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In My Waking Dreams	By : bloomsburry Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 16967 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter Universe. They belong to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Her Descent into Insanity
- 2-Her Angel in the Dark
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: This is not for kiddies. Please do not read this because this story is going to be very, very, very dark that covers a lot of disturbing stuff. And if you want fluff, you won't find anything in this story. There will be a lot of hard core smut in this story, which is only suitable for the mature audiences, and who have the taste for the most disturbing things. Overall, this story is going to focus more on the lemon and the very dark, and horrifying things that will involve around Hermione. But I have to admit that there is going to be a somewhat happy-ending in this story. But if you can't stomach like descriptive Gore, hard-core smut and other disturbing things, then this story is not for you.
Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is the first time that I will be writing a Lumione fic. And I hope that you will read this because I really had fun making this story. The diabolical part of me that is...nyahaha...Anyway, I hope you take the warning seriously. This story is not your fluffy story. Although perhaps there might be some of it in the end. Other than that, I'm using British English in writing this story so you might notice the difference in spelling, like for example: Colour, Honour, Defence, Favourite, Dishevelled, Centre, Flavour in British English is spelled as Color, Honor, Defense, Favorite, Disheveled, Center, Flavor respectively in American English. However, if you notice other spelling mistakes, please don't hesitate to inform me. While I will also have to admit that I'm very weak when it comes to tenses. You might notice a lot of mistakes in that area.
"In My Waking Dreams"
Summary: Ron, Harry, Luna and the others were saved by Dobby from the Dungeons of Malfoy Manor. All of them escape, except one.. Hermione Granger. After weeks of being constantly tortured, Hermione's mind finally broke, and her descent to madness was inevitable. That's when a friend came to visit her every night, but who she thought was a friend was actually Lucius Malfoy.
MUST KNOW
*words written in:
Italic - internal monologue
Bold - magical spells/ charms / curses

April 2008
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
England, Great Britain
"Crucio!"
"AAARGGHHHH!"
A high-pitched screams resounded around the cavernous parlour inside the Malfoy Manor, which was soon punctuated by an insane cackle from the black-haired witch, who was currently traipsing around a twitching form.
The girl's malnourished body bled freely from her recent cuts that she had received from her tormentor. Her dirty and dishevelled figure convulsed from the onslaught of hot iron knives that continued to stab into her through the Cruciatus curse.
The ripped and torn clothing that she wore was wet from the amount of tears, blood, sweat, mucus, piss and her own filth that had accumulated all over it in the last few days – or even weeks during her captivity. While grime, dirt and dried blood clamped her hair into thick, tight knots that could make a very good nesting place for any avian vertebrates.
Aside from the sorry state of her mane, there were also a mess of crimson stains that flaked all over her sickly, pale skin; while her face was marked by a multitude of discolouration that ranged from different shades of pink, purple, blue - and some that were yellow, brown and light green; a clear indication that all the contusions on her facial features, were either old or new.
The rest of her body was no better while she twitched and jerked as the Cruciatus curse drove all thoughts from her mind. There was nothing left inside her head, except pain, pain, pain – excruciating pain – a pain so absolute that she forget who she was, why she was there and almost everything that kept most of her sanity intact - or what was left of it.
Albeit she had been tortured by the woman for nearly a month. There was still an inkling of sanity left in her – a sanity anchored by the continuous visitors in her waking dreams.
In fact, Hermione had already descended into the realm of madness that she could no longer distinguished what was real, and what was not.
Her thought processes were no longer functioning as it should. And sometimes her brain had a hard time interpreting images, tastes, scents and sounds that she received - and most often than not – it would always lead to an epileptic episodes or fainting spells that last for minutes. This often happened every time she tried to process complex information or other external stimulus.
The nonstop abuse of Cruciatus curse on her weakened body had etched the convulsing effects on her muscle memory that would sometime send her into a phantom bouts of twitching pain.
However, with Bellatrix Lestrange, the torture curse was not the only favourite method that she love to use on her. The mad woman had also opened up her extensive stash of special carving daggers to prolong Hermione's suffering.
Currently, her body was now riddled with cuts that would never heal. It lined most of her upper and lower limbs with vicious words carved on her skin - skin that would forever be an angry red and forever opened for the world to see.
Mudblood. Filth. Vermin. Impure.
A prominent brand of what the majority of the pureblood society perceived of her.
A mudblood with no rights - and equal to - or even lower than a house elf itself.
Apart from the physical signs of torture and abuse on her body, the rest of the time, Hermione would be immerse in a world that her mind had created. Her neurons completely skewed as she often hear and see either of her two best friends in the dungeons with her - even though they had already escaped along with Dobby, Luna, Ollivander, Griphook and Dean Thomas a month ago.
She was the only one left there in the dungeons. The only one who was still being kept alive. Although, there were others who came and went – screaming and pleading, and who were immediately killed the next day. Never to be seen or heard again.
