The Sweetest Sin

Chapter 15: Numb

"...free to settle yourselves in our sitting room while I go attend to some business at the Bridge. My Mudblood servant will attend to you."

Upon hearing herself mentioned, Hermione froze in her tracks. She had just been heading up to the second floor to escape the possibility of having to greet the visitors Draco had brought to the house that afternoon. She'd caught a quick glimpse of them as they passed through the main doors earlier that day, and, judging from their crimson -- a colour that was the mark of a close acquaintance of Voldemort's -- robes and cold sneers, it was obvious that these were not men she wanted to be associated with.

However, she could no longer avoid them and so, with a growing feeling of dread, she turned around and began to walk to the lounge as slowly as she could.

When Hermione arrived at the doorway that led into the lounge, Draco was just leaving. He stopped abruptly when he saw her standing there. For a few seconds, he stared at her; then, as if reprimanding himself for being surprised by the sight of her, he shook his head slightly and picked up his stride again.

"I'm leaving," he said tensely as he brushed past her. "While they are here, I am expecting you to obey their orders. When I return in an hour, this house had best be in the state it is in now...or else."

Leaving his threat hanging open-ended, Draco strode away briskly. He stopped in the middle of the hall, shot one more look at Hermione over his shoulder, then apparated away with a small pop.

Hermione stood rooted to her spot, staring at the spot where Draco had stood moments ago. For the first time in her life, she wished he hadn't left her alone. With a growing feeling of dread, she bit her lip, closed her eyes and made a silent prayer that she would live through this, and walked into the lounge.

When Hermione dared to open her eyes again, she found that the four or five wizards in the room were all staring her with facial expressions ranging from amusement to disgust. She immediately recognised two of them: Vincent Crabbe and Michael Stimson, two Death Eaters she had gone to school with. Fortunately, they didn't seem to realise who she was for the matching sneers on their faces showed no sign of recognisation.

Blushing furiously, Hermione bowed her head and moved to the back of the room. It's possible, she silently reassured herself, that they don't even want anything to do with you. Just as long as you shut up, they will probably leave you alone.

"Well, well, well," said a tall, muscular Death Eater with stringy grey hair and slitted eyes, "looks like Malfoy's got himself quite the catch."

His friends laughed.

"Wish my Mudblood was this good-looking," added Crabbe. His comment initiated another round of snickers from the wizards sitting around him and his pudgy face widened into a grin. "Hey, c'mere will you?" he added to Hermione.

All but shaking with fright, Hermione obediently edged over to the group of Death Eaters. Her fists, hidden by the long sleeves of her robe, were clenched so tightly that she could feel blood being drawn from her palms by her nails.

"You certainly are pretty," murmured the Death Eater who was sitting on the seat nearest to her. He looked about her age and would have been very handsome if not for the long, jagged scar that ran from his right temple to his upper lip. Smirking, he lifted one of his hands and placed his fingers under Hermione's chin to bring her face closer to his. His fingertips were inhumanly cold, and Hermione couldn't help but shiver as he forced her to look into his murky brown eyes.

"Hey now, you can't steal her for yourself, Keynes," shouted the first Death Eater, standing up.

Keynes lowered his hand and Hermione immediately backed away. "Shut up, Hayek," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You know," interrupted Stimson, cocking his head thoughtfully, "she certainly looks a lot like Zabini's sister. Y'know, the one the Dark Lord killed...What was her name again?"

"Iris," replied Crabbe immediately. They looked at him, apparently surprised that he'd come up with the answer so quickly. "Malfoy was always talking about how he was in love with her and wanted to marry her," he added quickly.

A few of the Death Eaters rolled their eyes.

"Hah!" snorted a short, wiry man with a thick mop of black hair as he brushed imaginary dust off of his scarlet robes, "Yeah right...Like Malfoy could ever love someone. Look at him and his wife."

Hermione tuned out of their conversation as they began to joke about Draco's past failed relationships. Stimson's words had answered one of the questions that had been burning in her mind. So this is why he called me by her name, she thought grimly as she painfully recalled the night Draco had raped her. In his eyes, I was Iris.

Aside from the occasional jeers or taunts, the next two hours assed by as free of conflict as the circumstances could allow. Hermione, grateful for the expensive objects on display on the mantelpiece that had caught the attention of the group of Death Eaters, spent the time trying to find an exit through which she could leave without being noticed.

Unfortunately, by the time night had fallen, Hermione was still trapped in the same room. She was nearly falling asleep, but struggled to keep herself awake for fear of what would happen if she drifted off for even a minute. Her muscles were still tensed, ready to spring to action if any conflict should arise.

As if to finally give Hermione what she had been expecting, Stimson and the Death Eater with a scar across his face, Keynes, suddenly stood up. The former advanced towards her, while the latter moved over his short, wiry friend and began whispering something in his ear.

