split in two | By : sappysappysappy Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 56785 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
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 Two – The Snakes' Lair
As Hermione flew on to her unknown destination with her treacherous portkey she wondered where she will end up. Probably a danky dungeon with iron maidens, exotic slow poisons and the like. Should she try to get it over quickly and goad them to kill her or should she be brave and detached as they will cast their Crucios on her? Unbidden, the image of Neville's loony parents came to her mind. They were very brave. Professional Aurors they were, but they couldn't hold their own against the Crucios. They had the minds of three year olds. Trying to fortify herself for her grim future Hermione tried to think of nothing at all. Just like Trelawney did all the time. How she will be pleased to see her prophecies come true for once. "You will die horribly, my dear. Nothing to worry about, happens every year with one of my students you know. It's all in the tealeaves."
With a sudden lurch she landed. Frenziedly she tried to take in her surrounding ignoring the urge to throw up all over herself. The room looked soft and airy, heavily perfumed and overly fluffy and she was standing of all places in the middle of a round, blood red bed. Taking slow, shallow breaths through her mouth, Hermione tried to make sense of her situation. She was about to step down from the bed when she felt something cold on her ankle. Looking down, she was momentarily relieved to see that it was only a smiling house-elf in tea towel who was just finishing… securing a silvery chain around her ankle. It trailed off beneath the bed."What did you, Where am I, What's going on?" Hermione exclaimed, getting louder and louder. This was not what she expected. She expected something, but this wasn't it.The house elf smiled at her radiantly. "You is in your chambers, Mistress, and I is pleased to put on your anklet chain."Hermione looked tentatively at the delicate soft silver chain on her ankle. It felt strong and wouldn't come off. Retreating to the other side of the bed she tried to get up only to fall back on the bed at the end of her tether. "Who are you? Let me go.""I is Kinky, Mistress. I is here to serve your every need. Kinky is very pleased to have a new toy to serve. Kinky cannot unleash Toy. Master ordered it so.""My name is Hermione Granger, not Toy, Kink …" Hermione splattered"Master ordered it so." The house elf explained in a patient tone reserved for the naughty five year olds who should have known better. "Kinky is sure Toy and her Kinky will have a great time. Master will be back by evening, and Kinky will make her Mistress a beautiful toy." Enthused the little house elf. "First Kinky is getting rid of these ugly rags Mistress is wearing and giving Mistress a bath."As Hermione opened her mouth to try and protest again all her clothes popped into the dustbin and her ankle-chain suddenly pulled her off the bed and across the floor to a large sunken bath-tab rapidly filling with scented vanilla and rose water. Her panicked shriek was drowned in a mouthful of water.Hermione tried to get her breath back and stop coughing, and gradually noted that Kinky was in a floating frenzy of various soap-cakes, shampoo-bottles, sponges and expensive looking perfume bottles. Hermione gave up and, biting her tongue, sat back in the tab. She will never get out of here if she continued this histrionics attack. She will pretend to be cooperative and try and glean some information about her whereabouts and situation from her surroundings and the obviously misguided house-elf. Surely she could convince her that what she was doing was wrong, whatever that may be, and help her get out of this weird nonsensical world and back into the real world.As Kinky continued her ministrations Hermione wondered why she never seemed to be able to escape the clutches of ‘the Looks’-harpies. First her mother, then the Patil and Brown twits and now this house-elf. They never seemed to listen to her when she tried to explain that she didn't want someone who only wanted her for her looks (as if they were worth anything special), she wanted someone who will love her as she was, no glamour added.After a rather enjoyable, long bath and less enjoyable hair brushing, Kinky got to business while Hermione tried to pry anything useful out of her. The bathroom didn't look at all promising and neither did the rest of it. She learned that only Kinky could control her anklet chain which meant that she would have to ask the ugly elf for permission every time she wanted to go to the loo and Kinky wasn't too clear about what it was beside "a very good ankle chain. Mistress is not to worry, the chain is very soft and Kinky will never hurt the Master's toy."It appeared to be an elfish magic object, something she knew almost nothing about since house elves didn't believe in putting their knowledge into books but instead passed it on from generation to generation by word of mouth. Could she possibly summon Dobby to help her to freedom? It didn't seem likely and anyway his loyalties were centered on Harry and not her.As they were finishing and Hermione was nervously eyeing the darkening windows, remembering