Baby Don't Reply
Chapter One: the Matter of Being Bought
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
For Hermione Granger it was not a matter of being bought. No, she did not even receive the opportunity to be bought. She was simply taken. No bidding or anything of the sort; for her there was only one end.
Perhaps if she had been bid upon she could have been saved. Perhaps Harry would have changed the plan, decided it was all for the best otherwise and bought her, saved her from the hell she had been living in for the past weeks. Perhaps.
Hermione stretched her legs out as far as the small iron cage would allow and considered her predicament. She was trapped like an animal in this dungeon. And it sounded like a hollow full of wild animals. Women screamed and sobbing, women being hit for their loudness. She alone remained silent. For she alone had witnessed the most heartbreaking blow life had ever presented her with.
Her parents had died all too soon, murdered in Australia silently and without fuss. Luna had disappeared within the next week, Neville following soon after. People were dropping like flies without a sound. Then came the impossible ultimatum. Surrender Potter or everyone dies…
Hermione recalled how they hugged and held onto one another and promised they would never turn their backs on each other. How they cried and prayed and kissed, hoping for the impossible win; a group of innocent children was all they were.
Then broke out the battle, Piccadilly Circus turned into a combat zone, muggles tried to flee but most were murdered. Accidently for stepping into a line of fire, or by deatheaters who had nothing better to do. That was how life had been for the past few months, they were all fighting on the battle field, and then Ron and Harry had left to do something…some mission…
She remembered that one moment where everything changed…Hermione and Ginny were running as fast as Ginny's full stomach would allow. They needed to get out and get out then. The walls were crumbling and their safe hold was no longer secure. Hermione could only remember running past others and pushing her way through a small crowded hall. She cared for no other life than Ginny's. She came to the room thrusting Ginny through the door and pushing her towards the floo. Screaming at her to go anywhere and run while she tried to hold off the attacking deatheaters. Hermione was frightened, terrified to be so alone. Ron and Harry had been gone for months on a mission and probably had no idea that she and Ginny were in danger yet.
Hermione had locked the door with spells as best she could while she attempted to calm Ginny down. Finally Hermione grabbed a handful of floo and flooed them to the only place she could consider even remotely safe; her parent's country home. She could only pray that the floo was still connected after two summers. Just as they disappeared in a burst of green flame the door was blasted open.
There wasn't even a moment to spare. They scrambled out of the fireplace and ran right out the front door; their feet slipping on the hardwood floors. The deatheaters were on their tail within minutes. She and Ginny ran across the wide open field pushing through tall grass and flowers as the sun slowly set. Their bodies were hitting the limit only to reach that soft little spot of trees not far off. Hermione thought if they could reach that bit of trees they would have just enough time to hide and contact help. Perhaps make it out safe.
Ginny stumbled bringing Hermione down with her. At that moment Hermione could recall a sensation that felt like she had swallowed her heart. "COME ON!" Hermione screamed her voice was raw with fear. She had tried to pull Ginny up, but it seemed Ginny had given up. "No, Gin, please come on" Hermione whined tugging on her arm. Ginny struggled to stand but she barely did. A curse flew past Hermione's ear blowing her hair back. She could see the deatheaters running towards them.
"Almost there Gin" Hermione sobbed grabbing Ginny's hand tightly and running towards the shelter of trees. Hermione fumbled with her wand sending haphazard spells behind her as they continued to run. She managed to get a few down.
She felt a searing pain hit her in the back, she continued for only a few more steps before she fell down face first. "Run Gin" Hermione groaned trying to stand. Ginny had nodded and continued to run, but the attacks stopped. It seemed that the deatheaters had received what they wanted. Ginny was not what they cared for at all. Hermione saw her reach the cover of the trees before she was roughly turned over. She glared defiantly at the masked face, there were not words exchanged but none were necessary. She groaned softly as another wave of pain hit her from behind. Whatever curse they had hit her with was brilliant.
"Where is Potter?" the mask asked her.
Hermione laughed deliriously "Fuck me" she had sneered. Not the smartest move now that she thought back upon it.
"Crucio" the mask said lazily. Hermione could not even feel the curse; actually she was not sure which curse she was feeling. But all she knew was the she was slowly going numb. She felt as though she was being pushed through a paper-shredder. But the pain was dying away; her endorphins were kicking in to save her. "Bring the whore" the mask said again.
