Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Verto Vitae	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 40710 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter nor do I make any money or intend any copyright infringement by using the characters therein.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
The rain pounded as hard in Wiltshire as it had at Hogwarts and Blaise tossed up another hasty Impervious Charm to protect them the moment they landed. A cloaked figure was awaiting their arrival this time and they were immediately escorted into the manor which was stifling hot compared to the unnatural chill of the night.
Narcissa stood just inside the door looking as tense and anxious as Hermione felt. She grasped her daughter's elbow the moment they entered and dragged her up the gleaming staircase without even a word to Blaise. Hermione shot a glance back at the one person whom she had trusted to direct her through the night. As she had when they'd come before, she wished Blaise would stay with her, but he simply shot her a grin and followed the cloaked Death Eater into a dimly lit room off the entrance hall.
No women waited this time as Narcissa threw the lock on the parlor door and shoved Hermione onto a lavish settee.
"Have you had your potion tonight?" she snapped as soon as the door closed. Hermione nodded, her throat suddenly constricted.
"Now, do not lie to me Valouris, for we shall all know in a very short while," she said, pacing in front of the fire, her white-blonde hair aflame in its elegant coif. "Are you still a virgin?"
"Yes," Hermione answered, her voice very small.
"You are sure?" She rounded on Hermione, her eyes glacial, every age line drawn in stark contrast to the flames behind her.
"It's not exactly something one tends to overlook," she replied scathingly, almost convincing herself with her practiced nonchalance.
"Do not mock me, Valouris! He will kill us all if you are not!" Narcissa bellowed. Her voice held an edge of hysteria and she seemed to have aged in the few short weeks since they'd seen each other, as if the strain of their situation had weighed as heavily upon her as it had on Hermione. She could see the guilt and fear leaking from behind Narcissa's carefully guarded face. Despite her callous exterior, she was still a mother.
"I am aware of that," Hermione said, standing to go to the woman, suddenly feeling for her. Could Hermione really kill her? No, Narcissa was not an innocent woman, but Hermione knew she loved her son, and apparently her daughter, in whatever twisted way.
But it didn't matter, she couldn't think about that, she had to keep her mind on tonight. Taking the woman's cold hands in hers, Hermione attempted to soothe her.
"Everything is going to work out."
For me.
Narcissa nodded curtly and dropped Hermione's hands to undo the clasp of her cloak, drawing it off and gazing down at her fondly.
"You look just as I imagined," Narcissa murmured. "I can't believe how you've grown. A woman before my eyes."
She smiled tightly and turned to retrieve a black box from the mantle.
"Your father wanted you to have this for your birthday," she said, passing the heavy case to her daughter.
Hermione opened it to reveal a stunning platinum intricately woven 'M' was embroidered with tiny emeralds and diamonds which glittered in the firelight. Narcissa lifted it carefully from its velvet bed to expose the dark green ribbon it was attached to. Taking the box from her hands, Narcissa motioned for her to turn around and draped the necklace around her, setting her thick hair aside to attach it in the back. They moved to the large vanity and Hermione fingered the extravagant pendant.
"It's beautiful," she breathed. And it was. The short collar accentuated the delicate column of her throat, the 'M' settled just above her exaggerated bosom.
"Your grandmother gave it to me on my wedding day," Narcissa told her through the mirror, her eyes swimming. "Goblin made. It has been in the family for generations. Even though you will no longer be a Malfoy soon, your actions tonight pride us as you cannot imagine. You will finally be one of us."
Hermione nodded, feeling slightly nauseated, her heart going out to Draco. She couldn't fathom having to become a Death Eater to make her parents proud.
The lock on the door clicked behind them and Bellatrix sauntered into the room.
"Ah, there's my gorgeous niece!" she sneered. "Come, let me look at you."
Face burning with ire, Hermione turned toward her and Bellatrix circled her like a vulture, finally stopping to stand next to Narcissa to eye her cruelly.
"I suppose you'll do. Not going to run now, are you?"