Kinky's words about the Master's (obviously Lucius, she couldn't imagine Voldemort giving her this reception) arrival in the evening. Kinky beamed at her and proclaimed "Now Kinky is putting the Mistress in proper cloths and getting rid of that ugly trash and then Mistress will await for the Master's arrival. Kinky is eager to hear from Mistress if Master was pleased with her appearance in the morning." squeaked the excited house elf. "If Mistress is needing anything more she is just to call 'Kinky!' and Kinky will appear" and with a pop she was gone with all her former clothes.Taking a deep breath Hermione turned to gaze into the full-length mirror on the wall by the hearth. Choking on her indrawn gasp, Hermione closed her eyes, counted to ten and opened them again. It wasn't a hallucination. From the other side of the mirror stared at her a wild-eyed girl, her hair picked at the top of her head in a complicated French braid that flowed around her head revealing her slender neck and wearing nothing but an emerald green wrap-around cloth. You could see EVERYTING though it.Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the apparition in the mirror, bare shouldered save for two thin fluffy dark straps and some black lacework with serpent embroidery at the top, with her legs bare to their mid thighs with more of the barely visible serpent embroidery surrounding her dress' bottom. Her toe and fingernails were painted a lurid red to match her lips; her navel button could be faintly seen between the dark red nipples peaking through the sheer spidersilk dress and the dark brown mound between her legs. In utter shock Hermione watched the apparition slowly lift an arm to touch her. At the icy cold shock of their meeting fingertips, Hermione took a stumbling step back, hiding her hands behind her back.It was her! She, the sensible, bookish, goodie-two-shoes was wearing this 'take me!' negligee. Eyes darting all around her, seeking some denial to this looming truth saw it all around her. Know-it-all indeed. It was all in front of her and she hadn't noticed it. Mr. Malfoy practically spelled it out for her when they met. He was going to use her like a rug to wipe himself off with and probably throw her off where he found her when he was done. She wasn't a war prisoner to be questioned, tortured and killed. No, she was a worthless trinket, picked up at the side of the road, spitted on and rubbed with dirty rugs to be leeringly sneered at in the light, only to be thrown off at the side ditch in the end.She had to get out of here! She couldn't end her star-pupil career like this. Who would be Head-Girl next year without her? Unbidden, into her mind came the image of Draco and Pansy together as Head Boy and Head Girl together. Never. She will get out of here somehow and smilingly, spit on Draco Malfoy’s astounded face when he asked his father why he has to put up with the annoying mudblood know-it-all for two more years. Yes, somehow she will get out of here and show all those high and mighty purebloods that she could be as good as them, mudblood that she was.Going to the window to see if she could make any headway in locating where she was, she felt a tugging on her ankle and crushed painfully to the floor on her elbow. Cursing herself and telling herself to get a grip on herself, Hermione retreated strategically back to the bed to think of her next step only to squirm uncomfortably as she felt something hard beneath her left buttock. Thoroughly annoyed by now, she gripped it and drew her hand back to throw it out the unreachable window when her eyes followed her hand to see the pinkish thick rod in her hand and recognized it for the damn portkey that started this whole nightmare. The Portkey! It should get her back to Diagon Alley and out of here. She clasped it to her heart, closed her eyes and prayed for something to happen. After a few silent, tense minutes Hermione opened her eyes again looking despairingly at the unchanged bedroom. Obviously Kinky disarmed it already. It was too easy anyway; she shouldn't have wasted her time hanging her hopes on it.Rubbing it softly across her moist cheek, Hermione closed her eyes for the moment, cherishing this sole relic of the outside world and kissed it softly, wishing for some proof of her existence outside these hateful chambers.Returning slowly to herself, she started examining it more closely. She discovered that it looked bulkier at one end and also softer than the rest of it. Feeling it curiously she found there seemed to be two semihard ellipsoids inside. Perhaps a pair of oblong snake eggs was inserted into the Portkey to give it its transfigurative abilities. She was always curious, if somewhat disdainful of the Weasley twins’ inventions. Looking at the other end of the fake wand she found the end surrounded by a crest before thinning to an obtuse point with a small slit cutting across it. The slit looked too small to put anything inside it but maybe there was some potion stored at the soft bulky end, preserved by the long-lived snake eggs. If so it could probably be squirted through the slit when you squeezed the baggy end. What would the Weasleys, or worse, Malfoy put in there?Deciding to think about that later, Hermione turned the fake wand around and around in her hands, thinking she