Faces that were familiar.. or not, which would continuously haunt her in her nightmares.
Occasionally, their dead body would be left to rot in the dungeons along with her. For days on end, the stink of the carcass would be too strong for Hermione that she would involuntarily end up vomiting blood – blood due to the lack of food the she had to endure for days.
Nonetheless, the worst instance was when the flies, rats and maggots would finally turn up to consume the rotting corpse that had lain there for three days or more.
The sight of the maggots that crawled out from the orifices of the carcass, or the buzzing sound of the flies and the consistent scuttling of the black rats all across the cold, stone floor - were a constant reminder to Hermione that she was in a place equivalent to hell.
It was hard to ignore the nibbling and chewing noises as the rats and maggots ate up the exposed entrails, bloody limbs and fleshy bits and pieces, where the pile of meat would soon turn into a skeleton in a matter of days.
Even the gruel – the only meal she was forced to gobble every three days after - was hard for Hermione to swallow. The stink and the blood pools that sometimes reach her spot in the dungeon was enough to drive away what was left of her appetite, which worsened Hermione's deplorable condition. And as result, weakened her all the more.
In the past weeks, Hermione had felt lucky that it wasn't her that ended up like that. Voldemort had reluctantly kept her alive because she was too valuable a hostage. Her connection to the boy-who-lived had saved her from a far worst fate.
Yet the red string that had connected her to the prophesied child also condemned her to this hellhole.
Apart from that, Hermione was also very glad that she hadn't been given to Fenrir Greyback like she had previously feared, or pass from one death eater to another, which could be so much worse than what she was currently experiencing.
Hermione had been assigned to the pureblood witch by Voldemort himself the day after her friends made their escape. It was also the same day when the Malfoys and Bellatrix were subsequently punished for the entire fiasco.
Hermione had been unconscious when Dobby had appeared to save them. Though they had failed to save her during the time she was still under Bellatrix clutches.
Thus, Hermione remained a prisoner, and the days that followed was pure agony for Hermione. Her entire world only revolve around nothing but the endless cycle of her own suffering. There was never a time that her tormentor grew tired of hearing her screams of agony. In fact, the mad witch seemed to enjoy it immensely. Perhaps it was some kind of retribution after the woman had suffered at the hands of Voldemort. The Malfoys and Belatrix failure to keep Harry Potter had nearly cost them their heads, and so Hermione had to pay for their mistake as well.
Despite the fact that Voldemort allowed her to live and breathe in the same air among the upper crust – or rather among the rich pureblood family that imprisoned her - it doesn't necessarily mean that she was allowed to still be equipped with the mental faculties of a witch, or even a normal human being for that matter.
Ergo, in one way or another, regardless of what methods her current tormentor use to torture her. The dark witch always took the time in relishing the sight of Hermione reduced to a level of a slobbering dog - a dog that could no longer bark and without the bite.
And as the inevitable result, Hermione's sharp mind gradually dissolve into nothing but chaotic thoughts with the tendency to create imaginary friends.
However, these imaginary friends were the only thing that kept her from further slipping into that senseless insanity. For the past weeks, the hallucinations made her feel like her friends were still truly there, and sometimes Hermione could see some of her close friends, like Ginny, Neville and Luna– and even her parents visiting her. To the point that she end up talking to them till the early hours of the morning – talking about nothing and everything at the same time.
Even odd was the fact that Hermione often seen either of them holding a bottle of expensive wine to indulge themselves in. The decanter of opened fire whiskey was always present every time Hermione was mentally at her weakest.
She mostly launched into a long monologue when she was at this state. Either way, her frequent visitor was always such a good listener, whether they had a brandy in their hand or not.
Sometimes Hermione would catch a glimpse of a signet ring in their hand and a cane on the other. Although it was always hard to tell with the cloak of darkness that wrapped around her prison cell. Nonetheless, every time she caught a flash of silver gold in the dark that announced her nightly caller, Hermione was always too happy to welcome the hallucinations that soon followed after.
She just couldn't wait to see either of her friends again once her tormentor was done with her.
"AHAHAHA!"
"AAARGGHHH!"
A shrill laughter filled the vast room, accompanied by the insistent screams and choked sobbing as her tormentor danced and twirled around her in mad joy. The woman's new wand pointed at her while Hermione continued to seize on the blood-stained floor. A puddle of her own piss and blood had already pooled down underneath her after hours of torture.
"How does it feel like to be in as much agony, you filthy vermin?" The dark-haired woman purred while she slashed her wand through the air to end the torture curse. "Do you like the feeling of hot irons that pierced through your skin?"
The woman asked as she continued to merrily twirl around Hermione's half-conscious form. Black voluminous dress rustled as it swept through the floor.
"Or would you prefer my special dagger slicing through you skin? I vaguely remember that there are still parts of you that are left unmarred."
