Eden

I lie still on my back, my legs curled up to the side of me. My eyes are open, pressing into the green darkness of my cell, but seeing nothing.

All of my body is aching from lying on this floor. I've been lying here for hours, ever since he left me, curled up on this bed of straw and staring blankly up at the ceiling.

I've only moved when I had to. A silent, sullen-faced woman has come along twice to take me to the bathroom down the corridor for toilet breaks. And once I got up of my own accord, to eat the food that he left for me.

I haven't slept. Hours and hours must have passed since he left me, but I haven't slept a wink, even though the pain I went through yesterday has exhausted me.

All I have done is lie here.

At first I cried. I cried and cried until eventually I wore myself out. And now I feel like I have no tears left to shed. They've all been expelled out of me. It feels like they'll never come again.

I've gone completely numb. I feel empty, abandoned. Lost.

I'm drenched with sweat. I don't know why, but for the last few hours I've just been so warm. I had to kick my blanket off of me, I was sweating so much.

I've got a banging headache, as well. It's probably because I'm so thirsty. And so hungry! A class of water and a crust of bread aren't really enough to keep me going.

I haven't slept, despite my exhaustion, because my mind will not rest. I can't stop thinking about what I have done. I turn it over and over in my mind, again and again, until I can't make sense of it anymore.

Why did I do it?

Why couldn't I hold out?

What are they going to do to the people I've named?

Why couldn't I be brave when it mattered?

I don't think my guilt will ever allow me to sleep again.

What's that noise?

I listen carefully, and I realise that there are footsteps moving down my corridor. My sore eyes flicker to the door of my cell, and I listen with all my might to work out where they are heading.

They could easily not be coming for me. I'm not the only prisoner being kept in this corridor. I have heard people come and go from these cells frequently since Lucius left me, but none of them have come to see me. But the screams of the people they did go to visit echoed all the way down through the rest of the cells.

There isn't just one set of feet out there. There are two people, I think, moving purposefully down the corridor. One pair of shoes clicks smartly, the other pounds quite heavily.

I think I recognise the sound of that first pair of feet.

I sit up, slowly, groaning slightly as my muscles scream in protest after being kept still on the stone floor for so long.

The footsteps stop outside of my cell, and I see the blonde head of Lucius Malfoy looking at me through my barred window.

He's back for more.

I've got to be stronger, this time. I know what to expect from him now. I've got to fight, to win, to triumph over the torture.

I stand up as quickly as my aching body will allow me, wiping the sweat away from my forehead. My head starts to thump painfully as I get to my feet.

Christ, I hope I'm not getting ill. That's all I need, on top of everything else.

The door clicks open, and Lucius steps into the room. But he's not alone this time. There's another wizard with him, also in a black robe, and maskless. He's about the same height as Lucius, and around about the same age, I think. I recognise his pale, twisted face from somewhere, but I can't put a name to it.

Where have I seen him before?

'Good morning, Miss Granger,' Lucius drawls. 'You will, I am sure, remember Antonin Dolohov? The pair of you met at the Ministry of Magic, I believe.'

Oh God, I remember. He's the man that cursed me in the Department of Mysteries. I never saw his face at the time; he was wearing a mask. But his picture had been in the Daily Prophet before then, when he escaped from Azkaban with Bellatrix Lestrange.

I swear he got caught at the Ministry...

He must have escaped from prison with Lucius. Perhaps he was another one of the six mentioned in the Prophet.

Dolohov's twisted face contorts into a gruesome leer as he runs his eyes over me. With a suppressed shiver I remember the sensation of the curse he laid on me. The feeling of the pain across my ribs, and then nothing but darkness.

'My, haven't you grown up since I last saw you, my dear,' he says, and I realise that I have heard that deep, slightly accented voice twice since I arrived here. 'I don't blame you for wanting to keep her to yourself yesterday, Lucius. She's quite pretty.'

Oh God!

The way he's looking at me makes me feel dirty, embarrassed and confused. He lets his eyes go up and down, up and down, and I feel them run over me like slime.

Lucius raises his eyebrows and sneers incredulously. 'Well, each to his own, I suppose. No accounting for taste.'

Hate courses through me, jumping in shocks through my warm, tired body, waking it up.

You smug, arrogant-

Dolohov begins to walk over to me, slowly, distracting me as I attempt to come up with a cutting reply to Lucius.

'You do know that she's a Mudblood, Antonin?' Lucius asks.

Dolohov raises an eyebrow, his eyes roaming slowly over my body. 'I can look even though I'm not allowed to touch.'

Oh, God!

I push myself back into the wall, wrapping my arms around my torso defensively. I want him to get away from me, to back off. I don't want him near me - I feel greasy and unclean at the very thought of it.

Lucius leans against the wall, smirking slightly at my discomfort.

But at the same time, there's something about him that looks a little...

Disgusted?

'How much of a look can I have?' Dolohov really is too close to me now. I can see every line, every muscle in those twisted features. He's slightly younger than Lucius, I think, but not much younger. I wrap my arms even tighter around myself, grateful for the slight barrier that creates between us, but I meet his gaze in what I hope he sees as defiance.

I might as well not bother. He doesn't notice my expression - he's not looking at my face.

Stop it stop it stop it!

'Those clothes don't do much for her, do they?'

He flicks his wand, and my arms are wrenched from around my chest, lifted above my head and pinned to the wall above me.

No no no no NO!

I twist my body furiously, but I can't move my hands away from the wall. He laughs softly. He makes a tearing movement with his wand, and my t-shirt rips clean in half down the front.

I twist and struggle against the invisible grips on my wrists as anger surges up from the bottom of my gut, bubbling up through my chest and out of my mouth.

'For Christ's sake, what's wrong with you?' I yell at him, embarrassment and indignation flooding me, pulsing hard in my ears, boiling through my body.

'Nothing's wrong with me, Mudblood,' he says, a horrible grin on his face. 'Now say still, will you?'

I look to Lucius, wondering if he's going to just stand there and watch while his friend treats me like a prize piece of meat.

But Lucius isn't smirking anymore. He's frowning slightly at Dolohov, who makes another tearing motion with his wand. As he does so, my bra snaps in half.

'STOP IT!'

I struggle frantically, trying to kick my legs out to stop him from coming any closer, but I find that my ankles have been pinned to the wall as well. Although I twist and turn as hard as I can, I can't do anything to keep him away from me or myself covered up.

He just laughs at me, and reaches forward to part the ripped material of my t-shirt with a leer.

Oh God, this is mortifying!

As I attempt to struggle even more furiously against him, I feel my entire body being stuck to the wall, leaving only my head mobile.

'Stay still, pretty. Let me look at you.'

As if I have any other option but to do so!

'Get off of me!' I shout, but he only laughs at me even more. I'm already warm, but I grow hot with embarrassment as he allows his eyes to travel over my exposed breasts, and I feel dirty and cheap and I want my mum and dad, this isn't happening, it isn't, it isn't, no-one's seen me naked before, and Jesus, I thought the Death-Eaters wouldn't use muggle-borns like this!

Just as I prepare myself to spit in Dolohov's face, a hand lays on his shoulder. He turns around to face Lucius, who is pulling Dolohov firmly away from me.

'We don't touch Mudbloods or Muggles, Antonin,' he says, his voice very quiet but pulsing with anger. 'The Dark Lord is very particular about it, as you know. So if you could manage to control yourself, I think it would be for the best.'

