Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir

Chapter One: Blood Loss Was A Bitch

"Fetch Draco."

Hermione impulsively shivered as the words hissed out of Bellatrix Lestrange's cruel mouth. It was all she could do to not break down sobbing as her captor gripped her arm tighter and the new reality of their situation set in. In a matter of hours, she went from hunting horcruxes with her best friends on the run from Death Eaters to being hunted down like animals and brought to the devil's lair of Malfoy Manor. In a last ditch effort to save their lives, Hermione had hastily cast a stinging hex at Harry to disguise his famous face and gave false names. Too little, too late it seemed, since Draco actually knew what they looked like and wouldn't hesitate to expose the lie.

Whatever she was thinking next flew out of her head as a smug Wormtail ('Why couldn't that man just DIE already', she thought) came into view dragging by wand point a rather unwilling tall pile of rags. Then, she saw an unmistakable head of white blonde hair, although dulled from grime and dirt and she felt her mouth drop in shock. That's not possible…that couldn't be Malfoy? Yet, standing in front of them now, it was undeniable that luck had gone horrible wrong for the once resplendent Malfoy heir. He was much thinner then she could remember seeing him, even though he had lost weight last year with the stress of trying to fix the vanishing cabinet that unleashed his fellow Death Eaters into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Now, he was practically gaunt, the deep smudges of sleepless nights under his surprisingly sharp grey eyes.

"Is it him? Is it Harry Potter?" the black-hearted witch he called Aunt asked, sneering at Draco. Hermione noted Bellatrix seemed disgusted she had to speak to Draco, let alone require his assistance. Draco met her sneer with an arrogant tilt of his head as he coolly eyed the three Gryffindors in front of him. "What's wrong with his face?" he gestured to Harry with shackled hands. Bellatrix looked questioningly to the Snatcher restraining Harry and the man shrugged his shoulders. The older witch smirked and pointed her wand to Hermione. "Looks like he ran into a little Stinging Hex….was it you, dearie? Give me her wand," she ordered the Snatcher that held onto Hermione's wand and then tapped her own dark oak wand to the tip. Hermione cringed when it revealed the last spell she used was indeed a stinging hex. Bellatrix cackled as she tossed the wand back to their captors.

"Got you! Clever for a Mudbl-WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!" she shrieked as she spotted Fenrir Greyback with a rather ornate sword strapped to his belt. The were-man looked confused for a moment before answering. "Found it in the girls' stuff. Reckon it's mine now," he patted the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor fondly. In a matter of seconds, the fierce witch was waving her wand around and the sword flew to her and all the Snatchers were expelled from the manor in a less then friendly manner. "GET THE GOBLIN!" she screamed at Wormtail, who shriveled pathetically under the woman's command, and scurried back to the dungeons without Draco.

"I think I'm going to have a little chat with this one first, girl to girl," she rasped to Hermione. The younger witch felt her heart stop. This was it, she was going to die in this house of horrors. She was dimly aware of Ron and Harry being taken away to the dungeons as they shouted for Hermione, screaming to take her place and be tortured instead. Oddly, Draco looked pensively at her but kept silent, his brows stitched together in a frown. Before she could think about it, the muggleborn felt the claws of the Lestrange witch dig into her arm and threw her roughly on the ground.

"Where did you get that sword?"

Hermione bit her lip, staying silent glaring daringly into the black madness of the older witch's eyes. A swift kick to her side knocked the breath from her lips. "Where. Did. You. Get. The. Sword," she was asked again, a kick accompanying each word. Still, she knew to keep silent. She would never tell this vile woman anything, so help her. Wormtail finally scurried back with another shackled prisoner, a goblin she recognized as Griphook from Gringotts. Bellatrix thrust the sword under his nose. "Is it real?" she asked, allowing him to hold it for further inspection. Despite the situation, she almost smirked when Griphook stared up at the much taller witch and sighed huffily. 'You didn't say the magic word….'