Hermione didn't acknowledge the woman as she lay there silent, her muscles still slightly twitching from the after effects of the cruciatus curse. Her cheeks were press against the wet floor – wet from her tears and the spittle that dribbled from her parted lips. She could also smell the metallic tang of blood as it drain from her fresh wounds.
And there was a lot of it, and Hermione faintly wonder if she was going to die from the blood loss.
"Perhaps it's time for another carving session. I think I'm quite done with your legs and arms." The deranged witch informed her – with words that were too hard to follow.
She suddenly felt faint and delirious.
"I don't see any spot there left for me to carve. Maybe, the skin on your back will do. Although it will be too hard for the others to see it… unless you are left with no clothes on your back. What do you think nephew? Would the sight of a naked mudblood bother you?"
Hermione hazily heard the woman said something and felt her pivot to look at someone. The woman's skirt made a swishing sound at the brief movement.
"I – I don't know, Aunt Bella. You – you should ask father about it." Was the response of a young man, which Hermione remember as someone from her school, but for the life of her, she could no longer recall the face and the name of this person.
"How about you, dear brother-in-law?" There was a mocking lilt in the woman's voice as she address this person. "Would it bother you if I allow the filth to traipse naked inside the manor? She is a vermin after all. I don't see why we should let her wear the clothes on her back, which we conjured out from our very own wand. A mudblood like her doesn't deserve an ounce of our magic or kindness. Or would you find such actions unseemly for a pureblood? After all, this is your home, Lucius…"
"Lucius…" Hermione felt like she knew that name somehow, but she couldn't put a face on that name. "Lucius…"
"I think you already know whose house this belong to now, Bellatrix…and it's certainly not me." was the cold reply from a much older male with a cultured voice of someone from a noble birth. "I don't understand why you need to ask permission from me, when you have already done quite a lot of things inside the manor without notifying either my wife or I, prior to your actions. What's the difference now?"
"Well, since I plan to remove the mudblood's clothing altogether, would it trouble you if she remained without clothes for the rest of her captivity?"
"I don't think that's wise Bella." It was another woman that spoke this time. "If you leave the girl without clothing, she will not last long in the dungeons - especially this winter. The cold will certainly kill her."
"Narcissa is right on that one, Bellatrix." There was a sound of scrapping chair as someone got up from their seat, followed by the sound of clinking glass and the sound of something being poured. The masculine voice with the posh lilt continued on. "You will have a lot of explaining to do to the Dark Lord if the mudblood dies."
There was a sound of footsteps as it neared towards her spot. Hermione opened her eyes to peer at the tall figure looming over her. She blurrily saw a man with silver-blonde hair and dark clothing, but she couldn't focus more than that.
She already felt her heart beat slowing down while dark spots danced across her eyes.
"And she will be soon, if you don't do something about those cuts Bellatrix. I see a lot of blood pooling underneath her, and she already looked to be half-conscious."
"She will be fine! This is not the first time that I had her lying in her own pool of blood. I even haven't started carving her back yet, which I sorely want to do next."
"Perhaps you can do it later, Bella." Hermione saw a woman standing next to the silver-haired man. A woman with blonde hair that carefully scrutinized her.
"The girl look like she had lost a lot of blood. She certainly needs a blood replenishing potion… Draco, kindly please be quick and get one from your father's stash in the study."
"Yes, Mother," came the hasty response from the boy, and then there was a loud crack shortly after.
The conversation around her commenced once again.
"Where's the house elf, Narcissa? I thought we have servants for this kind of thing. Not send our son for such menial task."
"I sent the elf to do some important errand, Lucius. I'm sure Draco doesn't mind at all. He seemed to be on the verge of fetching it himself, when the mudblood started bleeding heavily."
Hermione's eyes began to droop.
"I told you she's fine, Cissa! The mudblood is just pretending to be in a weakened state for us to react thusly."
"I don't think so, Bellatrix." Hermione felt fingers prodding her neck, checking for her pulse.
Slowly, Hermione lifted her eyes to look at the person, and saw the blonde man with bloodshot lids and a pair of stormy, grey irises that were currently assessing her - perhaps a handsome man once, if he didn't look completely inebriated.
"I know him…." Hermione thought as she looked at him through half-lidded eyes, her mind gradually descending into that familiar dark oblivion. "I know his name…"
"We are losing her! Her heartbeat is slowing down! We need that potion immediately!"
Hermione vaguely heard him yell in panic while there was another distinctive crack.
"Draco, quick! Give me the potion!" The man demanded in a frantic voice. "We can't let the mudblood die, or it will be off with our heads!"
There was the sound of hurried footsteps, and then there was a soft brush of cloth against her skin as someone knelt beside her.
She felt fingers against her parch lips, trying to pry her mouth open.
"Drink." The voice commanded that triggered a memory in her scattered mind.
