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A gasp burst from Hermione's lips as she sat up in a rush. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she felt as if she was going to be sick. She had been lying on a cold wooden floor but looked around, confused about how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was sitting at the campfire with Harry and Ron.
Her muscles ached as if she had been running, and her clothes were torn and dirty. Her head throbbed, and when she touched it, her fingers came away with flecks of dried blood. She checked for her wand and found nothing. The bedroom looked run-down, but she could tell the furnishings had once been expensive.
Unsure if she was ready to stand, Hermione, pushed through anyway, finding her ankle was tender as if she had twisted it. She limped over to one of the few windows; the light shining through made her eyes hurt. She could see a ward in place when she couldn't get a clear image of what was outside. When she reached out to touch it, it sent a slight shock to her fingers, just enough to make her pull her hand back.
Hermione turned to face the room and went very still as she noticed the form on the bed. There was someone in the room with her. She backed slowly towards the door, hoping that whatever warded the window hadn't locked her in completely.
When the ward struck her shoulder, she nearly crumpled to the floor. The shock had far exceeded what the window had delt, but Hermione didn't cry out, fearing she would wake whoever slept in the room. She was trapped, but the other person had yet to stir from their sleep. Hermione limped as silently as she could over to the figure. He looked clean, with almost pearl-like skin and black raven air. His face was like an artistic depiction of an angle, but Hermione had absolutely no memory of ever seeing it before.
He wore black silk robes that reminded her of a Death Eater, but none had ever looked so lovely. Hermione pulled back from the man. She needed to find her wand, and she needed to get out of the room.
As efficiently and quality as she could, Hermione combed every inch of the room, looking for where someone could have stashed her wand. She pulled out drawers and searched behind half-rotted paintings. She even wiggled under the bed and found the mattress itself was probably the newest thing in the room.
When every other inch of the room was searched, she turned back to the man in the bed. Was it possible he had her wand on him? Was he her keeper or a prisoner like her? Carefully she started on the empty side of the bed, pulling back the covers and revealing what looked like very comfortable sheets.
The man didn't react as she slowly removed the covers from him as well. She frowned as she watched him for a moment, looking for any sign that he might be waking; only then did she realize he wasn't breathing. Hermione moved around to feel for a pulse and found his skin cool to the touch; her fingers tingled at the contact. She stepped away quickly and wrung her hands together; why would someone leave her in the room with a body? Was it possible she had killed him somehow? Was this some new kind of torture? She couldn't smell any decay; he couldn't have been dead for long.
If the ward on the room had been his, it would have dropped with his death. It seemed unlikely he had her wand, but she would never know for sure if she didn't check. Hermione steeled herself before stepping up the body once more and checking for anything that could prove useful. She checked him meticulously down to the lining of his robe and found nothing at all.
She spent several more hours rechecking the rest of the room before settling on the bed next to the body. It was much more comfortable than the floor, and her ankle and head were throbbing. The pain helped Hermione ignore her hunger as she tried to focus on using wandless magic to at least relieve the worst of her injuries.
She had made very little progress when a table and chair appeared in an open space next to the bed. She slipped off to investigate, but it was becoming hard to see anything as the sun started to set; there was no other light source in the room. Her stomach growled as the smells of food wafted her way.
As she got close enough to see the food in the gloom, she was tempted to throw caution to the wind. She had no idea how long it had been since her last meal, but she was painfully hungry. Only what were the chances that the food wasn't poisoned or at least drugged with some potion?
The food looked too good not to be some kind of trap. Or had it been for the man? Did her captors not know he was dead? If that was true, it was highly likely she had been the one to kill him. She glanced over at the body once more, only to jump nearly afoot when she found him sitting up.
"You were…". Hermione grimaced as she landed hard on her hurt ankle.
He stretched like a lazy cat, cracking his neck before turning and slipping out of bed. He was one of the most graceful creatures she had ever witnessed, almost as if he glided instead of walked. Hermine backed into the table, unsure what to think of the tall, now seemingly alive figure before her.
"Were you hungry, my pet?" He asked when his gaze fell upon her and the table just behind. "Did the elves forget to feed you while I slept?"
"You weren't asleep." Hermione was sure there had been no pulse when she checked. He hadn't been alive.
"I do tend to sleep like the dead when I must sleep at all. Was my little mudslut worried for, her Lord?"
"I'm not your anything!" She snapped even as the word made her whole body perk in excitement. The man gave her a knowing smile as if he understood her body's reaction better than she did. What was wrong with her? Had he done something? Why couldn't she remember what happened?