would have plenty of time later to think again about escape plans and that she deserved a little break before tackling life and death situations. Returning to her examinations she noted that it was covered with thick black fuzz at its base and on the bag with a little on the rest of it, which gave it a nice springy feeling to her fingers. The fuzz was actually a mop of short, shiny black curly strings that made her think smilingly of her own mop of bushy hair. The rod was a bit too thick for her hand to encompass its width and its length almost matched the length of her forearm. The color was a pinkish brown she thought, with here and there a blue line beneath the surface. Probably airing tubes used to inflate it to its hard present state. There was also a distinct ring about the middle.The thing looked oddly familiar. She was sure she had never seen it before in her life but she kept being reminded of biology books her father kept from his university days in his private office back home. Suddenly an odd suspicion crept into her mind. Surely it couldn't be a, she couldn't even think it out loud. Her eyes crept back to the mirror, seeing herself sitting on the red covered bed in her sheer green negligee holding the Thing between her parted legs with its pointy end directed inwards towards the dark blot beneath her nonexistent decency. With a strangled cry she flung it to the floor, standing on the bed to get as far away from this mocking, vile Thing.She had to get out of here before she lost her mind completely. She had no wand, the Portkey didn't work, there wasn't any Floo in evidence by the fireplace and she was running out of time. Steeling herself she got off the bed and knelt on the floor, lifted a corner of the covers and peered under the bed. She needed to find out what the silver chain was tied to. She should have done it already. The chain ended at a point under the center of the bed. There, a heavy iron ring was embedded in the floor. It was hopeless.Could she try and perform a bit of wandless-magic? Nothing fancy, just enough to alert the underage magic authorities of her whereabouts and ask them to get her out of here. She could imagine it right now. A bunch of ugly old wizards Apparating into the room, ogling her sternly before informing her in a no-nonsense tone that she will be spending the night in the Aurors’ Headquarters winking all the while to each other. No. No fucking way. She would have to find some other way.Suddenly she stopped. Of course! Apparation. It didn't require a wand and wasn't readily detectable to the Ministry authorities. That was what she should do. Mr. Malfoy would never expect her to know it at her age. Could she make it in one piece on her first practical try ever? She was after all the best of the best, wasn't she? Did she not cast a perfect Wingardium Leviosa in her first charms class at Hogwarts? Did she not cast a flawless Reparo spell on Harry's glasses before she even set foot in Hogwarts? It was her only hope. She should try and Apparate to Hogwarts' gates and get Professor Dumbledore to protect her from the Malfoys’ wrath. Gathering her wits for this fateful test she looked in horror at the slowly opening door.Biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood against the bubbling scream at the back of her throat, Hermione glimpsed a tall shadowy figure framed by the doorframe against the dark hallway. Seeming to eye her up and down he whispered "Delectable" reminding her incongruously of the forgotten portkey on the floor and the soft warm feeling of it against her cheek and lips.Suddenly the figure took a step forward, making her try and take a step back on the soft, springy mattress, almost costing her her precarious balance in the confusion. Holding onto the idea of safety and escape with her fingernails, Hermione tried to fix the image of the Hogwarts gates in her mind to the exclusion of everything else and willed herself into that perfect image, drawing her figure, negligee and all on the already compelling image.She could feel herself stretching thinner and thinner and her ankle started to burn, feeling as though a corrosive acid was on it, slowly melting her foot away to the bare bones. She couldn't give up now, but she felt herself being pulled back by her ankle with inhuman strength and held onto the wavering image of the Hogwarts gates with the last of her willpower. Her ankle was beyond pain now and the rest of her felt like it was tearing to pieces in a mad tug-of-war game gone terribly wrong.All of a sudden there was a deafening loud ‘Crack!’ and she fell to the soft ground utterly exhausted. Too tired to move, she tried to look around as far as her eyes could turn. There were trees to the side and a heavily ornate granite slab behind her. Sighing in relief to find herself once more at the gates of her promised sanctuary, Hermione closed her eyes in relief and fell into exhausted unconsciousness.