Dolohov raises his eyebrows and backs away from me, his hands raised in compliance. The bonds keeping my body to the wall vanish, and I fall forward slightly, pulling my ripped t-shirt closed around me.

Thank God.

I breathe deeply, relief running through me so quickly that I almost feel faint with it.

'If you say so, Lucius,' Dolohov says, with insincere deference. 'But what the Dark Lord doesn't know won't hurt him-'

'So you say, Antonin.' Lucius' voice is very quiet. 'But if he were to find out about your... unusual tastes, I do not believe that he would be best pleased. You know how he feels about such things. Besides, a pure-blood such as yourself should not dirty your hands on a Mudblood. I cannot comprehend why you would want the plain little bitch anyway.'

Don't listen. They're just words; meaningless, empty words.

'Now stop wasting time.' Lucius' voice is curt again, giving orders. He is obviously of a higher standing than Dolohov. 'We have work to do. Set the quill up, will you?'

Lucius brings some parchment and the tiny red quill he used yesterday out of his robes, and hands them to Dolohov, who takes them and, with one last disgusting look at me, turns to go and set them up on the other side of the room.

Lucius turns to me, keeping his eyes on my face. He moves his wand upwards, in a slow, deliberate motion. I look down and see my bra fix itself up again, and then my t-shirt seals up, the two halves of material merging seamlessly together.

I look back up at him, and meet his gaze. It's as cold as ever, without a hint of warmth or kindness.

Nonetheless, I feel some words well up inside of me, something from the depths of my heart, which I have to force back down into myself before I can say them.

Thank you. That's what those words are. Words of gratitude, so often meaningless, but not this time.

I remind myself that he's helped me out of his own conviction that pure-bloods shouldn't dirty their hands on muggle-borns more than out of a desire to save my modesty.

Well, at least I know that he's not going to... to hurt me in that way. Not only that, but he's not going to let anyone else, either. That, at least, is a plus.

He turns away from me and walks over to Dolohov.

I wish it wasn't so hot in here! I'm really, really sweating. It's running off of my skin, making me really uncomfortable.

'Are we going to get started, then?' Dolohov asks Lucius, his eyes lighting up eagerly.

These people enjoy pain, don't they? They enjoy watching another human being scream and writhe in agony.

Sick sick sick sick sick!

'Yes, I think so,' Lucius replies. 'Although I did tell Bella that we'd wait for her. She was most keen to get her revenge on someone we fought against at the Ministry, and you know how much she enjoys this sort of thing-'

Dolohov chuckles.

Bella?

Oh please, not that evil woman!

'But no matter,' Lucius continues. 'To deny her something that would bring her such pleasure will teach her to be a bit more punctual from now on.'

Perhaps she won't turn up. Hopefully, I'll be left with just these two.

A strange thing to hope for.

Lucius turns to the levitated parchment and quill, and speaks clearly over it as he did yesterday;

'Lucius Malfoy, assisted by Antonin Dolohov, resuming the interview with the Mudblood prisoner Granger in cell fifteen.'

I HATE how he calls me that...

It's then that I realise that he has never called me by my first name.

I miss my name. I miss the sound of it, the slightly musical quality is has.

God, my head hurts.

The pen scrawls across the parchment in black ink, and Lucius turns to me.

'Miss Granger,' he says, almost politely. 'You remember the drill, I assume. We will ask questions, and if you fail to answer them correctly then you shall be punished. Is that understood?'

I nod slightly, giving him nothing else. There's no point in pretending that I don't understand him. He'll only choose to 'punish' me for my 'insolence' if I go down that route.

He smiles at me slightly. Perhaps he thinks that I'm finally learning to do as he says.

'Very good. To start us off, I think it would be interesting for you to tell us about Harry Potter's relationship with his family.'

Harry's family. He must mean the Dursleys. They're not going to need to know what Harry thinks about his dead parents.

I could answer this question. Harry hates the Dursleys; to tell Lucius this wouldn't affect anything. All it would mean is that Voldemort wouldn't be able to use them to get to him.

But I'm not going to make Lucius' job easy for him.

For them. He's not on his own anymore.

In a way, I wish he was. I know what to expect from him, at least. I don't know anything about what Dolohov could do, or what Bellatrix Lestrange could do if she turns up.

He's waiting for an answer.

'His parents are dead, Lucius.' He flinches slightly as I say his name. 'I thought that everyone knew that.'

I feel that stinging slap on my cheek again, but I'm so used to it now that I don't even draw breath. I keep my eyes steadily on his.

'Firstly, Mudblood, I think I made it clear yesterday that I will not accept insolence from you.' His voice is quiet, so quiet. 'Secondly, you know full well that I am not asking you about his parents. I am asking about the family he lives with. His Aunt, his Uncle and is cousin. Do not pretend that you are stupid, Miss Granger. It doesn't suit you.'

What does he mean by that?

It doesn't matter.

I can't answer him, even though giving him this information can't really cause any harm.

I can't answer him because I can't let him beat me again.

'I'm sorry,' I say, watching him closely for his reaction. 'Harry never mentioned his family to us. I don't know anything about them.'

He takes a deep breath. He knows that I'm lying. Of course he does. He steps closer to me, and grips me by the chin, looking down into my face as if he's inspecting me.

'You're looking tired, Mudblood,' he says, his voice patronising. 'And not all that well either, if truth be told. You don't look as if you could withstand much pain this evening.'

'There's nothing wrong with me!' I hiss at him, even though my head's pounding so badly my ears are roaring. 'I am perfectly capable of withstanding any amount of pain you are prepared to throw at me, so I suggest that you stop wasting time and get it over with, because I won't answer you.'

I expect him to smile, to take the opportunity I have presented to him and use it to cause me more pain. I expect him to instantly attempt to force an answer out of me.

But he doesn't. He just stares back at me long and hard, his eyes burning into mine and his grip tight on my chin.

'It's not wise to provoke me, Miss Granger. I thought I had taught you that lesson yesterday.' He brings his wand up to my face, and uses it to brush a lock of hair away from my cheek. 'Don't be a fool, now-'

'I'm not a fool,' I snap at him. I'm sick of him calling me that. 'If I were a fool then I would tell you what Harry thinks of his family without hesitation.'

Lucius takes a deep breath through his nose, his mouth set in a very thin line.

The knowledge that I'm pissing him off terrifies me, but at the same time makes me feel elated, excited, and satisfied. It's the one small bit of power I have over him: the ability to make him angry.

'Oh, come on, Lucius!' I jump slightly at Dolohov's voice. I'd almost forgotten he was here. 'She's not going to answer, not without a bit of encouragement. Let's teach her a lesson-'

'No,' says Lucius, his eyes still on me, his voice very quiet, and his words are for me, I know this. 'I want to give her the opportunity to answer us first.'

He steps back from me then, giving me space once more. I look from Dolohov's pale, twisted face to Lucius' smoothly aristocratic one. Both of them are wearing the same expression of expectancy.

'Your attitude has changed since yesterday,' I say quietly, looking at Lucius. 'Don't tell me you listened to what I said to you.'

His face darkens slightly.

Oh yes. Make him angry. Piss him off. Use that power over him.

Dolohov looks enquiringly at him.

'What is she talking about?'

I raise my eyebrows at Lucius, who glares back at me.

I dare you to tell him.

I fucking dare you!

'Nothing. She just thinks she's being clever, that's all.'

