Deliciously So... (Editing)

Trapped.


“...there is a sum of evil equal to the sum of good, the continuing equilibrium of the world requires that there be as many good people as wicked people... ”

Marquis de Sade



The tinkling of a bell above the door of Flourish and Blotts, significantly magnified by the shop’s eerie emptiness, announced the arrival of a customer. The customer in question was a breathtakingly beautiful man: long blonde hair, sensual lips, fair skin and icy grey, penetrating eyes; he carried a black cane with a silver serpent engraved on the handle.

One of the assistants stood staring at him, then quickly asked her colleague about him.

“Don’t go too close, luv; that’s Lucius Malfoy, that is. Aye, e’s got th’ looks o’ an angel, but e’s rot’en t’ th’ core. E’s been in Azkaban, that ‘un has. Captured at th’ Ministry when You-Know-Who returned. Stayed there over a year ‘til they released ‘im; was under th’ Imperius Curse so they say. Death Ea’er, if you ask me. Go on, ask ‘im if ‘e needs help then leave ’im be. Don’t go lookin’ fer trouble.”

Approaching the man, who was still looking around lazily, she said, “Good day, sir; how may I help you?”

“No need.” he replied over his shoulder, dismissing her with a wave of his hand before he started walking around the many bookcases, finally walking up the stairs to the second floor.

“Pity though, he’s really something to look at…” she commented, having returned to her friend.

“Like th’ Devil. Mark me words; no good will come from ‘im. ‘Is wife died, you know? God knows ‘ow…”

“You don’t say!”

“I do say, but if anyun’ asks, you ain’t ‘eard ‘owt from me. Right?!”

“Sure.”

“Dark times, these are… Don’t know who t’ trust… and it’s damn bad fer business; hardly anyun’ comes in anymo—”

“So don’t you think that makes it a good reason to work, ladies?” The manager interrupted, sneaking up on the two chatting women. “Gossip break over, get back to work. You go to the back room and see if we’ve got any new orders.”

The younger assistant blushed furiously, whilst the older one just grumbled, “We ain’t got no work to do. Orders we’ve seen t’ and th’ only person in th’ shop don’t need help, so why don’t you—” What the manager was supposed to do no one found out, for the woman was interrupted yet again, this time by the bell on the door. A young woman walked in, cheeks glowing from the wind, long brown hair slightly bushy. She walked towards the manager.

“Good morning, I—”

“Good morning, Miss Granger! Lovely to see you.”

The manager didn’t normally remember the names of his customers, but for her he made an exception. First of all, he hardly had any customers. Secondly, and the main reason, because she was one of his best customers. She would spend hours in here at a time, her eyes always twinkling.

“Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley not with you this morning?”

“No, they’re just taking a last look at the joke shop,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got the books you ordered.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll just take a look around.” And with that, she went up the stairs to the Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms sections.

Hermione Granger was quite happy that, although almost all of the shops in Diagon Alley were closed down, the bookshop remained open. Not that she was really in the mood for shopping: what with Dumbledore being dead and the whole of the Wizarding world terrified of Lord Voldemort’s attacks. It really came as no surprise that many preferred locking themselves in their homes and spending what little time they had left with their families. Even going into a bookshop gave Hermione little pleasure, but at least she knew she was doing something useful.

Harry and Ron and she had been on the run since Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Yes, she grimaced, they had escaped the Order, escaped their friends and family and were now getting the final things sorted before looking for the missing Horcruxes. They also had to go to Godric’s Hollow to visit the Potters’ grave.

She had decided to leave the boys in Fred and George’s joke shop - Fred and George knew what they were planning on doing and had decided not to stop them. After a lot of persuading, she had managed to earn the right to go to Flourish and Blotts’ alone. Yes, it was risky splitting up, but she didn’t want to spoil the last time she would see her two best friends laughing. Plus, she knew more hexes and spells than people ten years older than her. She had also remembered to bring one of the DA’s fake Galleons with her and give two to the boys as well, so if anything were to happen to any of them, they would be able to communicate easily.

She had ordered a tremendous amount of books on curses, jinxes, hexes, counter-curses, spells and incantations; anything that could help them. She was trying to find a book on Horcruxes, but she had no false hopes; she knew that the only copies would be in some Death Eater’s private library. She had no intention of going to ask for permission to borrow a book when she knew she’d be cursed to oblivion before even getting within two miles of the front door, simply for being a Muggle-born.

