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A World Not Fit To Live In	By : snowblind12 & Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 78125 -:- 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
- 33
- 34
- 35
AN: All those warnings from the very first chapter – do you remember them?
Yes?
Good.
They apply here.
A shout out to Bex-Chan for a bit of inspiration in this chapter.
Chapter Thirty-Four
BETA love – RaynePhoenix2
Hermione was on edge, her body taut with tension. She had been since arriving home with Lucius the night before. Draco had been waiting for them in the dining room with a horrible, dark look on his face. He had said nothing throughout dinner, and Hermione had not missed the anxious glances her afternoon lover kept sending her way. They both knew she was in trouble.
However, it was the next morning already and Draco had yet to punish her. She knew it must be some sort of mental game he was trying to play. It was working fabulously.
They had gone through their normal morning routine of her bathing him, but he had not laid a finger on her in anger or lust. He now had her set up in the dining room, all the silver from their engagement party night spread before her to polish and clean. She predicted this task the night of the engagement celebration, and it was hardly a had punishment in her eyes. After all, she’d polish silver for a week if she could have an afternoon like that with Lucius again. Maybe Draco was finally going soft?
She gasped softly as the knife she was absent mindedly rubbing with a rag left a neat, clean line of blood along her thumb. Instantly, she popped the offending digit in her mouth.
“For fucks sake!” Draco roared.
Hermione jumped, she hadn’t even realized he was in the room with her, let alone standing so very close. She ducked her head and kept her eyes down. “I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident.”
“You got blood on my many-times-great-grandmother’s flatware set!” he snapped, grabbing the hand with the bleeding thumb to inspect. “Your dirty, disgusting muddy blood!”
Hermione had no idea what possessed her to do what she did next. With an angry mewl, she used the opposite hand that Draco was holding to snatch his wrist and ripped the first hand away and snatched up the knife she had dropped when she’d cut herself. Before either of them could react to her fast movement, she had made a shallow cut on the top of his forearm and a bright red line of blood bloomed from his skin.
“My blood is the same fucking color as yours, you bloody-fucking-ferret!” she all but shrieked at him. “What the fucking fuck is wrong with you?!” She shoved her bleeding thumb against the cut on his forearm, smearing the crimson liquids together. She felt triumphant when the blood mingled, and you could not tell whose was whose.
She looked up into his eyes, hoping beyond hope that he would finally – finally – come to his senses. When her gaze clashed with his, however, her body stiffened in absolute fear. Lucius is not here! She panicked as his evil, murderous gaze took in her face. What were you thinking? There’s no one here to help you!
She whimpered pitifully when Draco slowly removed her grasp from his arm and took her shoulders between his palms. “You are going to regret that. Even more than you’ll regret not being home at a reasonable hour yesterday, Mudblood.” His voice was deadly calm, and a trickle of terror slid down her spine.
“I’m sorry!” she gasped as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Save it – you’ll be punished whether or not you apologize,” he snapped in her face. She flinched back but was thrown off kilter as he spun her and shoved her forward. “Walk, you little bitch. Your old room – that’s where you’re going.”
She was trembling violently, but the bond forced her to move. She wrung her hands together, mindless of the blood still dripping from her thumb. Tinny! she thought wildly. Tinny will know – she’ll get help. You’ll be okay, Hermione. You’re pregnant! Voldemort wants this child. It will be no worse then what you’ve endured at his hands before!
This felt different though – menacingly so. She had crossed some invisible line. Her gut said he cared not one wit about the babe in her belly. He would kill her for her transgressions…or at least beat her to the brink of death, regardless as to whether or not it would cause a miscarriage.
She couldn’t help the gasps of anxiety that were starting as she pushed through the door to her first bedchamber at Malfoy Manor. What she found in the room, however, made her scream and bolt into action.
“Mum! Oh, my gods! Mummy!” she bolted across the room, only to be hit with a tripping jinx that caused her to sprawl on the floor.
She landed on her face and pain unlike she had ever known before sliced through her jaw as it became dislocated.
“There will be no helping Mummy-Mudblood, Granger.” Draco’s voice sounded demonic and Hermione squeaked and rolled, wanting her eyes on him. They couldn’t focus though, the sight of her mother strung from the ceiling by her wrists – naked, bloody, and bruised – kept all her attention.
“No, no, no!” Hermione’s scream came out muffled because of the odd angle of her jaw that caused the lower teeth on the right side of her mandible to overlap the upper. It was hard to enunciate and get the words out, but she did the best she could. “Please! Please, sir. Let Tinny take her away! She’s done nothing – this was my mistake! I will do whatever you want, submit to whatever you want. Please, sir!”