He strides over to me and pulls me forward roughly by the arm, standing me in the middle of the room. I wrench myself out of his grip. The pair of them begin to circle me, like lions around their prey.

'Harry Potter has never spoken to you about his family?' says Lucius, his voice brimming with impatience. 'How long have you been friends with him? It must be at least... six years? I find it very hard to believe that in all that time he has never mentioned his family, not even in passing.'

He's getting angrier and angrier. His voice is tight with suppressed rage. Well I'll just have to face it when he inevitably snaps and starts to torture me, because I'm not going to give him what he wants again.

'I've told you, I can't help you.' My voice is beginning to waver. 'He never once spoke to me about them.'

Dolohov stops next to the levitating parchment, and looks down at what is written there. 'She's lying.'

'Of course she's lying!' Lucius hisses, finally losing his patience.

Oh God, he's going to hurt me again!

Of course he is? What were you expecting him to do when you refused to give him what he wants? You can't have it both ways.

Lucius comes closer to me, so close that he's practically standing on my toes. He looks down into my face. 'This is your last chance,' he says to me, his voice very low, so low it makes my heart catch in my throat. I don't think he intends for Dolohov to hear him. 'You know what I can do. I can make you suffer horrors beyond imagining with a mere wave of my wand. You know this. Tell me what I need to know, and you need not go through yet more pain.' He pauses, and when he speaks again his voice is so quiet that I can barely hear him. 'Or have you not learned your lesson since yesterday?'

I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.

Why don't I just give him this one bit of information? It can't hurt anyone. Why don't I let him win, just this once?

Because you promised yourself that you would never do that. Don't let them win - remember, Hermione?

I meet his eyes, and when I speak my voice is almost as quiet as his own.

'No. I guess I'm not such a fast learner, after all.'

Something glints in his eyes. Recognition of a previous conversation, perhaps. I don't know. It's gone before I can see what it is.

What I do know is that he is going to torture me again.

He steps back, and speaks to Dolohov without looking away from me.

'You may do the honours, Antonin.'

Why won't he do it himself? For the last few days he seems to have relished causing me pain.

Then I remember him laughing as Voldemort tortured me. So at ease when he could watch somebody else do his dirty work for him.

Coward.

He's looking at me, frowning slightly.

I remember what Harry told me about Occumelency - that weird mind-reading trick that Snape had to teach him about. What did he say? You need to make eye contact in order for it to work.

I might not be able to do Occumelency myself, but I'm sure that a fully trained wizard such as Lucius Malfoy can.

I think the word 'Coward' with all of my might, all the while keeping my gaze fixed on his. I scream the word in my head, focusing every nerve, every particle of my brain on that little word, all the while staring at him so hard that it makes my eyes water.

His frown deepens as he continues to meet my gaze. He knows what I'm thinking. I'm sure of it.

Yes. Make him hurt, just that little bit.

Dolohov distracts me by stepping forward, his features alight with excitement.

'Keep her conscious if you can, Antonin,' Lucius says coolly.

If you can? Oh, Jesus!

Dolohov smiles complacently.

'I'm not an idiot, Lucius.'

Lucius pulls a face which demonstrates that he doesn't quite hold with that view.

I feel the desire to laugh bubble up within me, rising up in my chest. I have to work very hard to fight against it, to stop myself from smiling.

What's wrong with me?

My wish to laugh leaves me the moment that my gaze falls on Dolohov. He makes that familiar, slashing movement with his wand, muttering an incantation that I can't hear over the thumping of my own heartbeat roaring in my ears.

No not again not again no no!

Purple light streaks out of the end of his wand.

Oh my God, my CHEST! I feel like all of my ribs have broken, like all of my organs have collapsed in on themselves!

It hurts so much!

I want to faint, and although I go light-headed and my vision blacks out, for some reason I'm still conscious.

I should be fainting, but... but I can't!

And it's all dark. I'm floating through darkness as pain spins through my ribs, my heart, my chest.

I fall to the floor. At least, I think I do. I feel the tearing pain in my knees, as if they've hit stone.

'Give it some thought, Miss Granger.' I can hear Lucius' voice through the darkness as though it's far, far away. 'This information is nothing compared to what you gave us yesterday. You don't even know these people. What does it matter to you what we find out about them?'

He's right. How can it hurt anyone I love?

And they won't use Harry's family against him. He hates them, why would they?

Don't be so bloody stupid, Hermione! You can't let them beat you!

I hear that voice of reason cut through everything else, through all the darkness, through the pain and the agony, and the noise of my own thoughts.

'Just say 'yes' if you want to help us,' says Lucius, his voice so, so far away. 'We'll stop this right now, if you want...'

I don't speak, and another wave of pain runs through me, crushing my ribs into my lungs and my heart. I'm dizzy with the pain. I feel sick with it... wave after wave of agony runs through me, and I'm screaming, and my chest is collapsing, and why am I still conscious?

I can still feel my body working, but my head feels as if it's shutting down against the pain, against the suffering. I can't think properly, I can only feel, pain misery pain pain pain.

I can't take it. I open my mouth to answer them...

But, just as my mouth falls open, the torture stops.

Twanging spasms of pain are still running through me, right through my ribs. But they are less intense than before, and recede with each pulsing wave.

My mind is clearing. I can feel all of my body pressed against the floor, and the darkness is fading around me.

I open my eyes slowly, looking down at the black stone floor. My mind is coming back to me. I can think clearly again.

Why did they stop?

I look up slowly, my whole body shaking, and I realise that there are now four of us in the room.

The door of my cell is open, and a dark-haired woman is leaning languidly on the doorframe, a smile on her face and her eyebrows raised in a haughty expression.

I know who she is. I'd recognise that face anywhere; even if it hadn't been looking down from 'Wanted' posters all over Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. I recognise it, because it's haunted my dreams for over a year now.

'Having fun, are we,' she says, her voice thick with sadistic pleasure. She steps into the room and pushes the door shut behind her, locking it with a lazy flick of her wand.

Dolohov backs away from her, eyeing her with a kind of abashed reverence. God, he's pathetic!

I look at Lucius, wondering if she has the same effect on him. But she doesn't. He's meeting her imperious gaze as an equal, and smiling back at her.

'You're late, Bella,' he says, without any real reproach in his voice.

She shrugs, that evil smile not leaving her face.

'Something came up. Rudolphus and I encountered a Muggle family walking their dog on our way over here.' She licks her lips, slowly. 'I'm afraid we just couldn't resist.'

Oh, shit!

Antonin chuckles malevolently. Lucius raises his eyebrows at her, sharing that sick smile of hers.

'Indeed. But business before pleasure, Bella; you know that.'

She smirks at her brother-in-law, before shifting her gaze on to me. From the floor, I meet her eyes. They're skittish, like they've got too much energy on them.

'You're not making a brilliant start, are you?' she says with mocking in her voice. 'There's barely a scratch on her. Has she talked?'

'Not yet, but she will,' says Lucius, who look down at me as he stands next to Bellatrix. 'She did yesterday, quickly enough.'

Anger boils and steams like a spring inside of me, and I speak before I can stop myself.

'You had to drag every word I said out of me, and you know it-'

He flicks his wand at me quickly, and my teeth sink into my tongue before I can say anymore.

'You'll speak when spoken to,' says Lucius as I wince with pain.

Evil arrogant vindictive bastard!

'As you can see, she does like to insist on courage.' His voice is dripping with derision as he smirks at me. He's talking for Bella, but his words are meant for me. 'You know how tedious these Muggles can be.'

