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A World Not Fit To Live In	By : snowblind12 & Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 78124 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: These characters and the Harry Potter world belong to J K Rowling and her publishers. I make nothing from this story and I own none of it. It is based off the work of JK Rowling.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
BETA SHOUTOUT to the amazing RaynePhoenix2!!! We love you!
Chapter Sixteen
Lucius could hear Hermione in his shower while he stood at his desk staring at the two Elvin crystals from the night before. He knew he had to send her crystal off today, or he would be summoned and punished for his lack of obedience. However, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to send the little ball of glass that would tell the Dark Lord that the Mudblood in his care was possibly more powerful than Lord Voldemort himself.
He was unsure how exactly to interpret her results. The ball of white light was much, much smaller than the Dark Lord’s ring of dirty white light had been. The sphere itself was the size of an orange, and Voldemort’s ring of grey had been the size of a Snitch inside it, while Hermione’s pure white light was only the size of a marble. He could guess what the size differences meant – but was unsure of how to interpret the color differences.
Why was Hermione’s light brilliant white, while the Dark Lord’s was greyer? Did that mean Hermione was more powerful than his Master? Or was Voldemort more powerful because his whitish light was larger?
Most importantly, however, what would the Dark Lord require of Hermione – a Muggle-born with such immense power? It made him uncomfortable to realize he feared for the girl. The vision of her being taken from him was torturing him. He closed his eyes and dragged in deep, even breaths to try and calm the racing of his heart. He heard the water turn off and instantly knew what he needed to do.
Picking up the duplicate sphere, the one that held his results, Lucius etched Hermione Granger into the bottom of it with his wand before dropping it in the small box and tapping it with his wand to seal. Setting the parcel in his “Out” tray, he watched from the corner of his eye for it to disappear while he glanced around the room at the portraits. Narcissa and his mother were present, not that it mattered. Not one portrait in the house had seen them cast the charms – so none of them knew which sphere belonged to whom.
Lucius picked up Hermione’s crystal and thought briefly for a moment before he moved out through the balcony doors and carefully closed them behind himself. Tossing the sphere over the railing and into the sky, he aimed his wand at the glass and shattered it like a clay duck.
Part of him felt sick about sending the wrong sphere to Dolohov, the other part knew that using his results in place of her own would protect Hermione. It proved she was very strong, but not potentially stronger than Lord Voldemort himself. It was the only way he could think of to keep her as safe as possible with so little time.
Just as he was turning to go inside, Lucius spotted a large black dot cross his wards. It was an owl – and he was relieved. He was expecting a message from Snape. Lucius had told the dark man the day before that he wished to reinforce his Occlumency skills, that he had been having difficulty maintaining his shields as of late, and asked for a list of book recommendations as it had been years since he had studied the art. Of course, the list of books was for Hermione. Snape also said he would send a schedule for her Wandless magic training.
Lucius held out his arm for the large bird to settle on and used his wand to relieve the animal of its letter. “The owlery is to the west, you may stop there for a rest and a meal if you have the desire,” he told the creature who hooted softly and was off in a flurry of wings.
He watched the animal fly away as he replayed the scene from the night before in his head, praying he had made the right decision.
After Lucius had picked up her glowing sphere, Hermione had fallen back into her seat as if her bones had turned to liquid and stared as if in total awe of her own power. He chuckled quietly at the mental image of her, in disbelief.
“It should not be a surprise.” He had told her. “Not with your wandless magic abilities.”
She had given him a tentative smile and a gentle nod before wordlessly handing her wand out to him, handle end first. A frown pulled at his lips in remembrance. He had been shocked that he hadn’t had to ask for it, stunned that she had offered it up so willingly, and saddened at the look of pure devastation in her eyes as he took it from her grasp.
Twenty minutes later, he and Hermione were eating a simple breakfast in the dining room. “Draco didn’t come yesterday,” she said quietly after they had started tucking into their meal. “Have you heard from him?”
Lucius knew she was nervous for his son’s arrival. It had now been four days since he had last visited for a renewal of the bond. Lucius knew what the affects of the potion felt like after only three days, so he imagined Draco would waltz in at any moment to relieve his discomfort. “I know,” he answered her, as he quickly glanced about the portraits. “My day at Malfoy Enterprises is light, I will pay attention to the wards while I am gone.” He had spotted his father and adjusted his tone.