“What?” Draco started laughing – a terrible, unpleasant guffaw. “What did you say?”
Hermione did the only thing she could think of, she grasped under her chin in both hands and snapped it back into place with a resounding crack! of bone on bone. It was so loud and painful sounding that even Draco winced before she could shriek her agony. She repeated her earlier statement, taking a bit of solace in Draco’s wide eyes of surprise that she had reset her own jaw bone.
“No.” It was said simply when she had finished the second time. “I think not. In fact – I think you’ll just be joining her.”
He pointed his wand at her, and her arms shot straight up in the air until she was lifted onto the very tips of her big toes. It pulled her shoulders and she gasped and groaned with the discomfort of it. He flicked his wand, causing her to be dragged across the room so she was only a few paces away from Jane, who was obviously unconscious.
Hermione grit her teeth and ignored the ache in her jaw as Draco flicked his wand yet again, rendering her completely nude and totally at his mercy.
She watched him with wary eyes as he completed another wand movement, this one she knew. He accio’d something from across the room, causing it to sail into the open palm of his non-wand hand. Then he gave her a menacing grin and adjusted an obvious erection. Hermione couldn’t help the gag when her stomach twisted because of the lewd gesture.
He held up a flat wooden paddle that was long and almost looked like a short boat oar. “I think ten with this as a starting point? That will serve as your penance for the little stunt you just pulled in the dining room. Then we’ll really get to the meat and potatoes of this.
“As you can see, I started on your mother much earlier this morning. Her condition is your fault. I don’t know exactly what happened yesterday, but I do know you’ll never be allowed to leave Malfoy Manor again.”
Hermione found herself utterly confused, she felt her brow crinkle even as she attempted to disassociate from the pain in her wrists. “What are you talking about? I did nothing wrong, yesterday!”
That was a lie and, even though it didn’t sound like a lie, they both knew she wasn’t telling the truth.
“Ah-ah-ah, try again, Granger!” The paddle came down on her arse hard. The shock of it reverberated up her spine and down her legs. It stole her breath absolutely and she screamed, never having felt anything like it in her life. The fire that followed the blow caused her to twist and gasp as instant tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
He didn’t let her collect herself as he continued. “You came back from Hogwarts happy yesterday, Mudblood. I want to know why. What on Earth do you have to be happy about? Especially when your misery is all that matters to me.”
Hermione bit her lip, refusing to answer. She braced for the blow the moment she saw his face twist into a disgusted smirk of amusement.
“I can do this all day.” The paddle landed across her arse again and the same pain bloomed, only this time it was a little hotter and a little deeper. She screamed between clenched teeth. The next blow came down harder than the last two and caused her to choke on her own gasping wail, which then made her cough and sputter.
“I can make this easier, I could just order you to tell me!” He landed another blow, and then a fifth. Each elicited more strangled cries to rip out of her. She was sobbing incoherently after the sixth and he seemed to take mercy on her, allowing her to catch her breath. When her breathing slowed, she became aware of him muttering, only she wasn’t able to make out what he was saying over the ringing of adrenalin in her ears.
She gave up trying when a moment later, he got right into her face. When they were nose to nose, he barked, “Why were you so pleased yesterday, Mudblood? Why were you so cocky this morning that you felt you could put your hands on me and draw blood?” Hermione felt panic rise in her throat. She had to protect the Order…he couldn’t know about Harry. He couldn’t.
Desperately she whispered, “Malfoy, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this. I didn’t do anything of any consequence yesterday. It was just a goo–”
“Tell me the truth!!” He was so furious that his eyes bulged, and spittle flew from his mouth. He rounded her and the seventh blow landed across the swell of her flanks, she screamed and screamed, gasped, and screamed again. The agony did not dissipate, it just spread.
“Okay!” she panted through a sob when she could think again. “Okay! Yes – I was happy yesterday. Your father was with me, he was affectionate. I’ve missed his kindness, and he wanted to fuck me. I let him; it was amazing. He’s a wonderful lover!”
Draco’s eyes blazed with anger and he spun away from her. Hermione found herself confused when she heard him arguing with himself again. It was an obvious quarrel, even if she couldn’t hear the words. She cowered when he turned back to her. His face was pinched and red, and his eyes were unfocused.
“You let another man fuck you? Even though you are mine?” His voice could have frozen fire and Hermione gasped as his hand came up to wrap around her neck, cutting off her air supply.