After a short time and much fiddling around with the item, the goblin declared it made from goblin steel and most likely the real Sword of Gryffindor. Hermione watched Bellatrix's face fly into a rage. "How did you get it?! That is supposed to be in my vault! HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY VAULT?!" she bellowed, pointing her wand at the petite witch at her feet before casting a silent Crucio. Any brief amusement the Gryffindor had fled and all that was left behind was mind numbing pain. She couldn't help the screams that left her throat as she thrashed wildly on the ground, her veins flowed with acid and her nerves set on fire. She didn't know how long this went on, time became irrelevant. Just as she was sure she could endure no more, that her body was shutting down, the pain stopped. Heaving large gasps of air, her limbs continued twitching as she opened her eyes to see dark eyes glaring back at her.

Then, she was asked once more how she got into the Lestrange vault. Tears streamed down her dirty face as she shook her head at the ceiling. What was this mad woman talking about? No one could steal from Gringotts, and certainly not after Quirell had attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Dumbledore's vault a few years prior. No one. Yet, here Bellatrix was positive that she, a mere teenager, could bypass goblin security and take a precious heirloom from her vault. Was she asking what else she took? Hermione stopped listening to the mad witch's ranting but was brought back by another Crucio.

Her screams echoed in the large hall once more.

After a time the curse was lifted once more but before she could recover, Bellatrix crouched down and had Hermione's left arm stretched out in an unrelenting grip. A sharp glint of a blade caught her eye. Panic crept into petite teen and she began to sob as she felt the first pierce of what was certainly a cursed blade mark her soft inner forearm. "What else did you take from my vault, you filthy Mudblood?" Bellatrix dug her knife deeper into her wound.

"I didn't take anything!" Hermione sobbed, her free arm gripping the priceless Persian rug beneath her tightly. Bellatrix continued her work, making sure each cut was as deep and painful as possible. "Tell me! I will kill you, you disgusting bitch, and then I will kill your friends! WHAT ELSE DID YOU TAKE!" she shrieked, losing her temper. Hermione pounded her free right arm to the ground over and over, the pain was blinding. "I DIDN'T TAKE ANYTHING!" she repeated with sobbing breaths, trying to make the pain stop; anything to make it stop!

Finally, it did stop. Suddenly, Bellatrix flew away from her and stood up to look in shock at a tiny elf swinging on her sister's prized chandelier. "What the hell…" Lucius murmured, looking puzzled before the elf snapped its fingers and the light fixture plunged to the ground below, forcing Bellatrix to move quickly away from Hermione. "What are you trying to do, you stupid elf?! You could have killed me!" she shouted indignantly to the smirking elf. Hermione almost smiled in relief to recognize Dobby. They would be safe now.

"Dobby didn't mean to kill! Never kill…just seriously maim or injure," the cheeky elf jumped down to the floor and snapped his fingers once more. Harry and Ron ran up the stairs from the dungeons to see Narcissa's and Bellatrix's wands fly into Dobby's awaiting hand. Hermione couldn't move a muscle to go to her boys but they were coming towards her. They would help her escape this evil place and they could regroup. Just a little closer….

However, her relief turned to disbelief as she saw Dobby suddenly grab the two young wizards mid-run and disappear before they could get to her, Bellatrix throwing the cursed knife in their direction. The knife disappeared with them, and Hermione closed her eyes in sorrow, knowing it had hit its target. She couldn't even be bothered to try and stop the trail of tears following the familiar path down her cheeks. She had failed to keep them safe and now all was lost. What good were all the years of studying and sacrifices to try and help her best friends when she couldn't even help them stay alive long enough to complete Harry's destiny?

She felt herself being hauled to her feet and she swayed. Her scarlet blood dripped down her arm, she felt the rivulets flow down her fingers to the puddle beneath it. A rather large puddle, in fact. The brunettes' knees buckled and her eyes rolled back into her head. Blood loss was a bitch.