Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2008-08-21 00:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008, draco malfoy, draco/hermione/lucius, hermione granger, lucius malfoy |
[FIC] Destroyer: Lucius/Hermione/Draco :: gift for twilightsorcery
Title: Destroyer
Author:
Recipient: twilightsorcery
Pairing: Lucius/Hermione/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3510
Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, psychological rape, voyeurism
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Hermione is captured by the Malfoys and held for torture and detainment.
Author's Notes: I'd like to thank my lovely betas, L and A for their undying patience in helping me through the rough spots! This was perhaps the most difficult prompt I've gotten! I hope I managed to make it to your specifications, though I may have incited new squicks in people. It was a welcome challenge, and very much took on a life of its own!
He stared at the spelled form, bushy brown hair matted with even darker mud. She was silent now, and very still. He didn't fool himself though. The mind behind the closed chocolate eyes never stopped. Even Stunned, even through Petrificus Totalus, she'd think and plan. It was that mind he needed now. Rather, it was what the man next to him needed.
Turning slightly, he looked up at the other man, though the height difference was only an inch or so. In him, he saw what he could become twenty years from where they stood.
Draco turned back, icy blue-gray eyes trying to see if she'd woken, not that she could give any indication. It was better than seeing his future. It had always been thus, his father paving the way and Draco having no choice but to follow. Perhaps not entirely without choice, though his mind refused to entertain options that would result in further crucios. Self preservation was paramount, after all.
"I told you, Draco, they always fall. It is an inherent flaw in their creation, these abominations of magic."
Draco nodded mutely to the smooth tenor's commentary. Inside, hidden far beneath his Aunt Bellatrix's Occlumency lessons, he disagreed. This hadn't been a case of how clever his father was. He knew the girl inside the room beyond the mirror. He knew very well she wouldn't have fallen for his father's trap; this was willful. Though to argue that some Mudblood would have outmaneuvered Lucius Malfoy was not an action Draco saw as conducive to self-preservation.
He turned to his father, then, attention solely on the man next to him. "Break her? Aren't there better uses for her?"
"Break her, Draco, or I'll break you. Do not go soft on me with this. Your history is already questionable."
"My loyalty to you has never been in question, Father." His voice was solid.
Lucius smirked, perhaps a slight chuckle escaped. "Then you will break her."
Again, silent betrayal of his own heart was as simple as a nod.
Lucius laughed then, "Perhaps I have been neglectful in my tutoring. She is a Mudblood, but she is still a girl, and a clever one. My thoughts are not to use the Cruciatus until her mind is gone." He clapped his hand on Draco's shoulder and passed him, walking into the room.
Draco followed him and watched, unsure what to think as his father waved his wand and Granger's clothes fell away, as if being sliced by knives. Screams began then, and Draco restrained himself from blocking his ears from the offensive sound. Instead, he focused on her body being held still, her legs open against her obviously struggling muscles.
Lucius frowned, and waved his wand again, silencing her screams. The effect was instantaneous, she began to struggle harder, and Draco was certain there would have been marks had she been held by Muggle means.
"Now, Miss Granger, I assure you, no harm shall come to you this evening. Well, no permanent damage, certainly," he crooned, stroking her hair softly. His alabaster fingertips trailed across her tanned skin, leaving no evidence behind.
Draco stood transfixed, a silent distant participant in the drama unfolding before him. He'd never seen his father treat anyone in such a fashion. He'd never wanted to. Tender caresses and soft words belied the fact that at least one of the involved parties viewed it as horrific violence.
"Such a clever little witch aren't you?" Lucius soothed, caressing the insides of her thighs, and Draco was sure he was gaining more enjoyment out of how taut the muscles obviously were than he would have with a willing partner. "And yet, you are here, with me now, well within the bowels of the earth, and your food, your very well-being is at my command."
She was shaking her head violently, mouth forming silent protests as Draco watched her back arch off the table. He knew, given the position, that his father had violated her then, and he forced his stomach into submission.
Lucius turned to him, wiping his finger down the length of Hemione's leg. "Do you see now? I expect results."
Draco nodded mutely as his father stepped past him, leaving him alone with the bound girl. For long moments, he stared at her, panting and shining with sweat. Finally, he moved towards her, tucking her unruly hair behind an ear gently as he shook his head. Something akin to hope flickered in her eyes, and Draco actively forced his gaze to reveal nothing.
