Shades In Between | By : ElainaRB Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/LeStrange Views: 21676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from the writing of this story. |
Immediately she stiffened against him, only to feel his husky laughter vibrating against her neck. “If you participate, it will likely be over quickly. I haven’t had a woman in a very long time. If you don’t...” Letting the words hang, he took both her wrists into one large hand and held it above her head. He whispered under his breath, and she felt ropes tug her arms up. Hermione’s eyes widened at the effortless display of wandless magic.
“You seem surprised. I’m a Death Eater, Mudblood, I earned my place by merit.” The barely checked fury was back as he ran his teeth down her throat, pausing to lick her pulse point. In an effort to keep herself detached from what was occurring, Hermione started reciting what she remembered from Hogwart’s, A History, keeping her eyes tightly closed.
“What’s wrong, Mudblood? Can’t get wet for someone who isn’t a blood traitor?” The harsh murmur came seconds before she felt her panties rip, and she tried to go further into her mind. This could not be happening. This simply was not happening.
Calling her courage forward, she was about to start struggling anew, when she felt all of his crushing weight fall on her. Hermione felt her breath go out in a whoosh, and tried to wriggle out from under him. He shifted to her side, throwing an arm around her middle, and she heard a soft snore. Feeling hysterical laughter bubbling up her throat, she tried to keep quiet, lest he awake and finish what he’d started. Recalling his words on the first day, she felt disgusted with herself for having believed he would not rape her. Holding a Death Eater to his promises was likely one of the dumber things she had done in her life, and lately the number seemed to be piling up.
Struggling against the bonds, she very quickly came to the conclusion they would not budge. She wondered what the house-elf would make of the situation, if it were to pop in to see Rabastan Lestrange cuddled up to her, peacefully snoring against her bound form. Closing her eyes she felt tears slip through. Harry and Ron had to be so worried for her, and Molly would be frantic.
She quietly cried herself to sleep, hoping to wake up in a different place, with Ginny sleeping across the room and Lestrange a nightmare best forgotten.
The light slipping through his eyelids woke Rabastan a few hours later, and he shifted against the soft female body pressed against his side, his face nestled against soft breasts and the scent of cinnamon attacking his senses. He allowed himself the luxury of stretching, letting his hands caress the soft curves nestled against him without opening his eyes.
He had often had dreams like this, while in Azkaban. It made the Dementors target him especially, and he had grown to dread the arousing and sensual sensations accompanying the images. Deciding to enjoy this, before the soul numbing cold started seeping into his cell, he allowed himself to touch the woman in his arms.
He was in a haze of lust, when a screech sounded right beside his ear. Cringing, he allowed himself to open one eye, and was faced with the murderous gaze of Potter’s Mudblood. He had slept with the girl. He had slept with the Mudblood. A cold feeling settled itself in his stomach and he pushed off the bed.
“What did you do to me, you filthy whore?” Letting the rage build, he threw the robes he’d spotted at his feet over her naked form. Her tempting, feminine form. Before the rage could take root, and leave him with a murdered Mudblood and no explanations, he stalked from the room, wondering if he would have to worry about half-blood brats in the coming months. The thought was sobering, and he decided to return to the Dark Lord before his absences made further ripples.
Her shoulders ached, and the pressure in her bladder had become unbearable before the house-elf popped into the room. “Oh missy... Oh missy... I is sorry, missy!” The creature had big tears in its eyes, and Hermione couldn’t quite bring herself to give it the lecture she had been planning for hours. Because of an apparent wardrobe issue, she’d almost been brutally raped by a Death Eater!
“It's fine... Just untie me, please.” Feeling the ropes give, she tried to move her arms down, groaning at the ache that seemed to span her whole back, as well as a stiffness in her joints that bore witness to a night spent in such an uncomfortable position.
“Master says you is to have the robes, missy. Master is not a bad man, missy.” The elf was tugging at the corners of his long ears, and looking at her as if expecting a kick. Sighing to herself, she decided arguing was of no use and ran to the bathroom, giving little thought to modesty. Who could afford modesty, as a prisoner?
Going through her morning routine, trying to forget the events of the past week, she wondered if she could convince the house-elf to help her escape. While notoriously loyal, Hermione was sure she could outsmart him and run. With these thoughts, she ran a brush through her hair and wondered what she would do for underwear.
In another country, a dark haired man with bright blue eyes vowed to himself he would never touch firewhisky again as he looked on his brother passionately kissing the only woman he’d ever wanted.
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