$$$$$Lucios stared for a long moment at the spot where the mudblood's head used to be before checking the unconscious form on the bed. Beside the swollen red ankle, with its slowly returning circulation there didn't seem to be any major damage.Should he get rid of the evidence? It was tempting but what if the head was discovered? Could they trace her Apparition trail back here? This was proving quite the annoyance, nothing at all like the pleasant distraction he had planned, to take his mind off the dinner party with his dark lord tomorrow night. Better be safe than sorry and keep her in good health for the time being.Summoning Kinky he ordered her to tend to her charge while he went about setting strong anti-Apparition and Disapparition wards as well as hiding her with the strongest anti tracking spells he could think of on the chambers. He should have done this in the first place instead of putting all his trust on an ancient ankle-chain.He had to admit to himself that it was quite the feat to achieve even the limited success his toy has pulled against her chain, both in the magic-brawn department and the will-power department. It was after all supposed to be a distant cousin of the famous Gleipnir chain – the harder you tried to escape it the harder it pulled you back. Then again, it was never meant to prevent Apparition, that technique was only developed in the sixteenth century. Finishing up the wards, he went back to the bed and traced the soft pale skin around her neck.Well, his son has always complained what a big loud mouth the mudblood was. Maybe it was for the best to get rid of it, along with its pesky head and keep the rest of her lovely body for himself. With the new wards he wouldn't lose any more of her and it would be a fascinating experience fornicating a blind-deaf silent mudblood knowing that somewhere out there her head will cry out in ecstasy to the empty room, and her eyes will shut closed trying to imagine what it would have been like if she hadn't been so stupid as to try and escape.He would have to be careful not to harm her or cause her too much pain now that her head could blab to anyone what he was doing to her. He had seen enough of the inner walls of Azkaban to last him ten lifetimes. Fortunately the girl never had a chance to see his face when he entered her room and the blame for the unauthorized Portkey could as easily be placed on those arrogant Weasley twins as on him.Leaving the unconscious form on the bed untouched, he went back to his rooms thinking whether he should invite Severus for tomorrow's dinner party and ask him if the girl's head turned up at Hogwarts. After all it would be the first place he would run to in her place. Writing a quick invitation for his old school-friend inviting him to his return to freedom party, he summoned his fearful, loyal house elf Scooby, instructed him to send the letter immediately and went to bed.He could still see the girl's last moments in his presence, her features filled with unbearable fear and pain and agony. Was it elation he saw in her glittering eyes at the end? Whatever it was he wanted her wide-awake and aware when he fucked her into oblivion. Snickering to himself he felt a little resentful towards the fates, stealing his chance to shut the big, mudblood mouth with his cock.Thinking about his possible approaches to her he thought soberly on the fact that he wouldn't be able to cast Imperius or any other mind-affecting spell on his little toy. Perhaps he could try mind-numbing potions instead. They would seep through her blood to wherever her head wandered off to. But to get such potions he would have to ask Severus like a penitent boy for a batch of them and with his legendary mind controlling reputation on the line, it didn't seem worth the cost. Never mind, he didn’t need any help to woo a woman. He would try to restrain the magic levels to the absolute minimum levels possible. He was sure he was up to it. The challenge should do him good.Author's Notes1) The magical chain is taken from the Norse mythology:"A magic chain as fine as a silken cord, it was used to shackle the monstrous wolf Fenris. One of the offspring of the trickster god Loki and the giantess Angrboda, Fenris grew so large and so fast that the gods became worried at the threat he posed to them. Using the argument that they wished merely to test his strength, they tried to shackle him first with an iron fetter called Leyding, but Fenris broke it immediately. Then the gods made a fetter twice as strong, called Dromi, and, with more effort, Fenris broke this chain as well. So the chief of the gods, Odin, sent the messenger Skirnir to the realm of the dwarfs and had a magical fetter made called Gleipnir.
"The dwarves forged it from the noise of a cat's footfall, a woman's beard, and mountain roots, the sinews of a bear, a fish's breath, and the spittle of a bird. It was smooth and soft, like a silken thread. When the gods presented Fenris with this new test, he suspected magic and was reluctant to allow them to put it on him. The god Tyr put his hand in the wolf's mouth as a pledge of good faith. Fenris was unable to free himself from Gleipnir. He bit off Tyr's hand in his struggle to break it, but the gods were afterwards safe from the wolf's ferocity. The elder chain still shackles Fenris, of course, and will do so until the last battle on the Day of Doom."
Quote taken courtesy of Azazello and his lovely story "But you alone"
2) The two house elves are OC although Scooby owes its name and inspiration to the famous animated dog Scooby Dooby Doo.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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