She had also been wondering who this R.A.B. could be. Her first thought had been Regulus. A. Black, but she’d quickly dismissed this theory. Sirius had repeated time and time again that his brother was too thick to be one of Voldemort’s most trusted Death Eaters (and she seriously doubted that even they knew the whereabouts of their master’s soul), and Harry’s description of the obstacles guarding the locket seemed to be more than enough to keep Regulus Black away.

She was pacing around some bookcases and looking around the empty shop – quite a novelty, before a person could hardly move for the crowd in here whereas now it was completely empty. A few years ago, when it had been packed to the brim with Gilderoy Lockhart’s fans, she had wished that it would be as empty as it was now. Such a pity it had actually happened. Losing herself in her thoughts, she continued to look absentmindedly at book titles, not noticing that someone was looking at her from behind.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the wall, face partially covered by a stack of books, and observing with interest who had just walked into the shop. Interest… Well, to put it a better way, he was wondering what the filthy whore of the golden trio was doing in Diagon Alley, all alone. It is as if she were looking for trouble. So much for being the smartest witch in Hogwarts! Filthy Mudblood. His expression darkened as he remembered her in the Department of Mysteries. I should have killed her there and then. No matter. She is here now and as no one is here to stop me, she is all mine. It is so deliciously ironic that the place we first met would be where she would die. Am I not charitable? Killing her here so she can be surrounded by the very things she loves above all others.

Hermione was just turning over a nasty-looking book on curses when she heard a familiar drawl behind her.

“My, my, Miss Granger… What is a young, innocent-looking Mudblood like yourself doing with a book like that?”

Her heart stopped. Upon turning round, she saw Lucius Malfoy smirking at her. She dropped the book with a loud thunk.

Oh god! She knew he had been released from Azkaban, but wasn’t expecting to meet him the one time she was alone. Not only had she found a Death Eater, who would loathe her for nothing more than her parentage and the fact that she was a living testament to the fact that being of pure blood did not ensure superior magical abilities, but she had managed to find the one sadistic bastard who had a personal grudge against her and her friends for sending him to prison. She took a step back.

“Honestly, I would have thought that you of all people would not treat books like this.” He smirked as he bent down and picked it up for her.

She started to slowly put her hand in her pocket, reaching for her wand…

“No, no. None of that… Accio wand." He caught her wand in his hand.

Hermione was staring at him, the first traces of panic beginning to take hold of her. She then remembered the galleon in her other pocket, but before she could even touch it, she heard, “Accio Galleon." Watching in horror as she was left totally unprotected against one of her worst enemies.

“You didn’t think I was unaware of these, did you?” he chuckled coldly, placing both wand and galleon in his inner robe. “Draco told me all about these. He even copied them to communicate with the Death Eaters that memorable night. You could say it is thanks to you that Dumbledore finally died,” he added and noticed with much satisfaction that the witch was crying.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

Bastard! she thought. Arrogant bastard! But he is also a very dangerous man, not to mention a murderer. Oh Circe! What can I do?! He has both my wand and the coin! I have to keep calm and think it over. I am alone with this man who will no doubt kill me; there are people downstairs, but even if they heard us or noticed something was wrong, they would be no match for a Death Eater. He has just got out of prison, so he wouldn’t do anything in front of witnesses, unless he killed them too, which he would do, without a moment's thought.

“When did we meet last? A year ago, perhaps? The Ministry ring any bells? I must thank you, and Potter of course, for handing me to the Dementors. It really was an unforgettable experience.” His gaze was now, unmistakably, full of loathing and vindictive fury.

Hermione turned on her heel and started to run away from the man. She had always been terrified of him, and now finding him in a deserted shop all by herself was just too much. She had to find Harry and Ron. But before she could get very far she was caught by a painfully strong grip around the waist, his other hand clamping over her mouth.

“Now, now, Miss Granger. I would have thought that even you would remember your manners,” he whispered in her ear. “Who has ever seen someone run away in the middle of a conversation?”

With that he pulled her behind a bookcase. She tried with all her might to break loose, but he was unbelievably strong. She started to really struggle now, pushing and pulling, but to no avail: he held her fast. Desperately, not knowing what else to do, she bit down hard on the hand over her mouth. He let out a yelp, but did not let her go. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her arms with his cane. “Stand still, you stupid girl!” he hissed.

Hermione was now crying even harder: she was trapped. He had restrained her arms with that bloody cane of his, and he had her wand and coin too. She was completely at his mercy, which, she was afraid to admit, was inexistent.

