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Hermione was lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor. She had absolutely no energy to react to what was happening.The owners of the manor were running around in a panic, Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to be chastising the Huntsmen and Tails.They had escaped. Her friends had escaped without her. Harry and Ron. Dobby, Lumna, Ollivander. They're all on the loose and she's not.An ocean of feelings consisting of joy that they had a chance to survive and win, and the fact that she was left here all alone, doomed to die, perhaps a long and painful death, overrode the fact that five minutes earlier, the dark-haired witch had beaten the rest of her senses out of her with her cruciatus and her dagger.Her body ached with pain. She retreated quickly enough, but her arm stung treacherously.She was lying on the cold marble floor, and on her hand glistened a blood-splattered, fuzzy outline of the inscription “Mudblood.”No one seemed to care about her being here. Everyone was in a panic over Harry Potter's escape with the help of the Malfoys' former house elf.The girl had never felt worse in her life than she did right now. She seemed to have already warmed the cold marble floor beneath her and it was warming her with her own body heat. Or maybe it was her own delusion. It didn't really matter at all.It seemed as if nothing mattered in this world.She didn't know how much time had passed when voices were heard in the hallway again.- No one had time to call it in, did they?- Uh, no.- Good. He's out of the country and won't show up for a couple days. You have time to cover your tracks so that your precious Lucius and Draco aren't killed on the doorstep. If you do it right, they'll have a chance.- What exactly are you suggesting?- Erase and replace everyone's memories. Make it look like nothing happened and Potter wasn't even here. Otherwise, he'll kill us all. There's no other option.- What about her? So we need to get her back to Potter.- Maybe. But later. In the meantime, I'll keep her.- Bella, don't kill her. You can't pretend it never happened.- We'll see how she behaves. Don't bother me today, Cissy.The clacking of heels announced that Hermione was left alone with her tormentor. Perhaps her certain death.From the dialog that had passed, her poorly functioning brain had picked up on the fact that she might not be killed. Or rather, she might. If Narcissa hadn't left. And now, everything was in huge doubt. What would that madwoman think of?Speaking of crazy. The clatter of other heels echoed resoundingly in her aching head. She was coming from behind. Hermione's whole body clenched as she was kicked in the back like a stone lying in the road. She jerked and sucked in air, trying not to choke on the pain piercing her body again.- Oh, alive. - A rough voice announced with feigned surprise. A voice that had only recently shouted “Crucio”. - Get up!Get up after everything she had done to Hermione? Get up??? She didn't mean it, did she?- Ouch. - came out of Hermione's mouth as another boot hit her in the back.- I said get up, asshole. Or I'll kick you like this all the way to my room.Realizing that it was better to endure the pain of standing upright than to endure numerous more beatings after which she would be forced to stand up anyway, Hermione clenched her teeth with all her might and stood up. First on her elbows, and then carefully got to her feet. Her jeans and t-shirt had moved off to the side after finding Bellatrix on top of her. Her coat was still held on by the sleeves, one of which was smeared with blood.Her hands trembled. She lowered her left, hiding it from herself. Catching her balance on cotton legs, she finally dared to look at her tormentor. There was no more delaying the moment.The woman with the mop of long dark curls was half a head taller than Hermione, not counting the heels. The dark eyes were deep and merciless. But they weren't empty. There was fire in their depths. It made her stand out from everyone Hermione had seen in the manor.If Narcissa was ice, Bellatrix was undoubtedly flame.Perhaps that fire was fueled by torture, perhaps by serving Voldemort, or maybe she was just really crazy.- I didn't try hard enough to get you up so easily. - She grinned, looking at Hermione, who was barely able to keep herself up, swaying from side to side, trying not to bend in half. - Walking beside me. One wrong move on your part and you're dead. Is that clear?Hermione nodded, unable to speak and not knowing how to address the woman after everything... that had happened between them. The thought, phrased in such a way, made her cheeks blush. It must have been a big one, for Lestrange's attention had not been spared.- Why are we blushing, mudblood? Did you enjoy the torture? I'm exhausted, but we can do it again later, if you're so excited.Hermione lowered her head, her face burning even more than before. She walked in silence, realizing that all of the woman's questions were rhetorical.They walked down the seemingly endless corridors of the manor. This lunatic wanted to get Hermione this far so that her screams wouldn't disturb the sleeping masters of the manor? How thoughtful. Or had the Malfoys just relegated the crazy girl to the furthest reaches of the manor?Every step of the road echoed with pain in the girl's body. She didn't know what she wanted more, to come to a place where there was no telling what was waiting for her, perhaps with a lot of pain and new trials, or to walk forever down these bloody corridors, side by side with her nightmare, feeling pain from every step.But as we know, nothing in life lasts forever. Bellatrix stopped beside a large door almost at the end of some regular dingy corridor. And a second later, the door opened with the witch's wand, revealing a spacious room in front of them both.Lestrange walked inside and Hermione had no choice but to follow her. She brought her into her own room? Why!!! Wasn't there a single spare basement in the whole manor?Hermione walked in and the massive door immediately slammed shut behind her. She locked it. They are alone at the end of a huge estate. Which is in the middle of nowhere. She could do anything her sick imagination could do to her here. And it's not like it's the last place a girl sees in her life.Lestrange walked imperiously inside the room and pulled back the curtains. The floor-to-ceiling windows, which a moment ago had revealed an overcast sky, were separated by a dark and dense material, cutting Hermione off from the outside world and the ability to at least see it.Bellatrix turned around and looked down at the girl huddled in the doorway. She then walked over to the fireplace and lit it. The lighting in the room was gloomy, matching her mistress. The large, high bed was made of dark green silk. The fireplace took up a good part of the room. A soft gray carpet lay before it. The floor of the room was dark wood, which was much more cozy than marble and other varieties of minerals.There were two other doors leading out of the room besides the one they had entered. Hermione guessed that one of them was the bathroom.She hadn't been in a proper bathroom in so long it was hard to count. Their little shower in the tent had been disgusting. And after wallowing around the basements and floors today, being covered in blood and feeling sore all over her body...- Why are you up? - Bellatrix shifted her gaze to her, having finished setting up the room.Hermione didn't answer. What was she supposed to do? Do the death dance? Walk further into the devourer's room without permission? Lie at the woman's feet begging for her life? What does she want to hear?- My wall paintings are more verbose. Am I talking to the void? Or should I start hitting you again? You were really loud down there.- I don't know what to say to you. - Hermione replied, trying to hide the challenge in that phrase. But after everything she had been through, it was extremely difficult to speak calmly. Even though there was no strength for confrontation.