Her breasts were still somewhat enlarged from the fertility potion. He grabbed her left breast and squeezed it hard as he drew closer, so that their bodies were almost pressed against each other. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in. He smelled sour from wine. Drunk.
"You were supposed to have been mine, you know," he said, stepping back slightly to look her over again. "I was the one who caught you when you attacked at Sussex. When I saw you standing under a sky full of burning dementors — I wanted to fuck you right there in that field." His grip on her breast tightened as he spoke, his fingers digging into the flesh. If Hermione could have moved at all she would have been gasping from pain. "That was how I earned my Mark, you know, catching you. My exceptional service to the Dark Lord. When I saw you at Sussex, I recognised you from the cave. Remember how I told you I'd ask to have you. I was the one who reminded the Dark Lord about you for the breeding program. He said you'd be mine. But then he changed his mind and gave you to Malfoy."
Montague hissed and twisted her breast hard in his hand. "Fucking Malfoy gets everything. But I owe you so much pain for stabbing me with those poisoned knives, I'm not going to let him get in my way. I've been fantasising about this for so long. I even bought a pensieve, just so I could watch you kneeling in front of me and unbuttoning my trousers as many times as I wanted."
Hermione would have been shaking if she could move. She didn't know what Montague was talking about, but she recognized the sound of cruel and obsessive revenge in his tone. He smiled at her and placed the tip of his wand against her forehead.
"We don't want Malfoy to come interrupt our fun now, do we? Confundo."
Hermione's mind blurred as the immobilising hex was removed and she collapsed into his waiting arms.
Chapter 19
Warning: this chapter contains attempted sexual assault, gore, and eye trauma.
There was some—
Something isn't right about this, Hermione thought as she was pushed against the hedge and her dress was ripped open.
Cold.
Cold air was on her.
Teeth were on her throat. It hurt.
She didn't like it.
She tried to push away but her hands were shoved roughly aside and then she felt teeth against her breast a moment before they bit down.
Hard.
She was crying — she thought.
Fingers were between her legs and stabbing into her. Poking her violently.
She tried to pull her legs closed but something lodged itself in between them.
So she couldn't.
She didn't think—
This wasn't supposed to—
The hedge was scratching her. Stabbing into her back.
Fingers kept digging inside her and teeth kept biting her shoulders and breasts.
Then she was on the ground.
She could feel the gravel of the path under her hands.
Sharp, cold little rocks.
Something — she didn't want.
It was about to happen.
She just—
She wasn't sure what.
Was it something to do with Malfoy?
A man was kneeling between her legs. Montague.
She stared up at him. Glazed.
Her fingers were twitching; clawing through the gravel.
He leaned down toward her.
His face was very close to hers.
Maybe he was going to tell her a secret.
Something was prodding her between her legs.
She felt she should know what — but she couldn't remember.
Something that wasn't supposed to happen.
A secret.
From Malfoy.
But — she didn't want to.
Malfoy would know — if she had a secret.
He was always in her head.
She tried to tell the man but she just cried instead.
Then suddenly the man was gone and there was a loud crashing noise.
She turned and found the man smashed into the wall of the manor.
Malfoy was kicking him so violently that there was a cracking sound.
Hermione sat up and watched.
Malfoy picked the man up by his throat and pulled him up the wall until they were eye-to-eye.
"How dare you? Did you think you'd get away with this, Montague?"
"You didn't seem to care about having her, Malfoy," Montague rasped. "I assumed you didn't mind sharing, seeing the way you let Astoria out to play. The Mudblood was supposed to be mine. You cut in line. I was the one who caught her. She was mine."
"She will never be yours." Malfoy sneered as he made a vicious stabbing motion and sliced through Montague's shirt and into his stomach.
Without hesitating, or lowering Montague from where he was holding him, Malfoy shoved his hand inside Montague's abdominal cavity and started pulling organs out and winding them around his fist.
Montague was screaming and thrashing.
Malfoy drew out a handful of intestines far enough that they glittered in the moonlight.
"If I ever see you again, I will strangle you with these," Malfoy said in a voice of deadly calm.
He dropped the intestines so that they hung down Montague's front like watch chains. Malfoy scourgified the blood and other fluids from his hand as he watched Montague stumble away, whimpering and sobbing and trying to stuff his intestines back inside his stomach.
Malfoy turned back toward Hermione. His face was white.
"You idiot — why — did you come out tonight?"
Hermione sat placidly in the gravel and stared at him wide-eyed.
She thought she should say something. But — she wasn't sure if she remembered what it was.
Something about Malfoy — she thought. That's what she meant to tell the man. Montague.
"Malfoy always comes for me," she whispered.
He stared at her, his jaw locked and his fists clenched for several seconds before he appeared to swallow something.
"What did he do to you?" he said in a low voice, kneeling down next to her.
He tried several counter-charms on her before suddenly one clicked and then, like ice-water, reality crashed down Hermione
A strangled sob ripped itself out of her throat and she wrapped her arms around herself. Her robes were shredded and she could feel the bite marks all over her body. She couldn't stop shaking.
Malfoy was kneeling beside her, utterly expressionless. He reached out slowly and took her arm.
"Let's get you cleaned up."
With a pop they reappeared in her room and he pushed her down to sit on the edge of her bed before turning and walking into the adjoining bathroom. There was a long silence before he re-emerged several minutes later, carrying a basin and wet cloth which he handed to her. Hermione had stopped sobbing and kept hiccoughing as she tried not to cry or hyperventilate.
Malfoy turned away and stared out the window while she tried to wipe off all the gravel and dirt sticking to the blood from the bites all over her. Some of them were so deep they were large crescents rather than tooth marks. She could feel the blood from them running down her torso in streams. Her hands were shaking so much she kept dropping the cloth into her lap.
She heard a hiss of irritation and Malfoy's hand suddenly snatched the cloth from her. She cowered back.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a tense voice as he sat down beside her on the bed. He reached out slowly and took her by the shoulders, turning to her toward him to appraise the damage.
His jaw clenched as he stared at her.
Moving slowly, as though she were a skittish animal, he started on her shoulders. Lightly wiping away the blood and then muttering the charms to heal the wounds. She tried not to flinch every time he touched her. He worked across her shoulders and then up her neck before turning to the worst ones; which were clustered on her breasts.