"We've talked about this, pet? There is no more need to deny what you are. Not with me." He stepped towards her, his long delicate fingers reaching out as if he only wished to comfort her.
Hermione felt the desire to fall into his comfort, allow him to take control, and give herself a chance to finally rest. But she had a minimal idea who the man was. All she knew was that he had demeaned her within a few minutes of waking and that he was a corpse while he slept.
"I don't know you!" She moved around the table to give herself more space; she found the closer he got, the more her body warmed for him. "I can't-" She shook her head and swallowed. "What did you do to me?"
He looked at her with concern, seeming a bit confused by her reaction. Had he expected her to just fall into his arms?
"Were my snatchers too rough with you this time, pet?" His eyes traveled over her ripped and dirty clothes, seeming to notice them for the first time.
"This time?" Hermione shook her head; what was he talking about? "We've never met!"
The man paused as he moved around the table, the concern on his face deepening. She got the sudden urge to comfort him, to tell him everything would be okay, but she shook it off as best she could.
"Stay away from me."
"Heel." His order was firm and direct as he kept eye contact with her, and though she had no idea why Hermione found herself kneeling in front of him, looking up with her wrists crossed behind her back. "At least some of your conditioning is still in place. Do you truly not know who I am?" He asked.
When he touched her, she felt the rush of familiarity; her soul responded, aching for more, aching to please her Lord. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't move away.
"What curse is this?"
It was as if a part of her remembered the man, trusted him, wanted his approval and attention. Tactile memory of his touching and pleasuring her, but she could not recognize his face. She could almost taste his lips and knew precisely what it would feel like if he took her over his knee and spanked her bottom red, but she had no idea what his name was.
"Not a curse, my devoted little pet." His fingers ran over her forehead, light enough not to cause further pain. "You were brought to be two years ago." He crouched down and tilted her chin; something had changed in his voice. When she opened her eyes, red-slitted orbs looked back at her.
Hermione screamed and fell back from him, her terror breaking whatever control he had. Lord Voldemort stood over her in all his monstrous glory, following as she crawled backward in a rush to get away.
"It seems you know me now." He let her have a bit of space as he stood to his full height. "Do you remember the day Severus brought you before me?"
She was wandless in a room with Lord Voldemort. Why was he acting as if they had met? It had to be a trick! She shook her head. "That didn't happen."
"Didn't it? The night he killed the old fool, you tried to stop him from leaving with the rest, and he grabbed you before coming to me."
"No. Only Harry chased after the Death Eaters! I-" She paused as she tried to remember what she had been doing while Snape and the rest made their escape. The night was foggy; A mismatch of memories that didn't quite make a complete picture. She couldn't think of anything that happened after the Dark Mark appeared in the sky.
"You begged me for your life and the life of your friend. You offered me your service so that I would not destroy Harry Potter."
"I would never-"
"Wouldn't you give anything to save your friends?" He stood just over her, and she had nowhere to go. She would give almost anything for her friends, especially Harry, but she had no memory of anything he was saying. Someone would have noticed she was missing. "We've kept the arrangement secret, and you have come to me whenever I have called."
Hermione shook her head too fast, trying to deny everything he was saying. She felt dizzy with hungry, and sick from the blow she had taken to her head.
"Calm down; your Lord will make everything right." When he drew his wand, she felt her indignation flair even as her head spun. She had thoroughly checked him and found nothing! Where had he been hiding it?
"Where did you get that?!" Her tone was accusing.
He allowed his eyes to trail to where she was glaring at his wand, and he let a sinister smile slip onto his lips. "Not as smart as you thought you were." He chuckled as her anger flared. "Be a good girl for me, mudblood, you know deep down that is what you want. Even if you can't remember why."
"I…" Her voice shook as the desire wasn't so deep as he claimed; she could feel it just below the surface. It hadn't abated when the angel transformed into a nightmare; the need for him, they want to please him, only grew.
"You're hungry, weak, and hurt. Allow your Lord to make it all better." He offered her a hand
"If I usually come when you call, why did the snatchers grab me?" She asked he had mentioned them before, and her injuries made sense if she had encountered snatchers.
"Very few know how precious you are to me. We had to keep it secret, and I do not trust most of my followers not to reveal the truth if they knew."
She allowed him to help her to her feet, and as they touched, she almost lost her footing as a wave of unrestrained need flashed through her entire body. He caught her around the waist and pulled her into him.