"Bella, not tonight," Narcissa said severely.
"What?" she simpered. "It's a reasonable question. It's not as if she has exactly held up to her vows until now."
"She has proven herself ready in the eyes of our Lord, is that not enough for you?" Narcissa snapped, her eyes blazing.
"Even he can be deceived by youth and beauty," Bellatrix replied scornfully.
"And I suppose your envy has nothing to do with these accusations?"
Bellatrix hissed angrily. "What have I to be envious of this spineless brat? The Dark Lord values me above all others! Your disposable kin is of little importance to him."
"And what do you mean by that, sister?" Narcissa cried, blanching. It seemed she was unaware of Valouris' imminent demise. Bellatrix smirked maliciously and took Hermione's hand, who was hard-pressed not to yank it away.
"Come, we must not keep our master waiting any longer, dear niece."
Bellatrix led her out of the room. Hermione looked back at Narcissa who was directly behind her and she nodded encouragingly. Together, they walked down to the entrance hall and along a narrow corridor beneath the curve of the marble staircase that she'd never seen until just now. Bellatrix stopped just outside the ominous black door at the very end, her face gleaming malevolently in the dim torchlight. With a wave of her wand her silver mask appeared on her face, Narcissa Conjuring hers in turn.
"After you," Bellatrix bade spitefully, her eyes glittering malevolently. "Try to please him."
Hermione held back the urge to curse the horrible woman and instead focused on what was before her. Bellatrix grasped the serpentine handle and opened the door to reveal a dim, high-ceilinged chamber, the floor and walls made of black marble so that the firelight dancing upon the surfaces made the room appear to swim before her and Hermione suddenly regretted her dinner.
A horde of hooded Death Eaters filled the room on either side of a long aisle leading straight from her to a dais upon which Voldemort sat on a high-backed chair, Nagini slithering over his narrow shoulders. Every silver-masked face was turned towards her, watching her, waiting for her to do something. Her heart clenched in fear as the reality of the situation washed over her.
She, Hermione Granger, the Muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter, was standing before the Dark Lord and every wizard in his command, about to become one of them.
Every single person in this room wanted her dead. Every single one of them was more experienced, more hardened, more ruthless than she. Her cover as Valouris now seemed a very weak disguise and terror flooded her at the thought that they could see right through it and had simply brought her here to torture and kill her.
When one of the women behind her prodded at her back, Hermione realized she'd just been standing there like a deer in the headlights. Erasing the morbid thoughts from her mind, she straightened her shoulders and started forward, the sound of her heels echoing throughout the hushed room, Narcissa and Bellatrix striding along behind her.
As instructed by Draco, at the foot of the two steps leading up to the platform on which Voldemort resided, she curtsied before lowering herself to both her knees and bowing her head reverently, the women behind her doing the same. She heard him rise, every movement deafening in the acoustic chamber. Each step toward her weighed like a stone upon her heart and she focused on her breathing in an attempt to still the trembling that threatened to overtake her. No one made a sound, the silence ominously oppressive.
When he paused before her she dared not even breathe. Hermione hastily brought up that white wall in her mind, bringing forth only thoughts of her desire to serve the man before her, allowing those thoughts to consume her. As anticipated, her world went blissfully blank, a mere moment of rare tranquility, before those practiced thoughts were rushing across her mind, laid bare to the man who invaded it. Once satisfied, he broke the connection and she sent up a quick thanks to Moody for his laborious Occlumency lessons.
One cold finger lifted her chin so that Hermione was forced to look up at the towering wizard before her. An icy shard of fear coursed through her veins as she stared into the inhuman face of the man who had murdered Harry's parents and countless others. Every instinct inside her was clamoring for her wand, for her to kill him, to end it now before he could hurt anyone else. It could be over in an instant - no one would be expecting the treachery, they would never be able to stop her in time. She could cast spells faster than anyone she knew. So what if they killed her once they realized what she'd done? It would be worth it to know he was gone…
"Valouris Malfoy, you wish to become my follower tonight, to serve me above all else, to give your life, if necessary, in service to me?"
