August 6th, 1998
"Hallucinations are sensory experiences created in your mind that appear real, they can affect all five of your senses or focus on a single one."
Scratching the surface of her paper with an enchanted quill, Hermione continued to scribble down every word spoken.
Different types are starting with
Visual hallucinations Auditory hallucinations Tactile hallucinations Gustatory hallucinations Olfactory hallucinations
"Now these five are targ-"
"Sorry to interrupt Madame Pomfrey, but I had already read up on these and don't see why, with the short amount of time we have and all, why you're focusing on mental illnesses instead of physical ones. People come home every day at the brink of death, I don't think they care enough whether they are hallucinating or not if their arm has bloody fallen off."
"Language, Mrs. Granger!"
She frowned, brows furrowing as she realized she's snapping at her healing professor
"I apologize, I am just anxious; I don't want to be in a situation that I can't fix. I don't want anything happening to Ron or anyone else for that matter."
Madame Pomfrey's stern demeanor softened, as she spoke again, this time heading towards Hermione and placing her hand onto her worrisome forehead.
"My dear, don't frown, you worry yourself too much about others. I'm not teaching you this simply for the sake of teaching you. This knowledge is for you. I see the toll the war has taken on you already, and I worry....have- "
Hermione immediately stepped back, avoiding the hurt look on Madame's face as her hand slowly moved down to her side.
"I'm fine, you shouldn't focus on me. My mental health is perfectly intact," she said quickly as she gathered her notes, stuffing them into her beaded bag, ready to leave. If she had to, she would teach herself everything before it's too late.
Before Ron gets hurt.
"Well if you want to leave, I won't stop you, but, you mustn't ignore your pain, acknowledge-"
"I won't"
" Mrs. Granger!! Stop interrupting me."
"Sorry," she said quietly, a hidden rage in her tone.
"As I was saying, acknowledge that you have trauma, and talk to someone. It does not have to be me, but perhaps Ron? Have you told him about the voices?"
She stumbled back like someone punched her and knocked the air out of her lungs. "H-how d-d-did you k-know??"
"We as healers focus on the smallest details, it was just a hunch that you would develop voices in your head, as you seem to refuse to speak with anyone else. Now based on your reaction my suspicions are confirmed." Her words bit through Hermione like a bludger to her face. She didn't speak. Instead, she stopped. Stopped breathing completely.
Madame Pomfrey rushed to her side holding her up and pouring an unknown potion down her throat.
After a few coughs, her breath came back, clearing her throat so she could inhale properly.
1234
Exhale
1234
Inhale
1234
Exhale
A few painfully long moments later Hermione finally spoke again. Her logical mind returning to her.
"There aren't voices madame."
"What do you mean?"
"It's just one single voice."
...
Present Day
Hermione concluded if someone were to ask her whether or not she could explain her exact role in the war, or what she specialized in, she simply could not give an answer. Everything she had up till now was lost.
Her parents? Don't recognize her, it's silly to even keep her last name as Granger.
Harry Potter's best friend? Not that either, he's dead.
Ron Weasley's friend? Lover? Not in the slightest, not anymore.
A Gryffindor? Her fears are greater than her courage.
The brightest witch of her age? That spark burned out when Harry fell to the ground and never got up.
A healer? With a month of training, she only knew the basics.
A resistance fighter? Now she would laugh at that.
In all honesty, she's fully convinced herself that she has completely lost it. Yet she hasn't, it wasn't a fever dream, a hallucination or a state of psychosis. No. It was real. This time when her senses kicked in, they hit her with full force. Her widened eyes took in her situation and everything around her. She had been drugged and kidnapped and brought to.... to... Wait where was she?
The last thing she remembers was... Theo? And... Pansy? Bickering? After that, Theo gave her a potion. Idiot. She yelled in her head. Why did she obediently drink it? What the actual fuck, that was barbaric and completely insensible, to take random drinks from strangers, from.... from Theodore fucking Nott.
