Hermione was nearly petrified as the one man in the world that she had become afraid of dragged her up the richly-carpeted stairs that led to the room where she had been imprisoned before.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” he hissed in her ear, his hot breath making her shiver with fear.
Once they were inside the room, Fynn pulled a small silver rectangle from his robes.
Hermione instinctively reached for her wand, but it wasn’t there, of course.
Fynn sneered at Hermione before he pressed a button on the side of the box. A female voice came out of it, and Hermione realized almost instantly what it was: a tape recorder where some girl’s breathy voice was saying the most vulgar things about what she wanted to do to Fynn once she got him alone.
Hermione couldn’t say a word; she was still Silenced. The tape went on for several minutes, the only sound in the room.
When the tape was over, Fynn sneered at her and walked towards the door. “I’ll be back later, sweet, and you can make good on those promises,” he said, smirking and winking as he inwardly congratulated his own ingenuity.
Hermione was frozen with horror; there must be some kind of listening device in the room that Fynn was showing off for by playing the tape.
Once he heard the door close, Draco Malfoy removed the earpiece of the Extendable Ears from his ear and pulled it away from the window.
There was nothing further—Fynn was telling the truth, and Granger had lied to him. She was as much a slut as she had shown him that night when she was drunk. That letter had said smoldering things that would have turned on any man—things that were so dirty that Malfoy wondered where she had learned such language.
He shrugged and pushed all thoughts of the whore out of his mind in favor of a more palatable thought—what former Death Eater he would capture next.
Hermione turned the room upside down looking for anything that she could use to escape. As before, there was nothing. The silencing spell remained on her for an hour before it wore off on its own.
Twinkle the house elf suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed, and it startled Hermione half to death.
“Would miss like some food?” asked the elf. “Master has forbidden Twinkle to give miss any alcohol, so sorry.”
“Twinkle, can you leave Malfoy Manor?” Hermione asked suddenly.
The elf looked frightened. “No, miss—it is forbidden.”
Hermione sighed. “My cat is alone in my apartment and I have to feed him,” she said sadly.
Twinkle brightened. “Twinkle can bring miss’s cat here!” she exclaimed. Then with a wave of the elf’s skinny arm, a terrified cat landed on the bed.
Hermione’s cat jumped into her arms, digging its claws into her arms. Hermione laughed, not caring about the scratches that were being left on her arms. She kissed her cat over and over on its face and neck.
“Thank you, Twinkle!”
The house elf bowed before vanishing. Once Twinkle left, Hermione wished that she had remembered to ask for food. She was nearly faint from hunger, as she hadn’t eaten in over a day.
She lay on the bed with Crookshanks curled up beside her, napping.
Some time later, the door opened, and Hermione woke up instantly from her half-asleep state.
Fynn was back.
“Now that Malfoy’s listening devices are gone, I can do what I want with you,” he breathed, coming up alongside the bed.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” she screamed, kicking him with both legs in the chest. Her kick didn’t do much damage, but Crookshanks leapt at Fynn, hissing and spitting, his claws outstretched to slash at the man’s fleshy face.
Screaming, Fynn fled the room, locking the door quickly behind him.
Hermione flung her body at the door, trying to break it, but it was solid wood and she was weak from hunger and stress.
“Damn it!” she yelled. She couldn’t have just been content to file papers, NO, she had to go and get herself kidnapped. TWICE!
Harry was going to kill her…
When Twinkle brought her food an hour later, Hermione asked the elf if she could get Malfoy to come up.
“No, miss. Twinkle is not high enough ranked to speak to the master. Twinkle can ask Diddle, the head house elf, to ask Master to talk to miss, if miss would like it.”
“Yes, please do that,” said Hermione. She was desperate to talk to Malfoy—she hadn’t written that letter, whatever it said.
No sooner had Twinkle disappeared than the door opened again. It was Fynn, looking freshly healed. Faint scars across his face showed where Crookshanks had hurt him, and Fynn looked murderous.
“You are going to pay for that,” he said quietly, trapping her between him and the wall.
Hermione flinched as he laid one hand on her cheek, but she made no other movement. She had locked Crookshanks in the bathroom so that if Fynn came back, he wouldn’t take his anger out on the cat.
His fingers ran coarsely over her face in a bruising caress.
Hermione remained still as he explored every crevice of her face. Fynn stepped back.
“Strip,” he said firmly.
“Does that ever work?” she asked him. “No wonder you have problems with women.”
Fynn lunged forward and gripped her neck with both hands, applying pressure. He forgot to guard his groin again, and Hermione lashed out with her foot, connecting with his most sensitive area. Fynn bellowed and crashed to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes.
Hermione ran to the bathroom door and flung it open, scooping up her beloved cat in her arms as she tore out of the door to the room.
Hermione’s feet pounded down the steps, her breaths coming in panicked gasps. She barely could draw enough air to sustain her frantic pace, much less scream for help.
Once she got to the first landing, she heard heavy breathing behind her and she sped up. By the second landing, Fynn had caught up to her and with a vicious blow slammed her into the wall.
With an angry meow, Crookshanks fell out of Hermione’s arms and shot down the remaining stairs.
Hermione was nearly knocked unconscious, but she managed to hold on. Her head spun with pain.