'I'm not a muggle-' I start to say, but Lucius forces me to bite down on my tongue again. My teeth sink into the meaty thickness of it, cutting the flesh, making it bleed.

Bellatrix gives a small, malicious giggle.

'You need to break her spirit before you do anything else, Lucius.' She watches me as she talks, her eyes positively glittering with excitement. 'Physical pain is marvellous; I know that above all things. Nothing is more guaranteed to loosen a stubborn tongue. But you've got to soften them up first; it makes the task in hand a lot easier in the long run.'

She's evil. Twisted. A complete and utter psycho!

'And, of course,' - she goes on remorselessly - 'it makes things a lot more fun for us, doesn't it?'

Dolohov laughs callously, a grating, guttural sound. Lucius smiles slightly, and he gestures to me as he speaks to her.

'As you say, Bella. Why don't you start us off?'

I look up at him, horror and disbelief overwhelming me for a moment, robbing me of my breath and stopping my heart.

He smile widens as he reads the emotions on my face.

'Go on, Bella,' he drawls. 'Show us how it's done.'

I can't believe him! If he wants to hurt me, why can't he do it himself?

'Coward,' I whisper.

He sees me, though neither of the others do. His smile vanishes and a muscle twitches slightly in his face as he reads my lips.

Bellatrix steps towards me, crouches down next to me and looks into my face. I meet her mad, feverish eyes, attempting to keep my expression neutral.

'You appear to be sweating, Mudblood,' she says with distain. 'Is it too hot in here for you? I was under the impression that this room was on the chilly side.'

Does she have to point it out? I'm so warm my hair is damp on my neck.

'Perhaps you are wearing too many layers.'

No. Oh God, no!

I feel sick with panic and icy chunks run through my veins.

I won't let them undress me! I won't!

I look up at Lucius, expecting him to put his foot down as he did with Dolohov.

But he doesn't say anything. He just watches Bellatrix with a slight frown on his face.

She stands up.

'Get up, Muggle,' she says. 'It is impolite to sit in the presence of your betters.'

She's so similar to Lucius. Maybe he married the wrong Black sister. God, what kind of unholy union would that be?

I won't do as she says. I'm not going to get up just so that she can take my clothes away from me.

'Why else do you think I'm remaining on the floor?' I say quietly. 'I see none of my 'betters' here.'

She continues to smile down at me.

'Oh dear,' she says. 'She has ideas above her station. Never mind, I am sure I can find a remedy for that.'

She flicks her wand at me.

Spasms of pain run in shivers down my back, again and again.

And again.

And it gets worse as it goes on, worse and worse with every juddering shiver.

Get up, Hermione. It's not worth it.

I pull myself up on to my feet, nearly collapsing forward as I do so. The pain stops as soon as I stand up.

I look at the three of them. Bellatrix is smiling triumphantly. Dolohov is lightly laughing at me. Lucius' face is a blank mask once more.

'She certainly is a wilful one,' says Bellatrix. 'I think that stripping away her dignity might do her the world of good.' She turns to her brother-in-law. 'Do you want to do the honours, Lucius?'

Lucius' lip curls up in disgust, as if the idea of my naked body truly repulses him.

'Please, Bella, I only ate half an hour ago.'

Those words really hurt me. They hit me like a slap in the face. I don't know why; I don't want him to want to take my clothes off.

It's just... I can't stand it. He just seems so determined to make me feel as much like shit as is humanly possible.

'Please yourself,' shrugs Bellatrix, turning to Dolohov. 'Antonin? I know that you have... leanings, shall we say. You can do it.'

Dolohov comes over to me, rubbing his hands with glee. I quite literally feel my stomach turn, as fear and revulsion churn in my gut. I step backwards, trying to get as far away as possible from him as he approaches me.

He chuckles softly, enjoying the sport.

Get away from me don't touch me I don't want to...

I reach the wall, and I can't get any further away from him. I press myself into the wall behind me, and he stands in front of me, so close that I can smell his putrid breath, feel the warmth of it on my face. It makes me want to gag.

He leans in to me and places his cold hand on the bare skin just above the neckline of my t-shirt. The touch sends a shiver through me, one that makes my stomach clench itself in and my legs to lock together.

'Oh, I am going to enjoy this,' he says, practically licking his lips in anticipation.

I won't let him do this!

I won't let them do this!

He reaches forward and puts his other hand under my t-shirt, on my stomach. All of my muscles tense involuntarily. I can't stand it. I instinctively kick out at him, catching him in a particularly sensitive area.

He recoils, howling and clutching at his crotch. Bellatrix screams with laughter. She's laughing so hard that she's almost bent double with it. I look at Lucius, to see how he's reacting to more 'disobedience' on my part.

His mouth is twitching slightly, as if he's repressing the desire to laugh.

'You little BITCH!' Dolohov roars, stopping their hilarity dead. He makes to move back over to me, but Lucius grabs hold of him by the arm before he can reach me.

'Now now, Antonin, don't take it personally,' he says soothingly. 'You've got to see her point of view. After all, what self respecting woman would let you near them if she wasn't being paid for it?'

Bellatrix smirks at that, while Dolohov colours up with resentment.

Bellatrix flicks her wand at me, and I fall to the floor. I try to move, to pick myself up again, but once again my entire body has gone entirely limp. All of my muscles have become completely useless with a single wave of her wand.

It's the exact same curse that Lucius placed on me in the woods.

I hate it. I hate it more than the body binder curse, because my body can still move, should someone else choose to move it for me. They can manipulate my body any way they want to. They can do anything they like to me, and I won't be able to stop it.

I've fallen onto my side. I suppose that's better than falling onto my back. At least from here I can see around the room. I can see Lucius at the other side of my cell. I can just see Bellatrix if I roll my eyes up as far as I can. I can see Dolohov's legs right in front of me, walking towards me.

I look to Lucius, willing him to do something, anything, to help me. In my mind I scream at him to stop Dolohov as he did before.

But he doesn't even look at me. His eyes are fixed on a middle distance, deliberately looking anywhere but at me.

Coward.

It's the one thought that comforts me.

'Go ahead, Antonin,' says Bellatrix smugly. 'She will not fight back now, you can be sure of that.'

'Is this really necessary, Bella?' asks Lucius, frowning at her. 'Isn't this somewhat beneath us? She is a Muggle, after all-'

'You told me only this morning that the little Mudblood has too much pride, Lucius,' she replies. 'What better way to begin to take it away? As you say, she's a muggle. That makes her little more than an animal. Animals don't need clothing. It makes sense, doesn't it?'

He doesn't reply, but gives the tiniest of nods.

I hate him. He has this opportunity to help me, but he will not take it. Evidently, my suffering means more to him than his strict principles of not allowing a wizard to molest a muggle-born.

Dolohov gives a lewd chuckle and crouches over me, rubbing his hands together with glee. I feel my insides shrivel up with revulsion and embarrassment as he begins to pull each of my garments off of me with a terrible slowness. I can't stop him, I can't stop it. I just lie there, as he shifts my body so that he can remove my clothes. My skin feels as if a thousand insects are crawling along it.

To distract myself, I watch Lucius. He won't look at me. His eyes are fixed on the wall above me. He won't watch as I'm robbed of my dignity.

Look at me, you coward!

Dolohov pulls my blood stained t-shirt up over my head, and I feel flakes of dried blood scatter lightly on my skin.