My, my, what a colourful choice of words.
Shut up, not now.
Surprisingly she didn't get another reply only a hint of laughter before the voice vanished. Sighing she decided to finally focus on the present, her current dilemma. She was placed in a room, on a bed much too large for her, in fact much larger than any other bed she had ever been on. It was made from old dark, mahogany wood, tarnished with gold plates around the pillar posts, that reached high above her, almost touching the ceiling. They were draped with satin silk curtains, the colours of deep emerald green, like the sheets that lay underneath her.
The room itself seemed to be a stateroom, found in valuable old Victorian country homes, housing only guests of utmost importance.
Yet the room was dreadful. It radiated with dark energy, the kind that would rip a person's soul and leave them broken and lost. She didn't think anything else could break her further. However, this room was decorated the same way it felt, with only deep green and black hues surrounding her, large decorative ornate walls and crystal glass chandeliers. In the far-right corner lay a mirror standing from the floor to the heightened ceiling, at least thrice the size of her. There were frames on the wall, left to collect dust with no pictures or images moving in them, only blank and empty canvases.
Directly in front of her bed lay a fireplace, so grand and exquisite, with the flames burning into embers and ashes, It was beautiful, mesmerizing. She took a step closer, the heat crept into her body, flames deliciously moving up her spine, seeping through, and reaching for her heart.
Just one touch, one taste.
Her hand reached out one-touch,
Pop
" What-"
"Mudblood, mustn't try to touch fire, she will get hurt" came a squeaky little voice from behind Hermione as she spun around
"Hopsey must make sure mudblood is bathed, fed and ready to meet the Mistress of the manor."
Hermione looked down to see a small female house-elf, with drooping bat-like ears and a grey cloth wrapped around her body. She seemed to be younger than the usual house-elves Hermione had seen before.
She wore a worried expression on her face, noticing that, Hermione didn't want to put the poor creature through any more distress than necessary. Softly speaking she bent down levelling her height with Hopsey. "Alright, that is fine with me. May I ask who the Mistress of the Manor is?"
"Hopsey, mustn't speak to Mudblood more than necessary." She replied looking nervously around her, with wide green eyes.
But Hermione needed answers, and fast, carefully choosing her next words she spoke again
"I see, if I say a yes or no question, can Hopsey nod her head?"
Hopsey hesitantly nodded in approval
Hermione took that as a sign to continue "Does Hopsey know where my, I mean- Mudbloods wand is?" her self-evidently cringing at the term she used to make sense to the elf.
Hopsey nodded no.
Hermione's lips shut tightly together a small frown making its way onto her face. If she couldn't find her magic, she could at least find out who's held her captive, or in this case, draped her in luxury she didn't understand.
"Okay Hopsey, Is the mistress Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?"
Hopsey nodded yes.
"Am I in the Parkinson's Manor?"
Hopsey nodded no.
Oh
" Is the Mudblood being done with the questions? Hopsey has to get Mudblood ready."
"Yes, that is all, thank you Hopsey"
Hermione decided she would just have to wait and find out, besides without her magic she had no idea how she would be able to leave or defend herself. Instead, she indulged in her curiosity, why and where exactly was she?
...
As soon as Hopsey was done with bathing and grooming, Hermione felt like an animal, pampered and fed all ready to be slaughtered. Living a false reality. She was put into a dress, foreign to her usual set of muggles pants and jumpers. Yet somehow a new set of undergarments and wardrobe seemed to be ready and waiting for her arrival. Not that she was allowed to touch or look at any of it, only instructed with what she must do in the given moment.
The dress she wore was simple yet elegant, a full sleeve black cotton slip, slightly flared as it reached to the bottom, past her knees. Fortunately, She was given a chance to keep her tattered old robe, which she wore on top to avoid the sudden tightness of her outfit, highlighting all her bones and non-existing curves, it was clear that one could see her ribs poke through, like a dead walking corpse, stuck in attire from their tragic past. The only comfort she received was the length of the sleeves, fully covering her scarred arms. She couldn't look at them, not right now, not ever.