This is it... "Yes, my lord. I wish nothing more."
"And in becoming my obedient servant, you consent to the reception of my Arcavi, to develop and bear it, in the advancement of my reign?"
His cold voice slid down her spine like ice, his red eyes searing straight into her. Did he know? Could he possibly know who she was? It was as if he could read her, as if he could see the deception in her eyes. She had never been a good liar, she could barely fool a few dim-witted school girls, let alone a dark wizard well-versed in deception. Why had she thought she could do this?
Stop, you can do this, you have to do this, they're counting on you...
Hermione swallowed harshly. "Yes, my lord."
"Then rise, my dear child, and let us begin." His white, spider-like hand appeared before her and she kissed it before taking it and allowing him to help her to her feet. Bellatrix and Narcissa had melted into the crowd at some point and Hermione had never felt so alone.
She tried to still the trembling that overtook her as he led her up the dais, her gown floating across the glossy surface. He turned her slowly to face the daunting mass of black, presenting her as if she were a prized show dog. Was Blaise out there, already one of them? No, Nott had said something about her being the first…but then where was he?
"Look on, my devoted followers, to our next comrade. By the close of this night she will not only bear the coveted echelon of a Death Eater, she will also receive my Arcavi, my latest progression in my journey towards immortal domination."
Whoops filled the air and Voldemort sneered at them all, looking incredibly pleased with himself. After a moment he lifted his spare hand and the room rang with sudden silence.
"As such, she will be honored as she can only imagine upon her upcoming nuptials. Until the delivery, however, she is to be treated as the vital implement she will become. Her safety and well-being will be of the utmost importance and I am counting on each and every one of you to see that she is as comfortable and secure as possible. She will be residing here at the Manor with me from now on; to be at my right hand at all times. She is your queen."
More cries filled the air while Voldemort smirked maliciously, Hermione looking on in astonishment. She was barely more than a child, one who had failed them not a year before, and yet with a simple word from their deviant leader, they were more than willing to accept her as their superior.
Voldemort turned his debauched gaze to her, his eyes rover her newfound curves.
"Bow to your queen," he commanded, his eyes never leaving her.
Hermione's breath caught as every single figure fell to their knees as concubines to their emperor. She jerked when Voldemort's hand settled on her lower back, the cold seeping through her skin to ice her insides.
"Rise, and watch your queen take the highest honor I can bestow."
They all stood wordlessly and Voldemort turned to her, his eyes glittering with anticipation.
"Hold out your arm."
Fear dug its razor-sharp claws into her lungs and she couldn't breathe. Her senses seemed to be on high alert, every inch of her body tense. Though no one made a sound her ears were ringing, possibly from the terrified screams she suppressed.
Time stood still. The moment she had been working towards for months was finally upon her and more poignant than she could have imagined. Never had she wanted to run so far and so fast from something and at the same time know that it was exactly what she must do. She had to go through with this; for her friends, for her family, for the millions of innocent people who would be slaughtered under Voldemort's reign. She had to do what she could to stop him. This momentary pain and fear would be a small price to pay for freedom.
Swallowing hard, Hermione raised her left arm and presented it to Voldemort. Taking her hand in his, he pushed up the tight sleeve of her gown, exposing the bare expanse of her forearm. She drank in the chaste sight of it, knowing it would never be that way again.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the destruction of her innocence, knowing she would just have to replay the image in her head a million times over if she did. She heard him raise his wand, felt the tip of it press into her arm -
And then her world exploded into pain.
Fire raged through every cell and she battled the urge to drop to her knees, Draco having told her it was the worst thing she could do. She tried to quell the screams from tearing out of her but it was useless, the agony overwhelming. She felt as through her body was being ripped apart from the inside and she could suddenly feel her blood, lava hot, scorching through her veins. She felt every nuance of the image being carved into her skin, the evil that emanated from the man before her creeping into every corner of her soul, rending it through, marking it irreparably...
