Harry Potter and the Ring of Doom

Hermione wasn't fully awake, and she certainly didn't like the dream she was having. She was being reminded of why she did not like certain rides in amusement parks, especially the ones that threw you around and made sudden movements. She hated feeling nauseous.

She also hated feeling out of control, and she had that feeling now. She came fully awake then, but didn't move, because she remembered where she was, and remembered why she was nauseous, what with that lump above her left ear, and the ache in her stomach where that club had hit her. Her wrist and ankles were tightly tied; tightly enough that she knew that she was losing circulation in her hands and feet.

Her mind wandered back to the capture. Like an idiot, I went running off. I know better than that.

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Hermoine crashed through the woods, shouting "Harry! Harry! Where are you?" She did this until she ran headlong into a cadre of Orcs. Barking a word she'd never say in public, and rarely when alone, she whipped out her mithril wand and pointed it at the nearest Orc. "Expelliarmus!"

The shock of nothing happening would have floored her, had there been a floor nearby. Instead, she screamed "Expelliarmus" a few more times, followed by a round or two of "Incendio!" Finally, she dropped her wand to the ground and whipped out her sword, the one given her by Arwen. The Orcs balked for a moment, seeing that the blade was of Elven make, but then laughed and moved in. That was their mistake, because she began to move. Immediately three Orcs were on the ground, dead or dying, and she was wheeling to deal with more. As she did, one Orc burst into flames, and Draco ran up alongside and joined her.

"What the hell were you thinking, Hermione?" he asked after detonating another Orc.

"I wasn't; that's the problem," she admitted. "Now we are in serious trouble."

"Finding it faster with the sword?" he asked. "Reducio!" The Orc in question shrank to tiny size and was quickly flattened under his foot.

"Reducio?" Hermione asked at the sight, hacking another two Orcs, beheading one and removing the hands from another.

"Sorry, first thing I thought of." He pocketed his wand and pulled his own sword and began hacking through them as well, finding that the sword was doing far more damage.

The Orcs brought horns to their lips and blew, and more Orcs began to arrive, as did Boromir, sword in one hand and Horn of Gondor in the other. He put the Horn to his lips and blew a trumpeting blast that resounded through the forest and off the hills, which dismayed the Orcs, who backed away for a time in expectation of further troops.

When none came, they were heartened and pressed the attack. Hermione and Draco pressed their attacks as well, but were soon overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

#####

The last I saw Boromir, Hermione thought, he had those god-awful arrows sticking out of him. The Orcs must have noticed that she was awake finally, because they stopped and roughly dropped her to the ground. "Gently, you arse-wipes! They're supposed to go to him unspoiled! He'll make you into something too ugly for even your mothers to love if you harm them."

"Well, they're awake, and they're bloody heavy. Make 'em run. I'm tired of carrying her if I'm not gonna be allowed to have some fun with her afterwards!" She shivered at the thought of what he meant.

"You're right, even if it proves you are a worthless lazy excuse for an orc," one laughed. "We'll take a short break here and get this cargo on its feet for the rest of the run. We've got a long ways to go."

One of them came over wielding a very large, very ugly knife and held it near her face. "You'll run, little bird, or orders or no, you'll be gutted and food." The knife came down to her feet and he sliced through the ropes there. He began to run his hands along her legs, going to areas only Harry had touched so far. That stopped quickly when she saw another Orc come up behind him and hit him with a large heavy object. If I thought they cooked their food, I'd say it was a frying pan, from the sound of it. Her tormentor fell sideways off her.

"Unspoiled," came the snarl from her 'saviour'. He knelt down beside her and gripped her hair, yanking it back and causing her to yell. As she did, he poured something fiery down her throat that made her gag and brought to full force her nausea. She quickly returned the fluid, coating the tormentor with her bile, and causing the other Orcs to laugh.

"Can't hold her medicine! Don't know what's good for her!" one of them shouted with a barking laugh. Surprisingly, she felt better than before, even after the taste of the vile liquid. She watched them pour some down Draco's throat, and he spluttered, but kept it down.