Mucus and tears were all over her chin and cheeks and her nose and eyes were running. She felt her face go ruddy and knew her eyes were bulging. She hadn’t had a good breath to begin with and her lungs started burning quickly. Finally…finally…he released her. She sputtered and gasped while he scolded her with furious questions.
“You let my father fuck you? I knew he craved you; I knew he lusted after you, but I didn’t know that he would touch you when I specifically told him not to. You will suffer for your sins. He will suffer for his soft spot for you. Let’s continue so he can see what angering me does to you.” He circled her as he monologued before he slammed the paddle into her upper thighs. She continued to blubber and try to breathe.
“Why would you let him touch you?” The blow had landed across new skin and her scream was silent as she writhed yet again. She was sure she was going to suffocate from her own tortured inhalation when her chest finally caved, and she was able to suck in a breath around a strangled scream – or was it a sob? She didn’t even know.
“Why didn’t he just take what he wanted?” Another blow. He hadn’t let her catch her breath that time before he launched into his next question, wielding the paddle again with no warning. It had to have been more than ten by now…trust Draco Malfoy to not even stick to the right count!
“Why didn’t you fight him like you fight me? He doesn’t even have command over you anymore!” There was a pause and some more unintelligible mutterings before he asked, “Why does he even want you?!”
He didn’t stop. More hits followed, the pain so intense and absolute that Hermione felt consciousness slipping and she hung loose in her bindings. Her breathing was ragged around her shrieks and moans. He didn’t allow for her to even answer the questions he was firing at her.
When he struck her for the last time, she could no longer even pick her head up. Her arse and thighs were one big mass of flesh that felt filleted and on fire and she was bawling without any control.
It seemed like hours later before she had command over her lungs and her thoughts again. When it was finally quiet, with the exception of her hitching breath and the quiet whispered words from Draco that continued to be just out of her hearing, Draco spoke directly to her again.
“I demand you answer my questions.”
She couldn’t have stopped the words from spilling past her lips if she had even tried. And – oh, she tried to stop them. “I didn’t let him – I love him. He didn’t have to take it from me because I gave it to him freely. I don’t have to fight him – I want him. He wants me because he loves me, too!” By the time the forced admission was pulled out of her, Hermione was crying hysterically again. No, no, no, no! He can’t know this, he can’t! He can’t! He’ll get Lucius killed! In the same breath, however, another voice reasoned with her. Draco knowing about her and Lucius was better than him knowing about Harry and the Order.
She was so weak with pain, and so fatigued from crying, that she couldn’t do anything to try and take it back. The command had been made – her secrets were spilled. At least she had been able to control which secrets she allowed out in the open.
Fuck Occlumency – Draco’s orders were like Veritaserum. If he told her to tell Voldemort every secret she knew, it would be over!
Draco rounded her again and the expression on his face held more murder than she had ever seen in her life – and she had been in a bloody war! “My father loves you? You? You’re a disgusting little, filthy Mudblood!”
Hermione just wept harder, trying to hold her body still as she attempted to keep her feet on the floor just enough to take some pressure off her toes. When it came down to it, though, their discomfort was heavily overshadowed by her poor, broken bottom.
“Answer me!” he roared.
“Yes! He! Loves! Me!” she cried out and startled when her mother’s voice came from beside her.
“Hermione?”
“No, no Mum! Go back to sleep, I’m okay!” The words were bitten out between ragged breaths and puffs of air. She completely missed Draco summoning the next sadistic tool of torture but did hear him muttering to himself again. This time, the words were discernable.
“No, Mother. I won’t use that one.” He came back into her line vision, which was swimming with tears, while shaking his head like he was confused or distracted.
Then she was distracted by the sound of Narcissa’s voice. “Draco, what are you doing?” Hermione’s head lolled to see the woman in a portrait over the vanity, but Draco paid the painting no mind.
“Narcissa, please get help!” Hermione whimpered pitifully. “Please –! Arrrghhhh! Oh gods!”
Draco had chosen a whip of some sort. It had a long leather handle and many ropes that spilled out of the end like the streamers from the handles on her childhood bicycle. The first blow stung, and she shirked away from it as Jane started screaming and begging Draco to stop hurting her daughter.
“Shut up, you Muggle bitch, or I’ll just turn my attentions on you – do you need more?” He snarled at Jane, who recoiled, before landing another blow across Hermione’s upper back. She shrieked again, which caused Narcissa to start shouting form her portrait.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy, I command you to stop! That girl is pregnant! For Merlin’s sake – what about the baby?!”
Hermione was starting to lose focus again, the blows came swift and hard, she could feel liquid trickle down her body and knew he must be breaking her skin open. She shrieked and gasped and squirmed with each hit while begging for him to stop. Her words were drowned out by their mothers. Narcissa demanding he think about the baby. Jane was shocked and horrified that there was a baby and wanted her daughter left alone.