"Malfoy…" She thought dully.
She felt a trickle of liquid on her throat.
"Drink all of it."
Hermione did as commanded while she slowly remembered who the person was.
"Lucius - Lucius Malfoy," was Hermione's last thought, before finally succumbing to that beckoning darkness at last.

3 Days Later….
Hermione was just drifting off to sleep when she heard the unmistakable sound of the door softly being opened. She slowly sat up and look towards the doorway, where she saw the silhouette of a man.
Briefly, she saw a flash of silver hair and a swish of rich clothing as the person took a step forward.
The form solidified into someone familiar.
"Ron." Hermione said smiling at the tall figure, who strode towards her. "I thought you weren't going to come this time... I presumed that it was going to be Neville, but I know he's still busy with his Herbology assignment."
The red head didn't reply, instead he halted and stood near a wall to survey her; tight-lipped as always, like most of the night he visited her.
And like the past three days, he hadn't brought that familiar firewhiskey that she was used to see either of her friends carry every time they visit her. She had been used to seeing them gulping straight up from the bottle, that she had been surprised when they had come empty-handed for the past three days.
Hermione had wondered why, but she never did press for answers. Because she had felt like if she did… it would break the fragile bond that she had forge with all her frequent visitors – visitors that occasionally came to her at night with a drink in their hands.
"Anyway, I was just thinking about what happened last year." Hermione stated all of a sudden.
She saw the flash akin to confusion in Ron's pale features.
"Oh… I'm talking about when the Chamber of Secrets was opened." She clarified as she stared at him. Immediately, noting the spark of interests in his eyes, when she mentioned the Chamber of Secrets.
It was also odd that Ron looked to be paler somehow… and he seemed to have grown taller, broader across the shoulders and developed a strong aristocratic features - which Hermione uncertainly recall not seeing there before…
However, Hermione hastily dismissed her observations, and resumed where she left off.
"Do you remember the time when I ended up petrified?" She asked as she recalled the unpleasant event.
Ron of course remained silent as he stared at her waiting - always waiting and listening, but seldom talking.
It had always been like this when Hermione had begun regaling tales to her friends at night.
"I didn't tell you this, but when I was walking down that hallway with a mirror in hand, I thought I was going to die." Hermione admitted to him as she leaned her back against the wall. "I had just recently discovered what creature that hid inside the chamber, and I was about to tell Harry, when I heard the basilisk slithering inside the pipelines. And in that instant, an image of you flash in my mind...just before I saw its yellow eyes. I didn't know at that time why I thought of you until today..."
There was a long pause as Hermione met Ron's stormy-grey eyes.
"I know we had argued often for nearly two years… and sometimes your lack of study habits and manners irked me most of the time. However, despite your shortcomings… I just can't stop feeling this way…" Hermione trailed off, suddenly embarrassed and uncertain.
Ron was gazing at her with look of amusement in his eyes, which completely baffled Hermione. Yet she strengthened her resolve and soldiered on.
It was now or never.
"Look," She started with a firm voice. "Ron, I know you are a complete idiot sometimes - but the truth is… I like you very much! I like you since the day you save me from the troll two years ago!"
She confessed rapidly while her face flushed crimson.
There was a pregnant silence, wherein Hermione shifted her gaze directly towards the floor - but not before she noticed the familiar signet ring on Ron's ring finger.
At the glimpse of it, it always made Hermione feel like something bizarre was happening. But like always, she ignored the nagging feeling.
"You know…" A low, masculine voice interrupted the silence, and Hermione whipped her head up to look at the person who spoke.
There was only Ron – or who she thought it was - standing in front of her.
This was the first time Ron had spoken to her since the day her friends started visiting there.
"If I was that blood traitor Weasley you speak of, I would have immediately declined your poorly vocalized confession." Ron drawled in a cold voice, it was all arctic ice and snobbish, and with a hint of a posh accent.
Hermione was inwardly puzzled by Ron's statement.
"But you are Ron.'' She said as she inspected him. Despite the fact that there might be something peculiar about his stiff posture and some of his physical features, but to Hermione's mind, she could only identify him as her friend - as Ronald Bilius Weasley, also a friend of Harry Potter.
"No, I'm not, mudblood."
Hermione could only frown at the odd name. She didn't know if it was even an endearment that her friend was using.
"Yes, you are. You look like him." She argued.
"I can assure you, mudblood, that I'm not the idiot blood traitor that you have been harbouring feelings for." The not-Ron replied, still amused about something Hermione was unaware of.
"But if you are not him, then who are you?" Hermione queried.
The Ron lookalike carefully assessed her before he replied.
"You don't know who I am? Hmn…I believe my sister-in-law have broken some part of your mind….but I can see that this must be your coping mechanism." He informed her, which only confused Hermione even more. "A coping mechanism that will allow you to hallucinate your friends into existence in place of me, just to preserve their images and emotions that come a long with it. And because of this, you are able to recall some important details of your past every time you talk to me – in spite the fact that you have been subjected to a number of Cruciatus curse earlier today."
