Senses

Chapter 32

"Had enough 'bright' ideas, mudblood?"

Hermione didn't need to see him to see the smirk on his face though Severus' memory of the man did provide. Her past-self coughed and gasped for air as her body was held halfway up out of a freezing cold river where they'd just dunked her under for a fifth time.

"Why we even keeping this filth around Marx? No one's gonna buy her." The man on her right twisted her arm up higher forcing her body to swallow down the water she'd been trying to spit out. Somewhere off to the right, light sniffling of scared children could be heard.

"She's still a good fuck. Someone will pay enough for that, now shut up. Besides, I think a valuable lesson can be learned here."

Hermione whimpered as she was half-dragged out of the water. The stones in the bank digging into the open wounds on her legs. She'd tried to run again, this time she'd made it pretty far before getting turned around. They'd nearly taken off her legs with the chain that had brought her to the ground before dragging her mercilessly back to the camp. Her entire body felt as though it were on fire.

"Yeah wouldn't know, would we?" The man's under breath comment had gone unheard by the man in charge but it still made her stomach roll.

She could hear a small commotion somewhere up ahead before the men that held her wrenched her up to her uncoordinated feet. They walked slowly, each man's grip so tight it nearly took off her waterlogged skin. She tried her best to stay quiet but it was an impossible task.

When they did finally release her she fell face first into the fine dirt that she knew surrounded the area where others were being kept. She could hear their stifled whimpers and whispering prayers. She could feel the heat of the campfire, always just out of reach and it took every ounce of strength she had left not to crawl inside its warmth.

"Mudbloods are just like the beasts in this forest. All they need is a good master to remind them of their place in this world. Good training, to make them useful to their better halves. It just takes the right whip to bring down the dragon."

There was a heavy silence before the heavy clang of chain filled her world. The darkness of the memory flashed with the possible location. She hadn't seen of course, so the memory was just as black as ever with her memory of what she must have looked like taking center stage.

The first blow knocked her even further into the ground, all of the meager air she'd managed to take in leaving her chest in one fell swoop. The sound of laughter mixed in with sorrow as the chain came down again this time over the backs over her knees.

Dirt filled her lungs as she tried to cry out. Her hands reaching blindly to try and stop the next blow. The chain wrapped around her forearm and she tried to take hold of it before it was harshly ripped free.

"You still wanna fight this? Huh?" Marxon's voice dripped with male ego.

Hermione let out a sharp cry as the back of his hand cut across her cheek sending the entire memory dark. When it would come to again, her inner visage was being held aloft by her hair as blood poured from her parted lips.

"I'm gonna teach you your place in this world." His voice was low and deep against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.