Stop stop stop! Please stop!

I would beg if I were able to speak.

He peels my muddy jeans off of me, slowly edging them inch by inch down my legs.

Please, please, please, no!

When I thought how nice it would be to have a change of clothes, this wasn't what I had in mind.

Still Lucius keeps his eyes off of me. He keeps them fixed on a middle distance.

Look at me. Look at what you won't stop.

Dolohov finally removes my underwear. I feel humiliation and disgust wash over me as I hear his breathing quicken over me. I think I'm going to be sick!

I look at Lucius with tears in my eyes as my face burns with embarrassment. He won't look at me. Why not?

Why not?

LOOK AT ME!

At that moment his eyes fall on me. But he's not looking at my body. He stares straight into my eyes.

COWARD, I scream inwardly, focusing all of my energy onto thinking that word.

His face clouds over. He can hear what I'm thinking.

Good. Then perhaps he can feel even the slightest bit as angry as I feel now.

I feel a hand on my ribs, just under my right breast, and I'm shocked out of my eye contact with Lucius.

I should've known that Dolohov wouldn't be able to pass up an opportunity like this. His cold fingers are pressing down on my skin, and I can't struggle away from him, although every instinct I have is screaming for me to do so. I can't do anything. All I can do is hope that this is as far as it'll go...

But almost as soon as he touches me, he draws breath and quickly pulls his hand away from me, as if he's been burned.

'I may be willing to accept you looking at her, Antonin, but you can't touch her.' Lucius is pointing is wand at Dolohov. 'She's a Mudblood; remember it. Do try to show some dignity.'

'Oh, come on-' Dolohov begins imploringly, but Bellatrix cuts him short.

'No, Antonin, touching them is not allowed. You know that. We all know that. If you must take a Muggle woman, at least have the decency to do it while no-one's watching.'

If I could, I would shudder.

Dolohov steps back from me with a reluctant sigh, and I feel my body shiver. I recognise the feeling; it means I can move again. I sit up as quickly as I can, pulling my knees up and hugging them to my chest, trying to cover as much of my body as possible.

I look up at all of them. Dolohov is leering at me disgustingly. Bellatrix is smiling gloatingly. Lucius' face is impassive.

I hate how I can't do Occumelency like he can. I'd give anything to know what he's thinking, sometimes. I've never found it so difficult to read a person as I do with him.

'Now then,' - Bellatrix turns to Lucius matter-of-factly - 'what do we have to get out of her first?'

'Potter's relationship with his remaining family,' he replies, his voice clipped and businesslike. 'So far, she has not told us anything. She claims that he never mentioned them to her.'

'Does she now?' says Bellatrix, sneering at me mockingly. 'What... methods have you used so far to make her talk?'

'Antonin placed a curse on her,' Lucius says indifferently. 'But it didn't seem to have much effect.'

Didn't seem to have much of an effect?

I'd like to see him last five minutes under that curse.

'Ah yes, his old favourite!' Bellatrix chuckles, turning to Dolohov. 'You know I admire it, Antonin, but you've got to branch out once in a while-'

'Why branch out, if it works?' I can hear the resentment in Dolohov's voice. 'She would have sung soon enough if you hadn't interrupted us.'

What he's saying is true, but I don't let them know that. I'd rather they 'branched out' than use that on me again.

'Yes, I'm sure she would have.' Lucius rolls his eyes at Bellatrix as he speaks. 'But I have to say I agree with you Bella. We must be able to come up with more imaginative ways of making her talk.'

You bastard!

Bellatrix smiles at me, and I cringe inwardly with terror.

'Lucius, I'm sure that you can do better.' She gestures to me. 'Let me see your favoured methods; I might learn a trick or two. Improve my technique, perhaps.'

Oh my God!

This is a game to them. It's all a sick, twisted game. And I am the toy they can play it with.

Lucius looks down at me, his face completely unreadable.

Will he do it? I thought that perhaps, after what I said yesterday, he might not be able to hurt me today...

How wrong I was. He's calmly stepping towards me, twirling his wand between his fingers.

I curl myself up tighter against the wall, determined to keep my body hidden from him.

He stands above me, and taps his wand against his chin as he looks at me, making a show of deciding what method to use.

How could I think that I'd got through to him? How could I be stupid enough to believe that Lucius Malfoy, a man who has murdered and tortured countless others without remorse, could feel pity for a Mudblood teenager?

He slowly brings his wand down, and points it at my face. For a few moments, nothing happens, and I wonder whether he really is going to curse me, and I shake and sweat as I wait and I wonder...

Until my eyes begin to burn.

Oh God, what's happening?

I gasp and bring my hands up to my eyes, rubbing them hastily in an effort to get rid of the pain. But it only makes them worse! I'm almost literally blinded by agony as my eyes burn in their sockets, getting hotter and hotter every second.

But... I can still see!

I look through the gaps between my fingers, and everything's blurry but I've still got my sight. I rub at my eyes desperately, but as I do so I feel a wetness around the sockets. I bring them away to see what it is, and see that my hands have blood on them.

My eyes are bleeding!

I don't believe it!

I can't take it. I begin to scream in shock and horror and agony as my eyes burn and weep blood, and oh my god how can I still see?

To tell them wouldn't hurt anyone, Hermione. No principle is worth this.

I give one last yell of pain, and I feel blood pop out of my eyes and stream down my face and it feels like nails are being screwed into my eyeballs, scraping them out of their sockets, and I know that I can't go on. This could blind me if I let it carry on.

'He hates them, alright!' I scream at them, wanting more than anything for the pain to end. 'He can't stand them... he doesn't even live with them anymore!'

For a few agonising moments, nothing happens.

But then the pain leaves, and my eyes stop burning and bleeding.

I breathe heavily, wiping the blood from my face as best as I can. I feel the warm, sticky, bitter-sweet smelling liquid smear across my face under my fingers. When I open my eyes, my vision is no longer blurry.

It still amazes me how I can be at the height of agony one minute and yet perfectly alright again the next.

I can see them all looking in each-other, their faces full of disappointment.

Oh God, what did I tell them?

It's ok, Hermione. They can't use that to hurt anyone. It's ok.

That's not the point. I didn't want to help them anymore than I have done already.

I'm weak. There's no getting around it. I'm so weak that I can't go five minutes without giving in to torture.

I hate myself. Stupid, gutless, weak weak weak weak weak little girl.

Dolohov checks the parchment, before turning to the others, who wait for what he says with grim expressions.

'She's telling the truth.'

Lucius and Bellatrix both curl their lips up in displeasure.

'Damn,' Bellatrix says under her breath.

'It doesn't matter,' says Lucius. 'She named plenty of people he could use instead yesterday. When he needs someone, he will have a huge amount of names to choose from. I made sure of that. He will have to strike his family off of his list of possibilities, but I'm sure that will not matter to him.'

They're consoling each other! As if the lack of useful information they can give to Voldemort is a great loss...

It is to them. Who knows what he'll do to them if they turn out unsatisfactory information?

The three of them all turn away from each other, back to face me. I grip my knees yet tighter to my chest.

'You are doing well so far, Mudblood,' says Lucius, his voice calm, and almost pleasant. 'Do you begin to understand, perhaps, that in this world there are no morals, and no principles - only irrational notions for fools to cling on to.'

I take a deep breath through my nose, determined that I won't be weak. I won't give him any more of a victory over me than he already has.