Glancing at his timepiece, he continued, “I am behind this morning, Miss Granger. I will have to leave you now. Here is a list of books I wish for you to take a look at over the next week. They should be in the library.” He lowered his voice, so his father could not hear when he added, “You also need to start meditating and clearing your mind daily, do you understand?”
Her eyes sparkled with understanding and he gave her an approving look when she nodded and murmured, “Yes, sir.” He stood and set the parchment next to her plate.
“Behave today, Miss Granger,” he instructed before giving her a shallow bow and leaving the dining room.
Constantly being under watch by the portraits in the Ladies Parlor was getting very tiresome. Hermione had attempted to get to work reading the occlumency books Lucius had given her, but the persistent whispered words of disappointment were fraying her nerves. They were dissatisfied mutterings from the observers who had begun to depend on her daily piano entertainment. She enjoyed playing the magnificent instrument very much, but not for hours on end every day. She did not want her only true escape to become a chore. The pressure from the portraits to play was becoming tedious. She understood. It was likely a very boring existence for them. There were only Lucius and Draco to watch over, as well as herself. There were no grandchildren and no Malfoy matriarch to guide and converse with. Having someone to entertain them must have been quite pleasing.
The one whom Hermione truly hated to let down was Willow Malfoy. Lucius’ mother was a delightful piano teacher. She didn’t scold Hermione for mistakes, she merely advised her on how to avoid them next time. Her demeaner was kind and nurturing and Hermione had become very fond of the witch and knew without a doubt that the lovely woman was fond of her as well. Willow had sighed heavily from her portrait the prior morning when Hermione had told Lucius she would study all day. It had clearly been a sigh of regret. And today would be the second day in a row Hermione didn’t play. Part of Hermione’s guilt stemmed from what she had learned of Willow’s history; the woman had had a very sad adulthood and Hermione was pleased to accept some kindness and give something in return.
Narcissa had explained to Hermione about Willow’s ten-year silence and cautioned Hermione against letting Lucius know that Willow was talking to and teaching her. Willow wasn’t talking to the other portraits and Narcissa feared it would hurt Lucius if his mother continued with her silence towards him as well. The heartache Narcissa felt from Draco’s refusal to talk to her was upsetting beyond words and she would not wish that heartbreak on her widower husband. Apparently, Willow had been abused by her husband, Abraxas, and her death had been under suspicious circumstances. Narcissa didn’t go into too much detail, but the woman’s spirit had been broken and her self-worth shattered by the hateful man.
This was Hermione’s education, though. She needed to study, and she needed quiet. It was because of her desire to escape the constant disappointed gaze of a room full of portraits that Hermione fled to the pool room. She had asked Tinny to place a simple impervious charm on the books to keep them from being damaged by the humid and chemical ridden air. She had just gotten herself situated and finished looking over the table of contents of the first book when she felt it. The wards had activated. The pins and needles creeping up her body told her it was Draco and not Lucius. The wards would cause a warm flush if it was Lucius.
Unable to stop it, intense anxiety and dread washed over her. She had known he would come and had been expecting him since the day before. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to remain calm. She wished there was a potion she could take to make her not care what he did to her. Something that would numb her brain and her emotions. She began gathering the books deciding she would head back to her room.
Hermione flinched when the door opened. He had not wasted any time and found her immediately, approaching with his usual hateful gleam.
“Books in the pool room are not allowed, Mudblood. You of all swots should know that. Or are you truly as stupid as I suspect you are?” Draco’s voice was deadly and caused her heartrate to accelerate.
Not wanting to anger him further, she kept what she really wanted to say to herself. She was about to explain that Tinny had placed an impervious charm on the books but stopped herself. She realized that Tinny doing anything kind for her might anger him further, so she found herself unable to explain that the books were protected. It was in this moment she realized Draco would hardly approve of what she was reading, and she prayed he wouldn’t take a closer look.
“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t thinking.” She need not have worried, though. Draco’s eyes were only on her and were completely disinterested in the reading material
His eyebrows shot up at her subservient address and a small, victorious smile crept over his face. “I see you are finally learning your place.” He watched her as she kept her eyes on the ground.
