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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
- 22
- 23
- 24
AN: A little more action in this one! Let us know what you think!! Xx Lissa & Snow
Chapter Twenty-Three
BETA love: RaynePhoenix2
“Draco, my word is final,” Lucius said with exasperation, sneaking a peak out of the corner of his eye to watch as Hermione sat stoically in her chair. Her chin was raised, and her eyes were fixed at a point somewhere over his and Draco’s head. “You give Pansy your support tonight. Miss Granger will be my date,” he spat the word like it was dirty, “for the evening. I highly expect you to be celebrating your graduation and the recruitment of your classmates. I don’t believe you will stay sober enough to keep a close enough watch on Miss Granger, nor do I think that you will remain aware enough to protect her from the more … unsavory … of our brothers. I am still operating under the idea that one of us may be forced to marry and reproduce with her at some point. I do not want her touched by any other men.”
He was relieved when, instead of arguing more, Draco simply shot him an obnoxious glare and stormed out of the dining room. Uncharacteristically, Lucius slumped down in his chair before running a palm over his face, trying to smooth his frustrated expression.
“I don’t see why I have to attend at all,” Hermione stated grumpily after a moment of silence. She recoiled when Lucius leveled a glare at her. Instantly, he felt bad.
“We will discuss this later. Snape will be here for your wandless magic lesson, you are excused.” He watched with a bit of rising amusement when she pursed her lips, obviously not liking the way she was being dismissed.
“Fine,” she muttered, pushing back from her place at the high tea table and leaving in as much of a huff as his son had a few minutes prior.
Two hours later, Snape and Lucius were preparing for the evening’s events in Lucius suite. Their charges doing the same with Tinny in the Mistresses room.
“Severus,” Lucius began after many minutes of silence as the men straightened their dress robes and tied back their long hair.
“Yes?” Snape answered when the silence had gone on a bit longer than was necessary. He realized his friend was stalling.
“What are your plans with Miss Weasley tonight? How do you intend to…” He trailed off.
“Protect her?” Snape raised a brow when Lucius let out a huff before scanning the portraits around the room. He wasn’t surprised to not find Abraxas in attendance. The Dark Lord was already on the premises, preparing for the evening in a set of chambers reserved for him – far on the other side of the Manor.
“Yes, protect her,” he answered finally before striding to his sideboard and pulling the stopper out of a crystal decanter of aged scotch. He poured himself and Snape a glass.
“She has been commanded to talk to no one outside of Hermione and any other slave women she recognizes and that she is to return to me if anyone makes her uncomfortable. If she is somehow restrained and unable to come to me, I have commanded that my bond will be triggered so I know to seek her out. I have a tracking charm on her.”
Lucius froze in his act of handing the Headmaster a tumbler of the amber liquid. “You’re bloody brilliant,” he said in a rare moment of candidness. “You know that, right?”
Snape took the glass from his friend with a slight smirk. “I do,” he said with no modesty. “How are you keeping Miss Granger away from Draco tonight? Or are you not?” Snape asked after taking a swallow of the smooth drink.
Lucius settled himself into a chair near the fire, gesturing for Snape to take the other while they waited for their witches to be ready. “I’ve trumped Draco’s commands for the evening by forbidding her to follow any of his directive for twenty-four hours. He satisfied the bond this morning, so he’ll be perfectly fine. I will have a few moments of privacy with her before we head to the ballroom and give her the same directives you gave Miss Weasley.”
Ginny watched Hermione carefully as the little elf, Tinny, weaved an updo into the older witch’s hair. “So,” she started carefully, before remembering to glance around the room to see if Abraxas Malfoy was present in any of the portraits as Hermione warned her to. “Tell me more about Lucius Malfoy.”
She giggled as Hermione tried to make her face more impassive. “You don’t have to hide it from me, Hermione,” she teased. “I can tell by the way you look at him that you’re totally infatuated.”
Hermione scoffed a little but wasn’t able to move her head for fear of messing up the elf’s work. “I don’t know if infatuated is the right word, Gin. More like – utterly dependent upon him.”
Ginny’s expression sobered. She sometimes had a hard time remembering how completely lucky she was that Snape was her bond-mate. She was well aware that Hermione suffered greatly under Draco’s hands, but she also could tell by the way Hermione gravitated towards and looked at Lucius that her friend was smitten with the other Malfoy. Perhaps she was even as in love with him as Ginny herself was with Snape.