'I'm afraid I don't understand.' My voice is shaking although I attempt to keep it level. 'Perhaps I need a different teacher. Or perhaps you need to revise your... methods, as you call them.'

I wait for the stinging magical slap across my face, but it doesn't come. The three of them just stand there, smiling at each other.

'Oh, she's a brave little baby, isn't she?' says Bellatrix, her voice laden with derision.

'You don't know this one like I do, Bella,' says Lucius, regarding me with a small smile. 'She does so like to keep up a charade of courage. But you should have seen her after a few rounds of pain yesterday; I made her cry like the little girl she is.'

His words cause something deep within me to rip in half, and anger explodes in my gut.

'I'm not a little girl!' I scream, banging my fists in rage against the wall behind me. 'I'm not a baby! I'm seventeen years old! I'm as adult as any of you!'

There's a long silence.

Shit, I've made them angry.

Why can't you keep yourself under control?

But then Bellatrix starts to snigger slightly, and before long the three of them are laughing at me. And they all start clapping me; bringing their hands together in a slow, derisive applause.

I can't bear it. I can't stand them mocking me!

'SHUT UP!' I scream. I want to stand up, to face them on their own level, but my desire to keep my body hidden from them overrides my pride. 'JUST SHUT UP, SHUT UP!'

They stop clapping me, and their laughter dies away as they all look at me with incredulous smirks on their faces.

'Perhaps she needs a few more lessons in respect, Lucius,' says Dolohov. 'It appears that she still has some learning to do.'

They all watch me as I take some deep breaths in an attempt to get a hold of myself.

'Let's ask her another question,' says Bellatrix, her eyes alight with challenge. 'But let's make it one that she can't possibly answer without a struggle. Let her realise just how quickly she can crack under pressure. I am sure that will knock the arrogance out of her.'

Lucius smiles at her. 'I like that idea, Bella. And I have an idea of what we might ask her. As you know, the Dark Lord has always been unable to touch the boy while he resides in his Aunt's house. But, as the Mudblood has informed us, Potter no longer lives with his aunt. If we could discover where he is currently residing, then the Dark Lord will be able to seek him out without having to worry about the protection the boy's mother's blood provides for him.'

Shit!

Oh God, what have I done!

I thought that telling them that Harry hates the Dursley's wouldn't do any harm. But it's only led to them asking this of me.

I can't give them this. No matter what they do.

Be strong, hold out, let them hurt you, it doesn't matter.

Lucius turns back to me.

'I wonder if you could tell us where Harry Potter is, Mudblood, seeing as he no longer lives with his family, as you so kindly informed us.'

I so kindly informed them?

I feel sick with self-loathing. I'm weak, and disgusting.

I don't answer his question. I can't answer that. It's one thing to put your friends in danger, as I unwillingly did yesterday, but it's quite another to put one in the direct line of fire. Besides, telling them where he is wouldn't just put Harry in danger. It would lead them to Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys, and anyone else who might be staying there for the wedding.

They all watch me, awaiting an answer.

I look at Lucius. He knows I'm not going to answer without a fight, he must know that by now. But he's waiting for my initial response with a slight smile on his face.

He enjoys this. He enjoys forcing me into giving them the information I so badly want to keep from them. He might hate my 'disobedience', but he also enjoys watching me being forced into submission.

He's just one step up from a rapist.

I raise my head as high as I can before I answer.

'I won't tell you.' I'm saying this more to Lucius than to either of the others. My real battle is against him, I realise that now. It has been ever since he appeared in my bedroom. 'You know that I won't. So you might as well move on to your next question, because you won't get an answer to that out of me.'

All three of them continue to smile. Lucius smiles the widest, enjoying this game he has played with me many times now.

'We'll see about that,' he says quietly. 'I'm inclined to believe that you'll tell all, soon enough.'

I won't. I'll never tell you, never, never, never-

'Shall we use crucio?' asks Dolohov rolling up his sleeves in preparation.

'No,' says Lucius. 'Not yet. I think we can afford a little... experimentation, first.'

Experimentation?

My body tenses, preparing itself for what's to come almost wearily.

How long will it be before you get sick of this game, Hermione?

I push that thought out of my mind, squash it, kill it, and I focus on what Lucius is going to do to me now in this moment.

But he surprises me. Instead of pointing his wand at me, he flicks it in mid-air beside him, and catches a pretty, ornate silver hand mirror in his hand.

What the...?

Dolohov and Bellatrix watch him curiously as he walks over to me and crouches down next to me. I huddle yet closer in on myself, attempting to keep as much of my nakedness covered as possible.

'Look at yourself, Miss Granger,' he says, holding the mirror up in front of me.

I see my pale face staring back at me from the glass. God, I look terrible! There are traces of blood and dirt smeared all over my face, and my frizzy hair is plastered to my head with sweat and grease. I'm so pale that my skin is almost yellow, and there are black circles under my red-rimmed eyes.

'I imagine you've never really liked the way you look, have you?' Lucius asks, his voice coldly cruel. 'I don't blame you, my dear, really I don't. You're not exactly a beauty, are you?'

I think I'm going to cry.

He's right. I've never been happy with my looks. With good reason, if what I can see in this mirror is anything to go by. And now I've had it spelled out for me by him. He thinks I'm hideous.

Why do you care about how he thinks you look?

I don't care!

As I look in the mirror, appalled by my own face, suddenly my appearance begins to change. I don't know what's happening at first, but then I realise that it's my teeth. My two front teeth.

They... they're growing!

I watch in horror as my teeth grow so large that I can't keep my lips over them anymore. They grow and grow, not stopping until I've got an overbite worthy of a beaver.

Shit shit shit!

I begin to whimper slightly in shock, and I look at Lucius, who keep his eyes intently on the mirror. Despite myself, I look back at the reflective glass, seeing only my gigantic new teeth. I feel tears prickle in my eyes...

But he's not finished yet.

I feel a slight shiver run over the top of my head. I instinctively run my hand over it, and as I do, I realise that my hair is falling away from my head, coming away in my fingers.

I try to grip at it my hair, to stop it from falling out, but it just comes away effortlessly in my hands. My brown, frizzy hair is lying in clumps on the floor all around me. Looking back into the mirror, I see that I am almost completely bald, my hair's falling out so fast!

That's it. I can't hold in anymore. Pain and confusion and embarrassment and hate hate hate all crash down on me, tearing sobs and tears up from the bottom of my chest.

I burst into tears as it all comes screaming to the surface. I cover my eyes with my hands, unable too look at my reflection anymore.

I hear him stand up, and walk away from me. I cower naked against the wall, clinging to my bald head with both hands and sobbing through my new teeth.

I can hear Bellatrix laughing.

How can she find this funny?

'That's brilliant!' She's laughing so hard that she can barely speak. 'Oh god, that is absolutely priceless!'

I really begin to sob then. I wail out my pain and my humiliation and my hatred, clutching at my poor, bald head.

'Miss Granger,' - Lucius has to shout to make himself heard over my sobs and Bellatrix's laughter - 'you don't have to stay like that. If you tell me what I... what we want to know, I shall allow your hair to grow back, and your teeth to shrink again. Just say the word, and you'll be normal once more.'

'What do you think I am?' I say, struggling to get my words out. My new teeth are making speech very difficult for me, and I'm dribbling as I try to talk. 'Do you think I care so much about my looks that I'll just tell you where Harry is?'