Hermione would do her best to show as little emotion as possible, therefore giving him little to feed off and use against her. Playing a broken and spiritless victim would hopefully bore him and cause him to lose interest in tormenting her.
“Regardless, you’ll have to be punished for abuse of Malfoy property.” When she didn’t flinch or look at him, he paused. He wanted to get a rise out of her. “But first I have needs. Undress, Mudblood.”
Hermione swallowed her hatred and kept her face calm and obedient as she slipped off the sky-blue silk gown and robes, leaving her in nothing but eggshell colored stockings, two-inch, kitten heels and a pale blue bra and garter belt. As usual, she wore no knickers. His eyes raked down her body as he slipped off his robes and began to unbuckle his belt.
As Hermione stood under Draco’s assessing gaze, she felt a flicker of relief when she felt the warm rush of heat creeping up her body that alerted her to Lucius arriving home. Just knowing he was in the manor gave her a sense of protection even though she knew he wouldn’t intervene unless there were extraordinary circumstances.
Expecting a slap or a hit of some sort, or certainly an insult, she waited with bated breath as Draco began to circle her. The feel of his eyes on her skin as he continued his predatory assessment was unsettling. He stopped mere inches in front of her, his face close enough to kiss her yet he hadn’t so much as touched her. Despite her best efforts, her anxiety escalated as she felt his warm breath on her cheek. He whispered with a tone of seduction, as though they were lovers, “I’ve been on a very interesting assignment, Mudblood. An adventure that is coming to a close.” She swallowed her terror when he pressed his lips with the lightest of touches to her left cheek. She began to tremble as goosebumps washed over her arms. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see him so close. Any second now he would strike with venomous fangs.
She coached herself. Stay calm. Stay strong. She felt the brush of his fingertips over her left breast and tried to remain as still as possible despite her urge to run. His hand moved up to her face where the backs of his fingers lightly brushed first one cheek and then the other. He continued to speak in a caressing tone. “It’s an assignment I think you’ll be very interested in knowing the details of when I return…which won’t be long.” He kissed her temple delicately before taking a step back.
After a second’s pause, he asked in his normal condescending voice, “Wont that be nice? Getting back to our usual routine?” When she didn’t respond he goaded her. “I asked you a question. Answer me truthfully.”
The bond prevented her from lying. “No.”
“No?” He grinned maliciously. “You don’t think that will be nice?”
“No,” she responded with an edge to her voice.
“Well, I see you didn’t learn your place for very long. Brightest witch of your age, indeed. You forgot to call me, sir. I rather liked it when you did that a few minutes ago. You will address me as sir from now on. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent.” He took another small step away from her, yet she could feel his eyes on her face. “Only now you’ve hurt my delicate feelings, so you will not only be punished for the books, but for being rude and uncaring as well. That will come later, however.”
His eyes glazed down her body. “Hmm…decisions, decisions. Arse or cunt. Which shall it be? Both maybe?” He slipped off his outer robes and then continued in a mocking tone. “Ladies choice. Why don’t you choose. See? I can be a gentleman.”
Was this a trick? If she gave an answer would he do the opposite to spite her?
Before she could conjure a response, he impatiently answered for her. “Both, you say? My you are a needy little whore, aren’t you? Take your shoes and bra off,” he ordered as he continued to undress. When she was clad in only stockings and garter belt, he pointed to the floor in front of him. “On your knees. Suck me.”
Hermione gingerly kneeled before him and took his hardening length into her mouth. “Eyes up here,” he commanded. His hands gripped her hair and he leered at her when her brown eyes met his grey. She began moving her mouth back and forth, taking as much of him as she could. Not moving her gaze, she watched as his head fell back and his jaw fell open. He had begun thrusting his hips lightly and she prayed he wouldn’t gag her. Her prayers were answered when he flicked his wand and whispered a transfiguration charm, turning a chaise into a bed with a simple mattress. Then he pointed his wand at her pelvis and whispered another charm and she felt an odd sensation inside of her. It immediately dawned on her it was the same charm as that first night. The one that had emptied her before he buggered her.
“On the bed and on your back, now!”
She scrambled to her feet and onto the bed as quickly as possible, trying to keep her panic at bay.
