Dark Void.

Dark Void.

"Weariness, a bitter taste of déjà-vu,

Haunted my sad mind...

Deprived of any joy...

Lost in a parallel world,

I dreamt of diving deep

Into a dark abyss...

What provides life with relief

Is the shadow of death..."

Assombrissement De L'âme, Dark Sanctuary

Hermione had felt him get up, but was too exhausted to do anything, too hurt and torn to care. She could feel warm blood dripping down her thighs and knew that if nothing was done, she would die from sheer loss of blood. But why should that matter? After what had just happened, she welcomed Death with open arms, longing for the eternal nothingness that was soon to come. She started to loose consciousness, barely aware that warm tears were still cascading down her cheeks. Finally, she let herself slip into a sweet oblivion that wrapped itself around her, rocking her swiftly to sleep...

She drifted through the darkness, nothing more than an invisible trail of thought lost in the Void. She no longer felt pain, nor regret; nothing from before was of any importance, almost as if it had all been a dream. Only the growing cold, washing through what was left of her body, reminded her of her approaching end.

Quite suddenly something was drawing her back. Though she would have sworn she was by then numb, the pain came again, seemingly worse than before. She desperately tried to get away, but the burning sensation did not cease; on the contrary, it continued, becoming even more acute. Whimpering, she wished it all to end; she wanted to return to where she was before, where nothing existed. No more pain, was that too much to hope for? Was she to suffer to her last breath? And then, as quickly as it came, it stopped, and she felt herself sinking once again into darkness...

Time passed, and she found herself resurfacing from her slumber... Was she supposed to wake? Shouldn't she be dead? Maybe she was and this was just what was on the other side. Opening one eye, she saw what appeared to be a candle looming next to her, but she couldn't be certain as it kept swimming in and out of focus. She opened her other eye as well and saw it was indeed a candle, which seemed to be resting on a dark wooden bedside table. Was there furniture in the afterlife? She raised her head and noticed that she was still in the room where it had happened. Where Lucius Malfoy had violated her. She had expected him to kill her, but he had apparently decided to leave her to die by herself, not that she felt as though she was dying. Strangely enough, she wasn't even in pain. After taking a calming breath, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, unsure whether she would have the strength to do even that. Looking down at her naked body, she was surprised to find that she was not bleeding, nor was she injured. Why, she wasn't even dirty and neither were the sheets! She touched her neck with trembling fingers, but could find no evidence of the bite wound. Had someone healed her?

She quickly looked around the room, half expecting someone to be lurking in the shadows, but she was alone. She scanned the room for her wand, but it was unsurprisingly absent. Although there was a roaring fire in the grate, she felt none of its warmth. Her whole body started to tremble uncontrollably, and instinctively, she drew the satin sheets around her before curling into a foetal position, seeking protection.

She felt broken, as though her soul had been irreparably broken, smashed into tiny fragments and he had stolen one of the pieces. She would never be whole again. Even if she were to survive, nothing would ever be as it was before. Tears threatened to cloud up her already swollen eyes, but she desperately tried to hold them back. Why was she still alive? Why couldn't she have been left to die? It would have been far better than to live after what had happened...

Only after she repeated these questions in her head, time and time again, did she actually realise their meaning. Emerging from her state of distress, mind momentarily clear, did she actually think of her predicament. If she had not only been left alive but also been cured, it meant she had some further purpose. Could they want to use her to get to Harry? To blackmail the Order? But he needn't have had her healed for such a reason; generally those who were abducted weren't always set free. No, if she had to be in "good health", there had to be some ulterior motive. Perhaps she was to become a slave, his or someone else's...

"Ron, Harry, where are you now that I need you?" she whispered and let the tears break through.

"Well, Severus? Can you give me no indication of when she will wake? How powerful was the potion you gave her?" A bored drawl sounded through the study.

"She should have awoken by now. But I do not think it would be prudent to attempt anything against her at present. She will be in quite a state as it is without having to see the man who is the cause of her plight."