"Granger, what did you get yourself into? What are you up to?" Soft words spoken in a resigned voice. She glared up, brown eyes boring through his silver. Another sigh, another shake of his head and he bent down to whisper. "Now play nice, Granger, and I can assure this will be easier on you." No threat, just simple statement of fact.
Betrayal replaced hope. Draco nodded, pulling back a bit. It's best you hate me, Granger. That will make this easier.
Hatred was evident there, but not despair. Her eyes were as hard as his own, needless confirmation of his previous estimation. She may hate him, but she wasn't afraid. Pursing his lips, he gripped a breast roughly, watching her thrash in response.
"You're supposed to be afraid, Granger. You'll never see the outside of this room if you don't play nice."
With seeming remorse, he caressed the bruised breast, then brought out his wand. Ignoring her muted protests, he healed her before the red turned to purple-green. He trailed his dormant wand over her stomach, between her breasts, over her hip.
"I'll come back tonight, when you've had time to think over your options."
It was late at night when he returned. Standing outside the room, staring in, he saw her occasionally struggle, the tell-tale signs of a frantic mind in the spastic twitches of muscle against bonds. So she wasn't as confident as she portrayed. If she was showing a weakness already, then it was possible his task had more than a remote chance of success. He entered quietly, though the door's sound caused her to still.
He watched the calm return, the attitude of confidence take over, with dark amusement. As he walked up the length of the table, he trailed his fingers over her flesh, wondering at how soft it was. Mudbloods shouldn't have soft skin, they were for hard labor. He heard his father through his own veins and frowned inwardly. As he reached her shoulder, he let his fingers pause between her breasts.
"Good evening, Granger. Are we ready to cooperate?"
She nodded, though he wasn't convinced. It would be far too easy to have her broken now, and he wouldn't have trusted it if she was. This was Granger, not some mealy-mouthed fool. However, he took off the silencing charm.
"You're just as disgusting as your father," she spat.
He shrugged slightly, "Be that as it may, I'm still the one in charge here, and you would do well to remember that."
She laughed at him then, "Your father's in charge, and we both know it, so you can stuff your high and mighty attitude."
It took more self-control than Draco realized he had to keep from squeezing the breath from her lungs forever. Of course his father was in charge in the end. In fact, he knew well that the man had followed him down to this dungeon and was likely watching.
Waiting for me to fail yet again.
Instead, he leaned close, "And you and I both know that you knew it was a trap. Which means you're here voluntarily, so now who's the fool?"
He was rewarded by a sharp inhale and surprise glinting through her face before she schooled herself. With a smirk, he nodded.
Draco tensed only slightly as he felt the door open again. He refused to turn around, however, refused resolutely to admit he wasn't in control. The facade was all important.
Hermione, on the other hand, was all too willing to antagonize it seemed. "Your lousy excuse for a son is an idiot. Not that I expected any better coming from you."
Draco and Lucius inhaled in stereo. Though likely for decidedly different reasons. Lucius was the first to recover.
"Yes, well, he does have a fair amount to learn. I had hoped you would be practice for him."
Draco kept the flush down to a pale pink listening to the battle of wills. Though the desire to blow up the room and all its occupants increased with each breath. Succumbing to an overwhelming need to make someone else uncomfortable, he flicked a nipple lightly. The intake of air his only reward.
"I do not need practice, Father."
His eyes demanded her acquiescence in this, making promises of far worse treatment if she continued to deny his superiority and authority. His finger circled her nipple drawing gasping breaths.
"I have things well in hand."
Hermione writhed under the ministration, biting her lip to perhaps keep from admitting to everyone in the room she was enjoying his touch. Her eyes burned into his, promising their own brand of retribution. Draco hadn't expected any less.
"I expect perfection, Draco," his father drawled, and Draco found it difficult to not growl at the continued dressing-down in front of the very person he was supposed to be controlling.
"You'll have it."
"We shall see about that," Lucius retorted dryly, stepping behind Draco and caressing Hermione's lower leg.
Hermione tensed, closing her eyes tightly. Her body was beginning to move more, struggling hard.
"Don't like his touch?" Draco crooned, almost mocking.
"I hate both of you!" she screamed.
