Fan Fiction ❯ Last Hope ❯ 11 ( Chapter 11 )

"Where's Hermione?" asked Harry, looking around the crowded Common Room. The others began scanning the crowd for her as well. "She said something about going down to check on Draco," said Niki, casually. They all stared at her. "Slytherin House? She went down there alone?" asked Dragon. Niki calmly nodded, surreptitiously noticing the panic that flashed across his face. Dragon rose abruptly to his feet and ran from the room. Gryff and Phoenix started to follow, but Niki stopped them. "I think Dragon can handle anything the Slytherins can throw at him. He was their leader once, after all." Gryff's green eyes narrowed, suspiciously, but he sat. Phoenix was still staring after Dragon, worry for Hermione evident in his eyes. Niki gave a sharp tug on his sleeve and he slid sullenly into his seat.

Silently praying to every deity he had ever heard of, Dragon rushed down the stairs toward the dungeons. He knew damn well what the Slytherins were capable of when they caught someone unaware in the dungeons. Granted, Draco would probably keep things to a minimum, but even given the current situation, it was unlikely he would stop it completely. Draco was still Draco, after all. He had not undergone the forging by fire that would turn him into a man like Dragon. He was still fully capable of enjoying a good bout of torture, especially the torture of Hermione Granger, the best witch at Hogwarts, every teacher's pet, every wizarding parent's wet dream and Muggle born to boot. She was just too perfect a target for him to resist.

`Well, this worked out really well,' Hermione thought to herself, wryly. Goyle's hand was large, hot and sweaty, pressing over her mouth and partially over her nose as well, making it hard to breathe. She couldn't see much past the sweat stained robe that nearly covered her face. It seemed her plan to get Dragon's attention was about to blow up in her face. Crabbe and Goyle had caught her just as she'd entered the dungeons. She wasn't sure where they were taking her but she was pretty sure she wasn't going to like it.

"Basilisk," said Dragon, and watched the bricks rearrange themselves until the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room was revealed. He stepped into the room just in time to see the last scrap of a black robe disappearing down the stairs to the lower, secret dungeons. Cursing under his breath, he followed. His footsteps were silent on the stone stairs. From below, the sound of cruel laughter was getting louder. He heard a familiar voice say "Mudbloods should stay away from the dungeons, Granger. You're about to find out why." Draco's voice. His own. His footsteps became quicker and he stepped off the last stair, into the maze of the dungeons. Looking around he drew a sharp breath and felt panic take hold of him. There were at least a hundred ways to get lost down in these dungeons and Dragon, for the life of him, could not remember the way to the central chamber.

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes as a strong male hand squeezed her face and a gag was tied in place. She wasn't sure whose hand it was. She knew that Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint were there, at least and possibly others. They were all around her, pressing too close, hands grabbing at her, tearing her clothing, pulling her hair, groping, twisting, pinching and bruising her flesh. She whimpered when she heard a tearing sound and her robes fluttered to the floor around her. Her knee length skirt and white dress shirt provided little protection from their cruel hands and panic squeezed at her chest. Someone gripped the front of her shirt and yanked and the buttons popped loose, leaving the thin white fabric hanging open, baring the white lace bra she wore. Shaking uncontrollably, she tried to raise her arms and cover herself, but someone grabbed her wrists, wrenching them behind her and she felt cold iron clap around them. She had been shackled, to the floor, it seemed. Helpless to defend herself, silenced by the gag in her mouth, all she could do was shake and tug, uselessly, at the chains, as her skirt and the remains of her shirt were torn away. She'd lost her shoes some time ago, during her journey to this place and she was left standing, barefoot in the dark, in her underwear. "Not bad, Granger," came a harsh voice. Marcus Flint's breath was hot on her ear and she flinched away from him. He grasped a handful of her hair and yanked her back toward him, throwing her off balance and she fell against him. Laughter rumbled through the darkened room as he crushed her body against his and she felt the clear evidence of his arousal. She tried to shrink away, but he held her fast and she felt someone else press against her from behind. The hands were back, all over her body, rough fingers shoving their way under the cloth of her bra and panties. A choked sob escaped her and she felt her knees start to give way. The cruel hands held her up, though and she felt someone trying to unhook her bra. She twisted away and was punished with a slap to the face, hard enough to cause her head to snap to one side. She didn't cry out, she was in too much shock, unable to think, to reason, to believe that this was happening to her. Through her stupor she could have sworn she heard Draco Malfoy's voice say, "I think we've scared her enough. Let's knock her out and dump her somewhere." An answering voice, Flint's, probably, since Goyle and Crabbe never argued with their leader, said, "I think not. I'm not nearly through with her yet." "Flint-" Whatever else Malfoy said was lost when a second blow, this one to her temple, sent her reeling and she actually fell to the cold stone floor. Without the ability to catch herself with her hands, she landed hard on her right shoulder and cracked her head against the ground. The blackness of the dungeons suddenly got darker.