His tone was conversational as he climbed on top of her and said, “Did you know that when a woman is crucio’d her body tenses up and seizes? Rodolphus says it’s exquisite to have your cock buried in a witch when that happens.”
Oh God!
He continued sliding up until he was straddling her chest. He stroked his cock and then slipped it into her mouth. Leaning forward onto his palms, he began to thrust into the warm, hot cavity. “If your teeth touch me, I’ll remove them one by one.”
Her eyes began to water as he continued pumping himself into her mouth. She gagged and strained to get air through her nose as he pressed his length into her throat. She covered her teeth with her lips as best she could to keep them from touching him and felt them go numb. Her jaw was tense and sore as he continued his oral assault. Just when she thought she might pass out from lack of air and was drenched in drool on her chin and cheeks, he abruptly pulled out. He quickly slid down her body, hooking her legs in the crook of his arms before slamming himself into her. She couldn’t help the shriek that escaped her vocal chords. It felt like her vagina had been ripped open. Don’t cry, Hermione. But it was no use. He was brutal with quick thrusts that jabbed her cervix and caused jarring pain.
“I kind of like it when you cry,” he said simply, as he watched the first tear fall. She turned her head away, her right hand slipping up and brushing away the traitorous drop of water. She tried not to let another one fall when she heard his chuckle. He shifted positions and fell back onto his knees, pulling her hips with him and spreading her legs wider. Her shoulders remained on the mattress, her back arching off his lap. He began breathing heavier as he watched himself slide in and out of her.
After a minute, he fell forward to tower over her once again, his eyes focused between them, on her chest. His breathing was heavy, and his thrusts were becoming more erratic which were two tells he was getting close to completion. He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head. His words were strained and breathless. “Your cunt feels so damn good, but it’s time to make it feel even better.” Then he did it. Clasping both her wrists in one hand, he grabbed his wand with the other and whispered, “Crucio.”
She arched and screamed as blinding pain consumed her. Every muscle tensed as each nerve ending in her body caught fire. She wanted to die, anything to make it stop. And then it was over. Her body went limp as she slowly became aware. She could hear him panting and feel his body still. She peeked up at him to discover a glazed look in his eyes. He was no longer inside her, but she could feel his ejaculate running out of her. He was still breathing heavy as he rolled off and onto his back.
“Wow. That was… that was.” He turned to her and flashed a broad smile. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
She recoiled at the brightness of his smile and wondered if he was stark raving mad as tears streamed down her cheeks and her body seized with an after tremor.
He pushed himself up and sat on the side of the bed before looking back at her and dismissively saying, “Yeah, those suck. But you were only cursed for a few seconds, they’ll pass in a minute or so.” He let out a heavy breath and then stood, whistling as he started to dress.
Hermione had known he was a monster, but what he had just done shocked her. There was no limit to his depravity. She rolled to her side, pulling her knees to her chest while trying to stymie her tears. After what felt like a couple moments, the tremors had stopped, and she was feeling alright. The pain was already a memory.
When she began to move, as though to get dressed, he gave her a stern look. “Stay! I’m not finished with you. It’s been a while since I provided the Dark Lord with a memory. Let’s give him a good one, shall we?” He began threading his belt through his trouser loops. “He has so many visitors these days. Especially now that school is out… young recruits standing by to do his bidding.” Draco stopped dressing and looked at her before continuing. “He often times shares the pensieve memories gifted to him…as a reward to his faithful followers and recruits.”
She knew he was watching her, just waiting for a reaction. She would do her best not to give him one.
“Many enjoyed watching us, not only through the mirror that first night, but re-watching it through a pensieve as well. I understand Wormtail watches it obsessively, so does Cormac McLaggen. You remember him, don’t you? He’s been hanging around hoping to be made a Death Eater.”
Hermione knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. He’s lying, Hermione. You have no way of knowing he isn’t simply trying to goad you. For all you know, that was nothing but a regular mirror that night.
“So, let’s make a new one… now. It’s always nice to provide quality wank material for the men.” He smiled broadly. “Not that what we just did won’t give them a good visual, mind you. It’s just…well, you are Hermione Granger, and you’ve proven rather popular in the porn pensieve.”