Hermione's breath hitched, how could they have? Ginny was thrown to the man above her. "Gin" Hermione whispered sadly. No, she had seen her get to the trees. How could they…
"I'm sorry Hermione" Ginny whispered sadly "I tried but I couldn't make it".
"Now, where is Potter?" the man sighed pressing his wand to Ginny's swollen belly. Hermione bit her lip, they had made a pact. They had all sworn and Ginny knew the consequences as well as Hermione did. There was not a word to be uttered.
"Crucio" the mask muttered. Ginny fell forward clutching her stomach but making not a sound. Hermione had never admired anyone more than Ginny at that moment. Her heart was aching, she wanted to save Ginny and the baby, but she knew it was in vain. If they told them where Harry and Ron were they would only be killed anyway. Better to remain quiet and hope for a miracle.
"TELL ME!" the man said angrily. He seemed to be loosing his cool. Hermione felt something familiar in his tone. Something she knew well. But it did not sound like anyone she knew…no…it did…
Hermione smirked at him, "Sure I'll tell you" she said softly, teasingly. Anything to take their attention away from Ginny.
"Yes…" the man said bending down beside her. The switch in Hermione's brain clicked as she recognized the voice and her body responded in disgust. Convulsions hit her back as she lunged forward.
Hermione spit in his face. There was a moment of shocked silence shared by all. The moment of silence was broken with a loud slap. Hermione laughed through the pain. She was not intimidated; she had been prepared to die for the cause since she had become friends with Harry. Death did not scare her. What scared her was the man behind the mask. Had it really been so long? What had happened?
"Kill her" the man said removing his mask and smiling down at Hermione. She choked on her spit.
Ron Weasley was just smiling at her like it was another day at the burrow. She drew in a shaky breath and waited for death. The deatheaters advanced on her, she knew they were all grinning under their masks.
"Not her, the Weasley" Ron drawled. Hermione's brain was racking itself trying to find an answer for what was happening. Why was Ron dressed as a deatheater, why was he torturing them? Why did he want to kill his own sister? What spell was he under?
Hermione gasped in outrage, "No!" she cried; finding the strength to get on her feet she lunged at Ginny. Ron's single outstretched arm sent her sprawling back to the ground. "NO PLEASE! RON WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" she screamed crawling to Ginny. Ginny had turned white and she was staring at Ron as though he were a ghost.
"Ron?" Ginny whispered in disbelief.
"Now" Ron said urgently, a sickening happiness wrapped about his tongue. His face was contorted with nauseating glee. It could not have been Ron. It must have been some dirty trick.
Ginny turned to look at Hermione sadly; "Gin" Hermione whispered reaching to her. Wanting to comfort her best friend in the clutches of death.
"Fine you idiots. I'll do it" Ron muttered grabbing Ginny by her hair and pulling her to her feet "Avada Kedavra" said Ron, lazily pointing his wand at Ginny. A flash of green light and the whooshing sound of a high speed object coming towards them and Ginny was on the ground.
Hermione stopped breathing. She had forgotten how to breathe at the moment, Ginny was dead. Gone, and so was Harry's child… Hermione gasped for air but she wasn't receiving any. Gone.
"What's wrong with her? Who did that! Why is she turning blue…?"
Hermione's eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.
And here she was now.
In this tiny cage in a dungeon with twenty other remaining witches. Only twenty free witches remained, the rest had been killed or sold. Only twenty women who had been on her side were here with her now. And those here were broken beyond repair. Lost children, husbands, lovers…
Hermione had lost too. She had lost her best friends. And her lover…
She had been in this hole for two weeks, and in two weeks her world had turned around.
Voldemort had won. That was it. How? Ron gave up. Why? She did not know. She wished she knew but she did not. She couldn't imagine why Ron would just let Voldemort take over. All of their hard work, all of their lives spent to prevent this from happening gone in a moment. Harry then joined Voldemort's ranks too. He had visited her briefly last week to assure her that he and the remaining members of the Order were all working on a comeback plan, but that this was the only way to ensure safely for time being.
Hermione was unsure if it was even Harry talking to her. She was skeptical of everything. She hoped so desperately that Harry was in his right mind and was only fooling Voldemort; she desperately hoped it to be so. But she could not know. Ron had betrayed them, Ron had killed all of his family but for Percy, who had gladly joined Voldemort's ranks.