Hopsey insisted on doing her hair as well, keeping it tied in a low braided bun, flat out refusing to let her keep her hair down despite Hermione's slight protest. Hopsey emphasized the importance of how the mistress needed Hermione to look presentable.
"Hopsey will now take Mudblood to Manor foyer"
All Hermione was able to do, was nod as the small elf immediately grabbed her arm and apparated them away.
Her head spun in circles, her magic depleted. She didn't have her wand but usually, she was able to feel the slight tingle of her magic, flowing through her body, manifesting in her veins, as her life source depended on it. Yet she felt nothing but the ache erupting through her head, everything had been numbed. She'd been submissive, allowed to be drugged, bathed, instructed and now... Now... She won't let herself be used as a puppet.
Just hear what they have to say and then plan your escape. Stay calm.
Escape?
Yes, I'm not staying here.
We'll see about that.
Before she could think about the voice further, Pansy's alluring face came directly within her eyesight. She was all dressed in black, except for a dainty gold locket that hung around her neck, carrying a matching gold ring with an emerald diamond glistening in the dim light. It was stunning, Hermione assumed it to be an old vintage heirloom of some sort. Although besides the delicate balance of the locket, Pansy gave off venomous vibes that radiated through her intense gaze, it was deadly enough to make any man or woman tremble at her sight. She wore wickedly long black heels matching her attire made of solely long lace sleeves and intricate black beads flowing down across the floor a few inches behind her. For some reason, Hermione never noticed Pansy's beauty until now, like she were a snake no longer recoiling in her den, but coming out for a bite. Maybe Hermione was all too busy with Harry and Ron to pay Pansy any attention, or Pansy simply just grew into her looks. Suited for being a Mistress.
"Hopsey you may leave me and the Mudblood alone now, we have some things to discuss." she stepped closer, staring at Hermione dead in the eye "girl to girl"
Her entire body shuddered as Pansy had purposely drawled the flashback from resurfacing to her memory. Precisely knowing exactly what she was doing.
She smiled, her red lips curving up as she saw Hermione catch hold of her breath.
"Please" she chuckled "I wonder what happened to your retorts Granger, maybe it was Bella who took away the Gryffindor courage from you after all."
Hermione didn't reply, didn't want to give into Pansy's words. Noticing this, Pansy sighed turning on her heel flicking her hand to gesture Hermione to follow.
As their steps echoed through the large manor, they passed the front door which swung inward at their approach without any of them visibly opening it. It seemed all too familiar to her even the hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering the stone floor. But realization didn't hit her till she saw the walls of the entrance hall that displayed pale-faced portraits lining all around. The portraits all contained a familiar sneer, their expressions filled with disgust as they looked down on her, yet they didn't talk, didn't utter a single sound.
She stopped, they had put her back. She's back in this foyer, in this hellish place
Please, anywhere but here.
"Were not there yet, keep moving mudblood" Pansy drawled, but noticed Hermione's eyes soley set at the portrait of Lucius Malfoy.
"Wait" she scoffed, a half-smile playing on her lips. "Don't tell me you believed we were in any other Manor." This time she cackled, the sound horrifically settling itself in Hermione's ears, echoing throughout the halls. " No, no, mudblood, I see your intellect has also been lost. You could not be dafter, no other Manor is as grand as this. Most of them are left in ruins- or have you forgotten we're in a war?"
"I- I didn't forget," Hermione rasped, clutching her arm, scarred with that wretched word.
Pansy simply raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms and waiting for a better response out of her.
Hermione's face visibly turned a shade darker out of anger. How fucking dare she.
Release that anger, I believe Pansy here, has not heard you
She let the voice influence her decisions to remain quiet again, the flames fuming through her body
"I didn't fucking forget Pansy, in case YOU have forgotten, I am the one who's targeted, hunted, I'm the one who's lost everything while you sit there draped in luxury and continue to call me slurs, reminding me, constantly that I-."