Lucius was trying to catch his breath. The little bitch put up quite a fight, and she actually bit me with that filthy mouth of hers! How dare she! She will pay… Oh, yes, Keeping a firm grip on his cane with his left hand, he extracted his wand with his right. “Muffilatio," he whispered, directing the spell at them. Then he cast a particular variation of the disillusionment charm, so they were now in a sound-proof bubble that made them invisible. Now no one but I will hear her screams.

“Well, Miss Granger, first thing’s first:” With that he slapped her face. “HOW DARE YOU BITE ME, YOU MUDBLOOD SCUM?!” Her lip was bleeding and the blood was mixing with the copious tears running down her cheeks. His smile was cruel. “No one can save you now.”

True, she was crying, and she was probably going to be killed, but she would at least go down fighting. “Yes, that’s right,” she said, whimpering slightly. “No one can save me because a fearsome Death Eater has me trapped. He is so powerful that he dare not face me unless I am unarmed and immobilised. Well, you’ve certainly proved your point, Malfoy! You’re too scared to face a seventeen-year-old girl, like you were too scared to face a group of kids at the Ministry last year! You’re nothing but a coward! A cruel and arrogant coward!”

“SILENCE,” he roared. “What would you know?! Hmmm?” he continued, starting to slap her again. “What would you know, you repulsive vermin?! You know nothing! Nothing! You keep parading yourself with Potter, too stupid to realize the danger you are in! And they say you’re the one with the brains? – Don’t make me laugh!”

“Tell me, what is it like to know you have been wrong for so many years? What went through that frizzy head of yours when Draco let the Death Eaters in? When Severus killed that decrepit fool: Dumbledore?! You trusted him, didn’t you? Just because he was a teacher.” He stopped to catch his breath. Her cheeks were burning, her lip was bleeding, she had tears running down, her eyes closed tightly, and her breath was coming out in ragged gasps, making her chest heave. She was trembling like a dried leaf.

He smirked “So much for Gryffindor courage,” he added softly.

With that, her head snapped up, and she spat in his face, saliva and blood dripping down his eyes. He wiped it away in disgust “Y-you say you d-don’t like my blood… we-well, at least it’s better than yours!”

“I am going to make you scream so hard that your lungs will burst out of your body!” he hissed, pressing his cane hard against her chest. He was really going to enjoy breaking her into little pieces and then kill her just to put her out of her misery. How many times could she resist the Cruciatus Curse? It would be interesting to find out…

It was then that he noticed something. In the struggle, her cloak had been torn away, and her blouse had come loose, revealing part of the bra covering her shapely breasts. Her skirt was also beginning to ride up, revealing creamy legs underneath… She had grown! She was already a young woman! Probably the little bitch was the favourite past time of Potter and the Weasley brat.

“My, my,” he whispered as her heaving chest continued rising and falling rapidly, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. Much to his astonishment, he felt himself getting hard. What in Merlin’s name is this?! I am aroused by a Mudblood? This is pure insanity! Why should I desire to soil myself with the likes of her? Ever since Narcissa died I have not lain with anyone nor felt the need to do so. It is possible I am simply intrigued by such a display of flesh, sordid as it may be. On the other hand, were I to partake in it, there would be nothing she could do to stop me. I must not forget that she is a Mudblood, and as such my inferior: it couldn’t even be classified as ‘rape’.

Hermione noticed to her horror that whilst staring at her, his cold eyes kept flicking over her breasts and legs. Along with the loathing, hate and revulsion, she saw something else in his eyes – lust . Oh Lord, he’s going to rape me.

“Yes, it would not really matter,” he said more to himself than to her as he started running a long soft finger over one of her cloth-clad breasts.

“No,” she gasped.

“Silence,” he hissed before ripping open her blouse, buttons scattering all over the floor. “My, my, Mudblood… You have become a woman…” he commented, grasping her roughly.

“No, please…” she begged weakly. “Not that…”

He observed her trembling, Poor thing. She is quite alluring, it is indeed a pity she is such an abomination, really; I might have even considered a more fulfilling relationship. Merlin, Azkaban must have really lowered my standards. After a beautiful trophy-wife like Narcissa, precious few can be considered her equal, particularly not this lowly female before me… But still, it would be one way of settling matters. The more I think of it the more it seems the perfect retribution: she has humiliated me, it seems only fair to reciprocate.

“Oh, Miss Granger, pray tell; what do you do with Potter and Weasely?” He enquired, his cold voice no more than a whisper. “Why on earth would they keep a Mudblood like you around? Perhaps you allow them to indulge themselves in your filthy body?” He yanked down her bra and pinched one of her nipples hard, smiling wickedly when she let out a whimper of pain. “Do they take pleasure in sullying themselves with your flesh?” He finally let go of his cane, and by carefully pressing his weight against her, was able to use both his hands to grope her buttocks.

