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Be Careful in the Dark	By : SilentCall Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 40145 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 41
- 42
- 43
Chapter 42: Sisterhood (This isn't really a snippet.)
Hermione blinked groggily and looked around. The floor and walls were made of that same grey, uneven stone and the room was bare. The floor sloped in towards a drain in the center, the grating rusted. That was a good sign. She snorted to herself at her own sarcasm.
Her arms were bound over her head and already her shoulders were aching. Her ankles were chained separately to the wall behind her. Hermione wiggled her fingers and grunted as she realized the chains were equipped with anti-magic spells. How the hell had this happened? She had a few muzzy memories of apparating across the globe…after that it was blank, probably a memory charm of some sort. There were no memories of Harry and Severus and she could only hope they were all right.
The door opened and the tall figure of Bellatrix Lestrange entered the room. I guess I’ll get those answers sooner rather than later.
“I can hardly believe it worked.” Bellatrix purred as she prowled towards her. Severus followed in her wake, face impassive.
Hermione spared a glance at Severus before turning her attention to Bellatrix. She was the more dangerous in this situation though Severus would do whatever was necessary to maintain his cover for the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione had accepted that fact years ago.
“I think it’s high time we saw who is behind the mask of the Bumbledore’s ‘secret weapon’. Now, be a good girl and drop the transfiguration.” Bellatrix sneered at the very idea any person could be a weapon against the Dark.
“I killed your husband you know.” Hermione said conversationally. She could get out of this if she kept her cool.
An angry red flush crept up the pale skin of Bellatrix’s neck and she smacked Hermione across the face, dragging her nails across her cheek. Hermione could feel blood beginning to seep from the shallow scratches. Hermione grinned nastily at her. This was going to suck, a lot. Bellatrix smiled back and then pointed her wand at Hermione.
“Crucio!” She shrieked and molten lava began to ripple through Hermione’s bones. She arched her back helplessly as she tried to ride the pain. Bellatrix’s voice came again and the pain increased, a scream tore from her throat before she could help it. When the pain stopped Hermione was sweating and her whole body trembled. She swallowed dryly trying to refrain from vomiting before she looked the spare woman in the eye.
“I carved him open like a piece of fruit.” Hermione rasped out, ruthlessly crushing the ocean of fear threatening to tug her into oblivion. She tuned out Severus’ impassive face. He could only distract her and there was no way he could help her unless she gave him an opening.
Bellatrix snarled and lunged forward. Forgetting her magic in the heat of the moment she kneed Hermione viciously in the gut. Her breath whooshed out and Hermione did her best to double over while being chained to a wall.
“I’m going to enjoy this you sniveling little whore!” Bellatrix snarled at her, spittle spraying over Hermione’s cheek.
There was a reason Bellatrix Lestrange was one of Voldemort’s top Death Eaters. She was inventive, motivated, and pure evil trapped in a pale, veiny body. Hermione hadn’t even heard of some of the spells that Bellatrix started with, and she had exerted a great deal of effort to know the darkest of spells. The pain was unspeakable and Hermione did not bother to restrain her screams. A woman like Bellatrix was driven by the pain of her victims and in the haze of her burning body she knew Bellatrix would get sloppy if she got a little carried away. Oh god, the pain. The soundtrack of Lestrange’s laughter felt etched into her brain. But Bellatrix, for all she was a pureblood, was no priss and she liked her torture old school style, loved getting her hands dirty with the real blood and sweat. So in between the spells that tried to suck Hermione’s soul dry came the knives.
It could have minutes. It could have been days. The blast of spells and the tangy smell of blood obscured Hermione’s ability to focus.
“How is this possible? How can you maintain your spells?” Bellatrix was close enough that Hermione could smell the stench of her sweat, feel her enraged, panting breath on her cheek. It was apparently hard work torturing someone. “Break, you bitch!” A wet, sloppy tongue ran up Hermione’s face, lapping up the blood. Hermione jerked her face away and stared into her torturer’s beady little eyes.
“Life’s rewarded me for being a bitch. I’m not going to stop now.” Hermione hissed though she barely recognized the voice that issued from her throat as her own.
