Eden, chapter 8: Pride

Sigyn: Because I was personally triggered by this chapter, I’m putting in a Content Warning for false seduction. I don’t really know how to phrase it or what the correct terminology is, but you’ll understand when we get there.

‘This must be the wood,’ she said thoughtfully to herself,

Piffy: *holds up chopstick* This must be the wood!

‘where things have no names.

Sigyn: I think it’s called a chopstick?

I wonder what’ll become of my name when I go in? I shouldn’t like to lose it at all – because they’d have to give me another, and it would almost be certain to be an ugly one.’ – Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

Sigyn: Why did you have to drag Lewis Carroll into this? He doesn’t deserve that!

---

‘I want you to make full use of the new facilities available to you in order to make yourself respectable before you present yourself to me this evening.

Cin: Bold of you to imply that a Mudleeks can be “respectable”.

Piffy: That… sentence… hurt…

I have left you a robe to wear, but be sure not put it on until you are ready to join me.

Sigyn: Why, do you want to watch her get dressed?

Be well aware that things shall become all the worse for Weasley if you refuse to comply with my wishes.

Sigyn: Could you stop pressing the Ron button? It’s getting old.

I patiently await your arrival. Malfoy.’

Cin: Oh good, he’s reminding her that they’re not on a first-name basis!

My eyes travel furiously over the twirly scrawl across the note, before I rip it in half, quarters, eighths, sixteenths, and let it fall to the floor.

My arrival? My arrival where? Where does he want me to go?

Sigyn: I figure you’ll find out when you get there.

Even if I knew where to go, how the hell am I meant to get there?

Cin: Maybe he’ll come by your room and manhandle you to wherever he wants you to go, like he’s been doing for the last seven fucking chapters.

The bloody door’s locked – does he expect me to break it down, or what?

Piffy: This Fakemione is so stupid!

Cin: Yeah! I mean, clearly we saw Lucius isn’t even a skilled enough wizard to cast Lumos properly, so who’s to say he cast Colloportus properly, either? She probably could just kick the door down!

Piffy: Not that she would, because that would require her being proactive.

Cin: *flops down and makes an Akuma noise*

There isn’t even a window I can climb out of, for god’s sake.

And what does he want to see me for? I don’t ever want to see him again after what happened when I last saw him.

Sigyn: Well, that’s your tough nuggets, isn’t it? Because there’s no reason to expect him to give a fuck what you want.

I sigh, sitting down on my new bed, staring out into my new bedroom.

Well, I suppose it must be my new bedroom. It’s where I woke up after I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion in the cupboard he locked me in.

Someone must have moved me here while I was sleeping.

Cin: Three guesses who, and the first two don’t count.

God knows why I didn’t wake up while they were moving me.

Sigyn: Maybe you were passed out from exhaustion, or maybe he used MAGIC to make sure you didn’t wake up.

It could be worse, I suppose. It might be dark and dingy and old, but it’s a palace compared to the cell I became used to. I mean, I’ve got a bed, for crying out loud! Not only that, but I’ve got an en-suite bathroom.

An actual en-suite bathroom.

Sigyn: Good. Now please take an actual bath.

Piffy: She should be excited about a bath!

It’s almost laughable, really.

I have no idea why I’ve been given my own room, and for now I don’t care.

Sigyn: Then why do we have to listen to you prattle on about it?

Maybe I’ll ask him one day.

Alright, so he wants me to ‘make myself presentable’ and to get dressed in the robes he’s left for me… I assume he means that green, silky thing placed carefully over the chair by the dressing table.

But where the hell does he want me to go when I’ve got dressed?

Take it one step at a time. Clean yourself up first, and get changed.

Piffy: She’s taking a bath because he wants her to, and not because she desperately wants a bath! I hate this!

I pad across the floor and into the black-tiled bathroom, and I turn on the taps attached to the sunken bath in the middle of the floor.

I peel off my robe, then sit down and slip my body into the water. It reaches my waist as my feet touch the ground. Every bruise and cut smarts, but I allow myself to sink deeper, further and further until the burning liquid reaches my neck.

Piffy: Does she really need to make the temperature that high?

Perhaps if I stay in here long enough I could boil all of the guilt, all of the pain and all of the anger out of me.

I wish I could watch them all suffer so much that they want to die.

Sigyn: I wish you would actually MAKE them suffer. Yesterday was a start, I’ll grudgingly give you that.

I grab a rough looking brush and a bar of soap from the side of the bath, using them to scrub the dried blood, sweat, and grime off of me.

I wish I could watch Bellatrix scream and writhe and beg for mercy under the Cruciatus Curse, over and over and over again.

Piffy: Where was this Hermione for the past seven chapters?

My skin flushes crab red with the heat of the water and the roughness of the brush, but I don’t stop, even as the bristles snag at my cuts and grazes.

Piffy: Maybe you should have the water at a reasonable temperature and not scrub away the uppermost layer of your skin. I cannot fathom why anyone would want to bathe this aggressively.

I wish I could watch Dolohov dragged naked through the streets in a sea of humiliation.

Cin: Good to know you’re picturing Dolohov naked.

I wash my hair, furiously scratching at my scalp with my soapy fingers, before I dunk my entire body into the boiling water,

Piffy: That’s not what that word means! I believe that she’s scalding herself, but that’s not what “boiling” means!

blocking out the world around me.

I wish I could see Lucius suffer. I wish I could see him lose everything. I want to see him lost in his own despair, crying and screaming and wailing until he falls down dead out of sheer exhaustion. I wish that I’d driven that knife right into his heart.

Cin: Honestly, me too.

God willing,

one day I will.

A small stream of bubbles escapes from my mouth.

Dear God,

before I die let me see Lucius Malfoy suffer. Let me laugh over him as he suffers at my feet.

Cin: Could you, though? You were all like “WHAT HAVE I DONE?!” after stabbing him when he literally told you to kill him.

Oh god,

let me see him in pain, and I will be grateful forever.

Sigyn: You saw him in pain yesterday, remember? Be grateful now.

I burst through the surface, wiping the dripping water away from my face.

Amen.

I pull myself out of the bath, splashing boiling,

Sigyn: nope not boiling

soapy water along the tiled floor.

Piffy: Ah good, now this place will have even more of a water damage problem.

I pull a towel down from the rail attached to the wall, wrapping it around me like a blanket before heading back into my bedroom, where I dry myself off before sitting down at my dressing table.

The face that stares back at me from the mirror is barely recognizable, thanks to the huge gash across my cheek, and the other over the bridge of my nose, the bruise on my cheekbone and the others on my jaw, my temple, my forehead…

I sigh, and I finish drying off my hair with the towel before setting at it with a comb I find on the dressing table. It hurts like hell – my hair is so tangled it takes me what feels like an hour to work through all of it,

Cin: …they didn’t provide her with shampoo or conditioner, just a bar of soap. I mean, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but Lucius did tell her to “make herself respectable”.

gradually prising knots out, ripping hairs away from my head.

Sigyn: …I think Hermione forgot how to brush her hair.

Piffy: I don’t think she knows how to do any kind of hygiene without hurting herself!

Sigyn: Why does she even want to hurt herself? Lucius has been doing plenty of that for her!

When I eventually finish it off I rub at it again with the towel until it starts to frizz out around my head; a sure sign that it’s nearly dry.

I go back into the bathroom, finding a toothbrush and toothpaste by the sink. I scrub hard at my teeth and I rinse my mouth out, spitting it all out of me – the tears, the blood and the vomit, everything I’ve had to taste in the last few days.

Sigyn: YOU HAVEN’T RINSED YOUR MOUTH FOR A FEW DAYS?! Gross! You didn’t even wet some toilet paper and run it along your teeth or something? Ewww.

Cin: Also, why is this not the first thing she did when she figured out she had a bathroom?!