"You've been awfully quiet," said Stimson with a sneer. He stood uncomfortably close to Hermione and she could feel his putrid breath on her skin.

Restraining the urge to gag, Hermione pushed him away. "Get off me," she hissed.

Stimson stumbled, and the watching Death Eaters roared with laughter. "Let me have a go!" cried one of them.

"Shut up!" bellowed Stimson, briefly looking over his shoulder to glare at his friends. He then turned back to Hermione with a smile plastered on his face. "I apologise; I missed what you said...Would you care to repeat it for me?"

"You heard what I said," she said icily. "I have enough filth accumulating on me from living in this house, thanks. I don't need you to add more."

"Oho!" shouted someone. Hermione recognised the voice as Crabbe's. "She's giving you cheek!"

The smirk had suddenly slid off of Stimson's face. His small eyes were narrowed as he growled, "I'm surprised Malfoy hasn't broken you in yet, you little slut."

"I'll never -- never -- be broken in, much less by the likes of him," Hermione spat out. Though she was getting pleasure from watching his temper mount, his words were also angering her more than she was letting on. Somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice was urging her to stop now or she would regret it, but as usual, it went unheard.

"Well...I suppose if Malfoy can't do the job..." Stimson reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wand.

Before Stimson could get the chance to say or do anything, Hermione had spoken up again. "Oh yeah?" she retorted. "You think you're so great, don't you? Cursing Mudbloods and other wandless people. Looks like you haven't changed a bit since seventh year when the best victim you could get your hands on was the caretaker's cat."

Stimson's eyes widened and he nearly dropped his wand. "You...what?"

A quick glance over Stimson's shoulder showed Hermione that the other Death Eaters were just as stunned to find out that she had known their companion back during school.

"And," continued Hermione, her voice growing stronger now that the men in the room had been shocked into silence, "you yourself know that you're pathetic. Funny how You-Know-Who stresses the importance of a fair fight, and his closest followers are out there torturing defenceless half-bloods while their backs are turned. None of you even deserve the titles you hold. You're all cowards and --"

Hermione was suddenly interrupted by a high-pitched shriek of pain. One of the Death Eaters behind Stimson had cried "Crucio!" while she was talking, and it was her who was screaming -- screaming as the sensation of a thousand needles being stabbed repeatedly into her faces, chest, arms, legs hit her like a slap in the face, screaming as her mind throbbed so violently that she was sure her head was going to burst open. A single tear edged out of the corner of one of her eyes and rolled down her cheek, but Hermione had no idea; she had gone numb from the agony, her lungs must have been torn into a million pieces by now, one more second and she would surely die...

And suddenly, it stopped. Unable to move or even breathe, Hermione remained on her knees, shaking madly. In the faint distance, she heard a man say scathingly, "That will teach her to not mess with me."

At this, Hermione opened her mouth, took a deep rattling breath, and coughed out, "You disgust me."

Although she was braced this time, the impact of the Crucio curse still forced a scream of torture out of her. In her mind, Hermione could see flashes of her previous owners slapping her, abusing her, raping her, and her hands instinctively flew to her head and started wildly trying to gouge her own eyes out; anything to get the images out of her mind and anything to stop this pain.

Once again, Hermione found the curse lifted a few moments later; this time, she was so battered that she couldn't even find the energy to open her eyes. She could distinctly hear their voices muttering together, but could hardly pick out what they were saying for the deafening ringing in her ears muted out everything but the echoes of her screams, still resonating within her head.

Then, Hermione felt something hard collide with the side of her head. Pain streaked like lightning across her skull, but when she opened her mouth to scream, no sound came out. Having been knocked onto her side, another foot now brutally stepped on her back, crushing her to the ground.

This is it...I'm going to die.

Just then, an odd sensation came over her. The pain suddenly disappeared and Hermione felt as though she were floating peacefully somewhere in space. Miraculously, she slowly got up with ease and turned to look at her attackers. She couldn't see them; a cloud of white was obstructing her view; however, she heard one of their voices in her mind ordering her to beg for mercy.

No, she thought weakly as she struggled against the urge to obey the command. No, I won't, I've experienced all of this, I can handle it, leave me alone...

All of a sudden, the dreamlike trance Hermione had been in for a few moments disappeared without warning, and pain beyond anything she could remember slammed into her. Gasping for breath, she collapsed on the ground. There was shouting all around her; one of the voices sounded more familiar than the others but she had no idea what was going on.

After a few seconds, Hermione felt a cool hand brushing her hair away from her face. Gently and briefly, the person pressed two fingers against the side of her neck. Then, without warning, Hermione felt herself being lifted up off the ground and carried out of the room.

At this point, she had gone completely numb. The stabbing pain was easing away as darkness began to blot out all existing thoughts in her mind. Just as Hermione was about to fall into a state of unconsciousness, she heard a voice next to her ear murmuring something.

"I'm sorry..."