Her red-headed friend had spoken to her in a language that Hermione either couldn't understand, or perhaps he was plainly speaking in gibberish. Because the sounds that she had heard was like listening through underwater.
Hermione unexpectedly felt dizzy as her brain tried to comprehend what her friend had said. Nothing really came to her, but a throbbing headache that made her feel faint.
"So is this the reason you see me as someone different every time I come here?" Ron's Doppler-ganger inquired. "As a method to cling to what remains of your sanity?... If it is, then I should probably stopped coming here… Although I did had some fun watching you prattle uninterrupted, and hallucinate every once in a while. The sight of you descending into madness was just too entertaining to watch. Now, however, I believe my constant visits have kept a part of your mind intact, which I'm sure my sister-in-law will be furious to hear. Of course, I'm not going to tell her about my nightly visits here."
Hermione could only stare at him as most of his words sounded garbled. The only thing she understood from Ron was the word 'hallucinate and madness'.
She just couldn't discern why Ron was telling her she was crazy, and that she was hallucinating about him.
It really hurt Hermione to think that her friend thought of her as a mental case.
"But I'm not hallucinating, Ron. And I'm certainly not crazy!" Hermione protested while her lower lip trembled. She was terribly upset about his words that tears began to gather from the corner of her eyes. "What made you think like that? Because this upsets me more than the tactless words you spoke to me two years ago…and there is certainly no rampaging troll this time to make me forgive you!"
Hermione lapsed into silence while she angrily wiped the tears from her eyes, not even seeing the dried blood and grime that clung to her hands and underneath her long fingernails as she continued to sniff pitifully.
"How old do you think you are this time, girl?" was Ron's puzzling question as he took a step closer to her form on the floor.
Hermione brought her attention back to him.
"Why are you asking me this? You know how old I am, Ron! You even sent me a gift for my thirteenth birthday two month ago!"
A pair of dark-grey eyes regarded her quietly.
"So apparently, your mind has regressed to your younger years in life. But it is surprising that you were able to last longer than what I had seen in most victims."
"Ha? What are you talking about?!" Hermione asked the red head, who was now moving away from her. "Wait, where are you going?"
"No matter, it would be soon before your mind shatters." Ron stated as he stalked towards the door, his black school robes swishing behind him. "I will wait for it to happen before seeing you again, mudblood."
"Ron! Wait! Why are you leaving?!" Hermione called out after him, she tried to stand up and follow, but found out that she couldn't move. There were chains on her ankles that prevented her from walking.
She heard the door close as Ron finally left the room.
"What's really happening to me?" She thought in despair as her eyes pierced through the darkness.

2 Days later…
She was lying down on a cold surface - a stone floor where she felt something warm and wet sticking against her skin.
The wet liquid smelled unusual…like the salt from the sea, but with a hint of metal.
She dimly remembered that she knew what it was, but the thought was fleeting. "Where?" was the only word that her mind could think of as she slowly shifted, there was a lot of pain on her back, but she couldn't remember the cause of it, or even recall anything anymore...
Not even her name...
The girl could hear noises, like people were talking. However, she could not understand what was being said as she lay there with her cheeks pressed against the red, sticky liquid that pooled underneath her.
"I think that's enough, Bella. We don't want another accident that happened five days ago… The Dark Lord will certainly not be pleased if the prisoner will be too damage to be of use to him."
"Don't worry too much, Cissa. I have already prepared all the precautionary potions before anything untoward happens."
"And what, Bellatrix? Surely, you are not going to wait for the mudblood to be on the verge of death, before you can cram every damn potion you have to revive her?" A masculine voice interjected.
"Why? Is it not a good thing to be prepared?.. Because I'm not quite finish with the filth yet," came the shrill answer from a woman close to her.
"My wife is right. That's enough for today, dear sister-in-law. We can't afford to make another slip like we did with the Potter boy. Torturing the mudblood to the brink of death will not be beneficial for you, or this family. She might as well end up dead with the way you continue to let her bleed on the floor. The Dark Lord is already furious with us as it is. He will not be forgiving if the mudblood dies sooner than he expects. You should be grateful that he's not in England, else he won't be too happy to hear what happened days ago."
There was a tense silence for a moment, where the girl tried to peek through her matted hair at the people standing not a distant away.
Her eyes caught a blurry outline of a tall man who had just spoken, and someone with dark hair, who stood beside her prone form.
"Still a spineless fool, aren't you Lucius?" The brunette woman asked mockingly. "I don't really understand what my sister sees in you. You are as breakable as that little twig you call a wand – oh, wait…I forgot that you don't have a wand anymore. It must be the other one then, where you certainly haven't proven—"
CRASH!