She felt sick as she thought back on all he had done to her, on the way’s he had taken her. Oh God. Her head had started to pound.
Draco gestured to the head of the bed. “Why don’t you lay back and spread your legs nice and wide. Get comfortable.”
Hermione swallowed heavily as a vicious heat of dread crept over her. No! No more! When she didn’t move, he startled her by snapping abruptly, “Now, Mudblood!” Unable to stop herself, she quickly did as he instructed.
Draco’s gaze was between her legs. “You really do have a pretty cunt. It’s only fair I let the others get a good look at it, don’t you think? I mean, since father won’t let me allow any of them to fuck you, we can certainly let them look at you!”
She couldn’t help the tear that escaped her bottom left lash, quickly followed by another.
“Have you learned how to get yourself off yet?”
Oh fuck!
“Because if not, you’re going to figure it out right now. Either way, you’re going to rub one out for all to see.”
Sheer panic overcame her, and she began to see spots. She felt lightheaded and the room began to sway around her; she didn’t realize she had started hyperventilating. She barely heard Draco snap, “Fucking hell!” before everything went dark.
When she came to, she was sopping wet. Still on the bed, with her legs splayed out awkwardly, she realized she was drenched in pool water and that Draco must have used it to wake her.
“Finally!” Draco snapped. “You passed out on me! Such a pathetic weakling, you are.”
Suddenly, white hot rage overcame her. She was in motion before she even knew what she was doing. “You sadistic arsehole!” she screeched as she bolted out of bed and leapt on him. His wand clattered to the floor and he fell backwards when her weight hit him. She heard a satisfying crunch as her fist hit his nose. Before she could land another hit, he grabbed her wrists and flung her off him. He was on her instantly and a blinding punch landed on her left cheek.
When she came to the second time, Draco was standing over her with his wand pointed at her face and his left hand cradling his bleeding nose. “Get up!” he demanded.
The room was spinning, and her head was pounding now. Somehow, she managed to stand. Her left eye was swelling shut. Knowing it was wrong, but suddenly not caring what he did to her, she spit in his face. She claimed a small victory when the blood-mottled spittle landed on his cheek.
When he wiped it away and saw the red, his face paled. Hermione could see it in his eyes – he was actually afraid of her blood! When she spat a second time, he punched her so hard she stumbled into the pool.
She breached the surface coughing and feeling as though she would pass out from the pain of his assault. The pool was deep, and she couldn’t stand, so she swam to the edge only to have him crouch before her, grab a fistful of her hair, and push her under the surface. She clutched his fingers trying to pry them out of her curls. Draco yanked her above the surface but the second she opened her mouth to take a breath, he pushed her back under causing her to breath in a combination of air and water.
When her body’s natural reflexes kicked in and she attempted to cough out the water, she merely drew more into her mouth and lungs and it was in that moment she knew she was going to die. Instantly, several thoughts flashed through her consciousness at once.
There was a part of her that wanted to go with it, to allow it to end. It was the part of her that had stood on the wrong side of the balcony and welcomed death. It welcomed oblivion. There would be no more pain, no more torture, no more assaults; she could be with Ron and Harry.
Then there was the piece of her that knew how powerful she was, and she felt obligated to continue to fight this impossible fight. If this was ever going to end, if she were to ever be free again, she had to live. She had to live in order to have even a chance to make Harry proud. She owed it to her best friend to prevail and to at least try and be happy.
Not only that … but there was the part of her that was beginning to care about Lucius Malfoy and the kindness he had shown her. This portion of her wanted to sway him to her side, to conspire with him, to bring him into the Light. It also wanted to experience the pleasure that he could bring her again and again.
Without warning, it dawned on her that if she gave up and let Draco kill her now, that Lucius would be punished for it. He had been ordered to keep her alive. She panicked, and the will to fight filled her again.
Hermione kicked her legs fiercely and continued to claw at the hands that were holding her under the surface of the water. Bubbles rose around her as she screamed her frustration, only to suck in more chlorinated liquid. Desperation mounting, she twisted and screamed a second time.