"You okay?" she asked him quietly when she was sure he was awake.

"Yeah. I just can't focus on anything, after that club to the head. Can't think too straight." He gagged and proceeded to return the liquid they'd poured down his throat, and also possibly everything he'd eaten since his third birthday. Hermione was more than a little worried to see what she thought was blood in the bile he vomited up. "Plus there's that occasional inconvenience," he finished weakly. "Oh look; there's my liver," he tried to laugh.

"Concussion," she said. "Probably." I hope the wizarding recovery times work here as well. I'm betting we'll need him before too long.

The Orcs settled down for a while, and they were warned to keep silent.

#####

She never could remember much of the next three days as they ran, thankfully. It was filled with running for long periods, with painfully short rest periods in between. There were times when they were picked up and carried, because they simply could no longer run, and even threatening to drag them was not having an effect on getting them moving.

Draco's vomitting seemed to have stopped by the beginning of the second day, and his eyes seemed clearer. He still was not a happy camper, but at least he looked more likely to survive.

A particularly vile looking Orc named Ugluk was apparently the nominal leader of this band, and he was particularly unhappy that Hermione and Draco were to be delivered to someone unhurt as possible, after the drubbing that Boromir, Draco, and Hermione had given them. She realized that she had neither wand nor the sword that Arwen had given her, which put a serious crimp in any attempt at escape or defense.

Hermione remembered certain things clearly, such as after they had loosened the knots around their hands, since the original knots would have caused gangrene if they'd been that way much longer. A short while later, when they were passing a particularly pristine area, she undid her cloak clasp, and then 'stumbled', falling to the ground and rolling slightly. She made sure to drop the clasp as soon as she was face down, so her roll took her away from it. The Orcs had roughly picked her up and thrown her over a shoulder for a time before setting her back to running.

During the run, she had pieced together enough to know where they were going Isengard, which meant Orthanc, the tower that Saruman used. What does that wizard want with us? And why does he have Orcs in his employ? And do I really want answers to either of those questions? Same as whether the hungry looks at me are because I'm female, or meat on the hoof, so to speak. Don't like either idea.

She'd heard some possibly good news as they rested at one point, though, while eating some stale bread they'd given her (she refused to eat the strip of unknown meat). Apparently an Orc named Snaga had been seen by the 'horse lords', as the Orcs called them, which meant that the Rohirrim were chasing them. I understand they don't exactly give up when the prey is servants of the Dark Lord...

#####

Draco had undergone the same amount of time trying to recover from his concussion by sheer force of will, although he knew it didn't work that way. He was getting more and more able to focus as time went by, and he'd stopped puking his guts out finally. He was hoping for enough concentration to surprise them in a while. They might have killed Boromir by firing those saplings disguised as arrows at him, and taken their swords and wands, but that hadn't searched him properly, and they would end up paying for that mistake.

What was infuriating him was the way they were pawing and leering at Hermione. He was doing a slow burn at that, and he was going to ensure that a number of them did a fast burn. Why did I have to fall for her? Why did I have to become friends with Harry is worse. If we were still enemies, I wouldn't have a problem pursuing her. Blech. More soul searching for those without. I hate that.

He scowled, which made the Orcs happy. They'd been doing everything they could within their directions to harass, annoy, and otherwise discommode the two of them. He remembered how angry they were when they'd slathered that ... stuff ... on the gash on his forehead. It had hurt so much that he felt like passing out, but he was damned if he was going to give them the satisfaction, although the undignified rebellion of his stomach shortly after had certainly given them something to laugh about.

They had been run ragged for some time. If his memory was correct, they were working on their third day of running or being carried. Hermione was looking like she was ... elsewhere. She didn't like the scenery wherever it was any better than the scenery around here. Can't exactly complain, or argue with her on it. I'd be elsewhere in my thoughts, if I could.

#####

It was night sfter their third day of running. The Orcs were beginning to scatter as it became more obvious that the Rohirrim were hot on their trail. The only reason they had stopped at all was because even the Orcs were falling on their feet from exhaustion.

