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Prisoner of War by LadyKrobley
Chapter 3 : Chapter 3
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 5

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Day 31;

Hermione had been here for a long time; she didn't even know why she continued to go through all the torture she had been enduring through recently.

She was waiting for something to happen. She didn't know what she was waiting for, but she kept waiting anyway.

Hermione just felt so tired. She was so tired of being tortured and being laughed at. She just wanted to sleep and never wake up again.

A deep, heavy sigh erupted from within her throat as she continued to stare off into the nothingness that surrounded her.

Could she just give up? The question that seemed to have forged its way into her mind was constantly testing her strength.

But of course, she could never give up. She got a lot of people to fight for… to live for. Harry and Ron were of her main concerns as of late.

Oh, Ron. She missed him. She should have told him her feelings sooner. He should have known before this war had even coerced into something much worse, before the agonising pain had erupted into her life and stole the happiness like a thief in the night.

This war had ruined everything. She was probably going to die here; it wouldn't be of her own doing. They are going to have to kill her and not without a fight.

Day 35;

Hermione sat up instinctively after she heard rustling from the other side. She begrudgingly rubbed her eyes with her balled up fist and narrowed her eyes, if only to see what was on the other side of the room.

She then remembered groggily that a girl came into the cell after being captured and tortured yesterday.

The girl scrambled to her feet and rushed over to where Hermione was sitting. "You're Hermione Granger," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone and Hermione could hear the smile on her face.

Hermione stared at her blankly. There were no emotions to be brought to her face. She could see the girl's shoulders slump as Hermione didn't greet her with a sweet welcome and a warm embrace.

What did she expect? That Hermione would jump up with joy for seeing the girl. Hermione knew the girl's fate and there was no point in showing tactful happiness.

"Everyone is looking for you, though some don't believe the Death Eaters when they say you are alive."

She nodded at the girl urging her to continue. She wanted to know what was going on out there.

"With every raid, the elder fighters say they are getting closer and closer to you."

Hermione perked up at this. The news brought her hope.

"Wait till I get out of this place, they will be so happy that their efforts aren't for nothing."

Hermione fought the urge to laugh in the girls face. How naïve of her to think she would be able to escape here after one day. She would be lucky if she lasted another 24 hours in this place.

Although she might be a special case like herself, but that was highly unlikely.

Day 42; Hour 9

Her stomach growled gently in an almost pleading manner.

It had been weeks since she had eaten something decent. Hermione was used to body pains though. The lack of proper sleep gave her reoccurring headaches, and her stomach jolted with pain from the lack of nutrition quite often.

But she learned to ignore it, or embrace it; at least the pain meant she was alive. That is better than nothing right?

Hermione gently, or as gently as she could, ran her fingers through her hair. She could feel the taut knots building in the back of her head. The dirt and grime was becoming a permanent stain in her hair, and she wasn't sure her hair would ever be the same again.

Oh how she would love a bath or a brush. Maybe she should cut it all off when she got out of here. She let that thought linger as she began to let out a weak sob from deep inside her chest.

She didn't know if she would ever get out of here. It scared her. She wasn't ready to die. She wanted to live past this war, past the hurt and pain that resided in the eyes of so many people.

Day 42; Hour 14

"Get up, Mudblood. It's time to say your final goodbyes to this place." The Death Eater said as he entered the cell and with a swift motion gripped at her arm and forced her out of the cell.

She heard these words and Hermione immediately panic had begun to etch its way into her thoughts. She began to shake uncontrollably and her brain was racing with worry and fear.

They can't do this to her. It just wasn't possible that they would kill her and without warning. Maybe that was the warning.

The big doors were pushed open and she was instantly blinded by the light that cascaded over her face. The sun was so bright; she hadn't seen daylight in so long. It seemed to be mid-afternoon. She started to inwardly laugh at herself. Here she was about to die and she was contemplating the time of day.

Hermione was thrown to the gravel road; she let out a whimper after her palms made contact with some jagged stones poking out. She thought she had just sprained her wrist trying to catch herself. She looked up and saw Draco Malfoy staring down at her - void of all emotions.

All she could think about was whether death was painless or does she suffer before her body shuts down? It freaked her out how just two words could end something as complex as life. It scared her even more that these people could end it without a second thought or remorse afterwards.