I go back to the dressing table, looking in the mirror again.

Bastard. How does he expect me to ‘make myself presentable’ if I look as if I’ve done a couple of rounds in a boxing ring?

Cin: Valid question, I mean, if they didn’t provide shampoo or conditioner, they probably also didn’t provide makeup… not that Hermione would know how to use makeup if they did.

Like an instant answer to that question, a bottle of clear liquid resting on the dressing table catches my eye. I pick it up and read the label.

‘For instant skin healing – removes everyday bruises and cuts.’

Cin: Oh, okay then.

Piffy: Oh, yeah, I love that wording.

Cin: Makes me wonder what kind of weird shit is going on between the Malfoys.

Sigyn: Probably just standard lumberjack play.

Cin: um… yeah, I don’t know about the Malfoys, but Drepanon and I wouldn’t do lumberjack play around a bunch of delicate animal preserves.

I snort with hysterical laughter

Sigyn: She’s reading the spork, you guys!

before I unscrew the bottle of ointment and dab it onto the wounds on my face. It stings, but it makes the cuts heal up instantly and the bruises disappear as if they were never there.

I sit back and take a long look at myself in the mirror. I might be clean, but it’s a different girl I see in the mirror before me than the one I’m used to. My eyes have the wild, skittish look of someone that’s becoming accustomed to living in continuous fear.

“I’m Scared!”: 20

Cin: That’s your own damn fault, you dumb twit.

I stand up and shake out the robe he’s given me so I can look at it properly.

I don’t want to wear it. Isn’t there anything else I could wear?

Sigyn: SHUT UP, PAMIE, OR I SWEAR I WILL FUCK YOU UP!

…

Sorry, that mini-paragraph brought back some bad memories. Let’s see if I can articulate this properly for anyone who doesn’t already know me.

Hermione is being an awfully whiny and entitled prisoner. It’s one thing to have unrealistic expectations of basic human kindness if obsessmuch is going for Good Cannot Comprehend Evil, but it’s a whole nother thing for the captive of a terrorist organization, who has been psychologically and physically tortured for days or possibly weeks, to go, “oh I don’t WANT to wear this, give me something ELSE”. I don’t want to hear how much she doesn’t want to wear the clothes she’s been given. There are bigger fish to fry in this circumstance.

Piffy: It would have come off better if she had thought, “Why does he want me to wear this? It’s kind of creepy,” instead of … that.

I put it back and walk instead to the wardrobe, pulling open the heavy oak doors with a little difficulty.

I gasp out a little incredulous laugh as I rifle through the robes that fill it. Plain woolen robes – all of them in variants of brown, black, or grey. Dirty colours.

Mud-like colours.

Romain: Um, some people actually like that aesthetic. Don’t be dissin’.

Cin: This isn’t Royal Chaos. You don’t get to dress yourself up in endless luxurious fabrics with vibrant colors. That’s just not how this works ugh. It has nothing to do with your blood status.

Piffy: I’m surprised she has such a variety of dark colors to choose from.

I slam the doors shut and pick up the green silky thing instead, cursing furiously under my breath all the while as I ease it over my head.

Sigyn: “Ugh I hate this soft luxurious robe made of pretty material, I want to wear something else, wah” just

It falls in silky folds to the ground,

Sigyn: Yes, you already described it as silky.

completely covering my feet. I somehow negotiate my way through the laces as the back,

Sigyn: That should be “at the back” or “on the back”

silently hating him with every fiber of my being for not providing me with either underwear or shoes,

Sigyn: YOU WHINING, UNGRATEFUL *TWAT*, OH MY FUCKING… UGH! *starts throwing furniture around the room*

Cin: Also, every time she says she hates him, it’s for a new and stupid reason.

bloody, bloody bastard, I hate him, hate him-

Sigyn: I hate YOU! I hate YOU! I hate YOU and your whinging TOO!

I do the button up at the top of the robes…

And I’m pressing into something really small, and then dissolving, disappearing, melting into thin air, floating through nothing-

Black space. Darkness.

No light,

Sigyn: hey is it dark? i didn’t quite catch that.

Stop Holding My Hand With Your Hamfists!: 14

no sound.

Some kind of void, maybe?

No, not a void. That cold stone floor under my feet wouldn’t be present in a void, would it?

Sigyn: As someone who’s been kicked into the Void a couple times, um… maybe?

Besides, voids don’t technically exist… right?

Sigyn: What did I just say?

But there’s nothing here! Just darkness.

Cold, black silence. Nothing.

Keep calm. It’s a mind-trick, a sick game of his, nothing more.

I take a deep breath. The in, the out.

Sigyn: I kind of love it when she says, “The in, the out” because it’s so silly, it completely detracts from the mood. And my rage.

I walk forwards, reaching out into the darkness.

Slowly, carefully. I’m not even breathing.

Sigyn: What happened to “The in. The out”?

Who knows what could be in here, in this place… where am I?

Keep walking, step by tentative step. I force myself onwards and onwards until eventually my fingertips touch-

Stone. Cold stone.

Sigyn: I mean, if the floor is made of stone, the walls are probably also made of stone.

I breathe out, move my fingertips along and yes, it’s a wall.

It’s an empty room, that’s all.

Sigyn: How do you know it’s empty? You can’t see anything.

I turn around and press my back to the wall, sliding down it, sinking slowly to the ground. I pull my knees up to my chest.

Cin: Yeah, that’s something you want to do when you’re not wearing underwear.

Something just moved. I heard it in the corner, something just moved!

Sigyn: So I guess it’s not an empty room after all.

I scramble to my feet.

‘Who’s there?’

No answer.

‘Don’t mess around with me!’ I hiss.

Silence. Nothing but silence and darkness

and my fear.

“I’m Scared!”: 21

‘Don’t excite yourself, Mudflower.’

A small red light shoots out from nowhere, up into the air and into what turns out to be a lantern in the middle of the ceiling, filling the small, stone room with a dull red light.

Sigyn: Every room we have seen has had different theme lighting, it’s weird.

And there he is, standing at the other side of the room with his wand raised and a smile on his face.

I suck in my breath. With that pale skin and that cruel smile and the red lighting, he almost looks like Voldemort.

Sigyn: ????? No?????

Averna: He will after I cut off his nose!

Sigyn: ok but he doesn’t now!

Although he’s smiling his eyes are flinty, stony and hard.

Get him talking; this silence is going to get you nowhere.

‘Why are we here?’

‘You will discover why, in good time.’ He runs his forefinger along his wand.

Piffy: oh thank goodness it’s not her face

‘Why don’t you try to exercise some patience? It’s such an attractive virtue, don’t you think?’

Sigyn: Voldemort, Our Lady of Eternal Patience, certainly seems to think so.

Piffy: >such an attractive virtue

Why doesn’t Hermione think, “Wow, this is getting increasingly creepy?”

I try to breathe deeply. ‘Where are we?’

Sigyn: Because she’s dumb as a doornail.

Cin: You didn’t notice it, either.

Sigyn: This isn’t about me, this is about her.

‘In the cellar of the house.’

‘What house? The house we arrived in… the other day?’

‘Hmm. The house we arrived in yesterday. It used to belong to my wife’s parents.

Sigyn: So the in-laws are just fine with you guys chilling at their taxidermy hut?

Bellatrix came into possession of the place at their deaths, as the eldest daughter, and she has kindly allowed us to stay here for the time being.’

Cin: … Bellatrix owns this house, and she doesn’t have an elf keeping the place tidied up? Where’s her sense of pride in her home? It may not be her primary residence, but still.

Piffy: Okay so after seven chapters of this fic I’ve gotten a little numb, but this makes me freshly angry. e_e Of course it’s Bellatrix, the most evilly violent one, who has a taxidermy collection. Everyone knows you have to be an over-the-top serial killer to enjoy vulture culture. We’re allll just little Jeffery Dahmer clones. Fuck off.

