Expectations

Expectations Chapter 2

(by elle6778)

Draco tossed and turned in his bed, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Ever since Voldemort had ordered him to kill Dumbledore a year ago, he had not been able to get a peaceful night's of sleep.

A tapping sound against his window roused him from his restless slumber.

Groaning sleepily, he walked over to the window and opened it to let an unrecognisable brown owl in. Who could it be at this time in the morning, he thought grumpily as his eyes went to his watch. It was only 4am in the morning, much too early for any casual correspondences.

"This had better be good," he growled at the owl, which just blinked back lazily.

He untied the small piece of parchment from the owl's leg and unfolded it. The minute he read the message, he wished that he had stayed in bed. He let his eyes travel over the message again, hoping that somehow, he had misread it the first time round.

Mr Malfoy, our Lord will require your presence in the near future. Be prepared.

It was unsigned, but Draco knew from the style of writing that it was from Snape. Before he could decide how to reply, the owl flew off, obviously affronted at the lack of owl-treats.

Shrugging, Draco threw on some clothes and laid back down on his bed, waiting for the Dark Lord's call.

Waiting for the Dark Mark on his left arm to burn.

An hour passed. Draco was almost asleep again when the familiar burning pain on his arm woke him up. Without a moment's delay, he grabbed his black hooded robes and wrapped it securely around himself. Reaching into his cupboard, he pulled out a mask, slipping it out of sight into the pocket of his robe.

Finally ready to meet the Dark Lord. I wonder what other sick torture he will inflict on me this time, he thought grimly, but not without a trace of fear.

***

Hermione had been gone for two hours when Harry began to worry. How long would it have taken her to get some food anyway? Wondering if she had gotten into trouble with some of the rough crowds which hung out around the area, Harry decided to go look for her. He knew that Hermione would tell him that she could take care of herself but he would feel better if she was in sight.

Ignoring the muffled shrieks from Mrs Black's portrait, he made his way to the front door and stepped out into the night. He followed the route he knew Hermione usually took, glancing left and right to see if he could spot her.

Not finding her along the usual route, he spread out his search area and walked all over Kings Cross, his steps becoming increasingly agitated as each second ticked by. A sense of foreboding began to wash over him, telling him that Hermione was in trouble.

By the time Harry returned to 12 Grimmauld Place, he was practically running. His mind told him that only one thing could have happened; Hermione had been abducted.

It did not take a genius to guess who had abducted her.

Harry had no idea where she had been taken to, otherwise he would have gone straight there. He did not want to involve more people for the fear that he would put them in further danger, but he knew that this time, he had no choice. He needed help. This time he was not going to run headlong into something without back up. Hermione's safety was critical.

Grabbing the pouch of Floo powder from the shelf, he tossed it into fireplace. When the fire burned green, he stepped in and said, "The Burrow."

***

Hermione clawed her way back to consciousness, wondering why she felt so weak. She cracked an eye open to find herself in an almost pitch black dungeon cell, curled up in a ball on the dirty, damp floor.

Almost instantly, flashes of what had occurred earlier came rushing back.

The portkey had brought her straight to a dungeon. She had landed ungracefully on the floor right in front of a robed figure, his pair of brown boots right in front of her nose. Before she could open her mouth to demand to know what was going on, the robed figure had laughed down at her.

"Well, well, well...what do we have here? A Mudblood," the figure had said, sounding amused. His voice was muffled by his mask.

Hermione had looked up, her blood draining from her face once she had registered the significance of the figure in the black hooded robes and the masked face. Struggling to keep her voice level, she had spat out, "Keep away from me, you disgusting Death-Eater!"

"Tsk, tsk, such a temper... We can't have that, can we? The Dark Lord will see to that," the figure said menacingly before raising his wand. "Stupefy!"

And that was all Hermione remembered. She guessed that the stupefy spell had knocked her out and they had brought her to this cell afterwards. She patted herself down, sighing in relief when she found herself relatively intact except for a pounding headache. Her jeans and her thin shirt were coated with grime, and she noticed without much surprise that someone had taken her wand from the extra pocket she had purposely created to hold it.

The sound of footsteps outside her cell reached her, encouraging her to scramble to her feet. Defenceless, she stood staring at the door until it opened, letting in a flood of light into the cell which almost blinded her.

