𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

☾ Chapter 6

☾

The conversation with Harry and Ronald had not gone well. Being so incredibly stubborn she'd been able to trick Draco eleven nights in a row into thinking she'd taken her medication.

Swallowing down mere water with the pill tucked underneath her tongue, she'd spit it out once everyone was sleeping and stashed them underneath her pillow.

Despite not having taken her medication, the conversation had gone over so badly with the boys she refused to dream at all, unless her mind took her there herself. No effort was put into doing so; if her consciousness wanted to bring her there, then it would.

She couldn't care less.

Over and over again she lied to herself.

She'd debated using some form of stick to ground them into the cell's cement floor, turning them into fine powder, but she'd decided if she were to give up, the pills would make an easy overdose.

She needed her disassociation and dreaming for interrogations. She would give up information otherwise. Medication compromised that space in her mind.

They came after dinner to take her away.

Two harsh guards plus the female with those damned green eyes would drag her to the interrogation sight, precedingly attempt over and over again to enter her mind both magically and physically.

Hermione had yet to break.

They tied her hands and feet to the wooden chair, removing the cloth gag from her mouth which she had chewed through with her teeth.

"Why haven't we killed her yet?" One drawled, "Obviously she's not giving up-"

"Shut your mouth, Mortimer. She'll break," her long fingernail dug into Hermione's chin, lifting her syrupy brown eyes to her green devilish ones.

Hermione began to drag her mind elsewhere as magic continued to pound against her brain to no avail.

"No wonder you're little friends are dead," she drawled, "I'm sure you're the only one who would've managed to last this long. The boy who lived is a pretty ironic, isn't it?"

Hermione's lip slightly trembled, but she didn't give in.

"Out of all the men in the world," the woman began, slightly pacing the floor in front of her ancient, rickety chair, "Why the poor, ludicrous one? Such a man-child, such a jackass. You'd think a strong woman like you would deserve someone a little more... Intelligent?"

"Go to hell," Hermione growled, trying to break free from the ropes that tied her to the wooden chair. Usually male death eaters would laugh at a pathetic little girl's attitude, but the woman had had enough of her antics.

"Shut the fuck up, little bitch," the woman seethed, hands gripped so tightly around Hermione's neck she was close to spewing up blood. "Mudblood piece of shite."

She spat on her cheek, kicking the chair from beneath her once again.

Thank Merlin her head hadn't hit the floor, but the fall had knocked the wind out of her.

Hermione heaved for air as a pointed black boot kicked into her lung, then her limbs, leaving red marks all over her body.

She was sure they would bruise.

Another kick to the stomach and she'd hurled her dinner all over the floor.

"Pig."

Hermione wailed out as the woman's boot hit her cheek, knocking a back tooth from it's socket making her mouth bleed before spitting the bone onto the ground, into what remained of her dinner.