‘Why are we in the cellar?’ I ask, my head whining with panic.

He’s still smiling that sadistic smile. ‘I thought it might be interesting for us to spend some… time together.

Sigyn: UNF.

Piffy: *noises of squick*

When we are finished, you may return to your own room.’

‘Is… is Ron here, too? In the house, I mean,’ I add hurriedly.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Yes, he’s here.

Sigyn: You know what that comes off as? “ugh stop mentioning your stupid boyfriend you’re ruining the mood”

He arrived with Bella and Antonin about an hour after you did. He’s got his own room, just like you have, and because he came without a struggle I assume that he’s quite comfortable. So you needn’t worry yourself about him.’

I breathe a tiny sigh of relief.

Piffy: She still hasn’t noticed that this is creepy.

He flicks his wand at the ground, and a table and two chairs appear in the space between us. And there’s food laid out on that table – so much food that it makes me feel almost sick with hunger.

He smirks at the look on my face before he goes to sit in one of the chairs.

‘Would you care to eat with me, Miss Granger?’

I… what?

Is this a game, or something?

Sigyn: The first thing that came to mind for me was this:

His eyes narrow. ‘Sit. Down.’

I know I should do as he says. But I don’t want to sit down to eat with him either.

Piffy: OH MY GOSH.

In a few strides he’s got me by the arm and he twists it up, dragging me to my chair and forcing me down into it

Like Muggles Do: 64

before returning to his own.

‘That’s better.’ He returns to his chair and pours some wine out into two silver goblets, handing one goblet to me before raising his own.

‘To the Dark Lord.’

Cin: Oh, HELL no!

He raises his drink to his lips without taking his eyes away from my face.

I fling my own goblet across the room.

Cin: Correct. Full marks.

It hits the wall with a hollow ‘clunk’, and the blood-red liquid runs down the stone.

Sigyn: How do you know the liquid is red if the lighting is also red?

He doesn’t even flinch. He just smiles as he summons the goblet back to the table and fills it with wine once again.

Then he raises his wand at me.

‘Imperio!’

Cin: Are you serious?! You’re using the Imperius Curse for this? 

Ahh, that’s better. Nothing, nothingness, oh it’s so lovely and warm in nothingness.

‘Lift up the goblet.’

Do as it says, why should I doubt it?

‘Say the words…’

Why?

‘Say the words!’

But-

‘Say them!’

Oh, anything for you, anything. Just keep me here in this warmth, and I’ll do anything to please you.

‘To the Dark Lord.’

Sigyn: Yike on a trike. I know we’ve been going “blah blah Discount Nazi” all over the place, but let me just reiterate that basically a Wizard Nazi just forced a minority to toast to Wizard Hitler.

Cin: Also, it’s bothered me before, but this isn’t how the Imperius Curse works. When the veela had that kind of effect on Harry and when Fake!Moody cast it, Harry wasn’t like “oh I’ll do anything for you”, he was like, “oh this is a wonderful feeling, all my trouble has gone away”. It wasn’t so … I guess, personal, as obsessmuch is trying to make it here. Like he’s nonsexually fucking her into submission, if that makes sense.

‘Good. Now sip the wine.’

I’ll do anything and everything for you.

Just… keep me here… with you… don’t leave me…

Piffy: You don’t get cuddly with the Imperius Curse. *stubborn face*

The curse seeps away from me. I can taste the acidity of the wine on my tongue.

Cin: Ew, then it’s not very good wine. I’m disappointed. I thought Bellatrix, of all people, could afford better.

He’s smiling at me now. I’ve done what he wants, and he’s enjoying every last bit of watching me squirm.

‘Please,’ he gestures to the food in front of us, ‘eat.’

Although every instinct I have cries out for me to eat everything I can, I fight against it. I’m not going to play his sick little games with him.

Sigyn: Why the fuck not? You’re only hurting yourself. You need to keep yourself fed and watered. You need to take any physical advantage you can get. Being in poor health will only hinder you.

Piffy: Realmione might have read about refeeding syndrome. If Realmione was in this situation, she might think, “I want to eat everything in front of me because I’m hungry, but that’s a bad idea. I need to pace myself and try to get away with just eating a little without pissing him off…”

Sigyn: Yes. My problem with this scene is that she’s being pointlessly rebellious and hurting herself instead of, you know, helping herself.

I press my lips together and look down at my hands clasped tight in my lap.

‘Oh dear.’ He sighs heavily, exaggeratedly. ‘If there’s one thing I can’t stand in a Mudbat, it’s bad manners. Perhaps you need a little more… persuasion.’

‘No,’ I say hurriedly. ‘N-no, I’ll… I’ll eat.’

Cin: That sounds like she gets a little squicked out by the effect the Imperius Curse has on her, but not enough to consciously acknowledge it.

I spoon some food out onto my plate, eating quickly. I feel like I could eat and eat forever to make up for how little I’ve eaten since my capture.

He’s not eating anything. He’s just watching me.

I pause mid-chew, swallow, and lower my fork onto my plate.

‘Finished?’

Wordlessly, I nod.

He stands up and waves his wand. The table, the food, the wine and his chair all disappear, leaving only the chair I am sitting on.

He walks over to me, slowly, and he puts a hand on each of the arms of my chair. I lean back impulsively.

Sigyn: I think she means instinctively.

‘Did you enjoy your meal, Mudface?’

I stare right back at him, pressing my lips together.

I’m not afraid of you!

Liar.

“I’m Scared!”: 22

‘What are you doing?’ I don’t know what else to say.

Cin: How about, “Yes, thank you, it was delicious. May I be excused?”

He smirks at that and steps back, walking around me, behind my chair. I stay still, keeping my head faced forward.

‘That wasn’t an answer to my question, was it?’

His hand snakes up under my hair and brushes onto the back of my neck.

Sigyn: He called her the M-word like ten seconds ago so I don’t want to hit him with a Did You Forget, but don’t think that means I’m not noticing him being unnecessarily touchy-feely.

It’s… warm.

His fingers dig into the side of my neck and I turn my head involuntarily towards him as he crouches down next to me so that our eyes are level. He smiles at me still. ‘I want you to tell me whether you enjoyed your meal.’

‘Of course I did. I’m starving.’

‘Good. I shall be sure to let the house-elves know how much you enjoyed the meal they cooked for you.’

Desmoda: WELL-PLAYED! =D

I gulp down my exclamation of rage, but he can read my expression.

‘But you should be pleased, Miss Granger. The house-elves were happy to cook for us. You see, they know their place.’ A hard, cold look creeps into his eyes. ‘The question remains, why don’t you know yours? You have more intelligence than an elf, surely.’

Cin: At this point, I’d say that depends on the elf.

Sigyn: Wait so there are elves, as in more than one elf, preparing food in this house, but it’s still all dusty and ooky? Why? If it’s elves’ pleasure to serve humans, which JKR established, then why wouldn’t they go out of their way to maintain the place?

Oh. So this is why he’s brought me here.

‘I think it’s time that you learned more of your station, since you seem to be so reluctant to accept it.’

He removes his hand from my neck. ‘Stand up.’

I do as he says, and he flicks his wand at the chair I was sitting on. It disappears into the ground.

‘I want you to answer some questions for me.’

Sigyn: You mean, other than “How was your meal?”

He smiles at the look on my face. ‘Oh, don’t worry. They’re quite different to the questions I have asked you so far. These questions are of a far more subtle nature, but no less important, I think.’

I take a deep breath, feeling my nerves knot.

‘Who are your parents, Miss Granger?’

What?

Cinmione: “My parents are Mr. and Mrs. Granger.”