- Well, at least I made sure I didn't cut your tongue out. Okay, don't touch my stuff. You belong on the floor. I need a shower after this. - short and to the point. That's her style.Having set the boundaries clearly enough, Lestrange disappeared through one of the doors. Hermione's assumption about finding a bathroom in there proved correct.She stood for a few more minutes almost unmoving. Only when she realized that she had no strength left at all did Hermione walk over to the fireplace and sit down on the rug next to the source of heat. She was still pounding, whether from the stress or the cold.The girl sat on the floor, looking around the room and realizing the pitifulness of her situation. Everything inside was clenching with fear. She could not imagine what would happen next and whether she would be able to see tomorrow's dawn. And now the three of them could sit in the tent, discussing future plans and drinking tea. But one little misstep and there it was. She's a prisoner of the mad death eater. All alone. In the lair of Voldemort's other followers. Even if she can somehow miraculously escape this room, she'll never make it out of the manor alive. Therefore, it's useless to even think about it. What was really worth thinking about was how to deal with Lestrange in a way that would leave her a chance of escape. She sat and warmed herself, struggling to hold back the renewed tears.There was a clock on the wall. Because the curtains were drawn tightly, she could tell the time only by it. The hand was now at half past eight.How she wished she could go back just ten hours and transgress to another place. How she wished this was all just a nightmare. But, alas. The tongues of flame in the fireplace encompassed the light-colored wood and burned it. They were taking the logs into a captivity from which they would never escape as they had been before.After another fifteen minutes, the door to the room opened and her tormentor returned to the room. Probably, except for family members, no one had ever seen the powerful Bellatrix Lestrange, head of the Eaters, in a black silk robe, and with a slight blush on her pale cheeks from the hot shower. The sight was so unfamiliar that even fear receded briefly. Even so, she was powerful, graceful, and awe-inspiring. What difference does it make what a tiger wears, as long as it does not stop being a dangerous predator. And so it was with her.A smirk slid across the beautiful lips.- Well done, you've taken your place, pet. What kind of treatment is that? Is she serious right now? It sounds extremely weird, demeaning, and...cute? Ew. Sweet Bellatrix Lestrange, what could be more disgusting? Sweet sadistic bloodthirsty murderer. Lovely.Lestrange walked around the room going about her business as if Hermione didn't exist. A pet. Just a street dog underfoot. Filthy and covered in blood. Mudblood. Her hand burned sharply, so much so that she jerked and hissed, grabbing her forearm.- What, a mudblood really cuts hands?Hermione only looked up at the woman approaching her. Her robe was long, but like any other robe it split down the middle. Tied with a silk sash at the waist, it revealed a deep cleavage, from which the girl instantly averted her gaze, immediately blushing traitorously.- Are you completely roasted by the fire?Hermione was silent again. Then Lestrange leaned over and slapped her with the palm of her handslapped her face with the palm of her hand. Her cheek burned hard and sharp, and the girl clutched at it with a restrained sob.- I'm not fucking talking to myself! And I won't get tired of hitting you as long as you ignore me.- I'm sorry.Bellatrix looked around at her captive for a while. Then she said something Hermione had not expected.- You're supposed to be covered in mud and blood, but I don't want you getting it all over the place. all over the place. Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.Hermione obediently stood up and headed towards the door from which the witch had recently appeared.- Stop.She stopped. Lestrange approached and grabbed the girl's wrist painfully with one hand and pointed her wand at her with the other. Hermione's insides clenched with fear. She tried to automatically pull her hand away. But the woman was obviously stronger, squeezing her wrist until it turned white.- Oh, give it a rest. Did you decide to bleed to death in the bathtub? - she worked her magic on the girl's forearm without saying a word. - Though I wouldn't mind if you decided to drown yourself. Less trouble. - The dried and wet blood was being removed, and the writing on the arm was becoming more and more clearly visible. Lestrange grinned. - It will stay with you for the rest of your life. - And then, shoving the girl's hand away from her, stepped back.After another moment, she pulled a large towel and something made of green silk from the cupboard, and then threw it at Hermione. The girl caught the things in mid-air, despite her sluggish reaction.- Get out. And you can sit there longer, at least I'll get a break from your pathetic appearance.Hermione walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She felt some sort of supposed safety. Placing the towel and silk shirt on the vanity, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Horrified at her appearance as a beaten dog, she did not hesitate to pull off her clothes and walked to the bathroom. It was already filling with water.The whole thing was pure madness. She was going to take a bath in Bellatrix Lestrange's chambers. Tell her that twenty-four hours ago and she'd be twiddling her thumbs. But life loves a sudden change that turns the whole familiar reality one hundred and eighty degrees. It's moments like this that make you feel especially alive.She sank into the hot water and the tears she had been holding back for so long burst out. They ran down her cheeks in hot streams. The pain, resentment, humiliation, and hopelessness of her situation really made her want to drown herself in that bathtub. But she was a Gryffindor. She wouldn't give up and she wouldn't give up on nothing. This is war, and there is no war without pain and sacrifice. She'll fight to the last man. If only to make sure her friends win. For good to win. She's a Gryffindor. Trapped in a den of the truest Slytherins.The hot water relaxed her body little by little. Her skin burned where Bellatrix had hit her. And those places were all over her body.But the scar... No, it wasn't bleeding. The witch had healed it. Will it really last a lifetime? If she survived, she would try every method to get rid of it.She healed the wound on Hermione? First she cut it out, but then she healed it herself. First she beat her to a pulp, then she brought her to her own room and let her recover in her own bathroom. By the logic of this chain of events, to be maimed and abused again. Is she so squeamish that she's uncomfortable torturing filthy captives and so she lets them into the shower first? Or is this some sort of goodwill before she dies? This woman is sick. There are many rumors about her. Some say that she was adequate before Azkaban, others that she went insane in prison, others are convinced that she was always crazy, and others that the woman has been perfectly healthy mentally throughout her life.The last one is definitely nonsense. No healthy and adequate person can enjoy torture and serve Voldemort. To serve so fanatically.She was glad that Bellatrix had asked her to take her time. No, the word asked did not fit Bellatrix. It's more like commanded. But the point remains the same, Hermione can delay whatever comes next for her and be in imaginary safety while regaining her strength.There was no clock in the bathroom, and so the girl didn't know how long she spent in the hot water, until she felt like she was about to dissolve. With a heaviness in her entire body, she stood up and wrapped herself in a large soft towel. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine that she was somewhere far away, in a warm cozy house and nothing threatened her. But alas.Fully drying herself with a towel, Hermione put on her shirt and looked at herself in the carved mirror above the sink. The expensive dark green silk felt pleasant against her body. Green. Slytherin lair, Slytherin color, Slytherin rules.Questions swirled in her head. Are these Lestrange's personal clothes? Isn't Hermione's status in this house something like Kikimer's loincloth or Winky's tea towel? It didn't make any sense...The shirt fit her perfectly. It fit almost everywhere except the chest. Yes, it was definitely a Bellatrix thing.After washing her face with cold water countless times so that the swelling from her recent tantrum would go down, Hermione found herself thinking that she didn't look so bad, but she didn't feel so bad. Her body had stopped aching a little. But a sickening nausea was creeping up her throat. It was the stress of her body and the fact that the last time she'd eaten disgusting mushrooms had been yesterday, more than twenty-four hours ago.There was simply no more time to delay the moment. And with her heart pounding fast, she exhaled and pushed open the door to the room. She was ready to meet the dark eyes. But the witch was not in the room. She looked around the room suspiciously, making sure she wasn't being attacked from behind, and walked a little deeper into the room.Apparently Bellatrix was where the third door from the room led. Hermione stood in the middle of the room in confusion. Should she sit on the floor again and stare at the wall? Or walk to the next room? And what would she say to the witch? Am I washed up and ready for more torture?The first option seemed the most harmless. Until my nose caught a familiar odor. The smell of food. Delicious food that made her insides clench and her stomach make the sounds typical of hunger.To die, the girl thought, and moved toward the ajar door.It was the kitchen. Well, like a kitchen, more like something between a dining room and a bar. Inside there were racks of alcohol and a small table, seating four people. There was food on the table, which was the source of that great smell that had brought Hermione here.Sitting at the table was her. Still in the same robe. Her posture was casual and relaxed, but her gaze was heavy, intense, and yet bored. In one hand a glass with a fiery colored liquid. Her gaze shifted from the glass to the woman who had entered.- Did you swim? - rhetorical question again. - Pure filth. Even sounds funny.Hermione stood and didn't move much, only shuffling from foot to foot while the woman scrutinized her in detail with a completely obscene and haughty look. She was drunk. Perhaps not very drunk yet, judging by the just-begun bottle of firewhiskey standing on the table. But even so. Hermione had never in her life imagined a drunk Death Eater in the same room as herself. Or rather herself with her.- What are you hanging out for? Hungry?- Yeah,” Hermione nodded, remembering what the silence was doing to her.- You know, I'd love to watch you drool and torture you with it, but not today. I'm not in the mood. You want to sit down to eat.Hermione looked at the woman in disbelief. Just like that? Sit at a table with Bellatrix Lestrange? With a woman who had killed... how many people? It's frightening.- Pet, I don't torture people while they're eating. So you'd better eat. I wonder how she communicates with the Dark Lord? Are the rumors about her being more than a servant to him true? That she stands above the rest in status? That he stays alone with her? FU. Hermione nearly choked on what was presented. What an abomination. The woman may have been disgusting in behavior, but outwardly.... a blind man wouldn't notice how beautiful she was. And this semblance of a man with a missing nose and maybe something else.... It's horrible. Incomprehensibly to herself, Hermione's insides went wild when she imagined this wretch touching Bellatrix. She did her best to chase those thoughts away.Their peculiar dinner passed in silence. It wasn't until Hermione had eaten that Lestrange broke the silence.- Are you drinking?The woman knew how to surprise. Every time she started to speak, Hermione heard something completely different from what she expected. Remembering that it was best not to be silent for long, she answered.- Rarely. And usually something not strong.The woman stood up and walked to the bar. A moment later, she placed a glass as big as her own on the table in front of Hermione. She reached for the bottle, filled it about a quarter full, and roughly slid it toward Hermione.Sounds very convincing. Before she changed her mind, we should go for it. Hermione sat down across from the witch and reached for a piece of kidney pie. Her hands were shaking. Taking another apprehensive look at the woman, who was sipping from a glass of firewhiskey with a completely defiant look, Hermione took a bite of the pie. It was amazing. The chunks of beef and kidneys breathed life into her body, which had been eating nothing but mushrooms in forests that were hardly meant to be eaten at all.She ate. Pie, roasted potatoes, carrots and Brussels sprouts. She took a little bit of everything, afraid of incurring the woman's wrath with her insolence. And her ravenous body couldn't take too much normal food at once to avoid the consequences.This food was reminiscent of Hogwarts food. It plunged her into childhood and safety, giving her positive emotions. The girl suppressed them in herself. It would be quite the impertinence to sit eating at the same table with a Death Eater and smile. The horror.The woman didn't eat. She occasionally drank and poured herself some fiery liquid, and the rest of the time she stared at the wall, clearly in her own thoughts.She must have been scared, too. It was hard to imagine, but it was true. If they summoned Voldemort today and he found out that Harry was right in their grasp, but managed to escape.... this place would be the scene of a mass murder.- So today wasn't going to be business as usual.She didn't move away, standing some feet away from Hermione. Although, maybe after the woman laying on top of her, it was a minor intimacy, but it wasn't pleasant.- Drink. - The perennial commanding tone.- But... I don't drink that stuff. - Hermione tried to object. And then she regretted it. The curved wand rested against her chin.- Don't forget, girl, you're here on my terms. But since you're a guest, I'll give you a choice. A portion of cruciatus or a portion of firewhiskey.Hermione immediately took the glass in her hand, but her doubts were taking over.- Isn't it poisoned?- Are you stupid? I drink from the same bottle myself.Exhaling, the girl took a few small sips. The liquid burned everything inside. She had never drunk undiluted whiskey before. And she felt no pleasure at all. Except when the witch took her wand away from her face. Lestrange returned to her seat and sat down, putting her leg over her foot. The robe fell open a little and Hermione gulped at the moment when the slender leg was exposed almost completely. She took two more small sips of the scalding liquid to distract herself.- I see someone has gotten a taste for it. - Bellatrix grinned, watching the girl's movements.After a couple of minutes Hermione began to feel her body relaxing, the shaking and pain in her head receding and her mind fogging up. Her head was starting to feel slightly dizzy, but not at all like after a cruciatus. She hadn't tried heavy alcohol before, so she'd never felt her body get drunk so quickly. Or maybe it was the small amount of food in her system and the stress she'd been through.She was surprised at how relaxed she felt in the presence of the woman. She hadn't become safer, no. It was just that Hermione's attitude had changed. Would she kill her? The hell with it.They sat for a long time, practically silent. Periodically Bellatrix refilled their glasses with fire-colored liquid. She drank more than Hermione, a lot more. But the girl felt like she was getting very drunk, so she tried to stretch the liquid out as long as possible.It was probably past midnight by now. The girl was very sleepy, her strength had left her almost since the morning after the torture. She kept a nonchalant expression on her face for all her strength, though it must have been bad. Because eventually Bellatrix said:- Go to sleep if you want.Hermione faltered.- Would you... Wouldn't kill me?The woman grinned into her glass.