"Do you really think me so foolish?"

His friend snorted in reply, "Actually, Lucius, if there is one thing I have learned from today, it is to never expect anything of you. For you are more than likely to do something unpredictable and nonsensical."

"What is the reason for such rudeness, Severus? Are you still upset because I involved you in this little affair?"

"'Upset' does not fully cover how I feel at the moment," he answered darkly.

"Delightful," Lucius hissed, but instead of answering the dark wizard's comment, he snapped his fingers, and a house-elf appeared with a loud crack.

"Y-yes, master?"

"Pisky, there is a young lady in the guest room in the west wing, facing the gardens. You are to bring her a tray with a warm broth, some bread and some water. Have I make myself clear?"

It paused for one second, trying to picture the room in question. But its belated reply earned it a quick blow on the head from its master's cane. Clutching its head in pain, it squeaked up, "Yes, m-master," before bowing low and disappearing with a snap of its long fingers.

"Lucius, it is high time you learned how to treat your things." The Potions master sighed.

"I beg to differ: one must rule with an iron fist to avoid disloyalty. And there is no better way to insure their obedience than with the threat of pain," he retorted.

"As true as that may be, rendering your servant nervous wrecks is no assurance of the quality of their services."

"I shall treat my servants as I see fit!"

"Temper, temper," he sung softly.

Before he could seriously consider cursing his friend, he was interrupted by a loud crack as the house-elf reappeared, cowering, at his feet.

"Yes?" he said, voice dripping with malice.

"I-I is gone to the Miss's room. An-and I is knocking, but the Miss is not opening the d-door. So I is A-Ap-parating in, and she i-is crying on the bed, s-sir. I is sp-speaking to her, b-but she is not hearing Pisky. R-rolled into a b-ball she is, sir. I is leaving the tray n-near the b-bed." the elf squeaked, avoiding its master's eyes, and stared at his feet instead.

"Very well. You may go."

The frightened elf didn't need to be told twice; it removed itself as fast as possible from the blond wizard's sight.

"What are you planning to do now, Lucius? You may have caused more damage than you had previously imagined."

"Oh, blast it all, Severus. Must you be so insufferable?" he hissed.

"If you had thought more thoroughly, beforehand, you would not find yourself in such a situation."

"Are you only capable of lecturing me when the deed is already done? If that be the case, you have leave to remain silent," he snapped.

"Of course, forgive me. I could point out that I was not given the opportunity to lecture you before the deed, but I won't; you need to concentrate on thinking your way out of this dreadful predicament."

"Severus, you are dangerously close to making me lose my patience, and I will not be responsible for my actions should you continue along these lines."

"Ah, but you see, that is exactly the point! You are never responsible for your actions. Circe, use the apparently useful brain that was bestowed upon you! If you did not possess such a blinkered view of the world, you would be able to understand the consequences of your actions beforehand! Instead, you rush headfirst into situations that then prove to be far more serious than you had imagined."

"Forgive me, Severus, but that still sounds like a lecture to me."

"For someone who came up with such an ingenious plan to actually abduct the girl, you seem highly dim-witted."

"One more word, Severus. Just one more... " he hissed, pointing his wand in the other man's face.

"My, my... Someone thinks highly of himself now, doesn't he?" he sneered, seemingly completely indifferent to the wand only inches from his head. "The only thing you can do now, Lucius, is wait. You must ascertain how deep her wounds run... both physical and psychological. It is only when you see how she fares after such an experience that you can decide how you can relate with her.

"If you want her alive, you must make sure she eats something soon. Having lost the amount of blood she has, it would be best ere she wastes away. "

"Wait? ... just to wait?" Lucius repeated as he poured another glass of Firewhiskey for himself. "Why not? I am in no hurry... "

Tear after tear streamed down her face, leaking from her soul. He had taken from her something that could never be replaced. No words she knew could express it; no words to accurately describe the enormous void in her soul, eating away at her heart.