I just stare at him. ‘Do you really think that I’m going to lead you right to them?’

He rolls his eyes. ‘Use your brain for once, Mudangel. If we had any need of your parents, do you really think that we wouldn’t have got hold of them by now? Their names and their address did come up while we were tracking you down.’

Sigyn: I mean, obviously. He mentioned the phone book before.

Breathe, Hermione.

‘If you already know everything there is to know about my parents, then why do you need me to name them for you?’

He twirls his wand leisurely between his fingers,

Sigyn: “Leisurely” is an adjective, not an adverb

his eyes not leaving my face. ‘I don’t believe that was the answer to the question I asked. I repeat, who are your parents?’

‘David and Jane Granger.’

A sharp slap stings my cheek.

‘Wrong answer. Again, who are your parents?’

Cin: Bzuh? No, that was the correct answer.

What does he want from me? What the hell does he want?

‘I’ve told you, David and Ja-‘

That sharp sting hits my cheek again.

‘Oh dear. And there was I, believing you to be reasonably intelligent. Shall I make it easier for you to understand what I’m asking you for? Who are you?’

‘Hermione Granger.’

He sighs in pure exasperation. ‘Muggles have no sense of subtlety. You leave me no choice but to make my meaning plain. What are you?’

Sigyn: 

The seed of understanding is planted in my mind.

I straighten myself up, lifting myself from the head downwards.

‘A witch.’

Wrong answer.

Cin: No, that was also correct. Just because you disagree doesn’t mean she’s wrong.

He smiles and flicks his wand at me, and a tongue of flame licks up my back – a scorching, white-hot mercury flame.

‘Allow me to educate you, Miss Granger.

Sigyn: ugh great more mansplaining.

You see before you a wizard; one whose power was handed down to him by blood. You, you are a Muggle, a Muggle that has been given a wand.

Sigyn: That reminds me of when I was at a Celtic faire …was it a year or two ago? There was a vendor who gave away polymer wands for free after a certain time because they hadn’t sold them all and didn’t want to take the rest home with them.

There is a world of difference between the two of us, Mudpatch, and so I would ask you not to put us in the same category.

Cin: Well, she’s not. She’s a witch, and you are a wizard. They go to different dorms and everything.

I repeat, what are you?’

I need to be strong.

‘A witch.’

Cin: CORRECT! =D

He doesn’t curse me, like I expect him to. He just looks at me.

‘Did you wonder why I got you to wear those robes?’

Piffy: No! Somehow she hasn’t!

He waves his wand, and a huge, full length, ornate mirror appears on the wall in front of me.

‘Look at yourself.’

Look at yourself… hardly a beauty, are you?

Sigyn: ugh why do you CARE if he thinks you’re pretty and why is that a thing you’re having flashbacks to? This is stupid.

Those words are going to be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.

Sigyn: WHY, THOUGH?

Our two reflections look back at us from the mirror. His sneering and cold.

Sigyn: Fun Fact! I did a CTRL + F for “cold” to find more places to put this Vexen react, and the word is used 9 times within obsessmuch’s prose.

Mine pale and terrified.

“I’m Scared!”: 23

He drops his eyes from the mirror and takes hold of my hand. I jolt, and he smirks as he brings my hand up and examines the burns and bruises on it.

‘You irritate me, Mudrash. To tell the truth, I’ve never come across someone so infuriating.

Illybrius: Haven’t you? Haven’t you really? Not even your sister-in-law?

I had hoped to be finished with you as soon as possible, but fate has proved… cruel, wouldn’t you agree?’

I don’t answer him.

He rubs his thumb over the pink, shiny burn scar in the middle of my hand, and then his fingers move up over my wrist, and then there’s the barrier of fabric between us

Sigyn: This is not the time nor place for the phrase “the barrier of fabric between us”.

as he moves them over the dress sleeve, up my arm and eventually onto my bare shoulder, grazing bare skin with his fingers.

‘It’s a beautiful dress, isn’t it?’

Cin: Yes, sir, would YOU like to wear it? 🙂

His voice is quiet, too quiet, and he stands behind me, looking intently at the reflection in the mirror again, his fingers resting lightly on my bare shoulder.

He twists his other arm around me and makes a swift tearing motion down the middle of my body with his wand.

I look down.

My dress is torn clean in half.

‘What are you doing?‘

Sigyn: He’s destroying the pretty clothes he gave you, for no apparent reason. Gee, I hope those weren’t Bellatrix’s robes. I mean, they don’t fit with her usual aesthetic, but still.

Cin: If they weren’t Bella’s robes, they were probably Narcissa’s. He just dressed her up as his wife.

Sigyn: Or possibly his late mother-in-law.

Cin: Either way, this is … gross.

I pull the two sheets of material close around me, but his hand knots itself into my hair and twists, and he wrenches me upwards before grabbing at my arms and pinning them behind my back.

No no no no NO!

‘Stop it, please, stop it-‘

‘Shut up, Mudbee. Your incessant whining really does grate after a while.’

Sigyn: M O O D

He pulls the dress off of me, and he pins my arms behind my back again so I can’t keep hidden, not at all.

Sigyn: So let me get this straight. He dressed you up in another witch’s pretty clothes so he could rip them off you, and now he’s holding you in such a way that he’s entirely able to see your body? Oh and he neglected to provide you with underthings? Yeah, this reads like a sex game to me. Rather, it reads like he got bored of physical torture and moved onto psychological torture via sexual assault.

He holds up the beautiful fabric in front of me.

‘These are robes made for a witch.’

Cin: Yeah and she’s gonna be pissed that you destroyed them.

His voice pulls tears up to my eyes. ‘You are a Muggle. You’re lower than a house-elf. You are not worthy to wear such clothes.’

Cin: Then why did you give them to her? I know Sigyn explained it, but this is stupid.

He throws the bundle of green across the room, then he throws me on the ground.

Desmoda: So this is where they fuck, right?

Sigyn: Nope.

Desmoda: After all that setup?

I cower, curling myself up into a ball. I want to go home, I want my mum and dad, I want to be left alone.

Sigyn: She should be furious right now, not cowering like “i want my mommy 😦 “

He crouches down next to me and rolls me viciously onto my back, pinning my arms to the ground.

Sigyn: So he can continue to view your full-frontal naked body. Just making sure nobody misses that. Also note how he’s physically manhandling her, again, instead of acting like a fucking wizard and using his wand.

Like Muggles Do: 66

One for this and one for earlier when he pinned her.

‘Please, don’t-‘

He slaps me across the face.

Like Muggles Do: 67

‘You will speak when spoken to.’ He points his wand into my face. ‘What are you?‘

I don’t answer. I’m so terrified that I can’t speak, anyway.

“I’m Scared!”: 24

He snarls as I press my lips together and he slaps me across the face once again,

Like Muggles Do: 68

before he gets up thank god, thank god,

and points his wand at the floor, where a small pile of brown material appears.

‘Get up and get dressed.’

I wrench myself up and I grab what turns out to be a plain brown robe, which I quickly put on.

Cin: Well, you did say earlier that you wanted to wear something else XD

‘Get up!’

I pull myself hastily to my feet at his command, looking down at my feet.

Hate hate hate.

‘You shall find similar garments in your wardrobe.’

Cin: Yep, way ahead of you.

He grips at my chin, wrenching my head up.

Like Muggles Do: 69

Sigyn: nice

Cin: D= 

‘You will dress according to your station, do you understand?’

Cin: Or she could just prance around naked, since you seem to like it so much, you creep.

I don’t answer, because I know that if I do my voice will crack and I won’t give him that satisfaction.

Hate, hate, hate.

His fingers dig in under my chin, pulling me closer to him.

Like Muggles Do: 70

‘I said, do you understand?’

‘Yes.’ I feel my face collapse into tears as I answer.