“I think it’s more than that,” Ginny answered honestly.
“Even if it was,” Hermione stated. “What would it matter? It’s not like I’m going to be allowed to – what? Fall in love with him? Marry him? Have his babies?” Her voice was cool and sardonic, and Ginny felt herself wanting to bristle. She had to remind herself again that Hermione’s lot had been much, much worse than hers. Before she could speak, Hermione continued. “Lucius and I have an understanding, Ginny. He protects me the best he can, and I behave well enough not to invoke too much ire from Draco.”
“What do you mean ‘too much ire’?” Ginny asked hesitantly as a feeling of ice water being dumped on her rippled over her body.
“What has Snape told you?” Hermione questioned. She turned to face her friend when Tinny patted her head as a signal she was done with Hermione’s hair.
“Not much, really,” Ginny shrugged. “He just keeps promising me that you’re okay.”
“He’s right…I’m okay.” Hermione huffed, feeling a mix of sadness and anger in her. “That’s about as positive as my current life situation gets.”
“What…what happened? Since the Defeat at Hogwarts.”
“I can’t talk about this right now, Ginny. I’m too nervous,” Hermione stood and moved to the balcony doors. She paused briefly before pulling them open. The cool evening air hit her face and her shoulders slumped.
Ginny stood to move next to her friend. Maybe if she offered some information, Hermione would open up more. “Severus has been very good to me,” Ginny whispered as she wound her arm through one of Hermione’s. It worked. She felt the older girl relax and smiled back when Hermione sent her a knowing smirk.
“Very good to you?” she teased, and Ginny laughed.
“Even in the beginning, though,” she murmured. “I mean…he raped me, but he didn’t have much choice, did he? If he hadn’t complied with Who-Know-Who’s orders – we’d probably both be dead.”
“Yes, Lucius was the same,” Hermione agreed. “He was gentle – as gentle as one could be when taking someone’s virginity, I guess.”
Ginny gasped in horror and a hand came up to cover her mouth. “You…you were a virgin?”
Hermione glanced at Ginny with a bit of amusement in her eyes. “Who do you think I would have lost my virginity to while fighting the Dark Lord?” Both girls froze in shock at the ease in which Hermione had respectfully titled Voldemort.
“I’m sorry – it’s just…Lucius and Malfoy both call him that, I suppose I’ve just picked up on it,” Hermione tried to explain.
“I know, I know,” Ginny whispered. “I call him that in my head sometimes just because Severus…” She trailed off.
Hermione took the moment to steer the conversation in a lighter direction. “Severus…huh?”
Ginny blushed. “Yes, Severus.”
“He’s very different from how he was when we were in school,” Hermione’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. “He’s fun to pick on.”
Ginny snorted. “Maybe for you – if I get snarky with him, my arse ends up bright red.”
Hermione paused, her eyes widening in surprise at the candid information. “Wha –?”
“The Master and Headmaster Snape is coming, now,” Tinny announced suddenly, breaking Hermione off.
Ginny was snickering into her hand and Hermione hissed with a giggle, “You’ll tell me more, later. I mean it!”
“Sure, Hermione.”
Hermione watched with some amusement as Snape’s eyes widened a bit when he spotted Ginny. The redhead had been Tinny’s focus at the beginning because she and Snape were going to wait in the drawing room for the party to start before taking the floo to the Ballroom and enter like all the rest of the guests. Her friend looked gorgeous in a fitted, midnight blue gown with her red hair up in an elegant French twist and, for a split second, it was obvious that Snape was stunned by her beauty. Then his face shuttered and his normal, bored façade took over. Hermione almost snorted her amusement.
Hermione was still in her robe, hair barely done, and with no trace of make-up on her face. She watched her professor and friend leave before turning to Lucius.
Hermione stared at her reflection as she pondered the night ahead. To say she was dreading the evening was a gross understatement. After Snape and Ginny had left them, she had begged Lucius to let her skip the graduation party, but the wretched man had refused. He insisted she would need to be by his side (and therefore under his protection) as there would be hundreds of Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters attending. She suggested he simply ward the bedroom suite from visitors, but Lucius gently warned her that drunk Death Eaters could be persistent and hiding her away would only make her all that more interesting to them, especially to the more envious and competitive types who constantly wanted what others had. They might even try to get the Dark Lord involved.