- 'No, pet. I don't take pleasure in killing in my sleep. Everyone dreams of dying in their sleep. And I'm not Santa Claus to fulfill dreams.Hermione shivered with the weight of the woman's last words.The room was still the same gloomy lighting. She walked over to the fireplace and lowered herself onto the rug beside it. It was almost like sitting on the ground and guarding a tent with her friends....She lay down. Lied down on the floor. Where she belonged. In the cloister of pureblood aristocrats. Mudblood.Only then, lying on the floor, did she realize that in all the time they'd been drinking, the woman had never once called her a mudblood. She hadn't really thrown insults at Hermione, either.Contrary to expectations, she didn't fall asleep instantly. Her tired and slowed down brain started to rev up and began to spin one thought after another.The last time she turned to look at the clock, it read ten to two. Turns out it wasn't easy to fall asleep on the floor. Especially in the room of your worst enemy, who had very ironically promised not to kill you in your sleep.The woman had probably only returned to the room when the bottle of firewhiskey was finished. Not to say Hermione was looking forward to her return, but she was still awake when the sound of footsteps echoed around the room. She could hear them especially well because of her proximity to the floor.With a wave of her mistress's wand, all the lights in the room went out. Only the fireplace remained. At first it seemed that nothing could be seen in its light, but as her eyes became accustomed to it, the outline of the room reappeared before the girl's open eyes. She was lying with her back to Bellatrix's bed, and therefore could only tell by the sound that she was lying on it.Is she sleeping in that robe or not?Oh, dear. What's on your mind? Is it alcohol or hormones? I think it's both. She used to do that when she and her friends would drink and then go to bed. In fact, sometimes it ended in sex. Not to say it was wildly pleasurable. Ron had little experience, a lot of selfishness, and then add Harry, who had to be kept from waking behind the thin wall of the tent. At times like this she even felt like she was frigid, as she didn't enjoy sex as such. It was different when she was exploring her own body and pleasuring herself. But... Oh Merlin, what was she even thinking lying on the floor of bloody Malfoy Manor????For a while longer, she heard Bellatrix flip back and forth on the bed about fifteen times. Then she fell silent. Had she fallen asleep? And wasn't she afraid of sleeping in the same room as Hermione, who might take her wand and kill her in her sleep? No, this is Bellatrix Lestrange we're talking about, she's hardly afraid of anything at all.In the silence Hermione could hear the witch's measured breathing, but it was impossible to tell if she was asleep or not. As soon as the girl thought about it, a husky voice came from the darkness:- Pet, are you asleep?Ugh. There was that ridiculous and vulgar reference again. I should pretend she's asleep.- No.” Hermione answered without realizing why.- Are you always this quiet, or is it just me?- I told you before, I don't know what to say to you. And most of your questions are rhetorical.- And if I promise that this night will be without cruciatus, will you talk to me?- I take it hitting anything else isn't part of the deal?- Don't get cocky, mudblood, you're my prisoner.- Not every captive gets whiskey.- You just got caught up in the mood.- How many people have you killed?- I don't know, I didn't count. - After a short silence, the witch answered. - What kind of question is that?- You wanted to talk.- Yes, but I'd rather ask. - Her voice was unfamiliar. It was too relaxed, too low and husky. No doubt she'd finished the whole bottle. - Are you a virgin?Hermione almost choked on air at such a question. She sat down on the floor and turned to face the woman. She was lying across the bed on her stomach with her hands propping her face up and looking at the girl who was blushing. She wasn't in a robe. She was wearing a shirt very similar to the one Hermione was wearing, only black.- Why do I have to answer that?- Because you're my prisoner.- Exactly. Prisoners are usually asked about their plans and stuff like that.- I know everything without you. The Order is gone. Pointless and boring. So, yes or no?- No.” Hermione said after a short silence.- I thought you were one of those nerds who pretend sex is something awful until they're forty. - grinned a drunken Lestrange. - And who is he? Or is it her? Or do you already have a mountain of experience under your belt?Hermione blushed even more. This was terribly embarrassing. The woman spoke without any embarrassment or discomfort, as if she were really asking her about the Order's plans.- No, I don't have a mountain of experience. I've only been with Ron.- Don't tell me that's the redhead in your trio. Ew. - she looked like she was gonna throw up. - Are your choices really that bad? You don't seem to be a freak.Hermione snorted into the darkness, suppressing a chuckle.- Thank you, that's the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten in my life.- I mean, seriously. Are you fucking him? Why?- Maybe because I want to?- Him or sex? - she watched the girl's face take on a crimson hue and then continued, grinning. - Okay, you're going to burn now, don't answer that. I know the answer. - Bellatrix circled the girl's rosy cheeks with her gaze. - You're so easily embarrassed.- I'd look at you under the pressure of such questions. - Hermione blurted out without thinking, but immediately faltered.- Ask. - Bellatrix just shrugged her shoulders in an indifferent gesture. - Ask anything and you won't even see a pink tint on my face. Just don't ask about the murders, it's too trivial.- Okay,” Hermione accepted the rules of the game. - Why isn't your husband here? You're married, I thought you were living together.- What do you know about arranged marriages? I've seen him at weddings, at common affairs and at drinks with friends. We've never lived together and neither of us cares at all about who's where or with whom.- So having a lover is the norm for you?- If you're talking about sex, yes. I can sleep with whoever I want. I don't have time for a relationship, unless you've forgotten who I am. And I haven't had time for sex lately either. I'm stuck in this bloody manor all the time.And that's when her eyes glittered. Hermione went cold.- You're my prisoner. I can do whatever I want to you, can't I? - rhetorical question again. - If I want, I can throw you into a cold cellar, if I want, I can burn you in a fireplace or just kill you, if I want...” she paused ominously. - Pet, come here.It got really scary. The woman's mood swings were frightening. First you're talking about boys, and then you're talking about your death and it's all within one minute and with the same intonation.Hermione rose to her feet and stiffened.- 'Don't make me angry. Come, come to me. - Bellatrix sat down on the bed.- К... To you? But my place is on the floor... - she hesitantly took a few steps toward the bed. Lestrange grinned.- That's true. But right now I want you to come over.Hermione stepped up close to the bed. The woman nodded, explicitly ordering her to sit down. In cases like this, it was best not to resist.- Good girl.How vulgar that sounded. Even worse than her nickname.- What do you want to do? - Trying to hide her fear, the girl asked.- I want to see what marks you left on you after tonight. - she moved closer to Hermione so that she could smell the witch's scent mixed with alcohol. She smelled delicious, in a way that made her want to inhale deeply. But that would be akin to suicide.Bellatrix knew absolutely no personal boundaries. Hermione had made sure of that back when the woman had climbed on top of her this afternoon. She had probably never experienced such intimacy with anyone other than Ron.And now, the witch didn't seem at all embarrassed and began to lift Hermione's shirt up. The girl immediately grabbed the garment with her hands, preventing the woman's actions.- Hands. - Her voice was cold and did not tolerate objections. - This is my room. My clothes. These are my rules. And you're mine, too.It sounded like the truest of threats. Hermione pulled her hands away, letting the thin fabric slowly slide up along with the older witch's hands. Her cheeks began to burn more and more as the fabric rose higher.- And you blush like a virgin. - The woman's lips twitched again in a sneer. - If you think that a woman's breasts are something unusual for me, you're wrong.It was as if she was purposely making the girl blush. Pulling her shirt up above her waist, the woman ran her hand over the bruise of considerable size now adorning Hermione's leg. And again. First she'd beaten her mercilessly, and now she was stroking the bruises with tenderness. Fucking crazy.Her hands moved higher, stroking every millimeter of skin that had taken on an unnatural hue. She lifted the fabric and eventually exposed the girl almost completely, holding the shirt at neck level. Hermione's breasts rose and fell from her deep breathing and her body trembled from her touch. It was strange and scary. But the scariest part was that when the woman's warm hand touched the bruise next to her breast slightly squeezing the breast itself, Hermione subtly arched her back and inhaled sharply. Bellatrix, who had been watching her reaction all this time, bit her lip. The whole thing made Hermione's lower abdomen start to tug traitorously. This is insane. This can't be happening.Lestrange ran her palm higher, as if to accidentally graze her nipple, and then let go of the shirt, letting it assume its former position.