The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER TWELVE

Trigger Warning for attempted sexual assault.

Page count: 11

In Hermione's half-conscious mind, something felt off. She knew she should wake up, but exhaustion weighed her down; her brain was overcrowded with thoughts of Death Eaters, murders, rituals, and memories of the war. Sleep was the only escape, even if it magnified everything else.

Her instincts screamed that something was wrong, but the warning was buried under layers of fatigue. That was why she didn't feel the bed shift under another weight, why she didn't notice the blanket being pulled away, and why she didn't sense someone moving over her—until it was too late.

A hand brushed against her neck. She bolted upright, reaching for her wand—but it wasn't there. She'd left it on the table. A mistake, and a dangerous one.

The intruder, the man from the front desk, loomed over her. His presence was immediate and threatening, and she could feel the weight of him pressing down as he tried to subdue her. Hermione's eyes widened, heart hammering.

She twisted, bucked, and fought to create space. But he was much bigger. Much stronger.

She needed her wand. She always kept it with her. When she slept. When in the shower. How could she have been so stupid to leave her wand out of reach?

A hand clamped over her mouth, preventing sound.

"It's only you and me."

There was a look in his eyes. Something monstrous.

She fought harder, but he pinned her in place, his hand circling her throat and squeezing. Panic flared, tears flowed.

His hand freed her mouth, her frightened whimpers filling the silent room. Fingers traced the curve of her cheek, forcing her to face him when she looked away.

'Castiel! Castiel!' She pleaded. There was no answer. No shadow of wings.

"You're going to feel so good, Anna," he whispered.

The name slipped from his lips like a prayer.

Not only was he a rapist. He was certifiably bonkers.

Her legs ached under his weight, blood rushing to the surface and bruising her skin.

Smack!

Her head snapped to the right, flesh stinging where he struck her. She tasted iron on her tongue, blood dripping from her lip.

Her breath caught from surprise, pain and fear.

She screamed, hoping someone, anyone, would hear.

"I love you, Anna. Why would you cheat? I gave you everything, but it was never enough."

His voice was low, eyes dark and spiteful. Then he grinned, his hand on her throat tightening. It stilled her thrashing, a ragged gasp tearing for her lips. "Leaving was a mistake."

As he reached for her shirt, Hermione pounded her fists against his chest. He growled, his hand released her throat and he collected both of her wrists in one fell sweep, pinning them above her head. Her body wracked with coughs, air flowing back to her lungs.

Flesh stung once more. He smacked her across the face a second time, the ring he wore splitting her cheek. As she reeled, his hand tugged at her collar, the fabric tearing under the force. His hand found her breast, rough and groping.

Hermione screamed until her throat felt like razor blades. Her legs kicked, her body wriggled, but he was too heavy. Unmoving.

"Shut it!" He snapped, once more covering her mouth.