She had continued to plead. “Tell them I’m sick! Tell them whatever that clever mind of yours comes up with! Only don’t make me go, Lucius! Please!”
The thought of seeing the classmates whom had looked down on her at school, the fellow students who would take joy in seeing her as nothing more than a sexual slave, was unbearable. They had won. She had lost. Must she endure their gloating as she knew for certain they would? To top off her humiliation, many had likely seen Draco’s pensieve memories of her being raped. Her stomach roiled at the thought of Cormac McLaggen. According to Draco, the Gryffindor had watched them repeatedly. The thought of having to face her former house mate was mortifying.
She looked up into the stormy eyes of her protector and lover. Her last attempt to sway him was spoken with a tremulous and almost choked cry, “Please, Lucius!”
“No,” he had snapped, his patience having run its course. “I have explained it is for your own good. You will stay by my side and be subservient. You will answer when spoken to; you will be polite and show mild interest in the goings on around you.”
Her frustration and dread turned to fury as she snapped right back at him, “Well, I see that you are back to ordering me around!”
“Only because you are arguing when you should be mentally preparing! Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think it’s easy for me?”
Hermione stared at him. What was he saying? She let out a slow breath as hope blossomed in her chest. “What are you talking about? What do you not enjoy, Lucius?” She couldn’t help it as her voice began to rise. “Is this not exactly what you want? Entertaining your Master and fellow cronies? Ramping up the troops to do your Lord’s bidding? One step closer to Muggle annihilation?”
“Of course not!” Lucius bellowed. His face was red with rage and his hands were balled into fists at his side. “I hate this! I hate what –” He abruptly stopped speaking and looked about the suite. His relief was palpable when no portraits were occupied. His steel eyes shot back to hers.
Their lips said nothing, but their eyes spoke volumes.
Hermione practically held her breath, willing him to finish his sentence. Her voice was soft, just above a whisper. “What, Lucius? What do you hate?” She prayed he would tell her he no longer supported his disgusting Lord. She was desperate to hear the words. Everything would change. Everything!
Lucius stood paralyzed. It was all on the tip of his tongue, but how could he admit he no longer trusted or supported the Dark Lord? He could barely admit it to himself, how could he possibly admit it to this angel? This darling girl who would expect him to act and expect him to fight! He couldn’t bear to hate himself any more than he already did and looking into her disappointed gaze on a daily basis would be his undoing. No. It was simply preposterous. Resisting the Dark Lord was tantamount to falling on his own sword. He would lose everything! His son, his home, his friends…her.
She saw it all on his face. The internal battle. She didn’t know exactly what the conflict was, but he was fighting himself. Her hope faded, and her heart fell as his elegantly manicured fingers reached up to latch the emerald studded clasp of his formal robes. It was like shutters had simply closed over his features. His face was the picture of calm and his voice was controlled as all evidence of his anger and inner turmoil vanished. “It would be best if you finished getting ready now. The guests will be arriving in thirty minutes. I will come back to retrieve you.”
It had been just over twenty minutes and Hermione was as ready as she was going to be. Her gown was pretty, elegant even. Lucius had instructed Tinny that Hermione was to look beautiful, but not like the mistress of the house. She was not Lucius’ wife and should not be dressed as such. Her gown should befit her circumstance. Lucius had explained it was for appearances sake. If she arrived in all the splendor and adornments of a Malfoy wife tongues would wag, and Lucius’ goal was to draw as little attention to Hermione as possible.
So, there she stood in an emerald-green, silk gown that hugged her curves and looked more like a sexy nightgown than a dress. It was very simple without lace or trimmings. It was sleeveless and backless, and the V-neck dipped low, offering a peek at the sides of her breasts. The fabric hugged her waist and hips and there was a slit up the side that came all the way to the top of her right thigh. The material was charmed to cling and move with her which accentuated her subtle curves. Meanwhile, the matching four-inch heels gave her such height she appeared lean and sleek. She looked like she was made for fucking and it occurred to her that this was what Lucius had meant when he said a ‘gown to befit her circumstance’. Her hair was in a loose chignon and tendrils of chestnut locks escaped to lightly caressed her neck.
Hermione startled when Tinny popped in behind her with a velvet jewelry box. Her jaw slackened when Tinny stepped bedside her and lifted the lid to reveal pearls. Not just any pearls. These were creamy white and perfectly shaped south sea pearls. The earrings were elegant and substantial with the largest pearl at the top; a total of five in descending size cascaded and fell to just above the tendons where her neck met her shoulders. They framed her delicate features magnificently.