"It's been too long since I've filled you sweet little quim." He hissed as he vanished her clothes with an easy wave of his wand. "My business has drawn me away, but I am here now, and we shall set things right."
He pulled her into his lap as he sat at the table. He positioned Hermione as if she were a doll, making her straddle his thighs as she looked out at the feast set on the table in front of them. She was so hungry, but it was far more than just food she needed. She wanted him.
"Still." He ordered, and Hermione hadn't realized she had been wiggling herself against his hardened member. Her body stilled instantly, unable to stop herself from following his order. She was in Lord Voldemort's lap wholly naked, and she had never felt safer, even as the logical side of her brain screamed about the danger.
He plucked a morsel of food from his plate, and she found herself opening her mouth so he could feed it to her. "Good girl, are you starting to remember all the hours we've spent together?"
Hermione shook her head. How was it possible?
"I've spent so much time conditioning you to be my perfect pet. It seems that even without the memories your training is holding. I'm going to heal you, and we will work to get your memories to return." He rose his wand and let his trail down the cut on her forehead. She could feel a slight relief in the throbbing pain.
"This is a trick." She said but allowed him to feed her another bite.
"I don't detect lasting damage; with time and some reminders, your memories should return." He promised as if his words should reassure her.
"I've been spying on Harry?" She asked; none of it made sense, but before she could ask more, he adjusted her on his lap, sheathing her onto his thick length without warning. She let out a gasp and had to brace herself against the table.
"Much better." He purred as he fed her another bit of food. He took one of himself, not allowing either of them to move as they ate. "I've missed my pretty little cock warmer."
She clenched at the dirty words, her body dying to ride him, or better yet, he could bend her over the table and fuck her willing cunt.
"All in due time, my little slut. I am trying to enjoy my meal."
"I've done this before?" She asked, but it felt so familiar, she wished she could remember the way he had trained her. It felt too good to follow his lead.
"Many times, in different situations. I've even used you this way at revels, with my very best disillusionment and orders for you not to move while we watch my followers feed their depravity."
His words felt true; she could almost picture herself looking out over a crowd of Death Eaters. He would take her on his throne after or allow Hermione to lick the mess she had made of his lap.
"But…" He pushed the hair off her neck and kissed the spot where it met her shoulder. "You will not have to hide for much longer. All shall soon know how precious my mudblood is. I no longer need you to spy on the boy."
"W-why?" She was having a hard time keeping her focus even as he seemed completely unphased.
"He and the redhead are in my custody."
"N-no!" Hermione struggled as she tried to free herself from his grip.
"It is all thanks to you, my sweet." He held her firmly in place, his fingers digging in as she struggled. "But I am your Lord, and I have kept my word. The boy will not be harmed for as long as you remain mine."
Hermione went still on top of him as she considered he might be telling the truth. "Will I be able to talk to him?" She asked; her fight settled as he pulled her back against his chest.
"Once you have earned the right and remembered who you are to be." He promised, and she nodded slowly.
"I'll be good." She promised, wetting dry lips. "But I'll need to at least see him… before."
"Tomorrow." Lord Voldemort promised as he held her almost gently in his arms. "As long as you please me well tonight."
"How do I please you?" She asked, feeling defeated and at peace at the same time.
"Follow your instincts; your conditioning is still in place, my pet. What do they say I want from you now?"
Hermione swallowed and closed her eyes. She had been spending so much energy fighting her instincts it took her a moment to hear them. "To stay still in quite like a good…"
"Say it," He ordered, and she could feel him twitch inside of her.
"To stay still and quiet like a good cock warmer." She bit her lip so she wouldn't moan as the words seemed to release something inside of her.
"Exactly right." He turned his attention back to the food in front of them, feeding her bits as he ate himself. She closed her eyes and basked in the idea of being nothing more than an object, no need to think or do, just be.
When he wiped his mouth after the last bite of their shared meal, Hermione waited to see what he would ask of her next. He pushed her forward without warning. Splaying her over the dirty dishes with his length still buried to the hilt inside of her.
Lord Voldemort held her down by the back of her neck, his grip on this side of painful, but she found she could bask in that feeling too.
"If you move or make a single sound, I will punish you." He warned before he withdrew from her only to thrust forward and drive her into the plates and cutlery. Hermione bit her lip so that she wouldn't cry out, her hands turning into fists as she fought the urge to move the fork, so it wasn't pressing into her ribs.