The sound of something shattering was loud across the vast room. The girl on the floor hazily saw that it had been the man who had thrown something at the wall. It was unclear what it was, but it was definitely something that was made of glass.
"Enough! That's enough you two!" The girl heard the other woman interfere. "We must talk about this later…For now, the mudblood must be tended to before she loses a lot of blood again."
"I still don't see why we should, Cissa. That's still not a lot of blood to be concern about… Perhaps you and your foolish husband should stop overreacting."
"We are not overreacting, sister… Normally, there is nothing to fear from that amount of blood pool. However, since the girl had been constantly starved and dehydrated in weeks - as well as thoroughly bled for the last few days - then that means she barely had enough litter of blood for your carving session today. Now, kindly please get the potions that you speak of, Bella. Else the girl's condition will become irredeemable."
"Fine, then! But I won't be the one giving her the potion! Since you and your husband seemed to be concern about that filth, you tend to her!"
The girl glimpsed the woman, who had been standing beside her, stormed out. The woman's heels clicking furiously as she strode away. Then, it was soon followed by the resounding bang of the door that announced that the woman had vacated the room.
"Narcissa, here." The man said while there was clinked of glass. "I took this from the study just right before I came here. I knew that your sister will be too reckless when it comes to the girl. The mudblood would have already been dead if we aren't here to monitor the entire proceedings."
"Good thing you have this in your pocket, Lucius…" Another clink of something small. "Because I don't think my sister was too keen in giving up her blood-replenishing potions that easily. She's beyond furious with the both of us."
There was a small pop as something was released.
"Here, drink this."
The girl on the ground stirred slightly when she felt a small, cold object being tipped into her lips. She blearily blinked her eyes to adjust her vision. There was an older woman before her, who was currently giving her an odd-flavoured liquid that she slowly gulped.
"Drink it slowly." The woman instructed with a severe tone, when the girl began coughing as the liquid unintentionally trickled down into her airway.
She sputtered.
"I don't think your sister particularly understand why we need to keep the mudblood alive, Narcissa." The girl listened to the deep rumble of the man's voice as she continued to drink the odd-tasting liquid, and trying not to cough at the same time.
"She may have thought that we were trying to save the girl from her, which wasn't the reason exactly… Be as it may, we have to keep the mudblood alive so long as the Dark Lord desires it, even when the thought of it is disturbing to our pureblood sensibilities. However, since this is another chance that the Dark Lord had given to us, then we must do our best to redeem ourselves in his eyes… I hope Bellatrix understands that three subsequent failures will not end well for our family."
The girl started to drift in and out of consciousness after the woman made her drink all of the liquid.
"Yes, you are quite right, Lucius. I agree that we must do what we can for this family. Bella, however, must be- "
The voices slowly faded out when the girl-with-no-name saw only darkness.

3 Days later….
The girl sitting on the floor giggled as she watched the little black creatures trying to drag the red, squelching object that left a wet, and crimson trail mark all across the floor.
The stench of something foul and rotting was strong inside the dank room, which came from the red lump on the floor that had been there for three days.
The girl-with-no-name couldn't recall much. Apart from seeing images of a big furry man with sharp teeth, who came and mauled the moving lump before it had stop moving.
Then the furry man had left, but not before he gave her a toothy grin with red between his teeth.
The girl-with-no-name continued to watch the black furry creatures making chittering noises. She squealed in delight when they began to play with a white ball that had a little blue circle at the centre, and pink tendrils wriggling at the bottom.
Her furry friends had been playing with it vigorously, rolling it back and forth while their chittering noises became loud, when all of a sudden, the white ball was sent rolling towards her, where it brushed against her left ankle.
The girl-with-no-name laughed heartily as she instantly picked the pale ball and began juggling it with her hands. The feel of the pink tendrils felt odd while her fingers were now stained with red.
Shortly thereafter, a door opened and then the sound of footsteps echoed around the room.
The girl was still juggling her new toy and giggling softly, when the sound abruptly stop just right in front of her.
"Your mind finally broke, I see." The sound of the man's voice went unnoticed to the girl, who was still playing. "My sister-in-law was very jubilant to inform me of this new development, since I was not here to witness it first-hand."
A tinkling laughter was the girl's only response. She was still too absorbed in her own little world.
There was a long silence, where the man carefully scrutinize the girl, who was now rolling the pale ball on the floor.
"Merlin's beard! Is that an eye you are playing, mudblood?!..How disgusting!"
There was a swish through the air as the man brandished a stick, where he proceeded to banish the girl's toy, the wet lump across the floor, and everything else that was foul and stinking.