Each tear washed away a part of her, her emotions, her cares, leaving her void of all but one thought, she must escape before anything else could happen. As hopeless as her circumstances felt, she could not bear simply waiting for her fate to be sealed. She had to at least try to escape.

Rising unsteadily to her feet, she walked slowly to the bed, her head spinning through the effort. She sat down on the bed to regain her bearings when a thought struck her. Thoughtfully, she caressed the satin sheets before ripping them from the bed. Taking hold of them, she tore into the centre, creating a large hole in the middle. She threw the ruined sheet over her head, letting it cover her entirely. As the longer side would trail behind her uncomfortably, she tore through the sheets yet again, creating long strips of cloth that which she tied around her middle to secure the rest of her makeshift robe.

Feeling slightly more protected, she looked out of the tall window. It was almost dark, the last rays of the sun long since gone, leaving only purple colours in the clouds. The almost full-moon was already shining in the sky, a slight mist creeping over what she presumed was the garden. How long had she been gone? She sat down on the floor, resting her head on her knees, watching the candles burn and the flames dance in the grate.

She waited, her mind going blank while she tried to summon up some courage for the task that lay ahead. It was then she noticed that there was a tray of what appeared to be broth and bread near the bed. Was this her last meal? She could not even entertain the idea of eating something he had offered her: the mere thought made her nauseous.

She walked over to the door, slowly touching the wooden frame, and was surprised to find the door was unlocked. Opening it slightly, she stuck her head out and observed a long corridor stretching into the distance on either side of her: portraits lined the walls while candles cast an eerie light onto the floor, revealing white marble underneath a green velvet carpet.

She strained her ears, trying to hear the smallest of sounds, but not a thing stirred. Taking her chance, she ran out of the room and to the right, down the corridor. Even though she wasn't paying particular attention to her surroundings, she could see it was littered with priceless artefacts. The corridor eventually came to a junction, and hesitating but a moment, she turned left, coming face to face with a very startled Draco Malfoy.

Snape was half-inclined to leave his friend alone, to ponder over his 'misfortunes' in peace, but decided instead to sit and be of some company to the wizard. There was a grandfather clock in the corner, its sharp ticking having a calming, almost hypnotic effect on him. Letting out a tired sigh, he summoned a book from the bookshelf behind him and started to read.

His train of thought, however, was interrupted by Lucius' summoning of Pisky.

"Yes, m-master?"

"Will you go back and tell the Miss, if she does not decide to eat now, she will have to wait quite some time before she will be allowed to again?"

Bowing, the house-elf disappeared, only to reappear less then a minute later with a look of pure terror on its face.

"Well?"

"M-master. T-the Miss is not in the r-room," it squeaked.

Any form of sadistic pleasure Lucius Malfoy could have derived from punishing his servant was forgotten when a piercing scream erupted from upstairs.

"Granger?" he said incredulously.

He was just as she remembered him looking the last time she had seen him four months earlier: tall with pale skin, silvery blond hair and the same grey eyes as his father. The last time she had seen him was during the battle at Hogwarts, the night he had let the Death Eaters into the castle, sealing Dumbledore's fate.

She was roused from her thoughts when, with one rapid movement, he had slammed her into the wall.

"What are you doing here?" the cold voice sounded in her head, and she found herself staring into his eyes while fear, mixed with rage, kept her silent.

"I asked you a question, Mudblood!" He looked her up and down. "What is this? Why are you wearing nothing but these sheets?"

Still she did not reply.

A malicious leer lit up his face. "You've become his whore, haven't you?"

Slap. He stepped back, the force of the blow making him stumble.

"That is the second time you have raised your filthy hand to me! No Potter and Weasley to save you now." Taking out his wand, he hissed, "Crucio."

