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Nightmares	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12270 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this writing.

Chapter List
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Dream Memory

Hermione woke with a start, her heart pounding with fear as she sat up, and looked around the half circle of people staring at her. At least, she thought they were staring at her. They all wore Death Eater hoods, so she couldn’t be sure, but they were all at least facing her.
“Glad you could join us.” A cold voice drawled from behind her.
She spun, facing Lord Voldemort from the cold stone floor, looking up into red, merciless eyes.
“Your friends left without you. What a pity.” Voldemort lamented, looking not at all displeased. “And I find myself greatly vexed by their escape. It seems that once again, Potter has managed to elude me, with seconds to spare. Tell me, Mudblood, where has Potter gone?”
“I-I don’t know.” Hermione sputtered, realizing that indeed, Harry and Ron had disapparated away, right as Lucius grabbed her away from them. If they were smart, they wouldn’t come back for her. Her eyes watered as she realized she was about to die. They were going to kill her, and all she could hope for was that it was quick, and painless.
“Very well.” Voldemort drawled, his red eyes reading the truth of her statement. He looked up, toward his followers, his face twisting in a sick smile. “Do what you will with her.”
He turned in a swish of black robes, and disappeared, leaving Hermione alone with the Death Eaters.
“Hold her!” Bellatrix’s voice screamed, as she stepped forward from the crowd, her unmasked face twisted with insanity, and glee.
“No, NO!” Hermione screamed as a pair of Death Eaters jumped on her, holding her to the floor as Bellatrix approached. She sat on top of the younger girl, staring madly down into her face, as she pulled a vial from her pocket, and held it up for Hermione to see.
“Know what this is?” Bellatrix teased, wiggling the small bottle back and forth. Hermione whimpered, unable to see it well. “Good, it’s more fun if you don’t know.” Bellatrix grabbed her face, forcing the girl’s mouth open, and poured the liquid in, quickly clamping a cold hand over her mouth and nose, forcing her to swallow it, or suffocate. Hermione swallowed.
“Let her up!” Bellatrix ordered, standing back. The two large males holding her stood, and re-joined the crowd as it collectively watched Hermione shrink away from them, and against the wall, getting as far as possible from the mass of black.
“Catenocollar!” Bella pointed her wand at Hermione, and she felt a heavy weight fall on her shoulders, the cold press of metal, and the clanking of chains falling to the floor. Her hands flew to her throat, feeling the stiff steel collar that encircled her neck, and looked down to see it connected to a long chain that was anchored to the wall. Sobs rose in her chest as she stared at her restraints, and back to the Death Eaters.
“What did you give her, Lestrange?” Asked one of the hooded figures in a deep raspy voice. The dark eyed woman leaned over and whispered the answer, to a rash of laughter and hoots of enjoyment from those that heard. Hermione tried to put on a brave face as Bellatrix approached her again, wand in hand, and wicked gleam in her eyes.
“I can’t wait to see you beg.” Bellatrix sneered down at her, grabbing a handful of her hair, and tilting her head back. Hermione grabbed at Bellatrix’s fingers, trying to relinquish the pulling grip on her scalp.
“How DARE you touch me!” Bellatrix screamed, waving her wand again, forcing Hermione’s hands off her. Hermione felt the cold metal surround her wrists, and struggled against the chains that held her arms down, the short length connected to the floor, and through her cuffs, behind her back. Pulling at one moved the other arm painfully behind her. She couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her face as Bellatrix laughed, and spat in her face, humiliating the helpless girl.
“Who wants to go first?” Bellatrix asked, yanking Hermione’s head back farther, and displaying her like an offering to the Death Eaters. Several dark forms separated from the half-circle, and approached her, causing more sobs to rise from her throat.
“Are you a virgin, Mudblood? Will you bleed when they take you?” Bellatrix taunted, making Hermione cry even harder as she realized what exactly was about to happen.