Hermione was used to the Malfoy wealth for the most part, but every now and then something would strike her, and this was one of those times. The necklace was absolutely stunning. It was triple stringed; one acted as a choker, another as a matinee length, and the last, opera. They were heavy, and the longest string draped between her breasts. The matching bracelet topped off the look and suddenly she didn’t just look like a sex kitten in a silk dress, she looked like a sex vixen and it made all the difference in the world. She felt beautiful and desirable. It gave her a power she didn’t realize she was craving and it made the night seem just a little bit less daunting.
She was touching up her dark, cherry lipstick when she heard the light knock on the door. She peeked behind her via the mirror to see Lucius’ stunned orbs at the sight of her.
“Turn around,” he breathlessly commanded. For some reason Hermione didn’t mind being ordered at this particular moment; she spun lightly to face him and peeked up into eyes that were stormy with lust as they cascaded up and down her lithe form. After a minute of obvious admiration, he offered her a playful smile. “You would bring Aphrodite to her knees with envy, princess.”
This was her favorite Lucius. Sweet and flirtatious. Despite their argument, despite him not saying the words she had been desperate to hear, she found that in this moment she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he was looking at her. She almost laughed as a line from one her favorite movies as a little girl came to mind. It was all she could do to stop the words from tumbling from her lips as they spun in her brain. Tell me about it, stud.
“What’s so funny?” he asked when she suddenly giggled.
“Nothing, I’m just reminded of a scene from a movie that I used to love.”
His head tilted inquisitively. “Movie?”
“I’ll explain it another time.”
He peeked at his pocket watch. “Hmm, yes. We need to head down.”
Hermione took a deep breath and followed as he led the way and began reminding her of his earlier instructions. When they reached the top of the grand stairs, where the four main hallways from each wing converged, he added “Remember, stay by my side unless I tell you otherwise. Draco has a date, so he should leave you alone for the most part.” He stopped and looked back at her, the regret on his face matched his whispered words. “Please, don’t believe anything I tell anyone about us…about you. Only you know how I really feel.”
Hermione smiled lightly and nodded. “I understand. I’m hoping to tune it all out anyway.”
She took a step to head down the staircase but paused when she noticed he hadn’t moved. She glanced up to find he looked vulnerable; his eyes had gone soft and he had a slight flush to his cheeks. She tilted her head enquiringly.
He looked to his left and right before grabbing her hand and pulling her into a room to the right of the stairs. It was dark, and the unused room was cool which caused gooseflesh to rise on her arms. He pulled her close, instantly rendering her warm as his hands ghosted along the silky, bare skin of her back. His nose and lips dipped to her neck and trailed lightly to her cheek as he inhaled her scent. His lips tenderly stroked hers before he pulled back and allowed his nose to tap her own. It was such a sweet and innocent display of affection that Hermione’s stomach dropped.
Her hands reached up and cradled his face. “Lucius, is everything okay?”
His words almost sounded desperate in their need to be heard but came out so soft and rushed she almost didn’t hear him…almost. “I don’t want to take you down there. I would spare you all the pain and sorrow in the world if I only could. The truth is I…I…” His forehead rested on hers and she found her heart was practically pounding in her chest.
I what? Her imagination was racing ahead as the possible responses to that question came to mind. Was he trying to say what she suddenly wished he would?
Lucius righted himself and stepped back, once again in control. He reached his hand out and took hers. “Let’s head down and hope this night goes quickly.”
Hermione simply nodded, her head still reeling with his unspoken words. After a moment her common sense returned, and she understood her imagination had run away with her.
She felt foolish for thinking he had been about to say such a thing. She felt pathetic for wishing he had and confused as to why she felt that way.
Hermione and Lucius entered the ballroom to find Draco and Pansy had just arrived.
“I see you made it in the nick of time, Draco,” Lucius scolded lightly. The patriarch then addressed Draco’s date. “Ahh, Miss Parkinson. Pretty as the flower whose name you bear,” he offered with a small bow.
“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” Pansy replied distractedly. Hermione, whose eyes were downcast, could feel Pansy’s stare.
“Pansy, you remember our Mudblood, Hermione Granger, don’t you?” Draco asked.
