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The End Is The Beginning Is The End	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 52604 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Harry Potter or Harry Potter related nor do I profit from any of these stories. They are purely for fun.

Chapter List
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- 50
Hermione lay curled in a ball. Several days ago she saw the last of all she held dear snatched cruelly away. And a part of her knew that it was too good to be true. There was no escaping this nightmare. She should have known better.
But the betrayal by Veatris...no...Lucius pretending to be Veatris...that cut her to the bone. She didn't think she had anything left now; she was hollow. Empty. She was neither sad nor angry. It was this complete and utter lack of feeling that made Lucius agitated.
She didn't react to his snide comments, or cry. Even his sadistic tortures seemed to have little impact. He had to exert a great deal of effort to make her even cry out in pain, and he was hesitant to that because it was so dangerous.
A distant part of her believed he wanted to keep her alive just to make her life hell. Perhaps she was right. She long since gave up trying to figure out his motivations for keeping her. It made sense before; he needed her alive at least to figure out where there resistance was.
He accomplished that. Easily too. All he had to do was a little spell, treat her nicely with this new face because after the months spent enduring his awful treatment...she craved even the tiniest bit of human kindness. He must have laughed the entire time at her own weakness.
And his duplicity...was astounding. She wasn't even sure he was human. Because what kind of human could do what he did to another? Disgusting.
She lay on her side, and ignored his presence. Strange, this utter lack of feeling. When once his touch would make her cringe, now she simply lay there. She was ready to die, and would probably do the deed herself if she weren't so utterly empty and unmotivated.
'Since I am feeling kind and since you will be seen by my side more often, I took the liberty of ordering new garments for you. You may be my slave, but you've served your purpose well. I don't want to see you in rags again unless I say so.'
She didn't even look at him.
He sat down beside her and gently caressed her arm, 'If this continues, I may have to seek my pleasure elsewhere. How about that Weasley girl? She looks like she might be a descent fuck, and I am partial to red hair after having had it for so long...'
'Go ahead.' She said with no emotion, 'Do what you want.' She paused, 'But if you touch her I will slit my wrists. And you won't have me around to parade around.'
He couldn't believe her audacity. He laughed softly, and then lightning fast seized her by the throat. They stared into each other's eyes. She did not flinch or even tremble.
'Just like a doll,' He said derisively, 'A silly doll. Who should know better than to threaten me.' He squeezed, and watched with some satisfaction as she grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his hand away. And he brought his face so close to hers as if to kiss her and said quietly, 'I get to decide when you die, no one else. If you try to kill yourself, I will kill every single person I spared. If you want more deaths on your conscience, then by all means, do what you like.'
He released her and stood.
Hermione rolled away, and curled into the fetal position.
'I hate you,' She whispered. 'You're a monster.'
He straightened his clothes and smiled as he did so, 'This monster is the one who touches you.'
'Shut up.'
'The one who makes you scream in esctasy.'
'Shut-up!'
Finally, a little emotion. He placed a hand on his head and posed negligently, 'Weren't you the one who said you loved this monster? Didn't you beg me to love you? A few times, if I can recall, and you were--
She slapped her hands over her ears and he watched coldly as two tears ran down her face, though her eyes were squeezed shut. 'Please, don't...just stop....'
Lucius knew deep down there was something wrong with him. But what else could he do? He did something you never did: he developed an attachment to his victim. A strange, warped kind of love and lust, and instead of protecting her, he time and time again sought to inflict pain.
But what other choice did he have? At least when she was hating him...
She was thinking of him....
He turned on his heel, 'I will be back late.'
Only after she heard the soft click of the door closing did Hermione allow herself to finally cry.
I want to not feel again...
- 48
- 49
- 50
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The End Is The Beginning Is The End