Manacled (dramione)

Chapter 6

Warning: This chapter features rape. I have done my best to depict it in a manner that is not unnecessarily graphic but I have also tried to be realistic about the impact of such a thing. I will not be repeatedly featuring such scenes in this work but it is an overarching element of this story and I did not think it would be honest to gloss over it. Reader discretion is advised.

Hermione didn't say anything. She just looked at him.

She was relieved she wasn't trembling.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, reminding herself she just had to endure for a little while-just until she could formulate a plan.

She could endure it. She would.

She was uncertain of what she was supposed to do. Was he expecting her to go lie down on his bed?

He strode past her to the wardrobe and after laying his hand against the door for a moment, jerked it open.

Perhaps Malfoy was not entirely monk-like. The wardrobe had almost an entire room within it. The door held a full bar, and Malfoy snatched a bottle of firewhiskey off a shelf and pulled the cork out with his teeth. Spitting the cork onto the floor, he raised the bottle to his lips and stared at her.

Hermione just waited.

After a minute, he drew his wand and with a quick movement conjured a table in the middle of the floor. Hermione stared at it, completely at a loss. She looked over to Malfoy.

He sneered at her.

"Bend over," he said in a low, taunting voice, gesturing toward it.

Hermione hadn't thought she could feel any more revulsed by him, but apparently she could. She bit down on the inside of her lip until she felt the skin give away and blood flood over her tongue as she felt her feet begin to obey automatically.

She walked slowly over and after hesitating for a moment, leaned across the table.

The wood bit into her hip bones. She rested her hands against the edges and gripped them until her knuckles cracked from the force. She fought to keep from trembling. Her whole body felt on edge from the intensity of her vulnerability. Her ears were straining to detect any sound.

There was a pause. Then she heard Malfoy approach her slowly.

He stopped directly behind her and there was another silence. She could feel his eyes on her.

The air shifted.

"Are you still a virgin, Mudblood? Is that something you even remember?"

She flinched as she realised she didn't know.

He stepped closer. "I'm sure Weasley or Potter climbed up there at some point." She could hear the mockery in his tone.

His hand rested briefly on the small of her back as he pulled her skirts up to her waist. She felt the cold air of his room against her skin. She was shaking so hard the table was rattling.

"Well, I suppose we'll know soon enough," he said and then commanded, "Move your feet wider."

She forced herself to shift.

She felt his fingers on her and jerked away slightly.

He muttered under his breath and she felt something warm and liquid inside her. A lubrication charm. She started so abruptly the table legs shrieked as they dragged across the wood floor.

"We can't have any damage or infections impairing your-usefulness," he explained in a derisive tone.

She heard his belt click and then, without warning, he impaled her with himself.