The camp, such as it was, was total chaos. Hermione's worst tormentor, the one who was constantly fondling her to get her to squirm and squeal, was a particularly ugly specimin named Grishnakh. He sat down between the two of them and put his hand, as if by accident, on her thigh, just where it met her body. "Pity they needs you unspoiled," he leered again. "Maybe when He's done with you, I'll be able to enjoy myself." He spoke in a voice that mocked every decent emotion one can feel as he continued. "It's a hard life being a soldier. Never stay in one place for very long, and always taking orders from know-nothing higher ups. Never get to have any fun." With that, he squeezed her thigh hard enough to elicit a squeal of pain from her. "Ah, that's my girl. I can tell you want me, girlie, or else you wouldn't do all the things that drive me crazy." He looked around, and a glint entered his eyes. He stood up, and then grabbed Hermione and ran off.

Draco watched the direction they went, and murmured "Visium Nocturnus," as he watched them go. His sight came clearer and he could see exactly where Grishnakhh had carried her. He reached down to his boot, nominally to scratch an itch, and pulled his Hogwarts wand out of the Timberland boots he wore. He had no idea where his and Hermione's mithril ones were anymore. He also looked around the camp and saw that no one was looking his way. To be sure, he tossed a Ventriloquism Charm and made some small noises off in the opposite direction. The Orcs watched carefully in that direction, while he carefully slipped away from them in the direction that Grishnakh had gone.

When he got nearer to them, his vision started to tunnel as he saw the scene before him. It was only a supreme act of will that kept him from berserking as he saw Hermione's clothes scattered around shredded jeans over there; ripped blouse over in another direction, and her panties were mere shreds. Hermione was struggling fiercely but ineffectively against Grishnakh's far greater strength. He was not yet atop her, but he was obviously intending to fix that little problem.

Uncaring of the other Orcs in the area, he growled "Avada Kedavra!", and a green beam lanced from his Hogwarts wand, striking Grishnakh fully in the back. Grishnakh stiffened and attempted to rise, but the curse had struck him fully, and all he was successful in doing was preventing his dead body from landing fully on top of Hermione. Draco stalked over to the body and rolled it over, pulled the cruel sword that Grishnakhh seemed to enjoy carry, and began to drive it repeatedly into Grashnakh's body as if he were a Muggle driving postholes. He only stopped when he felt someone touch his arm and heard Hermione say quietly. "You can stop, Draco. He'll never do it again." Draco drove the sword into the body one last time and turned, but didn't see the quick flash of shock on Hermione's face as she saw that he had driven the sword nearly two thirds of the length of its blade into the ground. His vision returned to normal and he looked at Hermione, and became angry again, this time with himself. This is the worst time to get aroused, Draco! You deserve to end up like your father, you slime! He drove the look from his face, and hoped that she assumed that it was anger at what had been done to her, and not his self-loathing.

She lurched into his arms and began to cry. His arms came around her, but he realized that he'd never been in this position before, and didn't exactly know where his hands should go. It was then that he heard shouts from the camp, and realized that they probably knew he was gone. As he saw it getting lighter, he dropped the Visium Nocturnus, grabbed her clothes, and started to head toward the forest. He suddenly realized that she wasn't moving, so he ran back and swooped her into his arms, out in front of himself, and began to run. They were in the forest in moments.

He didn't stop until they were a distance in, and then he set her down carefully, near a rock, where she immediately sat down. He set about casting Reparo on her clothing. "I'm sorry, Hermione; I couldn't find your brassiere." She quickly set about getting dressed, and then threw herself into Draco's arms again.

"Thank you, Draco, for stopping him. The thought of him..." She shuddered again and began to sob into his shoulder. He simply held her and let her cry herself out.

"It's all right Hermione. I'm here for you. I'll protect you with my life." He realized two things as he said that, one that delighted him, and one that infuriated him. He had a purpose for his life now.

He was also desperately in love with Hermione.