Draco continued to mutter incoherently, randomly snapping, “Shut up!” at seemingly no one as he shook his head. A few times he flapped his hands as though he was trying to ward off a swarm of bees.
The strikes became more concentrated on her back and upper arms before he spun her and started landing them across her breast and abdomen. Narcissa’s screams became louder and louder, which seemed to increase the intensity of the hits. It wasn’t long until Hermione was completely limp in her bindings, begging him to stop with breathless gasps every time there was a break between a blow. Blood continued to trickle down her body.
Hermione beseeched and pleaded while Narcissa shouted and yelled and sobbed and Jane screamed obscenities at the man who was abusing her only child. Draco kept pausing to shake his head every few hits. Once he even slammed his fist repeatedly onto his forehead. Jane encouraged this while Narcissa told him to let it go (which confused Hermione all he more) and Hermione tried to drag in a breath or two.

“Draco! Stop!” Narcissa scolded hotly. “You don’t want to do this, I know you don’t, my darling boy. You have always fancied Miss Granger – she is carrying your son! Your son! Draco, you are going to hurt the child! Look at me! I know you’re in there, Draco! My sweet boy – I know you’re in there!”
Hermione cried for her unborn child, whom she loved regardless of his paternity while her mother fired questions through her own gasps and groans.
“How is she pregnant? Lucius told me she was protected against pregnancy! Draco, you must stop – you sadistic arse! What is wrong with you?! No person is like this without reason! You must stop! Please stop hurting my daughter!”
Hermione cried for Lucius – for the blame he would cast upon himself when he came home to find her and the child dead. Because she was sure Draco was going to kill her as he talked to himself clearly now.
“A little harder, a little lower. Yes, My Lord. I will do as you bid. Yes, she deserves it, I understand. I will kill her, as you have instructed!”
Hermione cried because she no longer had use of her muscles. She hung completely limp in her tethers, her feet dragging uselessly on the floor. Blood was thick and spreading down her legs and hips and across her back as sweat poured down her face and neck.
Suddenly, she broke.
In an instant, all her anger was gone, all her fear was gone.
Yes, she was going to die.
Yes, she was going take her child with her.
She had only one try left, so she did the only thing she could think of.
She forced herself to raise her head to capture the eyes of her tormentor. He seemed surprised when his gaze latched to hers, as it stilled all movement. A muscle under his eye twitched and his mouth parted a bit in question. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“Please Draco!” she whimpered. It was significant, this pleading. It was the first time she had ever spoken his given name. Yes, she had thought it before. Yes, she had said it to other people before. It was the first time she had ever called him by his name to his face, though, and the sound of it carried over her mother’s sobs and Narcissa’s sharp scolding. “Draco…please.”
She was astonished when the flogger clattered noisily to the ground when both of Draco’s hands moved to his head as if he were in pain. Her gaze was becoming more focused now that the torture had stopped, and she could see he was trembling. When he looked up at her again, his pupils were blown wide open and his face was marred with confusion.
“Granger?” When he acknowledged her in a nonderogatory way, Hermione felt a brief jolt of elation before she could no longer keep her head up. Draco looked from her to Jane, and finally – when Narcissa called for him again – he spun to the portrait.
“Mother?” he asked dazedly, speaking to the painting for the first time ever. “Mother? What…happened?”
With those words, Draco Malfoy collapsed into a heap at her dangling feet.
Tinny popping into the living room of Severus’ home in Spinner’s End made both men freeze with horror. The elf didn’t even need to say anything, all three knew she was under direct orders to only come to him in a life or death situation.
Lucius and Snape barely exchanged glances before they Disapparated one after the other, reappearing moments later in the Apparition Foyer of Malfoy Manor. Wordlessly, Tinny held her hands out to both wizards to took hold immediately. They were outside the bedchamber doors an instant later.
All they heard was Draco’s, “Mother? What…happened?” before they were rushing through the doors. Lucius gaze followed his collapsing son for a moment before he saw his little witch. His heart started slamming into his ribcage at the sight of her dangling from the ceiling, covered in blood. Her head was bent, and she was limp in her bindings.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, rushing to her as Snape moved to the heap of young man at her feet. Lucius used a severing charm to cut the invisible rope that Hermione dangled from and caught her in his arms before lowering her carefully to the floor. He was sickened by the marks that covered her body – she had been whipped badly.