And then it was over, leaving her breathless and weak in its wake. Laughter reverberated around the room, duplicating the migraine she was suddenly overcome with until her world was nothing but agony.
"Crucio!"
The anguish was unbearable. His evil tore through her, ripping muscle and breaking bone, white hot and excruciating, beyond anything any human could possibly endure. It went on and on and Hermione begged for death, for anything to end it…no one could possibly live through this…
She gasped harshly as the spell broke and she was left boneless in the wake. The din rose oppressively; catcalls and screams of mirth pounding through her throbbing body, every piece of her burning. Hermione realized belatedly that she was on the ground, her tear-stained cheek pressed against the floor, but had nothing left in her to stand. She knew she had to get up, to face him, to show her strength before he tortured her again, but her body wouldn't respond. She had expected torture, known the pain would be terrible, but nothing could have prepared her for this.
Voldemort was speaking but the simple task of breathing was all she could accomplish, the fire that spread through her with each intake agonizing. She knew she should listen, surely he was saying something important, something she needed to tell the others back at home, but her ears were filled with the rush of blood, the assurance that she was still alive, could still fight, could still make it back to her friends, her family, to Draco…
Draco…
"Cruico!"
Her throat broke from the wrenching screams that tore through it, her body jerking with the piercing agony. There were no words to describe the impossible pain. Flames licked every corner of her body, so hot they were ice-cold, while knives sliced through every centimeter of skin…
You are mine, she heard his cruel voice chanting in her head through the pain. You will serve by my side, you will give your life for me. But first, you will be mine.
The pain reached a crescendo and everything went blessedly black.
When she came-to, Hermione was grateful to realize only a few moments had passed as the throng of Death Eaters were still reveling in her pain, Voldemort sneering above them. She had to swallow back the bile which had risen up, knowing the more she showed her weakness the worse it would be. Draco had told her to prove that she could handle the pain, to rise and face him, but the thought of moving was enough to make her cry. Fear consumed her as Voldemort cackled deviously above her. Was he going to kill her now? Had she failed this, her very first test? She tried to move her hand to check that she still had her wand but her entire body felt as though it had been made of lead. Hermione sluggishly opened her eyes and blurred forms of Death Eaters swam before her. There were so many of them…how would she ever get out of here alive?
Dread engulfed her. She hadn't anticipated how weak the torture would make her, never having had to endure the Cruciatus Curse before. Her task now seemed impossible. How could she run if she couldn't even move? How could she fight? Would he even give her the chance to rise before he struck her down?
She thought of Harry. How many times had he faced Voldemort? How many times had he been moments from death and yet found it in himself to fight, to escape? He had been tortured that night in the graveyard, she knew he had. How had he possibly gathered the strength to fight back? He had to have been in just as much pain as she was...
But he had done it. He had fought Voldemort off, held him and a dozen Death Eaters off long enough to get to Cedric and the Cup. And he'd only been a child, not yet fifteen. This realization spurred her. If he could do it, she could too.
With every ounce of strength she had, Hermione gathered her hands under her shoulders and pushed herself up, her weak legs protesting as she stood and faced Voldemort who had stopped laughing to watch her. His face wavered across her vision but she didn't sway, holding her ground defiantly. With her back straight, she faced his sickly gleeful countenance before sinking into a low curtsy, the roars below them increasing tenfold.
When she rose, Voldemort took her hand and turned her back to the mass of Death Eaters who were bellowing with pride and admiration. Hermione had to work on just keeping her feet under her as the room tilted, her body throbbing with pain. Her eyes watered but she held herself together with sheer willpower. The worst was over - all she had to do now was maintain her façade of Valouris long enough to get away.
Voldemort allowed them to carry on for a few moments before dropping her hand to raise both of his, silence filling the room once more at his commanding presence.
"Lucius."
A tall figure moved from the front of the crowd to kneel at the base of the dais as she had done.
"Welcome your daughter to our ranks."
Hermione stiffened as his silver mask turned and his cold eyes met hers.