Fynn’s eyes were practically red with rage and he struck forward with his mouth, locking over her lips and cutting them with his sharp teeth.
Hermione whimpered as his tongue plundered her mouth ruthlessly.
Fynn slid one of his knees between her legs, preventing her from kicking him again. When he was through with her mouth, Fynn moved his mouth to her neck, biting her skin punishingly.
Hermione struggled with all her might, but she was confined by his body.
Footsteps approached just after Fynn punched Hermione in the stomach.
“Hey, maybe we shouldn’t disturb,” said another voice quietly.
Hermione’s slightly unfocused eyes managed to see two other Hunters several yards away. “Help—” she said feebly, trying to wriggle away from her attacker.
One of the Hunters came closer.
“Dan, I don’t think—”
“Oh, shit, he’s doing it again,” said the other.
Both Hunters ran toward them and pulled Fynn away from Hermione, who sunk to the floor, her legs like jelly.
“You know we can’t touch the girls, Fynn!”
Fynn roared and tried to get free from the Hunter holding him back.
“What do we do?” asked the one named Dan.
The other leaned down and picked up Hermione in his arms. “I guess we better bring her to the boss.”
“Please take me home,” said Hermione miserably.
The Hunters walked swiftly down the rest of the stairs, one holding Hermione and the other dragging a furious Fynn.
When Draco saw them enter his office he stood and yelled at them, “Bloody hell! I don’t want any part in this! Just let the slut fuck the German and leave me out of it!”
Several tears fell from Hermione’s brown eyes, stinging the cuts on her lips.
“No, boss, it’s not like that,” Dan was quick to say. “Fynn was about to rape her—”
“I’ve heard that before,” said Draco coldly.
“Malfoy,” said Hermione, looking at him. “I didn’t ever want him. I never wrote that letter, and I didn’t invite him to my house; that voice was a tape recording! I wouldn’t say any of those things. I certainly didn’t punch myself in the face and stomach!”
“Granger, you lie with every fiber of your being,” Draco pronounced.
“What is wrong with you?!” yelled Hermione. She pulled her robes apart recklessly, not caring that she was exposing much of her body. “Look at this!” A dark purple bruise was forming where she had recently been hit in the stomach.
She ran her tongue over her lips nervously, wincing as the cuts burned.
“If Fynn’s being rough with her, then it is because she asked for it,” Draco decreed and Hermione flinched at his cold tone, closing her robes angrily.
“Why do you hate me so much?” she asked.
“I despise liars, Granger,” said Draco icily, completely hiding the hot rush of guilt that had gone through him when he had seen the terrible bruise where she had been viciously punched. He had been wrong.
“Oh, how noble of you, Prince of Slytherin,” sneered Hermione.
Draco gestured for the other Hunters to leave and they did; Fynn made an obscene hand gesture to Hermione as he left, which Draco didn’t notice.
“When I arrest you, it will be the happiest day of my life,” said Hermione.
“Is that all?” Draco said, sounding bored. “Shall I have Fynn bring you back to your room now?”
Hermione threw away her pride and was reduced to begging. “Please don’t send me back to him. He hasn’t raped me yet, but he wasn’t that far from it last time and he will this time; he’s furious.”
“I heard what you said, Granger,” Draco revealed, his face still coldly impassive, “all that shit about what you were going to do to Fynn in bed. What a slut.”
This last accusation was just too much.
“I’m not a slut! I haven’t even—” Hermione abruptly stopped, flushing hotly.
Malfoy smirked gleefully, guessing what she had been about to say. “You’re a virgin, Granger?”
Hermione blushed even deeper. “So what? It’s better than being a whore!” she accused him blatantly.
“Do go on,” drawled Draco.
“How many girls did you screw at Hogwarts, Malfoy?” accused Hermione. “Merlin, you had a different girl running out of your dormitory every day!”
“Are you done?” Malfoy asked. He approached her, now quite sure that he had been wrong about her.
Hermione was quiet as he came close to her until he was barely a foot away from her face. Draco put his thumb under his chin and forced her to look into his eyes. His gaze roamed over the bleeding cuts on her lips to the bruise forming under her eye.
He ran his finger over her lips, watching as tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his skin. Hermione winced.
Draco pulled away, seeming satisfied with her reaction, and his manner became almost brisk. He held up a vial of blue potion that he had pulled from his pocket.
“Drink this,” he said, his breath caressing her moist lips like a warm breeze. To her suspicious gaze, he said impatiently, “It won’t hurt you.”
So Hermione drank it and she immediately felt slightly dizzy.
Draco spoke, and his voice seemed to ring throughout her whole being. Every other sound vanished.
Draco held her up so that she didn’t fall. His eyes bored into hers, seeming to be the only solid thing in a world that was suddenly spinning. “You’re going to sleep now, Granger, and when you wake up you’ll be back home. I’ll take care of Fynn. Forget about me, and forget about the Hunters.”
Spinning, spinning, spinning... “My…cat,” she said with an effort.
Without even asking what she meant, Draco summoned Crookshanks and banished it to Hermione’s apartment.
Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed and she fell limp in Draco’s arms.
Did you like it? Please let me know with a review! Thanks for reading!