A small snort told her that Severus was still there though all she could see was Bellatrix. It couldn’t have been that long then. Bellatrix reared back and whirled to face Severus.
“Do you think you can do better, poison-rat?” Bellatrix asked him silkily. The blood in Hermione’s eyes prevented her from seeing Severus’ face but she could imagine the rage hidden under boredom.
“I? My dear Bellatrix, you are the most acclaimed torturer within our ranks. If you fail to produce the necessary information…surely no one could.”
Hermione could almost hear his grin and Bellatrix’s flinch. Way to encourage her to greater heights of torture, honey.
Bellatrix hissed at him and Severus gave a small, chilly laugh. Bellatrix turned back and Hermione steeled herself. Might as well give one last hurrah before the pain started again. She worked her mouth, sucking on her bloodied lip, and as Bellatrix stepped closer she hocked a bloody ball of spit right in her face. The expression on the skinny bitch’s face was priceless though Hermione knew she would pay and pay.
Screams echoed in the hallway and Bellatrix whipped her head around as swiftly as a snake spotting prey.
“Go and find out what that is.” She hissed at Snape. He momentarily looked as if he would refuse and then he smirked, leaving in a swish of long, black robe.
The shift in Bellatrix was immediate and almost more terrifying than anything she had done yet. Almost.
“Alone at last, my sweet.” Bellatrix’s beady, black eyes focused on her and Hermione couldn’t stop the shiver of revulsion and fear that swept through her. If anything, Bellatrix’s smile got sweeter.
“I didn’t want to give the game away to that parasite but you and I both know the truth, don’t we?”
Did this crazy bitch think she was supposed to answer that question? Bellatrix smiled coquettishly and tapped the pad of her finger against the tip of the bloody knife she was holding.
“I never would have imagined it. It’s just too delicious.” Bellatrix batted her lashes and stepped forward. Hermione watched in sick fascination at the light that glinted off the knife as it came closer and closer to her face. She flinched as burning pain spread across her jaw and more blood slid down the skin of her throat. “Shy, sweet, useless Hermione Granger is the assassin we’ve been looking for. Imagine that!” Bellatrix’s voice was breathy and brainless, better suited to a tea party than a down and dirty torture session.
What the hell is going on?
The knife moved lower down the center of her chest, leaving a fresh cut and slicing open her shirt. Bellatrix muttered a word and with a small pop the knife disappeared. With wet, sucking sounds Bellatrix tugged the shirt of Hermione’s body, baring her breasts to her lascivious gaze.
“The Dark Lord promised me I could have you, when all of this has finished. Severus made his bid early on too but the Dark Lord knows who serves him best.” Bellatrix was vibrating with anticipation and one arm wrapped around Hermione’s waist possessively while the other cold hand reached up and pinched a nipple. “And the fact that all that innocence hides such darkness,” Bellatrix paused and shuddered, “Merlin that just makes it better!”
Christ on a crutch, was she kidding? Bellatrix began to grind her pelvis into Hermione’s hip, humming the whole time. Apparently not. Stunned, Hermione said the first thing that came to her mind.
“Way to live the stereotype B.”
“What?” Bellatrix pulled back, a frown rising up through her dreamy expression.
“I mean, way to take the sisterhood down a notch. The dominant, crazed, scary-as-shit, sole female Death Eater is a lesbian. How…predictable. No wonder the big boy Death Eaters let you play.” Where this particular diatribe had come from was beyond her but when in doubt…and when being tortured by a complete psycho…go with the unexpected.
Bellatrix reared back and hissed at her before slapping Hermione cruelly. What would have happened next was unclear since a disheveled Harry burst into the room and pointed his wand at Lestrange’s back.
“Stupefy!”
Bellatrix’s enraged face slacked and she slid quietly to the ground. Harry rushed forward, snagging a key from the table of…implements…and unlocked the cuffs at her ankles. Hermione had every intention of standing on her own two feet when he unlocked her arms but found her legs wobbling unsteadily underneath. Without a word Harry scooped her up and apparated away.
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Be Careful in the Dark