“Please don’t…” She sobbed, pulling uselessly at her bonds, the rattling of her chains making a few of the incoming forms laugh. Bellatrix cackled with glee as Hermione fought against the chains.
“Aunt Bella…” The whole room seemed to freeze as one of the dark forms stepped forward, and pulled his hood off, revealing his identity to everyone.
“Draco. Don’t you dare try to stop me having my fun!” Bellatrix threatened, lifting her wand.
“Oh, I had no intention of that. I was just going to ask if I could go first. I have a score to settle with this particular uppity Mudblood.” Draco sneered, staring down at Hermione with loathing. She looked pleadingly up into his eyes.
“Please, Malfoy… Help me…” She begged, hoping he had some conscience left, and he’d help her escape.
“Help you? After six years of putting up with you, Potter, and Weasley, I’d say you need this lesson, Granger.” Draco drawled, his eyes cold, his face full of distaste. Tears slid down her face as Bellatrix let go of her hair, and stepped away, smiling at her nephew.
“Go ahead Draco. Take what you’re owed.” She cackled again, and pushed the other Death Eaters back, giving Draco his undisputed turn.
“I love virgins, Granger, so tight, and inexperienced.” He taunted, turning his back on the crowd that seemed to love the way he was mocking her situation.
“I’m so sorry, Granger. If it wasn’t me, it’d be them. I’ll be as gentle as I can.” Draco whispered, his eyes finally showing remorse. Then, louder, “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”
“Please, no. Don’t!” Hermione begged, pulling again at her restraints, while Draco’s hands fumbled with his pants. He looked nauseous as he undid his slacks, and she saw the trembling of his hands, and as he pulled his boxers down slightly, she saw he was totally flaccid.
“Bite it, and I’ll hex you.” Draco threatened to the pleasure of the room, grimacing down at Hermione apologetically.
“No!” Hermione screamed, shaking the chains noisily, and jerking her head away from him.
“I’m so sorry. Imperius.” He flicked his wand at her discreetly, and the world fogged away, taking away her fear, and control. She could almost hear the commands in her head, telling her to cry, scream, struggle. She did everything the silky voice told her, unable to remember what she’d been doing, or who was speaking to her. The soft, persuasive voice told her to lie still, and close her eyes. The fog disappeared, and there was blackness, and silence.
“NO!” Hermione screamed, sitting up, gasping in air, horrified. Tears were falling down her face, and her chest hurt as though she’d been run through.
“‘Ermione, wha’s wrong?” Ron sat up, yawning, reaching a hand out to comfort her. She jumped as his hand slid over her back, and stumbled from the bed, unable to hear his soothing words through her panic.
She’d had snippets of the same nightmare for months, since the end of the war, but never had she dreamt it in full, from start to finish like this before. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore. It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory that someone had tried to take from her. That Malfoy had tried to take from her. She ran to the closet, and pulled clothes out, getting dressed as quickly as possible, not realizing that Ron was standing behind her, worried, asking if she was okay, what she was doing.
“Hermione, what’s wrong?” He half shouted, grabbing her shoulders.
“Nothing!” Hermione lied, spinning, and shaking his hands off, grabbing up her wand from the nightstand. She couldn’t go back to sleep. She couldn’t snuggle back up to her boyfriend when she now knew what had happened. She had to see him. She had to know what else he’d made her forget. She’d been there for over a month. She had no doubt that what she’d dreamed had not been the only time she’d been abused. She could only remember snippets of her time there. Waking up in the cellar, on a stone floor, in a plush room. Nothing important. She’d told everyone that she’d just been held prisoner, and hadn’t given details. She hadn’t admitted that even she didn’t know what’d really happened. And now that she had an idea of what it was, she felt tainted, unwhole. She needed to know what exactly had happened to her. If she knew, she could gain control over it, let it heal.
“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ve got to go see someone. I’ll be back.” Hermione promised, pulling on her shoes, and apparating away before Ron could ask questions, or insist he tag along. The sucking black vortex crushed her in it’s vice, and dropped her right on the steps of Malfoy Manor. She shivered, even though it was a warm August night. She used the large bronze knocker to bang on the door, repeating the motion four times before the door was opened.