Burning fire coursed through her bones and invisible knives pierced her flesh while she felt every nerve in her body being crushed. Falling to the floor, she writhed, a piercing scream escaping her lips.

"It seems, Severus, you were careless enough to leave the door unlocked," the blond wizard said as they sprung to their feet, Disapparating on the spot. They Apparated to in front of the room where they had left her, but it did not take them long to locate the pair, Hermione's screams echoing down the corridor, indicating the way. The sight that met their eyes made them stop dead in their tracks.

"That is quite enough, Draco," Lucius shouted over the screams.

"Just a bit more, Father... "

"I said that is enough!" he roared, grabbing his son by the throat and pinning him to the wall.

Daggers flew from the stormy eyes that were piercing the frightened ones of the young man.

"B-but she hit me," he whimpered, gasping for breath.

"I have told you many times before, Draco, to never touch my things!" he hissed.

Loosening his grip around his son's throat, he let the boy fall to the ground. Stooping down, he picked up the trembling body. She shivered as soon as he touched her skin.

"I will deal with you later," he said, directing the statement to the blond boy. "Severus, kindly take him to my study. I will be with you shortly."

Carrying the shivering witch in his arms, he left a confused Draco and a thoughtful Severus behind him.

Walking through the still open door and slamming it behind him, he deposited her on the bed. It was then he actually noticed what she was wearing: sheets covering her body in a similar way to the pillowcases worn by his house-elves. Taking out his wand, a large glass of brandy appeared in his hand. Turning back to the girl, he noticed she had yet to stop trembling and was staring at him with empty eyes, void of anything.

"Drink it," he said, presenting her with the glass.

She didn't acknowledge the fact that she had heard him at all.

"Drink it," he repeated.

Still her face betrayed nothing, no feelings. She was just staring at him with those ghostly blank eyes, making him feel slightly unnerved.

Growing impatient, he thrust the glass in front of her. "I shall tell you once more time to drink this before I force you."

A flicker of fear appeared in her eyes, so fast he thought he had imagined it, before they turned empty and full of shadows once again. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she brought herself to look into his eyes, her gaze hardening as soon as it met his, before she suddenly slapped his hand away, sending the glass and its contents to the floor.

"How dare you?" she whispered before she spat at his feet, dirtying his polished black boots.

Raising an eyebrow, he scourgified his boots, and then cleared the mess from the floor with a few flicks of his wand. Placing it back in his cane, he sat down on the bed beside the trembling girl.

Putting his index finger gently onto her lips, he leaned towards her, eyes locking on hers as he whispered softly, "When I offer you kindness, you would be wise to accept it. I may not be so benevolent in the future. During your stay here, I want none of this insolent behaviour. I demand the uttermost respect and humility from you, or I will be forced to take action. Do you understand?"

Upon hearing him voice such a threat, terror dawned on her face; after lowering her eyes, she nodded.

"Good," he continued, removing his finger from her soft lips. "You shall wait for me in this room and do nothing in my absence. When I return, we shall continue this discussion and decide your punishment."

"P-punishment?" she shivered.

"Of course, you have hardly behaved admirably, have you? Leaving this room without permission, ruining expensive bed sheets, slapping my son and being disrespectful to me... quite a list, is it not?"

Loathing, disgust, terror... they were all there, burning at him, mirroring her soul.

Walking away, he turned back as he reached the door and said, "I highly recommend you respect my wishes. If you do, nothing ill should befall you. I think you will find me quite amiable when I get what I want. Wait for me here, I shan't be long." With these words, he left her.

As he arrived in front of the study doors, he could hear the sound of muffled voices speaking rapidly and footsteps pacing on the parquet coming from within. "Draco, always one to overreact," he sighed upon entering the room. His son immediately stood still, taking one last glance at Severus, who was leaning lazily near the fireplace.

"Sit," he ordered as he, himself, took a seat behind his desk. Draco was quick to follow suit.

"Now, Draco. Miss Granger will be staying here for some time..."

"Why?"