Pansy’s voice was as nasal and irritating as it had ever been. “Yes. Hello, Granger.”
Hermione was about to respond and take the high road by complementing Pansy’s dress, but what does one say when someone’s dress makes them look like a goth marshmallow? She was about to open her mouth when Draco sneered, “Respond, Mudblood.”
“Hello, Pansy. Congratulations on graduating.” It was painful to say the words, but she refused to let anyone to see her resentment.
Pansy puffed herself up and pressed into Draco’s side. It was obvious the witch was staking her claim when she responded in a haughty tone, “It won’t be too much longer before you’ll be congratulating me, and Draco as well I dare say, for something far more interesting than graduating.” She batted her eyelashes up at Draco. “Isn’t that right, love?”
Hermione felt Lucius stiffen next to her. “Draco? Is there something you wish to tell me?”
“Nothing of consequence, Father,” Draco responded before looking down at Pansy in a placating way. “Eventually, Pansy. Let’s not put the cart before the thestral.”
“But you said…”
“Hush, now. I told you. Don’t pressure me.”
Pansy looked dumbstruck and Hermione actually felt a tiny bit sorry for the stupid girl. Honestly! Who would want to marry such a prick? In truth, Hermione doubted Pansy really knew this monster she thought she was in love with. That part of Hermione that always wanted to console and to take care of others spoke up, “Your hair looks lovely, Pansy.”
“You will address my girlfriend with the respect she deserves, Mudblood. She is Miss Parkinson to you.”
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes when the vapid girl looked up at Draco adoringly. The witch had no clue that the statement’s intent had nothing to do with her and everything to do with making Hermione miserable. He went on to say, “If at any time you notice her or my drink is less than half full, you will rectify that immediately.”
Lucius cleared his throat gently. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Granger. Did you forget, Draco? You and Miss Parkinson have Bilby assigned to you for the evening. He will be seeing to both of your needs,” Lucius continued conversationally with a touch of pride. “It’s not every day a wizard’s son graduates from Hogwarts. Tonight, each graduate and his or her date will have a house elf assigned to meet his or her every need.” Just then the floo activated and Lucius added, “Ahh, the guests are arriving.”
An hour later the party in the ballroom was in full swing. The liquor was flowing and the jubilation in the atmosphere was practically manic. There were those celebrating graduation and there were those celebrating that they had been chosen and would be receiving the Mark tonight. Then there were the few whom were celebrating both; Blaise Zabini, Zacharias Smith, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Daphne Greengrass.
Hermione had done as Lucius said. She stayed close and she stayed quiet. She found if she focused on the floor and didn’t look at the faces around her the situation was more tolerable. She let herself become immersed in trivial facts; so far there had been one hundred seventy-seven pairs of black shoes. Out of one hundred fifty-two men’s shoes, only seventy-three had been lace up. Most women’s shoes were charmed to match the color of their dresses.
She became irritated whenever someone distracted her from her counting by actually speaking to her. Fortunately, it had only happened a few times and three of the distractions were welcome ones; Ginny and Snape and then Theo.
Unfortunately, Hermione did not get to spend much time with Ginny as Snape kept the redhead close. The Headmaster’s attentions were much demanded upon by parents and Hermione was reminded of the delicate tight rope that man traversed daily.
As she took one of her rare glances about the room, Hermione noticed Theo had Millicent Bulstrode on his arm. Only this was a Millicent Hermione hardly recognized. The witch had grown about two inches and lost about two stone. She was still curvy and had some extra weight on her, but it suited her, and she looked quite beautiful in Hermione’s opinion. It was obvious Theo was quite smitten with her by the way he doted on the witch.
Her attention was pulled from the couple when a soft voice to her left spoke just above a whisper. “Hi, Hermione.”
“Lavender!!” Hermione squealed. Unable to resist, she pulled the witch into a tight hug.
The gentle clearing of the throat to her right reminded her to keep her enthusiasm in check. When Theodros Nott and Lucius fell into conversation about their sons, Hermione chanced a good look at her former roommate. The blonde looked beautiful despite a few scars to her cheek and neck.
Hermione kept her voice low and calm so as to draw little attention. “I’m so happy to see you! You look well.”
Lavender smiled warmly. “You too, Hermione! You look amazing.” Her eyes darted around nervously before she whispered, “Are you…okay?”
Hermione nodded. “I’m alive and I’m learning to adapt. Things could be much worse.”