Hermione kept staring at Malfoy; he stared back at her. She saw movement all around her but she couldn't look away from him. He seems more troubled lately. The bags under his eyes indicated that he hadn't been getting enough sleep or nutrition; either would bring him to looking like a shell of himself. She was brought out of her thoughts of his appearance when someone spoke.

"Do it, Draco, so we can leave before they get here. We can't risk any more time being wasted here."

Draco was going to kill her. No. No, it can't be him. He can't do it. But she was proven wrong when he lifted his wand and points it to her face. Her body tensed up and she closed her eyes; tears began staining her cheeks.

She felt the impact of the spell and everything went black.

Day 43; Hour 2

A dull throb was pounding in her head, She didn't want to open her eyes; is this what death felt like?

She open my eyes and realised she was in another dungeon.

She began to laugh. She didn't know why but she did and she didn't stop. She thought they were going to kill her; they just relocated her.

She wondered why she wasn't able to know where the location was. It's not like she was going off and telling anyone. Death Eaters are bloody confusing.

Hermione sat there and embraced the fact that she had been spared her life. She didn't care how confusing the Death Eaters were. She was still alive and that's all that mattered to her at this point.

Hermione sat up from her lying position and looked around the room. She was unable to see anything around her due to the darkness that surrounded her. It was always dark and that scared her now more than ever.

The door was thrown open, and it startled her into standing position. Light began to shine through the small room. Draco Malfoy walked in red-faced.

She couldn't tell what emotion he was feeling. It was like a mix of anger, relief, and anguish all mixed up in one.

She had so many questions for him, but didn't know how to ask him. Why is he coming to see her? Why was she still here, alive?

Draco was walking towards her with his wand out, pointed at her. A red light escaped the tip and the wall behind her was singed with black; she yelped and jumped a few kilometres in the air. Why did he just do that? My unasked questioned was answered before she got the actual chance to ask it.

"My father is dead."

Hermione stared at him. Why is he telling her this?

She wanted to laugh at his face and tell him his father deserved to be dead, but it doesn't escape her lips. She could tell he was emotional about it.

"I'm sorry." It came out before she was able to stop herself or think about what she spoke before she had spoken it.

He looks up at her, shock present in his expression. "Don't be. He was a sick, cruel man. He deserved it."

He stared at her for a few more seconds before speaking again, he sighed. "I can see in your eyes that you have many questions, why don't you ask me?"

"I really am sorry. He may have been those things you said, but he was still your family and I can understand how upsetting that can be."

"I am not upset that he died! I am pissed that I wasn't able to kill him myself," he spat venomously at Hermione and it caused her to back away a bit.

She stared at him in shock. Why would he want to kill his own father? Again it was like he was reading her mind and he answered her unasked question aloud.

"He made my life hell, forcing me to do things I had no plans of doing myself; it's his fault that I'm the way that I am. I wish I was able to end his life, like he ended mine. Your lover, Weasley, killed him." He spoke the last part as an afterthought.

Hermione's face turned a slight shade of pink when he mentioned Ron as her lover.

"Ron isn't my lover." she said softly, tucking a ruthless stray behind her ear.

She cleared her throat and looked back up at him. She began to speak in a stronger tone. "Why am I still alive and being held captive?"

"They don't want to lose this war, and they are going to great lengths to make sure Voldemort's plan is successful, even with him dead. You're still alive because they think it will lure your precious Potter to them. They are always going on and on about you being alive; bragging about how they were able to capture you and how they torture you."

She couldn't believe he actually told her all this. She didn't really expect him to be so reluctant to tell her about their Death Eater plans.

"Why are you telling me this? You are one of them," she said this in a whisper. Not really believing what she just said, she was a little shocked at what she was thinking.

How could she entertain thoughts that Draco was becoming good? It wasn't possible. He was a horrible person and he didn't deserve to be forgiven for anything that he had done; he didn't have the right to explain himself or his actions. He just didn't. Bad people aren't deserving of that.

He didn't seem phased about what she had just said and that proved her point. He didn't get angry; he was completely void of any emotion he might be feeling and that annoyed her. She couldn't read him.

He was a closed book -under lock and key- filled with so many secrets and emotions that didn't want to be discovered. She wanted to figure him out, but it was just too hard.

"You asked, so I'm answering. You've been here for over a month. A lot has happened; a lot of people are dead."

"Do you know of anyone whom we went to school with that's dead?" She didn't think she could handle hearing people that she knew or loved were dead. It was already hard enough knowing she was stuck in this cell not able to do anything to help the Order… that so many people are dying and she stuck in here with a few scratches from being tortured.