"Ugh! What has Bellatrix had been doing this past few days! The state of the dungeon is worst since I had last visited here. Had she gone into some kind of murderous rampage? Because it seems that a few unfortunate souls had grace this room with all that stink, filth and blood splatter all across the floor and walls... And what of you, mudblood?! Why is it that there is blood all across your mouth?! Don't tell me you have been gnawing on the dead carcasses that are left here to rot?!... "
Another flicked and the girl's face was clean in a second, as well as the rest of her body.
"Indeed, you have been starved for weeks that you must be hungry enough to feed on the dead! Just the thought of it is utterly revolting! I hope the blood that I cleaned off your mouth is mostly yours."
Of course, there was no answer from the girl-with-no-name, who had begun playing with her red, red fingers.
There was another deafening silence, except for the small sounds of scampering feet as the little black creatures fled the area after the man's shouting.
"You know…when I first came here…I thought about beating you bloody with my cane. The Dark Lord hadn't been forgiving after your friends had escaped, and the torture that followed after was nothing to go by…"
His words were met with silence as the girl continue to stare off in space.
"Of course, you probably knew this when you were still sane…I waited for my sister-in-law after she was done with you. So when the night came, I thought about pommeling you until your turn blue – since I have no wand at that time... However, at the sight of you talking to the air – rambling about your adventures with Potter and Weasley. It made me pause... because you reminded me that there is still someone down here, who is suffering far worse than me - worse than what the Dark Lord put me through. And because of that, I had gotten an immense satisfaction of seeing you reduced to the state of conjuring hallucinations and prattling on incessantly…The sight of you descending into insanity – where there was once an intelligent mind in your head - somehow gave me the distraction that I needed from wallowing in self-pity…"
Stormy-grey eyes coolly observed the girl on the floor, before saying.
"Yes, I have to admit that you are quite bright for a mudblood…even my son had been annoyed that you were rank higher in class than him. And judging by the tales that you have regaled to me in the past few weeks, I can finally see why Potter had survived this long… The boy would have certainly been dead without your brains to reign in his impulsiveness."
The girl-with-no-name suddenly started humming a soft tune while she rocked herself from side to side.
"Hmn…hnnn..hmn..hhhnnn.."
The man pause once again, gazing at her with an undetermined look.
"But to tell you the truth, mudblood, there were other reasons why I came here often," The man admitted freely – free because the girl no longer had a presence of mind to judge him.
"It's because you do tell such interesting tales…tales that – shall we say - most of my fellow brethren will kill for."
The blonde man began pacing while he looked deep in thought.
"My sister-in-law is too preoccupied with only the thoughts of torturing you that she failed to think no further than that. Indeed, she's demented as they come for a woman of noble birth… Nonetheless, this is a good thing, when it means that she still doesn't know yet what the Dark Lord had hid in her Gringotts vault - if your theories are correct – then the cup is a horcrux."
The blonde man rambled as he stopped his pacing to look at the girl once again, who was now smiling absentmindedly and twirling a lock of her knotted hair.
"A horcrux, huh?...such a dark thing to have. But, if it is true then…it means that the Dark Lord is very much immortal… And since I now know his secret, I am certain that he will not hesitate to kill me because of it…even Bella is not informed of this fact, which could only mean one thing. The Dark Lord doesn't want anyone to know of his little secret…"
Another thoughtful pause.
"Perhaps it's a good thing that your mind is already broken beyond repair. The knowledge that you have unwittingly divulge to me will someday be beneficial for my family...and I don't want the Dark Lord finding out that I know about his terrible secret if he happens to delve into your mind…Apart from that, I am very interested about what Dumbledore had left in your hands...A children's book written in ancient runes, you said?..."
There was no answer, of course, from the other occupant of the room, except for the ever-present empty gaze plastered on her gaunt face.
"Although I'm a little surprised and disappointed that you haven't figured it out yet…For I believe it must be connected to what the Dark Lord had been looking into for months. And apparently, his current preoccupation is something more important to him that he hadn't even bothered with you at all. He must have forgotten that you are even here, girl."
The girl-with-no-name blinked, her head cocking to the side as if she had heard something.
"I wonder if you would have discovered what the Dark Lord was looking for if you had escaped." The blonde man mused out loud. "Too bad that your mind had already shattered before I can listen to your theories of this matter."
Silence reigned.
"Perhaps I shall have this dungeon cleaned by the house elf twice in every week, and have Dinky remove the dead before it began to rot…The thought of coming here and being greeted by the sight of you chewing on some bloody bits and pieces is enough to give me nightmares. That will be too gruesome even for me…and after seeing you playing with an eyeball, I can't just imagine what else you might do. It was already disturbing as it is."
The man momentarily looked pensive as he inspected the thin and dirty girl, who was now twiddling her thumb.
"Mayhap cleaning you up often will be good too. I can't handle that nauseating stench the clings to you every time I come here... Perhaps a bath thrice a week? The house elf will do it of course. Dinky had already tended to your wounds for weeks to prevent infection - and had taken care of your 'other vile matters'. Surely, the house elf would be too happy to do this little task as well."