Draco shook his head, leaning down and placing his hand gently over her throat, hinting at a squeeze. "You're going to get one of us, so tell me now who you would prefer, and if you cooperate, I can give you that." The velvet of his voice tickled at her ear.
"That may be, Miss Granger, but surely," Lucius was interrupted by her high-pitched gasp as he reached the curls between her legs. "You understand that hating us will not spare you from this fate."
"Draco! I'll...I'll talk to Draco!"
Lucius laughed, "Miss Granger, you seem to think I want to hear what you have to say."
She froze, eyes and mouth open wide. Even Draco was startled. When one had a captive with as intelligent as Granger was, it wasn't wise to just toss her mind away. A glance at his father, however, proved that was precisely what was wanted despite the conversation they'd had earlier. The older chiseled face was set, eyes alight with dark shadows. He pressed forward, and Hermione began thrashing in response.
"No! Stop! Please!"
"Apologize for your rudeness."
She stared only a moment longer. "I'm sorry!"
Lucius withdrew his finger, rubbing it against her clitoris briefly, smiling at them. "Draco, a few words, now."
Draco glanced at Granger once more, then followed his father to the other room, steeling himself against the onslaught to come.
"You will not fail me again, Draco."
"Then let me work."
"She is far stronger than those foolish Muggles you practiced on. I want results quickly."
Draco clenched his fists, "I know what I'm doing, Father. I can do this."
Lucius shook his head. "If you fail in this, you will share her fate."
Draco growled and returned to the room where Granger was lying bound. He didn't want to know what fate his father had in mind should he fail. He didn't even know what he meant to happen to Granger once broken. That particular detail however, he was quite certain he didn't want to know.
The other occupant of the room ignored him while he brooded. He needed to break her quickly. It would be the most merciful path. If he could break her mind, she wouldn't know any better, and his own life would be spared.
Moving to her silently, he began to caress her gently, imagining in his mind she was nothing more than a practice doll, or perhaps a pureblood virgin.
She remained quiet, staring at him, her wishes of his death were fully apparent. He shook his head, allowing his hand to move lower, moving to her hip, then towards the center. Despite her attempts to escape his hand, he began to play against the folds of her labia.
"Sod off, Malfoy."
He pinched her until she gasped loudly. "Granger, you chose me. I'm here. You said you'd behave." He taunted her calmly.
"Stop! Please!" He nodded quietly, relaxing his grip and caressing her clitoris as his father had done earlier.
"Say thank you."
"You really think you're something, don't you?"
"Yes, I really think I'm in charge of your life currently, so be polite and show gratitude. Or I might be forced to teach you more lessons like that."
"Thank you," she growled.
"Much better. You're welcome." His hand began to caress her more, skirting the edge of her curls, playing where her hip and thigh met.
"Are you ready to tell me why you came here?"
Her silent eyes dared him to give in, give up. He would do neither. He began to rub her clit in smooth circles. Her eyes flickered, her lip quivered, then she bit it, hardening her glare.
"I ask again, why did you come here?"
She shook her head. He nodded, "So be it. Water will be provided, and a little food. We'll continue this conversation later." He moved his hand, smirking slightly at the frustrated whimper that escaped her lips before she caught herself.
He repeated the ritual every night. He'd come in, begin to tease and caress her, asking her questions she wouldn't answer, then leave with a promise of a bit of water and some food.
"Wait...please," she whimpered as he was at the door frame. He paused, not turning to face her, but not continuing out the door yet either.
"Yes?" he prompted at the continued silence.
"You aren't going to break me."
Defiance was certainly not what her pleading tone had implied. Confusion reigned only the briefest of moments before irritation took control. Draco turned then and strode to stand at her head. "No?"
"No."
He felt his temper rise, his cheeks flush. Had he not gotten anywhere? Did she not understand he was trying to be humane about things? With a sinking stomach, he realized she did know it, and she understood something he didn't want her to. She saw his weakness. He wasn't his father.
"You will break, Granger."
"Not by you."
He closed his eyes, exasperated. "Why not?" he asked, humouring both his own morbid curiosity and her strength of will.
"Because you're not like him. Draco, let me go. Please? Help me. I can protect you."
He stared at her openly for a moment, processing the offer. He chuckled dryly. "You're going to protect me? Great Circe, woman, you haven't seen the outside of this room in days. You only eat because I ensure it. If it were up to my father, you wouldn't even eat what you do."