"Fred Weasley's dead. My father killed him, which is why your lover Weasley killed my father. Our old DADA Professor, the werewolf, he died a few weeks ago along with his wife."

Hermione lost it. After hearing one of the Weasley's was dead and Remus and Tonks. She didn't want to hear anymore. She couldn't handle it. She was sobbing, and she had fallen against the wall and began to slide down; she pulled her knees up to her chest and just let cries of pain out.

Malfoy sat there beside her, not saying anything just staring up at the ceiling while she cried.

That's all she needed. To know someone was giving her company. She wished she had Ron to hold her, and Harry to whisper in her ear that everything was going to get better.

She didn't have that though, and she knew nothing would get better. She would just lose more people that she knew and loved and it will just bring her more sorrow.

Day 47;

Hermione wanted to be with the Weasleys' right now. She needed to know that George was okay. Oh Molly… she know she was not taking his death well. She missed them so much.

She wondered how Harry was taking all of this. He never could take death well. She wished she could hug all of them and be in their presence.

She wondered who was taking care of Teddy. He was going to have to live his whole life not knowing how wonderful his parents were.

She began to cry softly.

She had been like this for the past few days; crying at random times of the day. It was beginning to be too much.

Day 53;

"You get one meal a day and you are seriously not going to eat? How can you not be hungry?" Malfoy is staring at Hermione in disbelief.

"I'm just not. I don't know why. I haven't been hungry for a few days." She got this way when she was upset. She wasn't protesting anything, like that time she didn't eat the schools food for a week for House Elf Welfare; she was merely a pit of nothingness. She knew she should probably force herself to eat, but she just couldn't find the energy or care of keeping herself nourished.

Draco was staring at her and she could see the anger boiling up inside of him. He grabbed the spoon and shovelled up some soup. "Open your mouth Granger; you are not going to die from starving yourself."

She kept her lips compressed together for a moment. She wasn't really sure she wanted Draco Malfoy to hand feed her. It seemed rather odd… no, not odd, surreal, like this could be a dream. Why would she be dreaming about Malfoy feeding her?

In the end, Hermione complied with his wish and opened her mouth wide enough for the spoon to fit past her lips. Her taste buds are rejoicing and her stomach was finally at ease.

After a few shovels, the food was gone and Hermione sat there satisfied and less weak.

"I don't want to have to do that again. Eat your food, Granger, or next time I will be forced to go to drastic measures."

She nodded her head, not really wanting to talk.

She knew that she was finally beginning to lose hope that she would never be able to leave this place. She honestly just wanted to die. The bright witch knew that was horrible to say, but she couldn't help but feel that way.

"You can't give up yet."

She looked up at him a little bemused by his intuition. It was like he was reading her mind. Oh. Wait. He probably can do Legilimens.

"Why do you care if I give up or not Malfoy? Last time I checked I was nothing to you. I don't want to do this anymore. I am not able to help anyone by being here. I am a ploy to get Harry here, and that might kill him. I can't- won't- be the reason for his death." Silent tears were falling on her cheeks while she spoke and they didn't stop when she had stopped talking.

"You know it might hurt him more knowing he didn't make in time to save you, did you ever think of that?" He asked the question but didn't allow her to answer.

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes at her and continued. "Of course you didn't; you're still narrow-minded I see." he sighed, "You really need to work on that Granger. Stupidity doesn't look good on you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not narrow-minded, Malfoy." She let out a breath, "I just can't handle the pain anymore. It is eating me alive. I feel like if I have to endure anymore of this, the pain will swallow me whole and I won't be able to find my way back once I am gone."

He stared at her for a good bit contemplating what she had just confessed.

She still couldn't believe she had even confided her feelings to him, Malfoy of all people.

Although, now he was probably going to make fun of her and call her weak for being, well, weak.

He looked up at the ceiling before he spoke. "Just think of Weasley and Potter whenever you feeling that way. Think of surviving for them and them alone…" His eyes meet hers and they are locked with each other. "If you can't survive for yourself, survive for them."

That's it for Chapter 3. I hope you were left wanting more. A quick shout out to the reviewers and followers. You guys are awesome and I love you all. If I had the energy and time to write all your names down I would, but alas, I'm in no mood for more work. I am a lazy person, deal with it. :-) 

Review! They are loved and cherished.


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