Piffy: That’s not how faces work!

 Hate hate hate hate hate.

Averna: No, no, do it like this: “‘Yes,’ I said, in the exact same tone I’d use for fuck you“

Cin: but what if he does though

Averna: I will burn that possibility when we get to it

He smiles and releases me. ‘Good.’

He waves his wand at the mirror, which disappears into the floor.

Sigyn: It really bugs me that he only seems to remember he’s a wizard when it doesn’t involve manhandling her.

I press my lips together and try not make a single sound.

‘I ask you again, what are you?’

Hate.

Hate.

HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE!

Sigyn:

‘I’ll tell you what you are! An evil, twisted bastard!’ I scream.

Cin: Correct. At least she’s stopped questioning it.

His face twists.

Romain: People’s faces getting jiggy with it today.

I lift up into the air and I fly backwards, slamming into the wall behind me. Pain shoots through me, crushing all of my back, and I fall to the floor, gasping in agony.

‘Dear me, Mudparty, I thought I knew you better. It saddens me to admit it, but I thought you might have a bit of common courtesy.’

I can’t believe he just said that.

Sigyn: Yeah, me neither. I recognize that He’s Fucking Evil, but I’m not adding a count for this because this is absurd.

‘Was I not kind enough to give you a wonderful meal?’ he goes on, ignoring my glare of absolute loathing. ‘We ate together in a civilized manner, didn’t we? I thought you might be exercising some compliance, or at least some good manners.’

Cin: Please stop jerking yourself off in front of the prisoner. It’s unseemly.

He points his wand at me.

‘It was food you didn’t deserve. It was too good for the likes of you. And seeing as you aren’t even grateful for it, I don’t see why you should have eaten it in the first place.’

He steps back from me, and a jet of orange light hits me in the stomach…

And my gut is spinning and squelching. I fall to the ground as acid burns up through my chest and out of my contracting throat and I can’t do anything to stop it.

I throw up all of my dinner.

Cin: Gross, but points for originality and effective psychological torture that isn’t sexual.

I crouch on the floor, heaving deep breaths once I’ve finished. He points his wand at the vomit, which vanishes like it was never there.

He conjures up a glass of water in his free hand, which he holds out to me.

‘Unlike you, Mudbreath, I am not without courtesy. Drink this.’

Piffy: Did he just forget the part where he did something Very Rude in the middle of all that?

Cin: He’s done a lot of rude things in this scene.

I want to throw it back in his horrible, smug face, but I don’t. I drink it down, and when I’ve finished the glass disappears from my hand.

‘Stand up.’

I do as he says, shakily getting to my feet and looking him in the eye with as much dignity as I can muster.

‘What are you?’

Oh, for god’s sake, is it really worth it? What’s the point? This could go on forever, if I don’t give him what he wants.

Then let it go on forever. You promised; you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t let him win.

Sigyn: Still not an internal motivation. Hey, how come she can do what her old cell wall told her to do, but she couldn’t do what Ron told her to do?

I gather up whatever pride I have left and I answer him.

‘You’re very slow, Lucius Malfoy.’ I breathe a laugh. ‘Just like your son.’

Sigyn: *cackles* Okay, this is Spunky Agency, but I can’t deny that I’ve used the same sort of line before.

A muscle goes in his jaw at that, but I don’t stop.

‘I am a witch, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change it.’

Cin: I like that she’s sticking to her guns.

There’s a long silence while he just looks at me. Then he conjures up a knife out of thin air, catching it by the handle.

‘Ah, such a dangerous instrument in the wrong hands.’ He looks up and smiles, shark-like. ‘But then, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?’

Yes. Yes, I would. And I wish, more than anything, that I’d driven that knife into his neck rather than his arm.

Sigyn: Same.

His arm. What was I thinking?

Cin: Bold of you to imply you were thinking.

Averna: I’d be thinking about the brachial artery, but she clearly missed that.

He steps towards me. ‘You’re a witch, you say. Tell me, would you give your life for that idea?’

‘Of course.’ I say, my breathing very tight in my chest.

‘Of course.’ His voice is so low, too low. He lifts up the knife, and presses the blade to my cheek. ‘Any witch would do the same thing – you won’t be the last, and you’re certainly not the first.

Sigyn: He just acknowledged that she’s a witch.

Averna: HA!

But then, as a Muggle-born you would know that better than most, wouldn’t you?’

I frown at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

His smile flickers. ‘I am talking about the persecution that my ancestors suffered at the hands of yours.

Sigyn: Excuse me?

I’ll say one thing for Muggles – stupid they may be, but they were certainly inventive when it came to the delicate art of murder. They had quite a selection of torturous methods which they could use to dispose of witches and wizards.

Cin: Gee, that must have been in a different version of whichever one of Harry’s textbooks we got a peek at in Book 3. I know revisionist history is a real phenomenon, but this is really bad, like “I’m allowed to commit hate crimes against you because YOUR ANCESTORS committed hate crimes against MY ANCESTORS.”

I imagine it was quite a game for them – which technique should they choose this time? Drowning, or strangulation? The noose, or the fire?’

Cin: Also, didn’t the real witches and wizards just… use charms that rendered those methods harmless, per Book 3? It was only the Muggles who suffered. And Hermione would know this.

I swallow. ‘They were different times. I can’t be blamed for what my ancestors may have done to yours in their ignorance-‘

‘That’s neither here nor there,’ he snaps, his smile disappearing. ‘The fact remains that, in their stupidity and ignorance and pride, Muggles such as your filthy parents sent thousands of witches and wizards to an agonizing death.

Cin: NO. THEY DID NOT. GO BACK AND READ PRISONER OF AZKABAN, OBSESSMUCH.

And you then have the nerve to pollute our society with your offspring a few generations down the line! Tell me – do you know how long it takes to burn to death? Have you ever smelt burning flesh?’

My mouth is numb and dry.

‘They thought they were saving them,’ I say eventually. ‘They were uninformed back then – they didn’t know any better. Their religion told them that the only way to save the soul of a witch was to burn them alive, and yes, they were wrong, but they genuinely believed it-‘

Sigyn: WOULD YOU STOP WITH THE RELIGIOUS CONFLICT BULLSHIT? THIS WAS NOT A THING IN CANON.

‘Oh, and I’m sure their victims were so grateful for that as their legs burned away underneath them,’ he drawls in vicious triumph.

Cin: That’s not what happened. Remember Wendolyn the Weird?

Piffy: I firmly believe that British wizards are so insular that they don’t know jack shit about Muggle history and don’t really care unless it’s something they can spin to fit their narrative–either “Muggles would kill us all if they knew” or “dohohoho Muggles are so stupid that when they tried to kill us they ended up only killing each other”. No-one burned in the Salem witch trials. Nineteen people were hanged, and Giles Corey was pressed to death by Sherrif George Corwin while refusing to submit himself to trial. I find JKR’s choice to turn real people’s awful deaths into Fun Facts for her character’s history classes distasteful.

Sigyn: True, But Canon. Also, I find Lucius bringing all this up in the first place to be distasteful.

‘I’m sure they thought only of their murderer’s good intentions as they begged their families to pile tinder on their pyres so that they might die quicker.’

I glare at him, hating him. ‘Don’t you dare use real human suffering as a cheap way to prove a point to me-‘

Cin: IT WAS ONLY THE MUGGLES WHO SUFFERED IN JKR’S BIZARRO CANON

‘I’ll do whatever I like.

I’m sure they wouldn’t blame me. It wasn’t my ancestors that murdered them, was it?’

I take a second to get my breath back. My heartbeat is roaring in my ears. ‘What do you want from me? Do you want me to burn alive too, so that I can prove my self-belief to you?’

Piffy: I mean, he did already burn you.

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Would you do it?’