Lavender nodded. “Yes. Same.” Suddenly, Lavender’s heel slipped out from under her and she fell to the floor. “Oh me. I’m so clumsy in these heels.” Lavender grabbed Hermione’s leg under her dress as she attempted to stand. Hermione could feel the slide of a piece of paper being tucked into her shoe. It happened very quickly and when Hermione reached down to pull her friend up, their knowing eyes met.
Lavender kept her head down and peeked about the room from under her lashes in an embarrassed fashion. Hermione chanced a glance as well and found that, other than a few curious glances, no one seemed too bothered that the girl had fallen.
“Come stand by me, pet,” Theodros commanded. “You can’t even be trusted to stand without my constant oversight.”
Lavender quickly complied, but Hermione didn’t miss the tender way the man touched her arm when she was next to him. Hermione was unsure if Lucius noticed, but felt certain he did not, given how the men were positioned. The two couples were strategically standing in a corner leaving them free from visual assaults on two out of four sides.
Hermione was desperate to know what was in the note but felt certain it was from Theo. She had to wonder which side Theodros was on as well.
This caused her thoughts to wander to Lucius. She felt certain he was unhappy with his servitude to Voldemort. That didn’t mean he was ready to jump ship, however, and she could understand why he would never voice that change of heart out loud. If only there was a way she could let him know he wasn’t alone. It was an impossible situation.
There was a hush over the crowd and all eyes were on the heavily robed creature that slithered in from another room. Not only did the entire ballroom go quiet but there was a vibe of terror as well. She could practically smell the fear permeate the space.
The despot said nothing as his red eyes gazed mercilessly about the room. It was Bellatrix who spoke on his behalf. “His Lordship wishes to congratulate the Graduates. He is also ready to receive offerings of servitude from those of you who feel you are worthy. I shall escort you into the receiving room one at a time.”
Theodros and Lavender stepped further into the room and Hermione couldn’t resist the jab. “Hmm. Such a loquacious Lord you serve, Lucius,” Hermione whispered. “I can see the appeal,” she added sarcastically.
“You have no idea,” Lucius whispered in response. “Remind me to show you a memory sometime.”
Hermione wondered what the motivations were of the twenty-five or so individuals who were making their way towards Bellatrix. What could possibly be the draw? Peer pressure, perhaps? Fear? She was relieved to see that Theo was not amongst them.
Gregory Goyle stood paralyzed with fear. He didn’t want to do this. There was nothing about this monster that Greg respected. Of course, absolutely no one knew that he felt this way - not his friends and certainly not his father. So here he was, waiting to pledge his life and loyalty to a man he feared.
Greg didn’t care about blood purity; he cared about living to the next day. He wanted to move along with his life and be respected in the process. He cared about his friends and the cute little American witch, Lexie, who had transferred into Hogwarts for her senior year. Greg was completely head over heels for the blonde beauty with the adorable Texan accent. Of course, she had no idea. She didn’t even know he existed for all Greg knew, but the minute he saw her get sorted into Hufflepuff he knew she was the witch for him. He had tried to work up the courage to talk to her, but Greg knew that conversation wasn’t one of his strong suits.
His hope was to take the Mark and pledge his allegiance and then go home. Go home to the beef stroganoff his mother made for him. Then maybe tomorrow he would try to figure out a way to casually bump into the witch of his dreams. Maybe she was okay with a burly guy who didn’t talk a lot. Maybe she would be someone he could finally be himself around. He could admit to wanting to be a chef. He could share his love of food and cook for her. He would speak to her with a culinary language.
He ran his sweaty palms along his dress robes. One more to go. One more and then he was up. He watched as Cormac walked out of the receiving room. The blond boy looked dazed and was holding his arm tenderly. Greg watched as Death Eaters approached the newly sworn servant and patted him on the back. Shots of firewhisky were tossed back and with a wink-wink, Cormac was offered a cute blonde by Rodolphus. “She’s a nice little lay this one. Enjoy!” Cormac was obviously thrilled with his prize and was quick to pull the girl into another room.