"She is here, Draco, because I brought her here. That should suffice as an explanation."

"But, Father, she's a Mudblood! How can you? I mean, after everything you've taught me... Doesn't that count any longer?" he almost shouted. "Why is it different with her?! How are you not polluting yourself by touching her?! How can you go back on your principles because of a passing fancy?!"

"Draco," he whispered softly. "Never question my wishes. Never, ever question me, or you shall be quite sorry. The time for me being lenient with you has long passed; disrespect me once more and you will have to face the consequences."

"But, Father... " he pleaded.

Warning dripping from every word, he repeated, "Draco, do not question my wishes."

The pale boy's face drained of what little colour it had.

"Yes, Father. Sorry, Father."

"You may go. Dinner will be served at eight o'clock sharp."

Getting up, he nodded to the two men and hurried out of the room, a somewhat troubled look on his face.

"Poor boy, he must really be quite puzzled," the dark haired wizard said, a note of amusement in his voice. "All the certainties of a lifetime crumbled in a matter of seconds. I could almost feel sorry for him.

"Now if you will excuse me, I have an important draught brewing in the dungeons that requires my supervision. I will see you at dinner. That is if you haven't found a better way to spend your time." And with that, he left, black robes billowing behind him.

Letting out a sigh, he took out his silver pocket watch. Half past six. I suppose, I might as well leave her be a while longer. That leaves me ample time to think how I should act. Oh, the ways I could punish her. A cold smile lit his lips.

Hermione waited in silence staring at the closed door, listening to the sound of his footsteps fade away. The way his eyes had flashed when she had flung away the glass, she had expected him to slap her; though his words had hardly been better. From what he had told her, she was to be a perfectly obedient slave until he tired of her, respecting every wish, following every order. To avoid pain and suffering, she would have to become what he wanted her to be. At present, she thought she would rather die then do anything he asked her to, but then she thought of the pain she had felt when the younger Malfoy had cast the Cruciatus curse on her. It had only lasted a few minutes at the most, yet it had been enough to make her want to do anything to make it stop. Her thoughts turned to Neville's parents and how they withstood it: rather than betray the Order, they had preferred to continue being tortured until their minds were beyond repair. She knew that she would not be able to do the same, were the need to arise, and felt quite ashamed at her weakness. Her world suddenly started to spin, and be it from the exhaustion or fear, she fainted, falling once again into darkness.

"Wake up, Miss Granger." A soft voice she knew all to well was calling her from her slumber.

She opened her eyes and found Lucius Malfoy sitting next to her on the mattress. She sprung up immediately.

"Would you care to join me near the fire?" he asked, though she knew it was more of an order than a request. With a wave of his wand, two armchairs appeared; he took his place nearest to the fire and waited for her to follow. She could hardly move, feeling as faint as she was, so she shook her head, hoping this would not be classified as an act of insubordination.

"You will not?" he asked coldly.

"I can't... " she replied shakily. "I can't get up..."

Regarding her pale face slowly, he sighed. "Very well then. After some consideration, I have decided what will become of you. You are to remain my guest until I think your presence is no longer necessary. You will be allowed to roam the Manor freely, but you may not contact, in any way, anyone from the outside. You will be respectful to me, to my guests and to anyone else who lives in my domain. This is to be your room, and you will be allowed some forms of comfort, such as fresh clothes and food. Your collaboration will be rewarded while if you question me in any fashion, you will be punished. Have I made myself clear?"

She just stared, not knowing what else to say.

"I expect you to answer me when I am talking to you," he snapped.

"Perfectly... " she whispered.

"Good. Now, concerning your punishment... " His voice soft yet deadly. His grey eyes alight yet again with a dark light that clouded them over.

Author's Note and thanks: I really must thank Sempra for all the work she did on this chapter. She is really a wonderful beta. I thank those of you who have read this and those who have reviewed. Hopefully it won't take so long to update next time.

Ophelia