For a moment, I’m speechless with utter disbelief.

He smiles. ‘Well, perhaps the burning example is a little extreme.’

Piffy: More weight.

He runs the blade of the knife slowly down my cheek. The pressure is light on my skin; not strong enough to cut or even to hurt, but calculated just to tingle as it skims over my skin. Almost not touching. Almost.

Cin: This sounds like more of his humiliation kink @ her.

Sigyn: Fifty Shades of Malfoy~

‘But would you be willing to die for the absurd notion that you might be a witch? If it were to be a painless death, would you do it? To die for one’s belief – the ultimate act of nobility. Every Gryffindor’s fantasy, I imagine.’

Sigyn: Here’s an idea. Give her a wand, do the burny thing, and then see if she can cast that spell that made the flames all tickly. Of course, she might blast this house to pieces and incapacitate you, but hey.

I don’t answer him, because he doesn’t expect me to

Sigyn: That’s a dumb reason not to answer him

and because my breath is caught in my throat and I don’t know whether I could even if I tried.

I feel the blade run down over my neck.

‘Do you not fear death then, Mudwhistle?’

I swallow sharply. The knife shakes over the furious slamming of my pulse.

‘Everyone dies.’ My voice wavers in the air with absolutely no certainty at all.

Piffy: I like that she finally grew a spine, but it has less impact after she crumpled like an accordion and gave them all of the information that they wanted.

‘Indeed.’ He’s smirking at me. ‘Who knows that better than I? I have been willing to give my life for what I believe in since I was old enough to talk.

Sigyn: Honey, being indoctrinated isn’t something to be proud of.

But I wonder – are you really prepared to do the same? Or is it really you who is the coward here?’

Sigyn: Not adding a count for that one.

He curls his fingers around my wrist, bringing it up between us. He takes the knife away from my chest, trapping it between his thumb and his palm as he runs his fingers over my hand, trailing them delicately over my skin, the burn scar, and the bruises around my fingers.

Averna: Can the Discount Nazi please stop molesting the seventeen-year-old at knifepoint?

Sigyn: O_O

Averna: Don’t look so surprised. I have standards. I’m not a Nazi, discount or otherwise, and I only molest grown men at knifepoint.

Sigyn: Technically she’s an adult in the Wizarding world.

Averna: Technically my kid is an adult here at 19.

‘This poor little hand has been through so much since we first met,’ he murmurs. ‘It almost breaks my heart to cause it yet more harm. But you will insist on pushing me too far.’

Sigyn:

I realize too late what he’s going to do as he presses the knife vertically against my wrist, tearing the skin, and blood spills out of the wound and down my wrists. He draws the blade down the delicate blue vein, and it hurts, like nothing on earth it hurts,

Cin: Really?! Like nothing on earth? Even compared to the other tortures you’ve– you know what I don’t know why I expect her to not factory reset after every torture session.

and there’s blood, too much blood, too much-

It runs red and warm over my wrists. Perhaps I could… yes, press down on the wound, grip at it, stop the blood, the endless blood.

‘What do you want? What do you WANT from me?‘

Averna: You’re supposed to be a smart girl. Make some educated guesses.

‘I want you to admit what you are,’ he drawls, not caring. I could die and he wouldn’t care.

They’re Fucking Evil!: 34

Sigyn: He also proved otherwise when he saved your life during that little boating trip.

Say it, you know what he wants, just say it-

I WON’T say it!

‘I’m a witch!’

Cin: A+! I will stan this particular instance of Spunky Agency.

Averna: *raises her Shirley Temple* To dignity!

Cin and Sigyn: *clink fizzy waters with Averna’s Shirley Temple*

He wrenches my other hand towards him, drawing the blade down the other vein, digging deep this time, ripping into flesh, gouging into it.

Hurts doesn’t describe this. They’d need a whole new dictionary to describe this.

Sigyn: …no.

‘You’ll die unless you admit it. And despite your protestations, I don’t believe you’re quite willing to go that far. So admit it. Tell me what you are.’

I don’t want to die.

That thought pierces me through everything else. I don’t want to die. I know they’ll kill me in the end, but while I’m alive I’ve still got hope. And that is worth everything.

Averna: You know what’s worth more than hope? A plan.

Cin: A good plan. A viable plan.

Averna: A vicious plan.

‘I’m a Mudblood.’ I whimper the words out, holding my wrists together to stop the blood flow.

Cin: Oh… oh no. You were so close. (Note: We’re not changing that instance because she’s the one saying it about herself, even if it is under duress.)

He smiles widely at that, and prizes my arms apart so that the blood runs free down my arms.

Like Muggles Do: 71

‘And what else, Miss Granger, what else?’

I’ve got to go further. Give him what he wants. What else does he call me?

‘A throwback. A freak. A Muggle masquerading as a witch.’

Sigyn: I mean… She held out longer than usual? That’s something?

He smiles all the wider, and he picks up each of my wrists and oh my god,

even to move them feels like hell itself-

Sigyn: I realize this particular reaction pic is in bad taste considering her wrists are slit, but I’m past caring.

But then that wonderful, warm golden glow of healing beams from his wand to my wrist, and the blood-flow… stops.

But the scars remain. Thick, pink scars run down my veins.

‘I think we’ll leave those.’ He runs his finger lightly along one of the scars before he drops my hand. ‘A nice little reminder for you should you ever forget your place again.’

Bastard. What are people going to think when they see these scars?

Cin: They’re going to think you cut yourself.

Averna: A scar just means something failed to kill you.

He’s looking deep into my eyes. The invisible hand of legimilency

Cin: LOLwut

Sigyn: LE 👏 GI 👏 LI 👏 MEN 👏 CY 👏. This is not difficult.

probes around in my mind again very briefly before it withdraws.

Sigyn: Aww, she forgot to blink real fast 😦 

Piffy: I know I’ve said this before, but it really irritates me that obsessmuch gave Lucius mind-reading. Sure, in a fic where Hermione was capable of overcoming a wet paper bag, “captor can read minds” could be an interesting obstacle to add tension, but this isn’t that fic. This is Eden, and it’s just a handwavey shortcut for giving Lucius more ammo for psychological abuse.

Sigyn: What bothers me about it is that it’s blatant metagaming. obsessmuch wants Lucius to know what Hermione is thinking but can’t bother to make him good at reading body language or facial expressions, so she just… yeah, handwavey shortcut. The abuse aspect doesn’t bother me as much as the sheer laziness of it.

Piffy: To clarify, it’s not that he’s using it for abuse in itself, it’s that abuse is an insufficiently compelling reason to use such a cheap handwave in a fic that’s already 90% abuse

Sigyn: True! Also, he was already correctly guessing what would cause her to doubt herself before the ZOMG LEGILIMENCY reveal, or at least, she was giving him credit for doing so when he was just using standard interrogation tactics, so it just feels extra-cheap and lazy now.

‘Did I hear that correctly?’ He smiles then, a smile that doesn’t reach those icy cold eyes. ‘Who, exactly, do you think is going to see your scars? You’re never going to get out of here.’

Sigyn: oh and he ONLY DOES IT when obsessmuch wants him to know her exact thoughts and feelings, so she can’t just think “funky chicken dance funky chicken dance macarena” and throw him off!

Piffy: Yeah!

That smile leaves his face and he wrenches me close to him suddenly by the hair,

Like Muggles Do: 72

locking his eyes onto mine, and too close, far too close.

Cin: NOW she has a problem with his lack of personal boundaries?!

‘You’re going to die here, don’t you understand?’

Sigyn: Well, after declaring that, you might as well just kill her now!

Piffy: This isn’t even the first time Fakemione’s been told this.

I feel myself rip in half down the middle and fuck it; I just want it all to be over!