Greg wasn’t sure, but he thought the girl was another American. A Muggleborn by the name of Lizzie. Draco had mentioned how hot she was and that Rodolphus had let him have a couple tumbles with her. Maybe he would get a turn with her too? He felt his stomach go sour. He really didn’t want a girl who didn’t want to be with him. He had partaken of only a couple of the girls the Dark Lord had offered Slytherin. He didn’t really see the appeal of being with a girl who didn’t want to be with him. The first girl he had taken had been doused with a lust potion, only he didn’t know it. The joke had been on him. He thought the girl was genuinely lusting after him and it had been an amazing lay. When it was all over, he was laughed at when he boasted about how much the chit craved his junk. He lost his taste for the gifted girls after that. When he partook, it was only to save face and fit in.
He looked up as Zacharias Smith walked out. The boy was congratulated and applauded just as Cormac had been.
This was it. He was up. Bellatrix would be coming any minute. He glanced back into the proud eyes of his father and swallowed heavily. He really didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to be alone with that disgusting thing.
He followed Bellatrix when she came for him. The room he was led into was a study with a very large hearth. It felt hot from the raging fire but the half-man, half-snake on the wingback chair was wrapped up in cloaks as though it were freezing. The large python that Greg had heard so much about was coiled around the base of the chair. Its head came up and its tongue darted out towards Greg as though it wanted to get a taste of him.
The voice was raspy and high pitched. It made Greg cringe. “You look frightened, boy.”
Greg didn’t speak. He couldn’t if he tried. Suddenly, he just wanted to leave.
“You are here to offer your pledge, yet I see a scared little boy who still needs his mother.” Greg could feel sweat forming on his brow. “What do you think, Nagini?”
The Slytherin was frozen with fear when the huge snake began to glide towards him.
“Tell me, young Goyle, what is it you have to offer Lord Voldemort?”
Greg’s feet shifted nervously as the snake began to slither around him. “I…I can...”
“Look at me, boy.”
Greg looked up into piercing red eyes and instantly there was pain. His head felt as though it were going to explode as the powerful wizard before him invaded his mind. He was completely unprepared for the assault and was terrified as every thought and every experience was at this monster’s perusal. Greg saw what he saw. His genuine mistrust of the megalomaniac as well as his extreme fear. His dislike of violence and his tolerance of Muggleborns. His disinterest in blood purity. His desire to run away and be a chef.
He fell to floor when his mind was his own again and a scream escaped when the curse was thrown his way.
The voice was loud and strong, and the creature’s robes fell as it abruptly stood and approached. “Who are you to come with these traitorous thoughts?!”
Greg was barely aware of his surroundings as the pain was all he could process at this time. It was too much. Fire burned his skin, knives filleted his flesh, and forks gauged his eyes. He heard screaming but wasn’t aware it was his own voice. He just wanted it to stop. Death. He would choose death over this.
“Wish granted.”
Then there was nothing.
XXXXXXXX
Lucius waited patiently as the Dark Lord met with the recruits whom were pledging fealty. He could sense Hermione’s unease at his side, but for the most part the evening had gone well. With all the celebrations going on, Hermione was not drawing attention other than several lusty stares. Lucius had received many offers for a turn with her, including offers of Galleons. She had no reason to worry on that accord, Lucius would never share her - she was his.
The crowd grew uneasy when screams could be heard from the study. When Bellatrix came to retrieve Gregory Goyle senior it was assumed the younger Goyle’s pledge had been refused. When Gregory exited carrying the body of his son, you could have heard a feather drop. The crowd parted allowing the stoic faced man the space he needed to maneuver through.
Lucius followed with Hermione on his heels. “Gregory, go through’s the floo. I will levitate him through behind you.”
The older Goyle was shell shocked and merely nodded as he relinquished his boy to Lucius before grabbing some floo powder and calling out “Goyle Cottage.”
Lucius looked down at Hermione’s contemplative but sad face. “Toss some powder into the floo.” She complied as only the bond would allow, and Lucius levitated the lad into the floo before calling out the destination. When the boy was gone, he heard Hermione let out a sob.
Her voice was low and trembling. “I never liked him, he was a bully and he was mean, but he didn’t deserve to die. I feel sick.” She looked up at him accusingly. “How can you bear it? He was your son’s classmate!”
Both of their attentions were drawn to the figures of Draco and Pansy as they quickly approached. Pansy had tears in her eyes.
Draco’s tone was one of irritation. “Fool. He had no business trying to swear allegiance. He was weak.”
“Draco!” Pansy scolded. “He was your friend!”
Draco shrugged. “Well, he’s not anymore.”
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A World Not Fit To Live In