That's what I try to say, anyway. But I'm obviously not making a very good job of it. Every word trips me up; my teeth making me lisp and slobber.

I can hear Bellatrix and Dolohov screaming with laughter. Fresh tears come to my eyes, and I grip myself around my head, rocking back and forth as I sob; big, hard, painful gulps that hurt my entire body.

I'm a monster!

'Oh this is too much!' says Bellatrix, struggling to get her breath through her laughter. 'Granted, you weren't a beauty before, but God knows it was an improvement on how you look now.'

I hate her, I HATE HER!

'LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU HEARTLESS BITCH!' I scream, really struggling with my new teeth.

For a while, I keep my hands over my head, trying to get my sobbing under control. It takes me a few moments to realise that they've stopped laughing.

I look up at them.

They're all smiling at me.

'Do you think you're being noble, Mudblood?' Lucius asks, a sadistic smile slashed across his face. 'Do you think you're being strong? Because I don't believe that you are. I think you're faking it. I can see the fear, and the pain written all over that hideous face of yours. Just how much longer can you keep this charade going?'

'A heartless bitch, am I?' asks Bellatrix, something awful glimmering in those black eyes of hers as she smiles at me. 'Oh, believe me, I haven't even started. Stay still, little Muggle, and I will show you just how heartless I can be.'

She slowly raises her wand.

Oh no!

'Crucio!'

Oh sweet Jesus! It's worse. It's SO MUCH WORSE! I kick my legs out frantically through the air in front of me. Oh God, I must be about to die!

It leaves me. I collapse onto my side, weeping on the floor.

'Would you like a go, Antonin?'

'Oh no, please! Not again!'

They're not listening. They're enjoying themselves too much.

Dolohov's deep voice rings out clearly;

'Crucio!'

Aaaaaaaaaargh, noooo! I can't do this, I can't! What have I done? WHAT DID I DO?

The pain vanishes. I can't stop shaking, and I can't stop crying through my giant, disgusting teeth.

I hear Lucius' voice over the sound of my own sobs.

'I can't allow you two to have all the fun.'

Oh no, what's wrong with him?

'Crucio!'

Oh no, OH NO! This is worse, worse than any of them... I can't breathe, I can't think for pain!

And it's not stopping. It just won't stop!

Oh God, it won't finish, he won't lift it! It just goes on and on, never, ever ending! I claw through the air, fighting against everything, anything, whatever it is that's hurting me.

It's got to FINISH! I want it to end. I want everything to just go away!

Let me die!

'LET ME DIE!'

As if feel myself scream out those words, it finishes. It finally finishes.

I'm curled up in a ball, shaking and shaking. I hurt with the shaking. I breathe deeply and quickly, trying to get my body back to normal. I keep my eyes closed in utter exhaustion.

Tell them, Hermione. You can't go on like this.

I can! I can go on!

I've got to.

I've got to!

'Talk, Miss Granger.' I hear Lucius' voice as though it's a million miles away. 'Talk, and you can end this. It's entirely in your hands.'

'You've said that before,' I murmur, keeping my eyes closed. 'But it didn't end. It never ends.'

There's a long silence as I struggle to get my breath back. Sweat pours down my naked back as I shiver on the floor.

'We can hurt you more, if you wish it,' Lucius says, his voice closer than it was before. 'But I wouldn't advise you to take us down that route. You don't look as if you'll be able to take it.'

I keep my head on the floor, and I pull my answer out of the depths of my rage and my pain.

'I won't tell you this.' I'm almost whispering, and I keep my head on the floor, but I'm sure that they can hear me. 'I have given you everything, all of the information you have asked me for so far. Let that be enough for you. I won't lead you directly to any of my friends. You'll have to kill me first.'

There's a long, long silence.

Maybe they'll stop. Maybe they'll realise I'm not going to talk this time, no matter how hard they push me.

Then I feel myself being lifted vertically, up from the safe refuge of the ground into the cold, unforgiving air. For a brief moment I see the three of them looking at me, before I am slammed back into the wall behind me. Lightening bolts shoot through my body and all of the bones in my body feel like they've broken and I'm bruised, I'm bruised all over. I try to move away from the wall, but I'm pinned there by something invisible.

Shit, I'm naked!

'Why won't you tell us what we need to know?' asks Bellatrix. The smile has finally vanished from her face.

I don't think she enjoys it when things don't go her way.

'Why? Does it make you feel strong?' Her voice is growing tight with irritation. 'Does it make you feel powerful; this small, tiny little hold you have over the situation you are in?'

No! I'm going through all of this to protect my friends! Not that I'd expect people like you to understand that!

'I think it makes her feel good about herself,' Lucius says to Bellatrix, though he's looking at me. His words are intended for me, I know this. 'If she denies us, then she can allow herself to believe that she is the one who is in the right. She can tell herself that she is a good person, for holding out against us.'

'It's got nothing to do with my own self-belief!' The words fall out of my mouth, bursting into the air. 'I'm doing this to protect the people I love! Can't you understand that?'

Stupid question!

Lucius sneers at me.

'Love is very overrated, Miss Granger,' he says, his voice quiet. 'It is certainly not worth dying for. You will discover that, in time.'

I don't understand him. Isn't he a husband, and a father?

'Don't you love your wife, or your son?' I ask, although the last time I mentioned Draco to him I was rewarded with a kicking. 'Wouldn't you die for them, if you had to?'

I don't know what I'm trying to achieve. To make him feel guilty, perhaps?

I should've known better.

He turns from me, rolling his eyes at Bellatrix. 'Perhaps we need to take a different approach.'

'What do you mean?' Dolohov asks him.

'I mean, Antonin, that if she won't respond to cruelty, perhaps she might respond to kindness.'

He pulls that silver, ornate mirror he presented to me before out of his robes, and holds it in front of me. Tears cling to my eyelids as I see my horrible face, with its giant teeth and its bald head.

But then my face changes, once more. My teeth reduce in size, gradually shrinking back to their normal state. I gasp as happy relief overwhelms me, and I watch my face return to some semblance of normality. And almost at the same time, my hair grows again. The baldness completely disappears as my hair grows back, big and bushy around my head, surrounding it like a big, brown, luminous halo. I run my hand over my head, to check that it's not a trick of the mirror. But it's there, it's all there! God, it's glorious, it's wonderful! Big, fluffy, bushy, wild...

I'll never, ever complain about my appearance again.

But he doesn't stop there.

My hair continues to change. The colour changes subtly; it's chestnut coloured, rather than it's usual mousey brown. And it's wavy, no longer bushy. All of the frizziness eases out of it, and it falls in beautiful ringlets around my shoulders, cascading in gorgeous, glossy waves.

And... there's something else. I think it's in my face itself.

The change is subtle, but at the same time immense. My bones seem to become finer. I suddenly have the cheekbones of a super-model. And my eyes are bigger, and wider, with eyelashes so long I could almost pass for Bambi. The colour comes back in to my cheeks, and my lips become full and perfectly pink.

I look... beautiful. I can't quite describe it. I still look like myself, but then I look completely different.

It's as if all of my flaws have been smoothed away, rubbed out with an eraser, to be replaced by new, lovely features.

And it changes my appearance more than I would have thought possible.

'Look what we could do to you, Miss Granger.' Lucius is standing next to me, his voice very close to my ear, brushing through my hair. He sounds... odd. 'With looks like this, who needs love? Grown men would fall at your feet. Wars have been fought over beauty such as this. Your looks could bring you power, riches beyond your wildest dreams.'