Sigyn: and yet this is when she chooses to crack

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ I grab the hand holding the knife and wrench it down to my chest. ‘Why don’t you just kill me, right here, right now? That’s what you want, isn’t it?’

Cin: omg finally.

Averna: Forty-two more chapters of this.

Cin: … Dammit.

His eyes flash then before he wrenches the blade away from my skin.

‘Tempting though that idea is, I’m afraid I cannot pursue it. I’m… we’re not finished with you yet. We have plans for you.’

Cin: ok but

‘You should be careful,’ he says quietly, his breathing fast, ‘or one day you’ll push me too far and I really will murder you.’ – Lucius Malfoy, literally the previous chapter.

‘What plans?’ I push down the panic that fills my chest. ‘What else could you need me for?’

‘That’s not yet your concern.’ He flicks his wand at the knife in his hand and it disappears into thin air. ‘Now, to get back to the matter in hand, tell me who your parents are.’

‘David and Jane Granger.’

Cin: *bursts out laughing and clapping* 

Sigyn: So you’ll call yourself a Mudstuff and a Muggle with delusions of witchery, but you won’t say your parents are Muggles even though your parents literally are Muggles and you’re actually a witch? What the actual factual?

‘No!‘ He shouts out his reply before slapping me across the face.

Like Muggles Do: 73

Hard.

Cin: Well, yeah. You only slap someone gently in bed.

My head snaps to the side and I cling to my cheek, gulping down the traitorous tears that are burning under my eyelids.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ I ask quietly,

They’re Fucking Evil!: 35

looking back up into a face that’s carved of ice.

‘I believe you know why,’ he drawls. ‘Did you really think that I was going to let you get away with your behavior yesterday evening?’

Anger hits me so hard I think I’m going to be sick again.

‘Do you think that what I did even compares to what you’ve put me through? Do you? I’d be ecstatic if one stab wound was all you’d done to me since I came here.’

Sigyn: No, you wouldn’t. You’d whine about being stabbed and wonder why he’s so mean to you.

‘It’s not the wound that bothers me.’ His face is set hard in anger. ‘I’ve endured far worse.’

I almost want to smile. Almost. He can pretend all he likes, but I saw the look of pain on his face as the knife plunged into his arm.

Cin: Well, yes. Being stabbed is painful. But he’s saying that the fact that he was stabbed doesn’t bother him as much as the principle of the thing, that is, a Muggleborn attacking him.

‘No, it was the sheer audacity of it,’ he continues, his voice rising. ‘A Muggle committing violence against me! And it wasn’t the first time, either. Remember when you slapped my face, back in your cell? What right have you to raise a hand to me?’

Sigmione: “My apologies, sir, I was trying to turn you on~”

Cin:

‘WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU TO DO IT TO ME?’ I’m blazing on now. I just don’t care anymore. I’ve passed that point.

Sigyn: This isn’t the first time in this chapter you’ve been past caring, so…

Sigyn: Sorry, Epi  

‘And Ron, what about him? He’s pure-blood; I would have thought that would mean something to you. You said once that you reserved torture for Muggle-borns, so why did you have to hurt him?’

Cin: Obviously, he lied to you about that. Also, he thinks he has the right to hit you because power imbalance – he is your captor and you are his prisoner. Duh.

Averna: Should Hermione already know from canon that Discount Hitler tortures the Discount Nazis for so much as sneezing around him? I don’t remember if it came up in Harry’s scar dreams or if that was only in scenes outside of Harry’s POV.

Sigyn: I can’t remember if Harry discussed this with her onscreen, but even so, she should at least suspect it. They’re not nice people.

They’re Fucking Evil!: 38

One for each dumbass sentence from Akumione.

He opens his mouth to answer, and I can see words forming on his lips before he stops himself. He takes a deep breath before he eventually answers me.

‘The boy comes from a family of blood traitors. Besides, his unspeakable stupidity irritates me beyond belief.’

Sigyn: Does it? Because he’s a HELL of a lot smarter than Akumione.

Piffy: I really hate that the main thing so many people take away from the series about Ron is that he’s stupid. He’s not. The topics that engage him just don’t align with wizardly schoolwork. Guy should be playing chess competitively and devouring Muggle puzzle books.

He strokes the tips of his fingers lightly down my cheek, a mocking smile playing about his lips. ‘I really don’t know what you see in him. You’re an intelligent girl.

Cin: Is she, though? Is she really?

Why you would want to waste yourself on that boy, I’ll never know.’

Sigyn: This reads like he’s hitting on her. It’s probably intentional, but still.

Cin: If I may bring this back…

That’s it. I snap.

‘So who would you suggest I ‘waste myself’ on then? Someone like you, is that what you’re getting at?’

Sigyn: MOOD. No, really. Once, Meta’s dad was like, “Stop trying to hold back this young man who’s only starting out in life,” and I was sorely tempted to respond along the lines of, “You’re right, I should be going for older, more experienced men. Tell me… Are you available? 😉 ” Unfortunately, I didn’t (although if I’d known he was going to be a dick to me regardless, I would have).

His hand drops abruptly from my face and I clamp my mouth shut before I can say any more.

What did I say that for?

Sigyn: Because that’s where the conversation was headed.

The look on his face terrifies me half to death.

“I’m Scared!”: 25

It’s pure and utter rage, unlike anything I’ve ever seen on him before.

Sigyn: … Including that time you stabbed him?

Epiphany: [Did you know that the three-second memory myth has no basis in fact, and goldfish have good enough memories to recognize who feeds them and learn tricks?]

I start to babble, frantically trying to undo the damage I have done. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-‘

Sigyn: NO STOP BACKPEDALING THAT WAS GREAT YOU WERE DOING GREAT

His fingers press onto my lips, stopping my words dead.

Like Muggles Do: 74

Averna: Bite! Him! Bite! Him!

He’s smiling now. Just smiling a small smile, his eyebrows lowered in an expression that’s just as dangerous as his rage.

‘Be quiet,’ he murmurs as he lowers his fingers from my lips and circles his other hand around my waist. ‘Be quiet, my little Mudpony. Now-‘

Sigyn: “Your”? She’s not “your” anything, well, except your prisoner. But still, what the fuck?

He pulls me closer to him in one sharp movement.

Like Muggles Do: 75

No-

I turn to get away from him but he holds on to me, pushing me backwards into the wall before I even have time to breathe.

I’m trapped between him and the cold stone.

Between a rock and a hard place…

Cin: He’s got a rageboner! XD

That would have made me laugh, once.

He looks down at me with that dangerous, languid look on his face, but there’s something cold and hard in his eyes,

Piffy: … One of these adjectives is not like the others. One of these adjectives doesn’t belong.

and I don’t like it, I don’t.

Sigyn: You don’t like anything in this fic, Akumione, shut up.

‘Please, I’m sorry-‘

‘Shh.’ He places his free hand lightly on my cheek, pushing his fingers back into my hair.

‘Now, as to what you were saying before…’

His voice is low, far too low. He pulls my hips up to meet his, and my insides lock as his fingers entwine in my hair, far too close, and oh god,

Sigyn: I like that he’s actually calling her bluff on this!

what have I done, where’s this going to lead? I thought that I was safe from this, at least.

Cin: WHY? What on earth made you think that after he’s stripped you naked and ogled you at least twice? (yes i remember that technically Bellatrix ordered her stripped and Dolohov did the actual stripping the first time BUT I DON’T CAAAARE)

But did you, really?

I… I don’t know.

His fingers push further into my hair. My hands, balled up into fists, are pressed to his chest. I see nothing except his face, his pale, aristocratic face, his smirking mouth and his cold grey eyes under lowered eyelids.

And he’s moving his face closer to mine, closer, and I can’t breathe…

Can’t think…

Just… close my eyes…

Sigyn: Ngl I legit got turned on reading that, both times around.