He wasn't threatening her. His father had demanded no food at all. That he had betrayed his father in the admission wasn't quite clear to him.
What he did realize, half a second after he spoke, was how close she must be to breaking. The denial, the bargaining, the pleading. She was going to break, and what was more, she knew it. The knowledge steeled his resolve to continue this contradiction.
Wordlessly, he began to trail his fingers again, down across her hip, between her thighs. He twirled it between her folds, watching her gasp with active indifference. His lack of expression seemed to anger her and she sputtered expletives and threats at him as his finger became moist with her natural lubrication.
He felt her writhe in her bonds, eyes wild as she tried to escape him. The headiness of his control over her was intoxicating. Draco could picture her will fading, almost tangibly as her muscles quaked with effort. His own will strengthened, the burning desire to save his own skin far stronger than any compassion he bore for his once classmate.
She was whimpering now, incoherent noises as her head thrashed. Occasionally, the word no was intelligible, as well as stop and bastard. But, she was making noises. This was far more of a reaction than he'd gotten previously. He'd never managed to get her to this point before.
"Stop, please! Draco! Malfoy!" her breath was ragged and soft.
He paused at her use of his first name. She'd called him by his first name before, not often, but this wasn't the first time. He was any number of derogatory epitaphs, but rarely Draco. No, it wasn't that she used his first name. It had been the way she said it, all filled with passion and need. He bit the inside of his cheek. He could not afford to lose composure, no matter how ragged her breath.
Hermione gasped, looking down, eyes bright with unshed tears. Draco felt a strange appreciation for the fact that despite how beyond her senses she was, she hadn't lost control over her tears.
"Please, let me go. Just let me go. I won't tell.."
He shook his head, sighing, "I can't."
Something hardened in her eyes as Draco began to move his fingers again. She stared at him, forgiveness far from this room. Draco hated himself. Freeing her was out of the question, beyond possibility.
"You're the fool," she spat with far more coherency than she should have at this point. Her words that he would never break her rang through his ears His father's threats sang in his heart. The combination made his blood cold and his stomach turn.
"I tire of your arguments and your accusations." He withdrew his hand, trailing it up and down her thigh. He needed to think, to distance himself from the self-loathing he felt as surely as the silk of her skin, and was that a scar? There, under her left knee?
He shook his head again, pretending it was directed at her.
"It's true. You are foolish and weak and--"
Whatever she was going to say was lost as the room was shaken by a huge tremor. Draco's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Nothing could have shaken the room. From his understanding the only thing that could have done that was the manor wards.
The wards. The manor had been breached. He glanced back at her, registering her smug expression as time seemed to slow. She knew. How she'd known what time it was, when it was, why things happened, he didn't understand. He was sure though that she'd delayed him tonight with the intention of his being caught in here. She wanted him to be caught in the act.
He flicked his wand, releasing her bonds as he charged for the door. Two steps towards the door, he froze as it slammed open.
Wand in hand, obviously in flight, he knew better than to hope the vixen behind him would defend his precarious position.
"Potter."
"Malfoy." The other stood there, cheeks flushed and eyes flashing, his wand tip twitching with the barest movement.
Evaluating the situation took only a breath and Draco lowered his own wand. He was silent as it was taken from him. What was he to say? His entire defense lay with the woman who stood in the room, attempting to cover herself. He risked a glance in her direction and was rewarded with a glare that spoke far more than she wanted it to.
She wouldn't help him. She could not defend him because he had not released her. A simple choice that was wrapped up in far more complicated reasons. He'd been trapped by the inability to stand against his father. Now she was trapped by the task they'd set of her.
She'd been bait. She had come to the trap, knowing full well what might happen, well, not the details, but she'd known they wouldn't release her. They had, of course, been predictable. Then he'd had his chance. She had been careful to watch how the days passed. Then, when she had him in the room, she'd kept him there.
The last thing he saw before Potter forced his face away from Granger was the fact she'd never wanted to be anyone's whore. And now, not only had she been his and his father's. She'd been Potter's. Potter had whored her out; his expression showing that he'd fully expected what he found in the room.
Draco watched the world go black, staring into the green eyes that promised no quarter, even for someone just as trapped as the girl he had just as good as raped.