Hermione suspected that it was Ginny's death that truly broke Harry's resolve. Ron's betrayal of the order and of their friendship was the added blow to Harry's grief. But no matter what Ron had done Hermione knew Harry was trying to save him by giving in to Voldemort. He was working to free Ron and her. Eventually things would be okay. Loosing a wife and child was enough to send anyone over the edge. But she had never thought Harry would go so far as to even pretend that he was with Voldemort. Never had she though it. And Ron? Who knew what had happened to him. He could not have gone willingly, he could not have. He must have been under some curse. For Hermione knew in her heart Ron would not have betrayed them as such.
They had accomplished nothing! All of their hard work meant nothing; all of the horocruxes destroyed left Voldemort so weak. If only they had had time to kill him and finish it all. If only.
And yet the only result of their actions was the deaths of muggleborns and the enslavement of all others. The guard at her cell had told her that she was the last mudblood on the face of the world. And that she was only alive because many of the deatheaters held her in esteem. The thought made her want to vomit. They did not hold her in esteem, they were frightened of her, and she was the reminder to keep on their tirade. Harry was probably keeping her safe from death. And the deatheaters would not want her dead, for she was the ticking bomb to remind them of how things could be. Hermione was the last living opposition.
And now she sat in her tiny box and waited for Harry's next word. To know how many of the Order were left, to know what to do next. But for now, all Harry had told her was that she was safe. And that he would contact her should things change. He had told her he was working on a plan and he assured her he would contact her soon with its contents. Then came the low blow, Harry told her she was Malfoy's to flaunt and to parade as his prize for getting Potter. She was the woman of the trio; the brains behind the brawn and heart. A trophy.
Harry had told her that he had let Malfoy convince him to join the Deatheaters. He had explained this to her before the news broke public so she would not be alarmed. He reminded her it was all a farce. And told her to repeat it every time things became too real for her. Hermione loved Harry and she would believe him no matter what.
Hermione wiped away her tears and sighed softly. She had tried starving herself, choking herself, anything to get a rise out of anybody around her. But after the first few times Malfoy had demanded a permanent guard by her cell to watch her. They would not even grant her death, or even a tad bit of fun. They wanted her to live hell before she actually had to go there.
If Malfoy owned her was he going to keep her here forever? Not that she minded, she would rather have rotted away in this little box than have had to see his face ever again. He could not have been as so stupid to actually want her in his presence. For if Hermione saw Malfoy, she would not able to control herself.
Her fingers ached to feel his neck beneath them. She wanted his skin and blood under her nails. She wanted him beneath her, dying slowly and bleeding out. She wanted him dead. She felt in her heart that it was his doing for Ron's actions.
"Hey mudblood?" the guard said smacking her cage. Hermione ignored him and kept her eyes straight ahead.
"I 'eard you going home tomorrow, maybe even sooner than 'at" he chortled smacking the metal bars again. Hermione turned her face away from him.
"You should be 'appy mudblood bitch, you be much better off than these other whores" he mumbled looking around.
"You are lucky, lucky because you were Potters wee friend. Otherwise you'd be dead like 'em odder muddies" he continued on to himself.
"I wouldn't call this lucky" Hermione muttered silently.
"Wad'ya says? Eh! She talks" he laughed poking his fat fingers through her cage to touch her. Amusement was apparent in his voice as though he was a small child at a zoo and she was the monkey.
"Yes she does talk, too much for my taste. That will have to be fixed. And please do not touch her with your filthy fat hands" Draco muttered as he stepped into the grime of the dungeon. He crinkled his nose at the smell and sounds of the other women. This was not what he had expected, but he had not known what to expect. Perhaps some better treatment. He hadn't quite expected these women to be treated like animals, these were all purebloods. With the exception of Granger. Until now that was.
A/N: Gosh, my readers will hate me. This is another one to update. Oh well, I had to get this plot down too before I forgot it. But do not fear readers! Am I not a good updater? I update more often than most, so I promise to keep up on the updating of all of the other ones. I swear that I shall not get lazy. Yeah, I'm looking for something a little darker, I feel very fluffly about everything else I write so I thought I'd have an angry vegence fic to even it all out. I hope you enjoy.