"Yes, my lord."
No, she begged internally. She took an unconscious step back as the tall man strode towards her. Not more, she couldn't handle it, she couldn't-
"Crucio!"
She could feel his pain and disappointment through the curse, different from Voldemort's but just as devastating. Hermione shrieked in agony and terror, begging for it to be over, grateful that she was too far gone to sound out the words. She didn't know how long he held the curse, but it felt an eternity, her entire body trembling as the curse broke off and she was once more on the ground.
"Narcissa."
Hermione squeezed her eyes tight, knowing what was coming. She heard the graceful steps of Draco's mother click across the marble until she was standing directly above her. When the older woman spoke her voice was soft, detached, as if she didn't want to be there any more than Hermione did, but knew the consequences if she disobeyed.
"Crucio."
Whether or not the woman wanted to torture her daughter, the pain was indistinguishable and Hermione was left panting when it finally ended. She rolled just enough to look up at her "parents," neither of which would meet her eye. They stood beside Voldemort who was looking on with a depraved sort of pride.
"Bellatrix."
No, no, not her, anyone but her... Hermione looked pleadingly up to the Malfoys, begging silently for them to intervene, but they both stood stiffly and unwavering beside their master, refusing to look at their tortured kin.
She could feel the buoyant excitement radiating off the psychotic woman as she nearly bounded up the steps to fall to her master's feet.
"My lord," she murmured demurely. Voldemort reached down and lifted her silver-clad chin, smiling down at his favorite pet.
"It is time."
Bellatrix grinned maliciously and turned to Hermione, rising and striding the two steps it took to tower over her prone figure.
"Get up, you pathetic, weak-"
"Careful, Bella, how you choose to speak to your queen," Voldemort reprimanded coldly. Hermione heard the spiteful hiss, though it was low enough not to attract anyone else's attention. Bellatrix schooled her features before turning back to her niece.
"Rise, my queen, so that we may proceed with our Lord's plan," she supplanted tightly, clearly unhappy with Hermione's new title.
Though every muscle screamed in protest, Hermione pushed herself up, knowing the request was a demand. She faced the mad woman stoically, awaiting her torture, swaying slightly, but it never came. Instead, Bellatrix held out her hand as if asking for hers, so Hermione raised her wand arm, the one not burning to the point of insanity, and the older woman grasped it tightly.
"Repeat after me, my queen," Bellatrix simpered. "Meum sanguinem, corpus meum est autem tuum."
No, Hermione thought hysterically. It wasn't supposed to happen, not yet, she was supposed to have time, to run to the powder room, to get away, to Apparate. But with the witch holding her tightly, there was no way she could reach for her wand or coin without being noticed and murdered on the spot. So though her throat felt as if it had been sliced with jagged glass, Hermione repeated the mantra in a horrified whisper.
"Meum sanguinem, corpus meum est autem tuum."
Then, without warning, Bellatrix raised her wand and pointed it at her arm, slicing through the thin skin of her wrist, making Hermione gasp in pain as the deep laceration instantly seeped through her gown and her blood dribbled to the ground. The witch before her Conjured a vial and allowed the wound to trickle several drops of blood into it while she grinned in pleasure at Hermione's discomfort. Once she'd received her fill, Bellatrix turned to Voldemort and handed him the vial with a bow.
"Sicut servus tuus, ego do tibi virgo."
Voldemort grinned maliciously and accepted the vial, downing it in one, making Hermione cringe. He caught her eyes with a smirk, her blood painting his teeth a deep crimson.
"Let us move on, my friends, to the next act of our show." Wolf whistles filled the room as Voldemort looked Hermione up and down sickeningly, stepping forward to lift her bleeding wrist to his mouth, sucking softly before trailing his lips over the throbbing wound.
"And doesn't she look ravishing?" he growled repulsively and Hermione felt that bile creeping back up as he turned and waved his wand, the high chair disappearing to be replaced by a black marble altar.