There was a few seconds of silence…and then, without warning, the man let out a soft chuckle as if recalling something.
"If I remember correctly, you told me that you had set-up a campaign for the house elves around your fifth year, wasn't it? What was it called again? STEW?..."
The blonde man laughed out loud, and the girl on the floor suddenly jerked up at the sound, finally noticing the man's presence, who had been talking to her in a while.
Lucid brown eyes met a pair of grey eyes.
"You are very amusing for a mudblood. The first time I heard of it, I just couldn't stop laughing…" And once again, the blonde man chuckled softly before continuing. "After listening to you talk inanely for days, I now quite understand how your mind works – or rather, worked... And I will be perfectly honest, your naivety and sense of justice wouldn't have survive in this world. However, after enduring most of your hallucinated-talk, I do have to commend you for your passion and resilience…Although in the end, those at power shall always win."
The girl's attention were now focused on the man, but she remained silent.
"Perhaps I shall talk to you next time, mudblood. My wife might notice that I'm missing again." The tall man said as he stepped back. "Even though she's probably assumed that I'm down at the study and getting drunk again, which I will have to do after I leave here…"
The man turned to leave, but then stopped to glanced at her –to the-girl-with-no-name.
"Don't you think it's ironic that I'm the one who is talking to you while you listened to me this time?... Or even the fact that I'm here talking to you at all?...If you still had an intact mind, mudblood, for sure we won't have this one-sided nightly conversation…"
The girl's eyes followed the man as he began walking.
He turned to her one final time as he carefully opened the dungeon. His eyes taking in a serious glint at his next revelation.
"And I have to say this...I always came here the first few days because I find your voice soothing and your adventure stories enlightening... That was the other reasons why I sought you out, even if such action is just utterly pathetic even for me."
The man swung the door opened and left, but not before he murmured.
"The next time, however… our roles will be reverse."
As the sound of footsteps faded...
In the pitch-black darkness, the girl-with-no-name grinned eerily.

TO BE CONTINUED….
I really want to know what you think! I know my story is going to be disturbing, but I hope I didn't scare a lot of people away.

Preview for Third chapter:
"Please, my lord.. I-I have a wife…," pleaded the blonde man while he glanced at said-wife, who had turned pale at the Dark Lord's order while his son look downright horrified.
"And surely you won't have a wife, Lucius. If you don't do what I have requested of you."
"My lord, this is—"
"Are you not ready to redeem yourself to me, Lucius?!"
"Yes, my lord but-!"
"Then, do as I say! And suck the mudblood's cunt!"
And at the order, all the portraits in the Malfoy gallery, erupted into a series of angry movements as they shouted and protested at the order, but there was no sound that came out from the furious deceased Malfoy portraits, after they were previously silenced by the Dark Lord not too long ago.
The black-cloaked figures that congregated around the huge gallery looked on in silent horror while some had a look of disturbing fascination on their faces.
"Do it, Lucius, or I will kill your wife and son." The Dark Lord threatened.
The blonde man could only stare helplessly at his wife and son, who look extremely upset and frightened at the same time.
Even when the Malfoy's reputation was already in tatters. However, this act alone would be the final nail in the coffin.
If the Dark Lord said to go FUCK the mudblood, then Lucius Malfoy would… because he would do anything when the lives of his family was at stake.
So, Lucius Malfoy followed his Lord's command.
To stain the Malfoy name by fucking a mudblood in front of his wife, son and pureblood peers.
...
It was Fornication Under the Command of the King so it seemed

A/N: I told you that this story is going to be very disturbing, and contains very descriptive lemons, gore and what not.
In My Waking Dreams Book Cover
(Description: The picture of both Hermione and Lucius takes up most of the cover, with Hermione looking either scared, disgusted or horrified, while Lucius looks like he was about to either say something to her, or kiss her. The background is actually the Malfoy Dungeon, but it's not clear in the cover.)
In My Waking Dreams Banner
(Description: Well, in the banner, you can see more of the details that you will imagine in the story. The banner is more disturbing because I purposely put the blood and the corpse there to make it more horrifying that it actually is...ahaha...Anyway, in the picture, you can see both Hermione and Lucius took most of the right part of the banner, with Hermione looking either scared, disgusted or horrified, while Lucius looks like he was about to either say something to her, or kiss her. And on the right side, you see both Harry and Ron staring at both Hermione and Lucius, and of course they are purposely edited to make them look translucent since they are from Hermione's waking dreams 'hallucinations' after all. And the most horrifying sight is the picture of a dead-looking corpse woman, all pale and with a bloody front sitting on the floor - just between the translucent images of Harry and Ron. The dead woman is without arms, with a lot of blood spatter in the walls behind her, and some blood hand-prints above the walls. So I warn you, if you don't like disturbing images, don't click the link.)
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In My Waking Dreams