“Yes, Miss?”
She looked down to see a bat-eared house-elf staring up at her with sleepy eyes, one tiny fist rubbing at a gigantic lid.
“I need to see Malfoy- er, Draco, please.” She said, realizing that everyone here was ‘Malfoy’.
“He’s sleeping, miss. Can I takes a message, miss?” The elf said, her huge brown eyes looking expectant.
“No. I need to speak with him now, please.” Hermione insisted, feeling as though if she walked away she’d never come back, and she’d never be able to go home.
“Alright, miss, please come in.” The sleepy elf said, holding the door open, and Hermione stepped through, thanking the small creature. She was led to a plushly furnished sitting room, and the house elf lit a few candelabras for her to see by.
“What’s miss’s name, please?” The elf asked, turning back to Hermione.
“Hermione Granger.” She said with more confidence than she felt.
“Please wait here, I’ll fetch Master Draco.” She bowed out of the room, and Hermione could hear her bare feet slapping against the stones of the entrance hall as she ran to get Malfoy. Hermione sat uncomfortably on the edge of a large squishy couch, trying to even her breathing and calm her racing heart. The Manor smelled familiar, and it made her fingers tremble, the soft candlelight and elegant decor bringing back another flash of memories of her captivity.
“Granger, what the bloody hell do you want?” A cold voice called from the doorway, and she looked up to see a rumpled Draco, wearing pajamas, and glaring his best frown at her.
“I needed to talk to you. About what happened-” She choked, and looked at his feet, seeing black slippers, and a tapping toe. “What happened while I was here.”
“Nothing happened. You were kept in the cellar, and kept mostly unconscious.” He said blandly, as though even he believed the lie.
“No, I remembered, Malfoy. You imperiused me. I need to know what really happened.” She said, standing, and putting her hands on her hips.
“No.” His eyes went from sulky to frigid, his voice hollow. “You don’t.” He said, turning away from her, and taking a few steps from the room.
“Wait!” Hermione called, rushing across the room, and grabbing his arm. “Please!”
She could hear the desperation in her own voice, and let go of him as he turned, discreetly reaching for her wand, hoping he wasn’t planning on cursing her- again.
“You really want to know what happened, Granger? You want to see it for yourself?” He asked, his eyes narrowing viciously. She nodded mutely, setting her face in a determined scowl.
“Fine. Follow me.” He said, and strode away, across the large hall, and toward another door. He opened it, and gestured her inside. She followed wordlessly, stepping cautiously into the room, and looking around at the many shelves that lined the walls, the cupboards, and desks. The glass cabinets held many bottles, artifacts, and what she was certain were cursed items.
Draco closed the door behind them, and went to a glass cabinet that was shining softly. He opened it, and pulled a shallow marble basin from inside, setting it on the desk.
“You’ve got a Pensieve?” She asked interestedly, moving closer, and inspecting the swirling substance.
“It’s my mother’s.” Draco admitted, and pulled his wand from the waistband of his pajamas, touching the tip to his temple. Hermione watched as a long stream of silver flowed from his almost matching hair, and into the basin. He repeated the motion a few times, finally looking at Hermione again.
“Are you sure?” He asked, a note of worry in his voice. Hermione couldn’t tell if it was worry for her, or for his own image. She nodded, and he poked the Pensieve with his wand, bringing up the beginning. He plunged right in, and Hermione followed, dipping her face into the memories, and immersing herself in what Draco knew.
A/N: So... while I've been having writer's block for another of my stories, "Scattered", the ending of this one made itself available to my stupid brain, and I, of course, had to finish it up. I actually started this one before "Scattered", but didn't know if I was actually going to finish it or not, and now that it's going to be finished, I can finally post it without worry of leaving you all waiting for an ending indefinitely.

I'm going to be binge-posting this one, so please mark your places between reads!
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Nightmares