, he had her on her back and pinned to the cushions. “Do NOT speak to me in such a way, witch. I am your Master and I control everything you do and you will bow down to me like the others or face the consequences of your disobedience. Do you think there is something you can get by with, some trick you may have hidden that I do not know?! Do you really think you could use wandless magic and I would remain ignorant of the fact?”
Shock registered on her face and she stopped struggling against his strength. “How did you know?” she asked quietly.
“That is what is important to you in this moment? I could snap your pretty little neck where you lay and you want to know how I knew something.”
“I do not fear you, Milord. If you wished me dead, I would have been so long ago. I’ve gotten under your skin and even though you don’t realize it, you like having me around. So yes, I want to know how you knew.”
“Play me, witch, and you will suffer,” he warned, before loosening his grip and continuing. “I have known for a short while that you share a connection with Severus and that you have this ability.”
“You have? Why did you not say anything?”
“And spoil the fun?” he chuckled. “Come now, pet, I am not a young wizard. I have learned in my time that it is a far greater reward to allow one to hang oneself than to move too presumptively and destroy what could be advantageous.”
“You think you’re allowing me to hang myself? How could I possibly do anything here? I’m stuck in this room all day and the only people I see are you, Severus, and Lucius,” she spat, “What could I possibly do with your two most loyal servants to guard me?!” No longer looking into his eyes, she added quietly, “What would I want to do?”
He turned her face back and her eyes met his once again. “I am willing to take that chance. Hence the new allowances I am making for you. My only question is why you allowed Bella to continue your punishment.”
“My wandless skills are very limited and I was unsure of your relationship with her, Tom.”
“You were?” he asked, looking at her strangely when she nodded. “Bella was nothing more than a toy to me.”
“And myself? Am I only a toy for you as well?”
“I do not know,” he sighed.
Tom sat up slowly, releasing her hands and rubbing his temples before he continued. “I think you have manipulated me in some way…”
“You think what?!” she screeched. “How could I manipulate you, Tom? You’re far too powerful to fall for such mundane things as potions and spells!”
“Exactly,” he snapped, “and until I know what it is that you have done, I plan to keep a close watch on you. Now, it is time for me to leave and I suggest you get ready for the party. Muggle attire,” he said disdainfully as he stood and appraised her body, “will not be acceptable and there are guests I would like for you to see.”
“Of course, Milord.”
“You may very well be tested tonight, tim molisje, and I hope you are ready for that.”
Curiosity was delving into her body as she walked him to the door. She was fairly certain she would know the slaves, but if only there was a way of finding them, of saving them before they were to be given away. The door opened and he walked away, but she could hear his greeting and sighed at the reaction she was sure to receive in only moments.
“Lucius, Severus,” he drawled, “so nice to see you. I assume you will both be in attendance tonight.”
“Of course, Milord,” they spoke in unison.
“Excellent. I will see you both then.” He looked at Lucius with an evil glint and hissed, “your witch is getting ready as we speak, Lucius. Do take care not to be late, you would not like the consequences.”
“We will be there shortly, Milord,” the blond man responded, keeping any trace of anger from his voice.
Hermione inwardly cringed when Lucius and Severus walked through the door just in time to see her straightening the robes she had just put on.
“Having fun?” he sneered at her. Walking closer, he gripped her chin tightly and turned her to face him. “What I do with you is of no concern to him. I should fuck you right now, but I don’t put my cock where others have so recently been.”
She wrenched away from his grip and stalked to the table. “He came up here, Lucius, and we talked. That is all.”
“Yes, I do believe that,” he mocked. “I believe the Dark Lord has nothing better to do than to walk all the way to your room for a decent little conversation.”
Severus’ cold voice broke through their argument. “That is enough. Have we not enough to worry about without you two going at it like a couple of fifth years? I suggest we go to the meeting before our presence is missed.”
“He knows, Severus,” she said quietly, ignoring Lucius. “He knows I can do wandless magic and that you and I are connected. I don’t think he knows the specifics, but he knows something and he’s suspicious. He has granted permission for me to walk around the manor as long as one of you are with me. He also said there would be someone for me to see tonight and a test or something.”
“Yes, he mentioned as much to us earlier.”