He gave her no warm-up and started to piston into her with the power of an Erumpent in rut. Her toes began to curl against the wood as she felt a bundle of pleasure knotting itself just below her stomach. Without meaning, she started to keen and mew, unable to hold in the sounds of joy and need.
The Dark Lord laughed about her as he continued his brutal pace. "Can't even listen to a simple order, my dumb little whore?" He hissed, but he did not sound displeased. Did he want a reason to punish her? She found that she wanted to be punished.
"Sorry, my Lord!" The words felt natural on her tongue, and she let out another moan as he gave her a sharp smack to her thigh.
"It continues to disobey."
She felt his free hand smooth down her spine until his fingers brushed over the small of her back. Hermione knew the sounds he made were parseltongue even as they were a deep melody compared to the spitting noises Harry always made.
Her body spasmed in response, the muscles of her vagina tightening to the point of pain. He had felt big before, filling her to the absolute brink, but now it was too much.
"Much better." He hissed as he continued his savage assault on her sex.
Hermine bit her lip as she wanted to cry out, but she didn't know how much more punishment she could take.
"Is it not always better with your Lord in complete control?" He asked, and she wondered for a moment if she was supposed to answer.
"Please?" She gasped, unable to say more without losing it entirely.
"Does my mudslut not enjoy her Lord's ecstasy?" His voice was cruel, the hand on her neck pushed down painfully. "But you are so very slick for me." Lord Voldemort pointed out as the wet slapping sound of their joining seemed to ring in her ears. "You don't want me to stop before I've found release inside your needy little cunt."
Hermione nodded, no longer trusting her voice. Even as the pain of everything overwhelmed her, she could still feel her pleasure build towards something extraordinary.
"I remade you, Hermione, forced you to be my perfect little whore, hungry for your Lord. Do you think you would be feeling any of this otherwise?"
She shook her head. She couldn't imagine feeling any of the thrills, wanting him so very much if she hadn't been conditioned bit by bit to take what he wanted to give. But why couldn't she remember?
His fingers slipped up the back of her neck to tangle into her hair, and suddenly she was yanked back by her scalp. She arched, so he stayed buried inside of her as her Lord turned her head to reveal her neck. The Lord Voldemort bit down on the tender flesh; Hermione cried out when sharp fangs pierced her skin.
When he sucked greedily on the wounds, the bundle finally burst inside of her, and she couldn't help the scream of ecstasy that echoed from her lips. He continued to fuck her even as she shook in climax. Hermione felt like a doll in his arms, only made for his needs while her own swirled around, twisted from anything recognizable. She no longer belonged to herself.
His hold on her neck only released as she felt him finally peak deep inside of her, pumping her full of his seed. She wondered in a detached way if she should worry about that, but she couldn't bring herself to care just then.
The moment he was done with her, the Dark Lord dropped her used form back of the ground, so close to the spot where she had started the night. Hermione closed her eyes as she worked to make sense of it all and grasp for the memories she had lost. She knew it would be easier if she could only remember what had brought her to that point.
Potter escaped, but we caught this piece of meat. It's his mudblood, my Lord.
The words drifted through her mind, an unfamiliar dirty face standing over her.
It seems she has protected her mind with some kind of enchantment, my Lord. We can not find the boy's location.
Snape.
Torture me all you like; I'll never betray Harry!
She heard herself scream even as echos of pain wracked her body.
The process may take a few tries, my Lord.
"NO!" Hermione howled as the memories crashed over her! She couldn't count how many times she had woken in the room; how long had he been working on wearing her down?
When she opened her eyes, she found him smiling down at her. She couldn't move as he crouched over her. "Did you remember again, my sweet?" He asked as she tried to flinch away. "I must admit I am going to miss this when I finally break you. Your fight has been delicious, but I think one more time may be the end of it. Severus!"
The sound of the door opening made Hermione want to cry. Had her old professor been listening as the Dark Lord defiled her?
"We'll need at least another round, have her ready for my return tomorrow." He was looking at her thoughtfully. "I think more injuries may help the potions along. And let us see how she reacts to my true from the beginning." He stepped on her arm, his hand reaching down to grab her wrist.
She knew what was coming but could do nothing to stop it. Hermione screamed as he broke her arm; he watched her for a moment as if he relished the sound.
"Don't worry, pet; I've decided to keep you. Even after I've gotten what I need." She got the sense of him leaving even as her vision blurred with whatever Snape was doing to her. The never-ending darkness draped over her mind, and she could think of nothing and no one.
A gasp burst from Hermione's lips as she sat up in a rush.