As she held up her hand to shield her eyes, a robed figure stepped in and grabbed her arm. Hermione had no idea if it was the same person as the one who had cast the spell on her; all of them looked the same. Only this one wore shiny black boots instead of a pair of brown ones. So it was probably a different Death-Eater this time.

Although she knew that it was futile, she still continued to struggle as the Death-Eater she dubbed Black-Boots dragged her out of the cell into the corridor.

"Where are we going?" she hissed, trying to yank her arm back unsuccessfully.

He did not answer, but continued to forcefully tug her along.

A short walk later, they came to a guarded door. Black-Boots whispered a few words to the guards and they opened the door to allow him and Hermione entrance.

When they entered, a robed figure turned around to face them. Before Hermione could say anything, Black-Boots pushed her to her knees and bowed to the robed figure.

"My Lord," Black-Boots greeted reverently in a low voice.

Hermione sucked in her breath sharply when she realised that she was kneeling in front of Voldemort.

"I see that you've brought me a gift," Voldemort drawled, his voice grating on Hermione's nerves. "A pretty little Mudblood."

Hermione did not bother to hide her look of disgust. Although Voldemort looked human now, but there was nothing human in the way he acted. The strange evil gleam in his eyes and the way he spoke made her feel ill. "You're disgusting!" she spat.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Feisty, aren't you? Well, it'll be interesting to see how feisty you can be under different circumstances," he sneered, holding up his wand to cast a curse.

Hermione's eyes rounded in fear.

Black-Boots interrupted in a respectful tone, keeping his voice low, "My Lord, the trap was set for any Mudbloods, but we have been very fortunate. She's one of Harry Potter's best friends."

Voldemort tensed as he heard his nemesis's name.

No, no, no, Hermione thoughts were suddenly filled with dread. She did not need any Divination skills to know that Voldemort wanted use her to hurt Harry. Outwardly, she spat, "He's just my classmate, and he's not going to fall for something this stupid!"

A hard smack landed on the side of her face, sending her down to the floor. Black-Boots growled down at her, "Do not address the Dark Lord directly."

She glared at him murderously as she wiped off the blood from her split lips using the back of her hands.

Voldemort looked at her thoughtfully. "Isn't that interesting? In that case, I'll keep you for a special occasion," he said. "But there's no reason why you can't go where I originally wanted you to go."

As if on cue, the door opened again to admit another masked Death-Eater. The hooded figure paused momentarily as he caught sight of her, and then smoothly continued to make his way to Voldemort. As he bowed low, Hermione caught a glimpse of a strand of blonde hair between his mask and his hood.

"My Lord," he greeted respectfully.

Hermione frowned. She could have sworn that she knew Blondie's voice. Oblivious to her thoughts, Voldemort nodded to Black-Boots. "You can go now."

Bowing respectfully, Black-Boots retreated. Hermione's eyes shifted to the door he had just gone through, noting that it had not closed properly. She wondered if she should try to make a run for it. There was practically no chance that she would escape, but she had to try. Anything was better than sitting there waiting for her fate to be decided by these deranged Death-Eaters.

Voldemort turned his attention to Blondie. Getting straight to the point, he ordered, "I've got a task for you. Watch over this Mudblood until I tell you otherwise. I have big plans for her. Let her escape and it'll be your life at risk. I will not tolerate another one of your failures."

A short silence followed his words before Blondie replied, "I will not fail you, my Lord."

Hermione decided then. Pushing herself off the floor, she dashed for the door.

"Crucio!" A spell was shouted out.

Hermione tensed for a second before her face contorted with the pain the curse had inflicted on her body. A sharp strangled scream escaped her throat as she fell to her knees.

Gritting her teeth, she glared at Voldemort. "Let me go, you deranged prick!" she yelled, spasms of pain still wracking her body.

"What filthy mouth you have. But that's expected, considering your blood," Voldemort drawled lazily. "I see that we'll probably need to do something about that temper of yours."

Turning to Blondie, he continued, "Don't you agree? We need to take her down a few pegs."

Blondie nodded obediently, "Yes, my Lord."

Clasping his hand together, Voldemort gave her a menacing grin before instructing Blondie, "I want you to break her. Subdue her. I want to make sure everyone, especially Harry Potter, knows what it means to tangle with me." He paused for a moment before continuing in a sinister tone, "She would be unrecognisable when he sees her next."

"My Lord, I'll be pleased to carry out your instructions," Blondie agreed, and moved towards Hermione.