She heard a male voice completely cut her off, it wasn't Theo's voice though, this voice sounded darker, deep and in control. With no hint of prejudice or teasing. It sounded respectfully older. "Quite, on the contrary, Mrs. Granger, your services aren't required here for Mrs. Parkison, to-" he pressed his mouth together opening it slightly as if he were cautious of choosing every word, giving much thought to his decision "Ahh, what would we call it? Yes, offend you in any way. She was simply to escort you here."
The man then suddenly emerged from the shadows, draped in dark combat clothes, like the ones you would read about in Muggle stories. He looked like a Viking, she could see his muscular strength through his heavy geared attire. Unlike Theo's lean muscles and height, he was well kept, a bit shorter but much broader. He moved himself to reveal at end of the hall a bronze-handled door, Hermione recognized, that lead to the drawing-room.
"Blaise." Pansy spoke after giving Hermione a pointed look of irritation. "You must leave so soon?"
"Yes, the Death Eaters require a reminder of who they answer to, and which repercussions will take place if they don't behave." Hermione noticed Pansy openly smile at his words.
"Oh unfortunately I will be missing it, but no matter. I have to deal with something first."
"Indeed you do," Blaise replied, staring strictly at Hermione before patting a quick kiss on Pansy's cheek and turning to leave.
Sighing, Pansy's expression slightly paled as she continued to walk into the Drawing room, Hermione swiftly following her lead.
The drawing-room contained a long and ornate table. Illumination came from the roaring fire situated beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece, surmounted by a gilded mirror. At the head of the table, Theo sat with legs stretched out and his feet placed above.
"Finally.... you're here" he leered. "I've been bored out of my bloody mind, and Blaise is no fun without alcohol."
"Ahem." Pansy interrupted looking disappointed, but not shocked at the state Theo remained in.
"Oh, of course, she would have put up a fight, that's precisely why we decided to send you Pansy darling." Theo gleamed, his lips curving upwards in delight upon seeing Hermione, standing idly, clearly uncomfortable.
"Well now, The Mudblood seems to be in the right state of mind Theo, I believe it's high time we tell her why she's here after all."
Finally.
Theo chuckled stepping in closer, his hair messily coming in his eyes as he walked over.
"Well, you see it's quite simple really." His voice filled with excitement. "We brought you here to make a deal."
A deal? What could they possibly want that I have?
She looked up to meet Theo and Pansy's eyes, but their faces paled in comparison to hers. They seemed almost scared as if they have been caught, doing something they weren't allowed to.
A shadow fell over Hermione's body, and suddenly she felt the lite pulse of her magic flicker within her.
"I wasn't aware we were making any deals."
We're not, I don't want to make any deals. Hermione replied to the voice, she presumed that came from her thoughts.
Pansy only huffed slightly while Theo stepped back, hands slowly moving up, to show he was unarmed without his wand.
Wait- did they.... hear the voice in my head?
A low laugh emerged from behind her, she could feel a breath on her neck, sending chills up her spine. Dark magic invaded the room, silently twisting and turning around, indulging in the heat of her body, inspecting it while slowly making its way straight towards her chest.
She immediately spun around and enraptured herself within the gaze of icy grey eyes, even more dark and melancholy than she remembered.
"Surprised, I'm not dead after your attempted arson....." He purred, low and malicious the sound reaching deep into her, as her heart skipped another beat. "...Granger"
~
Hello my lovely readers, hope you're enjoying so far!
I have made Pinterest boards for all the characters and would highly recommend to look through those while continuing the rest of the story from this chapter onwards, now that they have all been introduced. (You can find the links in my bio)
I will also now be associating songs with either each chapter or scene that I see fit. So make sure to follow my Spotify and Pinterest!!
With love, always
xx Sirens