- Turn around and lie on your stomach.It was pointless and traumatizing to argue; all that was left was to obey.Turning over with her back to the top, she felt the woman repeating the same thing, slowly, as if deliberately stretching this incomprehensible moment. And she was apparently enjoying it. Hermione felt extremely strange, as Bellatrix's actions felt like open seduction, and a highly questionable one at that, considering what exactly she was considering. Could it be a fetish? First beating the hell out of someone and then getting turned on by it?The woman's hands were walking down her back, just around where the heavy boot had hit her. There must be a bruise halfway down her back there. Hermione decided to just let the situation go and even stopped flinching at every touch.After a while, apparently the bruising was over and the touching stopped. Daring to do so, the girl asked:- Can I get up?- You can. If you want to.She made everything sound like a bloody threat. Hermione carefully lifted herself up and turned towards the woman, something she instantly regretted.In the same instant she found herself pinned to the bed. Almost as much as she had been on the floor during the day, she was completely under Bellatrix. Only the sensations were different at night. How had she managed it so abruptly and quickly? Apparently there was a lot of experience climbing on top of people.Except. If during the day the woman was wearing a floor-length dress with a corset and long sleeves, and even then Hermione could feel the warmth of her body, then now... Fully naked hands were clasping her own, preventing her from moving. She was wearing an equally thin shirt that had a way of rising and slipping. Slender long legs were exposed in this position almost completely. Bellatrix pressed her with almost every point of her body. Hermione's breath caught from fear and shock at the same time. She didn't speak, only stared into the dark and deep eyes. I wonder if this is the last thing she sees in her life.As if reading her thoughts, the woman brought her hand up to Hermione's throat and running her fingernail from her chin to her chest, pressed her palm right against her neck. The grip was weak at first, but gradually Hermione had less and less air left. Why had she decided to choose choking specifically? What about her famous avada kedavra?Lestrange leaned closer and almost into the girl's ear she whispered:- Tell me, how does it feel to be here and realize that you could be killed at any second?She abruptly loosened her grip and Hermione breathed in as much air as she could at once. She tried to throw the woman off of her, to run away. She's crazy. She's going to kill her.But the attempts were a complete failure. Bellatrix was stronger. Only the sensations were different at night. How had she managed it so abruptly and quickly? Apparently there was a lot of experience climbing on top of people. Except.If during the day the woman was wearing a floor-length dress with a corset and long sleeves, and even then Hermione could feel the warmth of her body, then now... Fully naked hands were clasping her own, preventing her from moving. She was wearing an equally thin shirt that had a way of rising and slipping.Slender long legs were exposed in this position almost completely. Bellatrix pressed her with almost every point of her body. Hermione's breath caught from fear and shock at the same time.- I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm scared,” she began, trying not to choke on her own tears and stop her hysterics. - I'm scared, hurt, feeling helpless, hopeless, weak, and worthless.- Are you telling me you're that easy to break? Look. There's no fucking point in fear, why be afraid of something that's already inevitable sooner or later? Pain isn't so bad, especially when you get used to it. You can develop strength from every weakness. And hopelessness is completely natural in this world. Do you think you could bear to feel this way for years? Maybe decades?At the last phrases her voice was almost indistinguishable. But everything became clear to Hermione from that moment on. And why she had brought her to her room, and that she wasn't crazy, and how badly she had made a mistake in her choice, and that she herself understood it perfectly well.But her compassion ended the moment she was slapped in the face again. Her tears were already flowing, and she had no strength to resist. She just lay there and tried to cover herself with one freed hand while another blow came from the other side of her.- Please, please. Stop it. - the girl pleaded through her sobs.- No, I just don't believe it. I can't believe you're breaking down like this. You were so much more stubborn during the day, what happened now, mudblood?- I, uh, left all my strength behind.- From one torture? No, you're not that weak. I saw it in you.She spoke calmly, but she kept hitting the girl in the chest and face. Maybe not with all her might, but it didn't make it any easier.- That's enough. I'm asking you. You want me to beg? Ouch, fuck. - she finally burst out with another burst of pain. Bellatrix stopped.- Mmm, the words are coming out. I guess if I keep going, I'll hear that you're not such a goody-goody, huh?- No,” Hermione grabbed her trailing hand by her slender wrist and squeezed with all her might. - Please, no, don't. Please. - The tears flowed with redoubled force when she paused.- Stop crying. I'm not affected by your tears, I don't care about them. You know why?- Because you're heartless?The witch grinned.- How rude, pet. - Is that her talking about rude??? - No. Because they're empty. Just because you're crying doesn't mean anything when you're lying under me all wet.What? How? How?Hermione didn't notice it herself, probably because she was a bit engrossed in being beaten up. But how was the witch to know that? Her feet were a decent distance away from....- What is this nonsense? How...- I know everything, pet. Everything. - She whispered almost in the girl's ear, soft curls tickling her face and mingling with her own curls of hair. - I saw the way you looked at me. How under the alcohol you began to examine me in detail while I looked away. I can feel you breathing beneath me. And I see the way your body reacts to my touch. You're predictable.She ran her hand through the girl's hair. Her other hand was still in Hermione's. And to her surprise, the woman made no attempt to release it. She only continued to taunt.- I know you get wet every time I hit you. And you probably don't know why. But I do.- P--why--why? - The tears had lessened, but her breathing was ragged from the hysteria that had come before.- Because you're a dirty little whore. You like to obey. You get high on power, even if it's rough. You haven't felt it before because you haven't had someone around to show you. Red would die before he could show you any dominance. I'm sure you don't feel anything with him.Her voice was hoarse, drunk, but still calm. Her confidence in every word she said was astounding. But what was even more astounding was that Hermione's body agreed with every word. Even though the mind was adamantly against it. Tears were still running down her cheeks.The woman released the hand Hermione was holding, but instead of the expected blow, she only ran her thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears.- Stop pretending you don't like it. Give in to other emotions. - With those words, she put one foot down between Hermione's legs. It was only now that the girl herself realized how hot and wet it was. This was crazy. It just couldn't be. - Give yourself to me, pet.Hermione arched up to meet the pleasurable touch. She realized she was absolutely losing control of her body, but there was nothing she could do about it. The woman's hand, the one in the shade's hair, clenched, forcing Hermione to lift her head. And after another moment, hot plump lips touched her cheek, where the red mark her hand had left a couple minutes ago was visible.She traveled light kisses down the red cheekbone to the very corner of the girl's lips. She was teasing, exciting, maddening and frightening all at the same time. Exactly until the scarlet lips covered Hermione's lips, merging in a passionate kiss.It was incomparable to anything. What kind of adrenaline rush would you experience when kissing a king cobra? And what if it was the most stunning kiss of your life? It's impossible to describe. She was hot, wet and sweet to the taste, with just a distant whiskey flavor. It was incomparable to anyone else. It was so far removed from snotty kisses with Ron that even if you flew from the Earth to the moon, the distance would have to be multiplied by another million to convey that feeling. That difference.She was getting the upper hand. She kissed hotly and desperately, as if for the last time. The powerful tongue penetrated the girl's mouth, flirting with her own and winning every damn fight. If her mouth had been free, it would have had that incomparable and victorious grin on it. Hermione was ready to dissolve into this moment, to be forgotten, to stay here forever. Her lower abdomen was tugging with a sickly sweet ache. How much she wanted. Wanted Bellatrix Lestrange.Right now, Hermione was completely unconcerned about the critically small, life-saving supply of oxygen in her lungs. As long as the woman was kissing her, as long as she was pressing her big hot breasts against Hermione, she didn't need anything in this world, what the hell was oxygen?Bellatrix kissed her long, passionately, occasionally interrupting and opening her dark bottomless onyx colored eyes. If Hermione thought torture had come before, she was wrong. This was the real torture. Her body demanded to be touched, it demanded to be discharged. But no. She knew very well the woman would not give what she wanted. She would sooner die of desire than Lestrange would give her what she wanted. Surprisingly, it was in bed that she was patient. She hated when she wasn't answered for long, hated waiting, hated any procrastination, but now... she was dragging out every moment like Hermione did when she didn't want to get out of the bathroom. Every kiss was stretched by her as far as it could be. Every action was like it was in slow motion. She slowly ran her hands over the girl's body, slowly nuzzling her neck, and even more slowly her breasts through the silk fabric.Hermione caught the pace of her breathing and adjusted herself. She slowly arched her back to meet the woman's actions, slowly inhaled her amazing scent, and drowned in the soft curls as the woman kissed her neck.After countless moments of caresses, the older witch pulled away and climbed off the girl, no longer securing her with her body. There was no need for that. Hermione reached for the witch herself and gently pressed her palm on her firm and large breasts. In response, Bellatrix bit her own lip and lightly pulled down one thin strap of her shirt, exposing Hermione's area of interest.The girl's breath caught, she didn't know what it was that made her so bold, but the desire for unbreakable contact with the witch ordered her to act. And so in the next moment her hands, and then her lips, touched the heated breasts. She kissed, tracing paths with her tongue, circling her nipples and squeezing them lightly with her fingers. She longed to return everything the woman had made her feel. She only tilted her head back a little, and it was obvious how she was biting her lips, trying not to show Hermione her true emotions. Once again, this was completely out of character for her; in her life, the woman hardly restricted herself from showing her feelings. But on the other hand, more than expected. How could a pureblood witch enjoy the caresses of some dirty witch. Hermione grinned. She didn't really care. She wanted to give the woman so many pleasurable sensations that she just didn't have the strength to restrain herself.But she also knew that Bellatrix needed to feel sole domination, it was necessary for her and would make up a large part of her pleasure. And so she didn't move on to more until the witch herself directed her. And the one soon couldn't take it anymore. She took the girl by the chin and pulled her to her. Kissing her warm, bitten lips, she barely audibly told her right on the lips.- Make me feel good, pet. And maybe then, you'll get out of here in one piece. - She left a brief kiss on the girl's lips and released her. She was wrong about Hermione's wishes, very wrong. The girl at the moment wouldn't leave here even if they opened the door in front of her and handed over her wand, no.Intoxicated by the fiery whiskey and Bellatrix's passion, she kissed the woman's neck, then ran her hand down her body, traveling lower. Her hands timidly lifted the thin silk. After a moment, she realized that all this time her tormentor had not been wearing any underwear. This was disconcerting.Seeing that Hermione was questioning her actions, the woman ran her hand through her hair again and using only a fraction of her strength pulled downward. Even in the gloomy lighting of the fireplace, she could see the sheen of lubrication. It was the woman's true desire. Was it primal or had it come in the moment? Whatever. The girl moved closer to her. But first she turned her head slightly to the side and kissed her way down her leg almost to the most cherished spot, and then repeated the same thing, but with the other leg. Her skin was soft and tender, which was no match for her hard and rough nature.The hand became more insistent and soon the girl just couldn't resist it. Nor did she want to. She ran the tip of her tongue over the witch's clit, making her breath finally hitch. She was incredible. Salty and sweet at the same time. So hot and tender and wet. Hermione wanted to taste it again and again, wanted to never pull away from her. Her tongue slid along the folds around her clit, circled the entrance where more and more lubricant was coming out and caressed the most sensitive lump of nerves again.The witch vaulted her hips slightly, squeezing the girl's head only slightly. She began to press her harder, so that at times the girl had a hard time breathing. She arched her back towards the pleasurable action she had missed for so long. But still she didn't make a sound. It was annoying. Though her body's other reactions were more than enough to realize how good she felt, Hermione wanted, she longed to hear her moans.The girl ran her hands under the woman's hips, pulling her closer. She was already running her tongue all over the sensitive spots, collecting all the precious lubricant, sucking the lump of sensitive nerves into her mouth, making the witch breathe more and more.- Mmm... good pet, obedient, yes... - she sucked in air. her voice was all hoarse and reduced to a whisper, but so sexy. Hermione took her clit into her mouth, forming a vacuum and began to swiftly run the tip of her tongue from side to side over the sensitive lump of nerves. Bellatrix breathed sharply and loudly. Her hand pressed Hermione so hard that she had no chance to breathe. - 'Yes, my little slut, lick it, that's it, yes...' - She arched her back and slightly brought her legs together as the wave of long awaited orgasm hit her head. It didn't let Hermione go for another few long seconds, not letting her breathe. The girl felt a strong throbbing in her mouth and enjoyed making the witch cum.When Lestrange finally let go of her, she greedily began to absorb the oxygen, not missing a moment to savor the sight of an unaccustomedly relaxed Bellatrix. It would seem that at a moment like this, she should have grabbed her wand off the counter and run. But no. Hermione couldn't even think of doing that. She had just brought a woman to orgasm. And not just any woman, but some kind of sexual goddess. It was impossible to tear herself away from the sight.However, it wasn't enough for her. She hadn't achieved her goal and not a single moan had escaped those lips. Gryffindors never give up on their goal. And so, leaning over the woman, she ran her hand over her face, which showed a blush, and then moved lower, placing her hands on her breasts. But in response to this movement she received a disgruntled sigh and the interception of her hands by someone else's.