Sweet Sacrifice

Chapter 8 My Sacrifice to Her

Tom's PoV

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It has become an addiction for me. The fact that it is becoming so easy to pick out the people Hermione is close to causes the game to slowly lose its novelty. Recently, I ordered the rapes and murders of two more of Hermione's friends - Ronald's sister, Ginny, and Luna Lovegood - hoping that with each murder, she will change her mind. But until she does, I will not rest until I kill all the people close to her and she finally relents and begins telling me more of her stories. These seem like harsh measures to take, but I always get what I want in the end, and I intend to get it when I want. But Hermione is being extremely bullheaded and stubborn; it may take some more time for me to break her down.

I wait a few days before testing her again. This time, I may have found my ace-in-the-hole with the murder of her dearly loved sister Desdemona - in which I took great delight. As I head up to her locked room to tell her the news, I knock on the door to see if she is awake. The bed creaks as I open the door; she must be awake. Hermione does not bother looking at me; instead, she keeps her back facing me as she gets up from the bed.

"You two were close, weren't you?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" Her voice sounds harsh and cold, unlike the soft, gentle one I remember so well from she had when she first arrived here.

"Desdemona. She's was sister, wasn't she?" Hermione turns to face me. I raise an eyebrow in an attempt to feign innocence.

"What have you done to her?"

Remaining quiet, I see the wheels turning in her head as she comes to understand why I am here. Her face, if possible, turns shades whiter within a matter of seconds as a dawn of comprehension overcomes her.

"She found herself on the unfortunate end of the Avada Kedavra curse. Pity too, she was so much like you, Hermione, especially when she was under the Imperius. She was so feisty, but she was unable to throw it off all the while -"

"While what?" she cuts me off. "You raped her, didn't you? Answer me!" she screams.

I give a small jerk of my head, suggesting that she was - indeed - correct. I can hear her lungs constricting as she struggles to breathe. The news is simply too much for her to bear. Within seconds her eyes are brimming with tears. Her anger with me has already been long forgotten, having been replaced by grief. She looks up at me, no traces of strength left in her as she falls to the bed, crying. It seems I have dealt the final blow to her emotions.

"She was my sacrifice to you, Hermione," I say with a laugh. "Do you want to know how she died? She died after I was finished with her. And just for clarification purposes, I removed the Imperius from her before I killed her, telling her how you would never be returning to her again. She begged me to leave her be, that I had already hurt her enough, and that she would never tell anyone. But I killed her as she mumbled your name with her last breath."

"Stop! Stop it, now!" Hermione begs, her face pushing into her hands. "Please, what more do you want from me? What can I do to make you stop? To make all of this stop?" Her voice cracks from the emotions as tears continually pour from her eyes.

"Simple," I say, lifting her wet face with the palm of my hand. "Say you will always be here to tell me stories. Tell me you will never leave, not even to see your remaining family or friends again. It will all stop if you just say you'll never leave."

More tears roll down her cheek as she thinks it over. But what other choice does she have? It is either a lifetime of servitude to me or death. I will have it no other way, as either choice she makes is a no lose situation for me. Clearing the congestion from her throat, she closes her eyes, as though what she is about to say is something excruciatingly difficult. "I'll stay."

"Now, was that so difficult for you, Hermione dear?"

~*~

I leave her room a few hours later, adjusting my pants in the process, and feeling as though I am stronger than ever before. I have broken her and bended her toward my will, and nothing can change that now. Even she knows this. Tonight, I will allow her back into my room where she can continue to tell me more of her adventurous tales for as long as I desire to hear them. Until I grow tired of her, I will not kill her. She will remain under my surveillance for the rest of her life.

As I travel down the darkened hallway away from her room, I wonder just how much it kills her to know that she will never leave my presence. She will eventually learn to understand that there will be no way I will ever give her up.

~*~

The waiting is murder as I sit alone in my bedroom, waiting for her to come to my door. She will finish telling me another of her tales tonight or face the consequences. Already she is a few minutes late, but I do not feel the need to worry. Hermione is smart enough to know not to try anything as foolish as trying to escape from me. The many ways I can track my enemies down frighten most people. And what I do to people who disobey me is something no one wishes to inflict upon him or herself.

My ears pick up the sounds of shuffling feet by the door; perhaps she has finally decided to grace me with her presence. I order her to enter, and she reluctantly does so. As though those past weeks never happened, she positions herself at the end of my bed, clearing her throat before heading into another one of her stories. The only reminder of her lockup is how she continually looks upon the floor; she used to look me directly in the face, as though trying to challenge me. I casually notice her hands twitch, as her eyes bore into the carpet. I know she is dying to forget everything; but under these circumstances, she is finding it almost impossible to do so now.

Hermione turns her head to face me; her eyes look tired and red, and there is the sense of defeat in her voice.

"I did not tell you to stop speaking," I say with a frown.

Without saying a word, her eyes flicker over my wand lying on the night table, eyeing it for a few moments before returning to her story.