I look at him, and he's smiling slightly at me.

'Love just can't compare to what we could offer you,' he whispers.

I look back in the mirror, at my lovely, beautiful face, and I feel a tiny desire to giggle. I don't know why.

I move my gaze back up to Lucius, and the look in his eye isn't one I've seen in him before. It's not hatred, or scorn. But then his eyes aren't expressionless either, as they have been so often as he has tortured me.

And then I realise.

He, at this moment, thinks I'm attractive. His eyelids are heavy as he stares down into my face, and there's the smallest of small smiles playing about his lips.

It makes me feel weird.

The spell holding me to the wall is lifted. I almost fall forward onto the floor, but I manage to regain my footing.

Lucius moves in front of me, and meets my gaze.

'Do we have a deal, Miss Granger?' he asks, raising his eyebrows at me. 'Will you tell us what we want to know, in exchange for looks like this?'

I look back into the mirror.

I could almost laugh at the proposition. I'm not so shallow that I'll lead the Death-Eaters to one of my best friends in exchange for beauty!

If Lucius thinks I'll give them Harry in return for looks, then he's a bad judge of character.

I look at my lovely new face, and I mentally say goodbye to it before I answer him.

'No.'

Almost the instant that word leaves my mouth, my hair is frizzy once again, and my face is as plain as it ever was.

But at least I've got my hair again, and at least my teeth are normal.

I look at Lucius, who is staring at me intently.

'Fool,' he mutters, so that only I can hear him.

'I have had ENOUGH of this!' Bellatrix suddenly shouts. I jump, shocked out of Lucius' gaze. I'd almost forgotten she and Dolohov were here.

Bellatrix storms over to us, her face white with fury, and grabs me by the hair, pulling me across to the middle of the room. My scalp burns and I fall to my knees, wondering why the hell she's suddenly snapped from sadistic joy to wild rage.

She's a psychopath, Hermione. She's not right in the head.

She wrenches my head up by my hair, and speaks into my ear with a quiet hysteria.

'Why? Hmm? Why?' Her voice is very high pitched, squealing and squeaking like a mouse caught in a doorway. 'Why won't you talk? What do you think to gain from this? Why won't you do as you're told?'

I hear Lucius speaking from behind me.

'She's incapable of it, Bella-'

'No-one is incapable of it!' she interrupts him, her voice rising in hysteria. She grabs me harder by the hair. I feel my scalp rip and my pain prompts me to speak, although I know that I shouldn't.

'I am.' I know that I'm only making things worse for myself, but I can't stop the words from coming. 'I'm sorry, but I won't do as you tell me. I won't tell you where Harry is.'

'YOU WILL!' she screams suddenly in my ear. I feel as if my ear-drum is being shredded by her voice. 'I WON'T PUT UP WITH THIS...THIS... WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE! I'M SICK OF IT, DO YOU HEAR ME?'

I can hear her breathing erratically. I can feel it on my cheek.

She's insane! She's out of her mind!

She raises her wand...

'CRUCIO!'

Oh God, not again! I can't bear it! My skin is falling off, my bones are on FIRE!

She lifts the curse from me, still clinging on to my hair.

'Tell us! TELL US WHERE HE IS!'

Sweat pours down my face. I can taste the saltiness of it on my lips.

Tell her Hermione.

I WON'T!

I don't answer her. I won't give Harry away.

And so she stands up, and casts Crucio on me again.

And again.

And again.

It's never ending! It won't ever end! My body is burning and burning, and I can't stop it!

Over and over again, she Crucios me so many times that I lose count.

Darkness envelopes me, and I start to feel as if I'm floating. But I can still feel every inch of my body, and every tiny little bit of the pain being inflicted on it.

Oh God, why won't she stop? Why?

WHY?

'Crucio! CRUCIO!'

She's dancing around me. I can hear her feet pounding on the ground as she curses me.

I can't take it, I CAN'T!

I scream, and shake, and I think I'm going to die! And whenever it stops I refuse to talk, and she curses me again.

Pain rips through me, burning me, ripping me apart, pushing needles and knives and saws into my bones again and again.

I'm going to die here!

I don't care. Nothing is worse than this!

The curse lifts again. I wait in the darkness, expecting yet more pain.

But it doesn't come. I feel myself coming back into my body, and the darkness seeps away from me.

I open my eyes, without really seeing anything. I push myself up onto my elbows, my stomach turning and squelching and heaving. I feel a burning acid surging up from my gut, grazing my chest as it shoots up to my throat. I heave and heave, and acid and food and water all spill out of my mouth as I vomit all over the floor.

I shake over the pool of my own vomit, feeling the bitter, putrid smell of it envelope me and tasting the burning liquid in my mouth.

How could I throw up so much after eating so little recently?

None of them exclaim in disgust, like I expect them to. Lucius simply walks over, and points his wand at the pool of sick. It vanishes into thin air.

Perhaps he's used to this sort of thing by now.

I look up into Lucius' face, wishing more than anything to see some pity there.

But there is none. There is nothing. Just blank emptiness.

'Will you talk?' he asks me.

I want to. God help me, but I want to tell them.

I can't!

I stay silent, fighting against every instinct I have in order to keep my mouth shut.

Shut closed tight quiet quiet quiet!

Lucius is staring at me with eyes of stone.

Where's Bellatrix?

I turn my head slightly, and I see that she's literally being held back by Dolohov. He has her arms pinned behind her back, and she's looking at me with wild rage in her eyes.

I look back up at Lucius.

'Don't tell me that you need another dose of pain, Mudblood,' he says, his voice very quiet. 'We won't stop until we get what we want. You know this. What's the point in holding out anymore?'

Do it do it do it!

I won't do it!

Lucius waits for a few moments, before he points his wand at me again.

'Crucio!'

Aaaarrrrggghhh! I can't do this, why, why can't it stop! Just please, please!

'NO!' I scream, and the pain leaves me again.

I look up at Lucius, who is staring at me with no emotion whatsoever, and I know that this is it. I can't go on. I can't take anymore. I've reached my limit.

'Tell me, Miss Granger. Tell me where he is.'

Do it, Hermione.

'He's gone to the Burrow,' I whisper, my eyes filling with tears. 'Ron's house. He's staying with the Weasleys.'

My throat closes up with tears, and my nose blocks up, and my eyes burn and I can't say any more. Not that it matters. The damage is done.

Coward.

SHUT UP SHUT UP!

Dolohov goes to inspect the parchment.

'She's telling the truth.'

I wrap my arms around my head, wanting to block out everything, wanting it all to go away, to disappear.

Bellatrix gives a small, triumphant laugh as Lucius steps away from me.

I try to get up, but I collapse onto all fours almost as soon as I attempt to get to my feet.

I can't believe what I've done. Why couldn't I be strong? Why couldn't I just hold out?

They'd have killed you, Hermione.

I don't care! I should have let them do it!

Coward. Weak, feeble, pathetic...

I'm sweating so much! My head is aching so badly it's splitting, I know it.

I feel like don't even know where I am any more...

I want to go home, to my happy family to my own bed and for everything to go away.

I hear Lucius' voice, as if it is very far away.

'We should tell the Dark Lord about this now,' he says to the other two. 'He may still be able to catch Potter at the Weasley's home, if he acts swiftly.'

They don't know where the Burrow is. It'll be alright, they won't be able to find them...

I feel myself collapse onto my front and everything goes black.