- I hate it when they touch my breasts after an orgasm.- Okay," Hermione pulled her hands away, realizing her mistake. - Sorry.- You. - The witch added cheekily. - I'm sorry. - It was absolutely insane, after what had happened a moment ago, but she was right. Hermione liked it.- Good. Sorry, Mistress. - She added ironically, glancing up at the woman. The woman grinned.- I like you. - but realizing the meaning of her phrase, she added. - With that attitude.Hermione mirrored her grin and put her hands on her hips.- Is everything else you're allowed to touch, Mistress?- I see you don't get off that easy, do you? Yes. I do.They both liked it. And it made their heads hurt like hell. And so, Hermione returned to the lower position, which seemed to be her favorite, and ran her fingers over the heated womb. There was so much lube that her fingers instantly glistened. She nestled back into the tantalizing crotch.After fondling it with her tongue to savor that divine sweet taste again, she pulled back. A reflective smirk gleamed on her lips. Catching the dark gaze with her eyes, the girl slid two fingers down her clitoris and with a little pressure inserted them inside. The woman's muscles clenched, rather automatically, encompassing Hermione so tightly and so hotly. She took her time, adjusting to the witch. Slightly quickening her pace, she looked up into her eyes from below and then back down at her with her tongue, caressing and giving her dizzying pleasure without stopping the movements inside. Sucking on her clit with the pressure inside, she felt familiar fingers threading into her hair.Eventually Hermione reached her goal. At first it was heavily compressed moans, but then, the woman simply ran out of strength or will to resist. She moaned, humiliated Hermione with her sexy voice, moved to meet her, actually thrusting herself onto the face of the girl she was holding tightly and cumming twice more from the dirtyblonde's actions. - You know what I realized? There's another spot on you that I haven't left a mark on. That's not gonna work.Oh, no. Please, not the pain again. But... a sinister smile already graced those lips. There's no stopping it.- I want you to lie on your stomach.Maybe the pain is for the best. It'll help her come to her senses after such a powerful arousal. She wasn't going to get a release anyway.Hermione lay down. With her back to the woman, which was the worst and most unpleasant part.First the woman's hands gently went over her back. With light touches and stroking motions they headed downwards. Pulling up her shirt, she exposed the girl's buttocks, moving on to their tactile exploration.- This will be unnecessary in our punishment, pet.Hermione felt her panties being pulled down insistently. The soaking wet panties. This would not escape her attention.The gentle stroking of her buttocks was followed by ringing claps. They would leave no bruises. Only red spots that would come off by morning.Bellatrix enjoyed the girl's shrieks, changing from sobs to long moans.- I'm very good at making you blush. Not just your face. - She grinned, examining Hermione's blushing butt. - Do you like it, pet?- Y...yeah aaau," the answer turned into another shriek of a ringing thump.- How about this?Her hand slid down her buttocks and ran her fingers over her glistening and slippery crotch. How wet she was. Girl, you're a goddamn Niagara Falls. You want it so badly... She scored. Forgetting all principles and morals. Caressing the girl, so soft and red and wet, she slowly inserted two fingers into her, plunging them all the way in. The blushing ass instantly lifted, arching along with her back towards the witch.- Mmmmmm... aaahhh... God...... - Hermione couldn't believe absolutely nothing. Is she asleep? What's going on?Bellatrix increased her pace gradually, feeling the girl's muscles clenching her fingers and herself almost thrusting into them, demanding more, wanting release so badly.Hermione forgot how to breathe. She was being fucked by Bellatrix Lestrange herself in her own bed, which was soaking up the girl's current juices of passion and desire. And she was feeling as fucked as she had ever felt in her life. She realized she wouldn't last much longer. Her body was already overexcited, and then there were these long fingers, which the witch was bending inside, hitting the most sensitive point.She moaned loudly and frantically. She was on the edge. And it felt so good. Bellatrix could see it, feel it, she knew that just a little bit more and the girl would be covered head to toe. And that was why she came out of her rather abruptly. To which she instantly received moans of displeasure and wild indignation. Lestrange grinned. She could be understood.Hermione rolled over and stared at Bellatrix with almost wet eyes. She only moved closer and placed her hand, the one that was glistening with the girl's lube, on her breasts. With her fingers, she pulled and squeezed a nipple. Her other hand pulled the girl closer and squeezed her buttocks with force. Hermione frantically sought friction, she needed touch so badly right now.- Well you didn't think I wouldn't torture you at all, did you? No. It won't work like that.- You won't give me what I want, will you?- I'm selfish about most things, but not sex. So I'll let you cum. But it will be up to you. I want," she lowered her voice, brushing her lips against the girl's ear. - I want you to beg. To beg me. And only then...Despite the wild excitement, it was not so easy to get over herself. And so the woman cut her off three more times on her way to the very peak. The third time, Hermione whimpered and started swearing a lot, for which she was immediately punched in the face.- No, my sweet filthy slut. You're a slut, but I'm the only one allowed to swear so much in my own bed.Bellatrix clenched her jaw until it was white. And then she entered her again and began to build up her pace, faster than she had all the previous times.- Aaaaah, ay, dda... please... - You know what I want to hear.- Mmmm, aah, fuck, please let me cum, please, yes, please, aaaah, ahhh...She held her so close. Pressing her whole body against her. Feeling every wave of the girl's orgasm. Felt her muscles clenching so hard. Slowly moving inside her and pulling her closer, closer, closer. How hot she was. How hard she was breathing, almost panting. Bellatrix inhaled her scent, burrowing into her curly soft hair. She didn't care about anything right now. Upon waking up the next morning, everything came over Hermione all at once, from the nausea from the whiskey hangover to everything that had happened the night before.The worst part was that she was sleeping on a bed. The bed of a death eater. Which was sleeping literally thirty centimeters away from the girl.What would it feel like to wake up to find a saber-toothed tiger in bed with you?Well, that's exactly what Hermione was feeling right now. A huge surge of adrenaline sent her heart into a frenzied rhythm and a cold sweat ran down her body.She carefully slid off the bed, treading the wooden floor as quietly as possible with her bare feet. Reaching the door and trying not to creak it, good thing the doors in the Malfoy mansion were quiet, she made her way to the bathroom.Having cleaned herself up both mentally and physically, she needed to get out. In the bathroom she had time to cry from the overflowing emotions, clasping her mouth with the palm of her hand, bathe, washing off all traces of the night and the witch's touch, put on the same shirt and go out.Having thought of nothing better than to sit down on the rug that had been indicated as her place even yesterday, she lowered herself quietly next to the fireplace, in which the remains of the logs smoldered.Thoughts flashed through her hungover head for a long time. Until the witch on the bed woke up. She lay there for a while. Then she got up and without even giving Hermione a glance, disappeared behind the bathroom door.Is that it, Mrs. Lestrange? Yesterday passion and madness, and today I can't even remember your name, you mudblood? Well, that's to be expected.Emerging from the bathroom only half an hour later, she was dressed in her black silk robe. Finally turning her attention to Hermione, she grinned.- Pet, are you alright? - she walked over and took the girl by the chin, as if she really was some kind of puppy.- What are you talking about?