Suddenly, there was a stabbing pain in her scalp before her body felt light and Draco was no longer pushing her under the water’s surface. She grasped the edge of the pool in attempts to pull herself up as she tried to draw in a mouthful of air unsuccessfully. Her diaphragm spasmed and caused liquid to gush out of her mouth, burning her throat and nose as it made its way up and out of her chest.
When she became aware of her surroundings, she was laying by the pool and Draco was towering over her. “Next time I will kill you!” he spat.
“That’s enough, Draco! Leave!”
The second voice was a welcome one and came from behind her. She watched with exhausted eyes as Draco scowled before turning and stalking away as she lay on her side. She gasped lungfuls of air and coughed horrifically as her body seized with the effort to re-oxygenate itself. She was freezing and began to shiver violently, and her teeth were chattering. The left side of her face was on fire with pain and she realized she was entirely unable to see through her left eye. With no strength to move, she closed her eyes. Suddenly she was no longer wet and was being lifted into familiar, strong arms.
He had only been home for a few minutes at the most and he was already worried. He had taken off his cloak and boots and slipped his house shoes on before he attempted to do some paperwork but a split second later, knowing that she was with his sadistic son, he started to pace. A feeling kept clawing at the edges of his mind that he batted away over and over. A feeling that told him how he didn’t want to share her. How he wanted to keep her away from Draco. How he wanted to end the abuse his son was causing the girl in his care.
He hadn’t been able to help it when a vision of his mother came unbidden to his mind. She sat in her suite, her legs tucked under her while Tinny dabbed at her face with a cloth. Lucius, a young boy – not even ten-years-old, had entered looking for her. He had panicked at the sight of blood on the cloth the elf was using, and his mother had jumped when he cried out for the elf to stop hurting her.
It had startled him badly when he was jarred back to the present by Tinny coming to him in a panic. “Young Master is drownings the Good Witch ins the pools, Master Lucius!”
He hadn’t thought twice, he had just spun on the spot and Apparated outside the poolroom and flung the doors open with a bang. He had been just in time to witness Draco holding Hermione under the surface of the water before his son had cried out in surprise and had been magically pushed away from the edge of the pool. Lucius saw chunks of long, chestnut colored hair in both his fists as Draco flew back through the air, colliding with a pool side settee.
Hermione had heaved herself out of the water wearing only her garter belt and stockings, her mouth gaping and her body shuddering as what looked like gallons of water poured out of her mouth and nose. Her hair was clinging to her back and shoulders, around her breasts and over her face. Lucius rushed towards her as she convulsed again and again as water was expelled from her lungs. He was aware his son had risen from where the girl had thrown him with wandless magic in order to save herself. He couldn’t help the small swell of pride at her magical strength. That’s my girl! He internally scolded himself. Your girl? Maybe you are the mad one, not Draco!
She collapsed, and Lucius had sagged with relief when he heard her drag in a rattling breath before starting to cough again. It took effort not to spell his son clear across the universe when Draco had used his foot to roll her over before he growled, “Next time I will kill you!” in Hermione’s face.
“That is enough, Draco! Leave!” He hadn’t meant to say the words, but he found himself desperate to get the boy away from her.
Draco glared at him for a split second before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the other entrance to the poolroom, letting the door slam behind him.
Hermione’s face was a mess. Utterly destroyed. The bones around her left eye socket had been fractured and her eye was swollen shut. It was mottled with black and purple bruises that spread across her temple and into her hairline, over her nose, and down her cheek. The skin was broken in a few places but there was no blood because the pool had washed it away. It made Lucius feel completely sick that his son had caused this damage.
Instead of calling for the healer this time, he had asked Tinny to apparate to the school and request Snape come through. He knew the man had extensive experience with healing magic, and Healer Jacobs was becoming too suspicious of the activities happening inside the Manor. Not that the man would report anything – he knew who was running the country these days.
For some reason, however, Lucius’ gut was telling him that he needed to see Snape’s reaction to Hermione’s condition. There was something up with his friend, and he wanted to pinpoint what it was.
He had cast a mild sedative charm on Hermione and had taken her to the Mistress Suite. It wouldn’t do for Snape to ask why the girl was in Lucius’ own bed. Tinny had magicked the girl into a soft robe and spelled her hair dry before Lucius took vigil at her bedside, waiting for Snape to arrive.
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A World Not Fit To Live In