Then his fingers tighten on my hair and wrench my head sideways, pulling it back and slamming it into the wall.

Drepanon: *scribbles notes furiously*

Sigyn: … um, no.

Like Muggles Do: 76

Granted, I’m hitting him with that mostly out of spite because the manhandling has been a constant fucking theme, but still, it’s the principle of the thing.

My head smashes, breaks into a million pieces and shit, FUCK, it hurts so badly I can’t think, ow ow ohmyfuckinggod

ow!

He is relentless. He doesn’t release my head from the wall as he whispers furiously in my ear.

‘How dare you suggest that I would even contemplate such a thing?

Sigyn: Oh, come on, we all know what kind of fic this is. And not just because I’ve read ahead.

Cin: he brought that on himself.

Do you really think that I’d dirty my hands on any Mudbeer, let alone you… you!

Sigyn: Yes? You’ve been constantly stroking and groping her, and you just ripped her clothes off and pinned her down so she couldn’t hide her body from you, so … yeah, I think that’s a pretty valid assumption.

Good god,

just look at yourself! I’d sooner throw myself off a cliff than touch filth like you.

Cin: Good, could you please do that sooner rather than later?

Averna: I volunteer to help.

Do you understand me?’

I whimper, tears of pain, rage and humiliation flipping out of my eyes, and I can barely speak for pain, let alone answer him. He presses himself closer to me,

Sigyn: And yet he doesn’t want to dirty himself on her.

his grip on my hair tightening, pulling a small cry from my throat.

‘I said, do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ I whisper, and my complete and utter humiliation is now complete.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye, and for a moment he looks as if he’s going to hit me again, but instead he releases me, stepping back from my body and removing his hand from my hair. I slide down to the floor, completely lost in my own mortification.

Sigyn: You’ve probably noticed that I’m not ripping on her for her response to this. That is because her response is realistic and this aspect of the situation is genuinely heartbreaking, at least for me personally. Excuse me while I grab some cookie dough out of the fridge and completely fuck up my blood sugar.

He turns away from me, running a hand over the back of his head and I can’t see his face, his expression.

Sigyn: *pauses on her way to the fridge* … A brief, shining moment, and then that. Hermione, sweetheart, he just blatantly hit on you and then slammed your head into the wall and insulted you when you took him up on it. You should not CARE what his face looks like, nor what expression it has. All you should be thinking about is holing up in your room and avoiding him as much as humanly possible for the foreseeable future and how you never want to see him again because that was horrifying and degrading as fuck and I know she’s been through worse in this fic but that hit one of my own personal hurtbuttons and I just

But when he turns back to face me his expression gives nothing away and his voice is cool and clipped again.

‘Now, let us return to the subject at hand, shall we.’

Sigyn: GO TAKE A FLYING FUCK AT A ROLLING DOUGHNUT WITH A CACTUS UP YOUR ASS!

*runs off to the fridge*

---

‘Who are you?’ he asks, hours and hours later.

‘A Mudblood.’ My voice is robotic. ‘A throwback. A freak. A Muggle masquerading as a Witch.’

‘Who are your parents?’

‘Filthy Muggles.’ Tears come to my eyes as my lips work around the words, but I won’t let those tears fall in front of him.

Cin: Really? I thought they were clean and well-kept Muggles.

‘Who is your master?’

‘Voldemort.’

Cin: Excuse me? Since when the fuck would Voldemort want a Mudkip’s service?

He can go to hell if he thinks I’ll cry in front of him ever, ever again.

Sigyn: *from the kitchen* HE CAN GO TO HELL ANYWAY! FUCK HIS EXISTENCE!

‘I’m sorry?’

I take a deep breath, and my ribs twinge as a reminder of another little trick he pulled to make me accept this.

‘The Dark Lord.’

‘Who should you obey?’

Cin: It’s “whom”.

‘My betters.’ My tears harden and coil up inside me, and I’ll never let him see them again, never.

‘And who are your betters?’

This is it. Just a few more words and it will all be over. ‘Those of pure blood.’

It’s over. It’s taken forever, but it’s finally over.

He’s smiling. I think it might be one of the few genuine smiles I’ve seen on the bastard’s face. ‘I knew that your will could be broken.’

Cin: It actually took a while this time, which… is surprising! I’ll give her a little bit of credit for that. A little, tiny bit. Like 3 cents of credit.

His voice is soft. ‘And it seems that I was right, wasn’t I?’

I feel dead.

Dear God,

let me see Lucius Malfoy suffer. Let me see him cry and scream and beg for mercy…

Averna: No! Fuck this passive shit! Repeat after me: “I will make Lucius Malfoy suffer. I will make him cry and scream and beg for mercy.”

‘Aren’t you going to answer me, Mudlens?’ he drawls. ‘Was I right? Has your will been broken?’

I answer through clenched teeth. ‘Yes.’

Let me see him die…

Averna: No. It’s “I will kill him.” Get it right.

Cin: *nods aggressively*

He smiles all the wider, feeding off of my hate and shame. ‘Good.’

He steps back from me and points his wand at the floor, conjuring up a bowl of soup, a chunk of bread, and a goblet of water.

‘Please, help yourself. You must be hungry.’

Go to hell.

Cin: Send him there yourself, lazy.

Hell’s too good for him. It’d probably spit him back out if he got there.

Sigyn: *returns with a freshly-mixed batch of cookie dough and a wooden spoon* Reminds me of one of Emiya’s good lines from Fate/Stay Night:

‘And when you have finished, you can go to sleep. I think it might do you some good to stay here for a while. I’m not quite finished with you yet. I want to make sure that the message really sinks in.’

Cin: *in a bored voice* Then you should borrow Umbridge’s quill.

So it’s not over. It will never, ever be over.

Cin: ~you’re here until you die~

Averna: I keep telling myself there’s only fifty chapters.

Sigyn: And thanks to CoronaCon 2020, we might even get them done before we turn 40!

He runs a finger down my cheek. I flinch away from him. He smirks.

‘I regret that I cannot stay here with you for now, but I have some important business to attend to. In the meantime, I wish you pleasant dreams.’

Sigyn: Die in a fire, you son of a glitter-shitting ass clown.

He reaches into his robes and pulls out a tiny key.

‘The Great Hall.’

Cin: Wouldn’t it be a trip if that key sent him to the Great Hall at Hogwarts and not the Great Hall of Castle Oblivion or wherever the fuck?

As soon as he says the words the key lights up bright red, and the last thing I see is his face smirking at me before he vanishes into thin air.

I sink to the floor slowly, so slowly.

Oh god,

let me see him suffer, and I will be grateful for all eternity. Amen.

Cin: I’ll be grateful for all eternity if you get OFF YOUR ASS AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL TO FACILITATE HIS SUFFERING.

How dare he? How… how bloody dare he?

They’re Fucking Evil!: 40

I hate him, with his pureblood mania and self-righteousness and smug attitude, the bastard, the utter, utter bastard-

Sigyn: And now I’m back to “good job remembering you hate him e_e” Also, she’s called him a bastard 7 times this chapter. Part of me wants to start a count, but part of me is already tired from keeping up with the counts we already have.

I pick up the tray of food and I throw it across the room.

Sigyn: and now YOU’RE back to being a complete fucking IDIOT and erasing all my empathy for you!

It smashes into the wall and falls to the floor with an almighty clatter, the water spreading across the ground as the empty goblet rolls across the ground.

I stare blankly at the floor, wanting more than anything for the light to go away and for darkness to swallow me whole.

THE COUNTS SO FAR!

“I’m Scared!”: 25

Like Muggles Do: 76

Did You Forget Your Prejudice?: 41

“You Coward!”: 17

Stop Holding My Hand With Your Hamfists!: 14

They’re Fucking Evil!: 40

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