- You lick me at night and then sleep on the floor again in the morning?Blushing, but trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, Hermione replied.- Well you yourself pointed out that this is my place.Lestrange only smirked.- That's true, but... hmm, I actually like your approach.She retreated to the kitchen.What was that?Did that mean Hermione could follow her or not?I don't know what the hell she's talking about.Walking into the kitchen a couple minutes later, the girl found the mistress of the room at the table with a cup of coffee. She was reading the daily prophet. On the table were plates of toast, fried bacon, eggs and a kettle of tea.The witch raised her eyes to Hermione and said.- 'You want to eat. I'm not having breakfast.- I don't want to.- Well if you don't want to, fine.- I want to talk.- Oh, no. Not until I finish my coffee, you don't. My head's pounding, and you start giving me a hard time, and then I'm gonna kill you.- Oh, so you're not going to?- Uh, I don't know. Depends on how you behave. By the way...Hermione sighed doomfully.- You know what goes great with morning coffee when you read the news? - A smirk spread across her scarlet lips. - And a great hangover reliever... Come here. Closer.Hermione took the woman's hint perfectly. She'd done it before and liked it a lot, but that was under the influence of alcohol. Here they were completely sober. This was different. Embarrassment was taking over and her cheeks were flaming with a blush. Hermione stepped closer.- Give me your pretty face, pet. - she held out her hand and Hermione leaned in slightly. - Now, be a good girl. Just like you were yesterday. And maybe we can do without the torture again.*** They were lying on the bed again. The heavy breathing of both of them indicated an active start to the day. Bellatrix really wasn't selfish. Which was why Hermione was once again wet and with trembling legs.- What did you want to talk about?After numerous orgasms, the witch was not so intimidating and Hermione decided to ask what had been tormenting her.- Why didn't you just take me by force yesterday? Why all the foreplay and alcohol and everything else? It's not like you.- It's not interesting. When there's no mutual desire, no passion, no chemistry, it's not fun at all.- So you've tried it?- Raping people? Yes. But I like non-sexual violence. And sex is all about passion. Without it, it's bullshit.***There had been several such conversations during Hermione's captivity. Mostly after sex.- Why didn't you kill me?- Mm, good question, pet. I've been asking it myself. You know, if I had a bespectacled boy or a redhead in my custody, I'd give the first one to the Lord in a heartbeat, the second one I'd just kill. But you're-- you're pretty. Which means you're fuckable. You're also smart. You're smart enough not to piss me off the rest of the time. You know the line.***- None of this means anything to you, does it?- Yeah, you're right. It doesn't mean anything to me, so don't give me any bullshit. It's all about passion, sex and captivity. Nothing more.The rest of the time, the witches hardly spoke at all. They either spent their time in bed or Lestrange was off somewhere. Hermione didn't ask, only suspecting that the witch never left the manor and just went to see her sister.***Hermione never slept on the floor once. On the morning of the third day, she woke up to Bellatrix's foot on the floor and the witch almost hugging her. That's creepy, you know.At breakfast Bellatrix said:- "You'll be free tonight. You can go off and look for your friends and stuff like that. Just get away from here. He'll be back tonight. - Her emotions were impossible to count. It was like they didn't even exist. - I'll take you to the exit, you can transgress from there. The estate is protected, only he and I can transgress here.*** All in all, this day wasn't much different from theprevious ones. Except for the fact that there was a lot of sex today. And not just pleasure for Bellatrix. Hermione wondered how the witch's fingers hadn't fallen off yet, because she herself had been on them five times during the day. During her captivity, Hermione realized that she wasn't the only one who was starved for physical and mental satisfaction.***It was getting evening outside the window. The curtains were not fully drawn and the flaming sun was fading over the horizon as moans and hitched breaths echoed in the room.The moment Hermione was at her peak, Bellatrix pulled her against her, holding her by the throat with one hand while the other fucked her expiring pussy.- Are you going to tell your lousy friends the price you paid for your freedom? - The hoarse voice spoke directly into her ear, drowning out her own moans. - Will you tell them how much pleasure you took in licking me? And how many times the Death Eater, their worst enemy, cum on your face? Tell me, hmm?- N...no...aahhhh, no. No way. - Hermione couldn't breathe. Oh, God. She was going to come. And the voice kept going on.- Do you realize you'll never be as wet as you are with me? No one else will ever give you as much pleasure. N-i-c-t-t-o. - she kissed her neck, but then returned to her ear, licking it with the tip of her tongue and continuing - Because you're my dirty-blooded slut. Mine. Only mine.- W...va...ahhh.... God, fuck, yes...yours.- And when the redhead pokes you ineffectually with his cock, will you remember how you got on my fingers, how you begged me to let you cum? Will you, pet?- Yes, yes, I will, yes. - she gasped and pressed herself as close as she could to the witch's heated body. - I beg, I beg, aaah...x I'm going to cum, yes, yes, yes, yes god... - as the witch flexed her fingers inside her, she fell into an abyss of orgasm, an abyss of cosmic pleasure. Bellatrix pressed her so hard against her in these moments, so close. When Hermione's muscles clenched uncontrollably around the witch's fingers at breakneck speed. And she herself tried to press closer, to dissolve, to become one.***They walked through the empty, dark and cold corridors of the manor that evening. Silently. Lestrange walked ahead, her heels echoing off the walls and high ceilings. Just before the exit, Bellatrix stopped. She pulled Hermione's wand out of her left boot and held it out to her.The girl hesitated heavily. She stared at her weapon and at the hand that was handing it back in a parting gesture. The witch's face expressed nothing. Totally blank eyes. Without a single spark. As if the flame in her had never been there. And never would be again.- Just like that? That's it?- You want more cruciatus? Or maybe an avada? Fall at my feet to say good-bye? - You sounded nothing but cold.- The latter sounds tempting. - Hermione tried to grin.- Only for perverts like you. - Lestrange rolled her eyes. Her face remained unreadable. - 'Get out of here.- No.Hermione took her wand, and afterward, traveled the distance between them and burrowed one hand into the thick dark curls. One look upward and she reached up to the most desirable lips in the world, covering them in a kiss. She had a feeling she was about to be hurled to the floor by a wave of magic. But that didn't happen. She kissed her herself, desperately, deeply, knowing it was the last time she would touch the witch. The last kiss with the man she would return to fight against in the war beyond these walls. With a man more desirable than she would ever meet again.She could not interrupt it. It seemed that even if the air ran out, she would sooner die than break away from the witch. She bit her plump lips, begging, pleading with her to show her answering passion and desire. But Bellatrix answered coldly and reservedly, rather doomed. It was as if in that instant she had become Narcissa. With ice in her eyes and in her heart.The kiss was interrupted by the older witch. She hissed in pain and grabbed her left wrist with her right hand.That could only mean one thing. He had returned.A thousand emotions mingled in her onyx-colored eyes. She stared into the hazel eyes opposite for exactly three seconds. And it was a look Hermione would remember for the rest of her life.- Go away. - Bellatrix said and in the next instant disappeared on the spot.Hermione walked out the door and transgressed. Ahead of her was a long search for her friends and a return to the war. As well as practicing Legilimenship on her own, so that no one would ever know what had happened while she was a prisoner.