She hissed and whimpered as he lay her out, trying not to react to the way her skin was ripped across her breasts and stomach. “Merlin, Hermione!” he gasped, not even able to choke out any real sentiment. He should have never left her. He knew that Draco was upset about how long she had been gone the day before. He should have stayed with her today. “Severus! Please!”
Severus was barking his own orders at Tinny and Bilby, who disappeared with cracks! Before he shifted his attention to Hermione. “Take Mrs. Granger down, Lucius. The gods know how long she’s been strung up like that,” Severus directed as he started inspecting Hermione, whose eyes had fluttered shut and her head rolled to one side as she passed out.
“Miss Granger!” he attempted to rouse Hermione as Lucius cut her mother down and covered her by pulling a throw off the large bed. It appeared Jane Granger wasn’t in any immediate harm; her cuts and bruises were much more superficial than her daughter’s.
Narcissa was screaming at Lucius but he ignored her, too focused on saving Hermione from Draco’s actions to worry about Draco’s own ailments. Moments later, the room was flooded with more beings as the elves returned. Bilby with two healers in tow; Healer Jacobs and a woman he didn’t recognize. Jacobs immediately crossed to Severus, who waved the man to Mrs. Granger instead, while the woman knelt down at his son’s head and began casting diagnostic charms.
“Enervate!” Snape’s voice cut through Lucius’ focus on Draco and he returned his attention back to Hermione, who gasped and attempted to sit up. “Lay down, you silly girl!” Snape snapped and looked up when Tinny popped into the room holding a large medical kit.
Quickly, Snape flicked his wand at the kit which sprung open. Vials of potions danced to him and he tipped the first one into Hermione’s open mouth. “Blood replenisher,” he told her. “You haven’t lost a vital amount, but enough to warrant it,” he explained to her before tilting another to her lips. “Pain potion,” another “healing potion,” another “calming draught.” The list went on until an even half dozen had been imbibed.
“I’m going to clean your skin with my wand, brace yourself for the sting.” Severus muttered a cleaning incantation and Lucius swore loudly when the blood cleared as Hermione gave a small shriek of discomfort. She was littered in small, pea-sized pock marks that continued to ooze.

“Knotted flogger?” Severus asked Hermione, and she glanced around before lifting a trembling finger to point at the offending instrument. Severus summoned it and made a face. “Studded flogger. I’m going to knit the wounds using dittany, Miss Granger.”
It seemed an eternity later when the cuts and abrasions on her front were tended to. Lucius was paying no mind to the fact that Jane was now robed and sitting in a wing back chair by the fire while Tinny served her tea. Nor did he notice that Jacobs and the unknown healer were both muttering nervously over Draco’s inert form. Especially when Severus bade the girl to roll onto her stomach.
Both men swore judiciously, which only succeeded in making Hermione start to cry when she had been doing so well at maintaining control. Working as quickly as possible, Severus cleared the blood from the flogger marks before cleaning and closing them. It was her bum and thighs, however, that gave both men pause.
Snape cast more diagnostics. “There is extensive deep tissue bruising and broken blood vessels,” he told Lucius in a gruff voice. Lucius ran a hand down his face, horrified. Her backside was so purple it almost looked black.
Snape pulled his kit closer and rummaged for something a little deeper in the chest. “Here, Miss Granger,” he lifted another vial to her lips and gave a tight smirk when she gagged on it. “I know it’s foul, but you’ll be able to at least sit carefully within an hour or so. I will use external salves and balms as well.”
“Water,” Hermione whispered after choking down the potion. Bilby was at their side within a second, tipping a glass of iced water to her lips. Lucius was relieved when she drank deeply. “Thank you,” she whispered before laying her head back down on folded arms.
It wasn’t long later when Severus spoke to him again, although Lucius was very lost in his own world as he watched the two scenes in front of him. Severus was tending to the wounds of the witch he loved, and the healers who were casting increasingly desperate diagnostics and arguing in hushed voices over his only son. At least Narcissa had grown quiet. She watched silently from the portrait over the vanity.
“Where do you want her, Lucius?” Severus asked quietly as he finally closed his personal medical kit.
Lucius didn’t hesitate. “My suite. Severus..." he grabbed his friend's wrist, "the...child?”
"Heartbeat is strong." It was a simple answer and Lucius gave a tight nod, not sure how he felt.
The moment Snape Disapparated with the girl, both Healers turned to him. It was clear that neither were excited to inform him of what was wrong.
“Just…tell me.” He was surprised with how cool and detached his voice was.
“Mr. Malfoy,” Healer Jacobs said quietly. “The only thing we know for certain is that your son is in a coma.”
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A World Not Fit To Live In