Her faced became pained and her legs grew weak. “What if he wants me to hurt someone, Severus? I can’t do that!”
“You are not being initiated into his ranks, Granger. The test I feel will be of loyalty. How you handle yourself when placed in a position to choose between your old life and your new. Much the way you handled yourself with the Weasley girl.”
“You can do this, Hermione,” Lucius said quietly, momentarily forgetting his anger as he watched her come undone at the thought of hurting those she cared for.
“Lucius, what if…what if it’s Draco?” she asked, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.
He assessed her for a moment, taking in her obvious worry and fear for his son. This witch, who he despised, still managed to make him care all at the same time. What was there for him to do, but play along? He brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumbs, cupping her cheeks before gently drawing her to him, Her arms went around his waist and he cradled her soft body to his.
Pulling away slowly, he remembered all that had recently happened and pushed her to the side, “It won’t be Draco. You are set to punish him in two days, publicly I might add.”
Severus watched the display with growing concern. “It is time to go,” he said, taking hold of Hermione’s elbow and ushering her out of the door with a glare thrown in Lucius’ direction. Whatever his old friend was playing at, he was certain Hermione would come out worse because of it.
~ ~ ~***~ ~ ~
The room wasn’t magnificently decorated this time, nor was there the illusion of sophistication. Eight chairs were set off to the side, prisoners bound with black hoods covering their faces and their bodies in the positions of nervousness and defiance. Other tables and chair were set up around the room, many already occupied by other Death Eaters as their slaves sat at their feet.
Hermione looked at the other slaves intently. The ones that she recognized from before looked even worse; their bodies were pale and thin beyond starvation. Many had the appearance of broken bones that weren’t allowed to heal properly and bruises covered most of their exposed flesh.
“Harden yourself now, Granger, or you won’t last five minutes. You can not allow this to bother you. The fate of the world lies at your feet and your actions are being watched closer than you know.”
Severus was right, of course, and she called the darkness to her, welcomed it like an old friend as she tore her eyes away from the prisoners and slaves.
“A seat has been saved for her,” Lucius commented.
“It would appear she is finally being promoted in station ,” Severus added.
“It would also appear that I am right here and you can actually speak to me,” she snarled, taking her seat and glaring at the two men with her.
The doors slammed open and light flooded the dimly lit room as Voldemort entered and they all bowed. He spared a glance at Hermione before striding to his throne and taking his seat, allowing the others to do the same.
“My fellow Death Eaters,” he began coldly, “tonight we shall once again honor one of my most trusted servants. There will be no grand event preceding the ceremony, as I feel this night will be more informative for myself and that is what matters most.”
He stood and began stalking around the room, looking down at his servants as they bowed their heads in turn. His voice was cold and controlling, causing all thoughts to stop and concentrate fully on him. “You have all served me well over the past several decades, and most of you have had your rewards. However, only one has served me without fail and with increasing brilliance. He will be rewarded tonight with his choice of one of our fine prisoners, while others will get their choice of what is left. Several of these,” he said, pointing to the eight chairs, “belong to the Ministry; high ranking officials that want nothing more than to serve those that will lose this war and wish only to take what we have worked so hard for,” his voice hardened as he made his point, but amusement crept in as he continued. “The remainder serve directly to ruin us.”
Hermione gasped, and then closed her eyes when she realized what it was he wanted her to see. The prisoners were not only a mix of Ministry workers who were loyal to the Order and its’ cause, but the others were Order members as well. Was her test to hurt those she cared about? At this point, was she even allowed to care about anyone…anything at all?
Voldemort pointed his wand at the prisoners and the hoods disappeared, leaving the prisoners visible to all eyes as they were assessed and reassessed by the Death Eaters. One, however, stared defiantly at Voldemort alone and refused to look away.
“Ah, Mister Weasley,” he hissed slowly, walking to the man glaring daggers into his very being, “hate me now, dear boy, but your life is now in my very hands. What I choose to do with you, or what I allow to be done with you, is completely up to me.”
“Slither into a hole and die you worthless snake!” he snarled, and then spat directly into Voldemort’s face.
“Crucio!” Voldemort watched coldly as the man before him withered in pain, pulling against his bonds and screaming when he could take no more.