She flinched involuntarily as he grasped her arm roughly to pull her up. Not willing to be manhandled, Hermione started trashing her arms against him, her small fists connecting with his chest.

"Keep still, you stupid Mudblood!" he hissed angrily, wrapping his arms tight around her to pin her arms down at her side, her breast crushed painfully against his chest.

Hermione froze.

The way he had called her Mudblood and his blonde hair...

"Malfoy?" she ventured in a whisper, her voice trembling slightly. Up close, she could see his stormy grey eyes through the mask.

He stiffened at her words. "Shut up and stop struggling!" he snarled viciously.

Voldemort's irate voice interrupted them. "You're calling THAT subduing? Surely you can do better than that. Do you need me to give you specific instructions since your father appeared to have been negligent in your training?" he sneered.

Draco did not answer; instead he remained still with Hermione in his arms.

Hermione cast a fearful look at Draco, hoping to appeal to his better side, if he had one. "Malfoy...please don't do this..." she whispered softly so that Voldemort could not hear her.

"So be it then. I'm going to instruct you in the ways we have fun with Mudbloods like her," Voldemort said with a leer. "Take out your wand," he ordered Draco and then turned to Hermione with an expectant look on his face.

Draco extracted his wand from his robes, holding it tightly.

"Cast the Imperious curse," Voldemort instructed.

Draco hesitated for a moment before he raised his wand. "Imperio!"

A pulse of light came out from the tip of the wand straight to her. Hermione stiffened when she was hit with curse, stopping her movements instantly.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Voldemort drawled. "She's yours now. But may I suggest some humiliation?" he said in a tone which told Draco that it was more an order than a suggestion.

Hermione was scared, but she could see the hesitation in the way Draco held himself. Hoping to get through to him, she gritted out, "Malfoy...don't do it..."

"Shut up, Mudblood!" he snarled and pointed his wand at her. He seemed to want to say something, but was unable to. Hermione held her breath as she saw the tip of his wand waver uncertainly.

"What are you waiting for, boy?" Voldemort questioned in a dangerous tone, obviously displeased with Draco's hesitation.

Draco snapped his head to Voldemort for an instant before turning back to Hermione, his eyes hardening. In a tight voice, he instructed, "Come to me."

Hermione felt her limbs move on their own accord. Her mind screamed; NO! Don't do it, Hermione! Fight it! But at the moment, her mind was overruled by her limbs. Step by step, she made her way to Draco, her eyes welling up with a mixture of anger and helplessness.

"Very good. Now more," Voldemort said, his eyes gleaming in satisfaction. "Her muggle clothes don't fit in with our surroundings, I believe."

Hermione gasped as his meaning became clear. She shook her head mutely at Draco, her eyes now pleading. This was a nightmare which she did not know how to escape from.

Draco's voice penetrated her thoughts. "Remove your shirt and jeans."

Struggling against the command, Hermione forced her mind to regain control of her body, holding her arms down. She had managed to do it before during her DA meetings with Harry and the rest. But this time it seemed to be so much more difficult. The effort to resist was beginning to drain her of her strength. After what seemed like hours, when she thought she had succeeded, Draco shouted out the command again at Voldemort's prodding.

Her concentration broke and her arms moved, lifting up her shirt to expose her top half in a white bra and then shifted to dispose of her jeans. Hermione felt a tear slip past the corner of her eyes and roll down her cheeks.

"Not so brave now, Mudblood?" Voldemort mocked. Turning to Draco, he asked expectantly, "You know what to do next?"

Draco nodded mutely. "Take off the rest of your clothes," he instructed tonelessly.

NO! Hermione's mind screamed as she clamped down forcefully on the urge to remove her underwear. Her mind strained so hard with the effort of holding her limbs back that she thought she would die from it. I would rather lose my mind and die than to humiliate myself further, she swore vehemently.

Draco repeated his instruction, but Hermione could barely hear it. Her focus was pinned solely on resisting the curse. Her body began to shake with the effort and her head felt like it was splitting in two, but she held on to her resolve, telling herself that she could do it.

In the distance, she could hear a door slam open. Her fuzzy mind processed the sound of Black-Boots's voice, but it was too much effort to decipher what he was saying.

And then, when she thought she could not bear the pressure any longer, her mind began to shut down.

Blackness swirled around her, rendering her unconscious.

***

t.b.c.

***