She shuddered at the image. Oh, gods, she was supposed to do it here in front of everyone…
Voldemort turned to her and any thought of being able to escape was vanquished as he rubbed his thumb possessively over her stinging wrist, smearing red.
"Come, my dear. Let us tarry no longer."
Panic struck Hermione like lightning and she watched helplessly as her hand fell into his, watched herself being pulled to the altar, heard the excited voices behind her, saw the terrifying red of his eyes as he looked her over.
The world seemed to move in slow motion and Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing through her veins, every ache and pain in her tortured body magnified as panic gripped her. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Hundreds of eyes were upon her, there was no way she could reach for her coin without a barrage of Killing Curses battering her first. Voldemort kept a tight grip on her, preventing her from Apparating lest she take him with her. There was no way she could get far enough away from him without being killed a hundred times over.
And as soon as he made to place the damn thing in her he would know she had lied and she would be murdered on the spot…
Think, Hermione! she begged her exhausted brain as she stumbled forward, her aching legs quaking beneath her weight. How could she get herself out of this? What did she need?
A diversion, she surmised, biting back a whimper of pain as Voldemort's grip tightened on her steadily bleeding wrist, his eyes roving hungrily over her. She needed to draw his lecherous attention away from her long enough to get away.
She jerked when he pressed her back against the altar, forcing her to sit upon it, her weak body protesting as she scrambled up. Hermione used the act of scooting back to try to dislodge him but he kept a steely grip on her as if he was waiting for her to try and run. His eyes bore into her and she knew he could sense her fear.
"No need to be nervous, my queen," he murmured, one long finger skimming along her jaw line. Horrified, she recognized the look he gave her as one she attributed to Blaise: one of possession - of sick, perverted desire. "It will all be over soon and you will be prized above all others. I will cherish you as I have no one before."
Hermione nodded absently and forced herself to be calm, to be patient. She could do this. She only had one shot, she had to time this just right... She fought the urge to run now, knowing that if she failed to properly divert him he would catch her and kill her instantly.
He pushed her until she was lying on her back, her feet facing the roaring crowd. She wondered vaguely how Lucius felt about the proceedings and a hysterical bubble of laughter rose inside her and she had to tamper it down as ridiculous thoughts flew across her terrified mind.
Why hadn't he undressed her yet? Was he a virgin? Surely not...but then again, had he ever been human enough to have needs like the rest of them? How long would he last? Was he well endowed? Would he hurt her on purpose to prove his dominance?
She began to shake as he climbed on top of her, pressing her legs apart and easing her dress robes up to her hips, her cheeks flaring as she was exposed to the crowd beyond. With a quick wave, her lacy knickers disappeared. She expected him to take her then, but he simply reached down inside his robes and Hermione looked away in horror. She waited, breathless, until he took his hand off her arm to balance himself on the edge of the altar while he prepared himself, little grunts of pleasure puffing from between his tightly pressed lips. She swallowed back her revulsion as he stroked himself, his movements quickening, his hips bucking slightly, his eyes closing in concentration.
It had to be now, while he was preoccupied, while he wasn't touching her…
With the tiniest movements possible, she felt for the wand in her dress. He was too close, there was no way he wouldn't feel her pulling it out. The only option was to strike quickly.
Hermione acted, lifting her feet to catch him in the chest, kicking out as hard as she could. He was propelled back off the altar with a cry but she didn't wait to see him hit the ground. Before her feet left his torso she had her wand in hand and she aimed for the sea of black.
"Incendio!" she screamed and a wall of fire rose up, blocking her from view. The eager screams changed to ones of terror and pain as flames roared in the pit of Death Eaters, engulfing them. Voldemort whipped around furiously from the floor and she took the opportunity, diving off the altar and Apparating in mid-air as the air blazed green.
.
.
.
A/N: Meum sanguinem, corpus meum est autem tuum: my blood, my body is yours.
Sicut servus humilem tuus, ego do tibi virgo: As your humble servant, I give you this virgin.

XOXO
RynStar15
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