“Would you have preferred to stay with your dragons, Weasley? I would have left you alone in Romania. However, here you will suffer and I will take great pleasure in that knowledge.”
Hermione watched as Charlie’s head dropped forward, too weak to be held high any longer.
“As I was saying,” he began again, “tonight we celebrate loyalty, intelligence, cunning, and all those things that make one worthy of servitude. Severus Snape, tonight is your choice. You have declined my previous offers of having a slave of your own, but I am offering once again. Look at the prisoners and if there is one you so desire, then they will belong to you--to do with as you please.”
“Severus, you have to take one so they can be protected! Oh gods,” she exclaimed when the low light touched on all of the prisoners and the girl beside Charlie raised her head.
“What?”
“Ophelia, the one next to Charlie, she’s an Order member as well. She’s my…she was a good friend of mine.”
“Yes, she asked about you the one time I saw her.”
Severus broke their connection and walked to the prisoners, stalking around them as though he were looking at a beast for purchase. When he stopped in front of Charlie, the man raised his eyes to meet his and hissed, “Fuck you, traitor!” earning himself a chuckle from those around him, including Severus.
He continued assessing them, acting as though he were narrowing down his choices, until Voldemort spoke out, cold voice reverberating through the room as Severus stopped back at Ophelia. “Do any meet with your approval this time, Severus?”
“Yes, Milord,” he responded quietly, “the only problem now is deciding which one.”
“Perhaps you would like some assistance in that matter.”
Severus turned to Voldemort sharply. “Assistance, Milord?” he asked in confusion.
“Granger!” the Dark Lord hissed, earning a surprised gasp from everyone in attendance.
She calmly stood to her feet and said “Yes, Milord?”
“Perhaps you could help Severus choose his slave.”
“Of course, Milord,” she answered, wondering exactly where he was going with this task and hating herself for condemning seven others to a fate worse than death.
The feeling of Charlie’s eyes on hers was more than a little disconcerting, but it was the anger and hatred she saw reflected in them that steeled her resolve and kept her moving forward. She assessed the Ministry members, some she recognized and some she didn’t, before moving to the two people she had never seen before. Dismissing those, she walked around Charlie and Ophelia, trying not to notice the silent tears and look of betrayal written on her friends’ face. They would have been close, of that Hermione was sure, had she never been taken in the first place. Ophelia was the one person, other than Remus, who seemed to truly understand what she had went through with Ron. Charlie himself was like a brother to her and she had no idea how she was supposed to choose between them.
Knowing she had to act before the decision was taken away from her, she decided to manipulate the choice to her advantage. Ignoring the tears and grimace, she gently stroked Ophelia’s cheek and down her neck.
“Don’t touch her, Granger, or I swear…”
She moved swiftly, grabbing Charlie’s hair and yanking his head back roughly. “You’ll do what, Weasley?” she growled. “Call Mummy to come yell at me? Do not disillusion yourself with ideas of control. You have none. You have nothing except what the Dark Lord so graciously bestows upon you, so mind your tongue.”
She released his head and turned abruptly to face Voldemort and Severus. “Milord, I fear I am torn between the two.” Walking behind the prisoners, she pulled Charlie’s head back once more and hissed, “this one deserves punishment for his actions against you, Milord. I feel Severus also desires a bit of retribution where he is concerned.” Stepping behind Ophelia, she gently moved her auburn hair to the side and exposed her long neck while she leaned her lips closer to the woman‘s ear. “And this one, Milord, I feel would give him many hours of great pleasure.”
“I see,” he said, pride in his voice as he looked at both Hermione and Severus. “What do you say to them both?”
“Both, Milord?” Severus asked cautiously.
“Yes, both. There have been several times you have found the prisoners unworthy and therefore have chosen not to take one. It is for that reason that you shall have both prisoners. You may take them to your rooms to do with as you please.”
“Thank you, Milord, I am most appreciative.”
“Lay one finger on her, Snape, and I’ll tear you to pieces!” Charlie screamed.
Severus fist shot out, striking the man in the chin and sending his head back with a snap. “Control your tongue, boy,” he snarled, then grinned wickedly. “I will have the most fun watching as you beg for mercy while I fuck your little friend to within an inch of her muggle loving life. Then I’ll beat you like the muggles you so adore until you wish for death.”
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