“S-stop!” She pleaded, shaking in pure revulsion while his hands were travelling over her entire body.

“Or do they kiss your disgusting mouth, to keep you quiet, perhaps?” He licked her bloody lips and pressed his mouth against hers, prying it open, biting her lips when she wouldn’t part them, his tongue immediately exploring her crevice violently.

Hermione just stood there, too shocked to do anything but stare at the man who was continuing his ministrations, ignoring her disgust. She felt like vomiting, the whole situation was becoming too horrid to bear. He was biting her lips, pushing his tongue around her mouth, tasting her coppery blood. She had only kissed a few times, and this was certainly different from innocent school boys’ kisses: he was completely violating her! God, he’s suffocating me! Doesn’t he need to breathe?!

He started to move his hands around her body again, digging so roughly into her skin she could have sworn he was breaking the surface. Quite suddenly he pushed against her even more, knocking all the air out of her lungs. In this dazed state, she barely registered what she felt pressing on her lower abdomen. Oh no. Not that. God, no no no! This cannot happen! It can’t! Please, someone, anyone, help me! But she knew no one could. Her complete helplessness was maddening, but she didn’t know what to do! She could feel his hands taking hold of her thighs, as he started lifting her up with ease. It finally came to her, in a surprising moment of clarity, that the only way she would get away unscathed was if she did something herself. She could not try to break loose, as by now his hold on her was such that she couldn’t even reach the floor to generate any leverage for throwing him off. Her only chance of salvation was being able to get back either her wand or the galleon. If she could move her hands on him, even just for a second, she could reach inside his robes and retrieve them. But that would mean having to touch him… It may not even work but it was her last hope. Feeling quite disgusted, wondering if it was really the only way, she took a deep breath and moved her hands to his neck, and to back up her pretence, she started kissing him back.

Lucius was outraged when he felt two small tentative hands resting on his neck, but then she had started kissing him! But she didn’t stop there: she started moving her hands up and down his chest too. She was acting like a pure wanton, as if she were enjoying his actions! How dare she! As if, in any other situation, I would touch her! But for some unexplainable reason he did not stop her, incited even more to bringing about her ruin. He moved one of his hands to her waist; with the other hand, he reached for her knickers, attempting to pull them down, though there was hardly any room for such a move. In the end, with an infuriated growl, he ripped them off.

She let out a hiss of pain as she felt the elastic snap, and having understood the urgency of her plight she hastened her search. Moving her hands from his chest to his inside pockets, she inadvertently rubbed her breasts against his chest in the process. She was grasping around his cloak, and, just when she was just beginning to lose hope, she found both wand and coin. She grabbed at them frantically, breaking off the kiss as she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the man in front of her.

Lucius Malfoy was busy trying to catch his breath. He gathered his wits and finally managed to understand why Granger was in possession of her wand and was pointing it at his throat. He realized, with regret, that he had dropped his wand whilst attempting to get more physical contact between himself and the Mudblood. How could I have been such a fool?! He thought angrily.

“Listen to me, Malfoy,” she started, trying to keep her voice calm. “I want you to put me down now and step away two paces or I swear to God, I will hex you!”

“You really are a whore, Granger!” He spat while carefully following her instructions. “To use your body like that.”

“Your insults mean nothing to me. I think it’s much worse torturing and killing people because of unfounded prejudices. Now, I have sent for help. You either leave now, or I shall disarm you and bind you here until they haul you back to Azkaban, and somehow I doubt you will get away this time. Leave, now!” She could tell he was weighing up the two options. She hadn’t yet been able to call anyone, but she hoped he wouldn’t call her bluff.

He could easily take care of the girl the moment he reached for his wand; still, if she had alerted any of her companions, matters would prove to be more complicated. True, any would-be rescuers wouldn’t be able to see or hear them, but if the place was swarming with members of the Order, he wouldn’t be able to leave either. They could even find them if they had that dratted Moody, with that bloody magical eye of his, with them. And then he would be flying high on a broom with no handle. He would have to leave her…but he would make her pay.

“Well, until we meet again, Miss Granger,” He picked up his cane, pulled out his wand and said, “Finite Incantatem”. Then, as he was walking away, he turned and said, “Rest assured that next time, I will finish the job.” Going down the stairs, he held his cloak closed in order to hide his erection. He exited the shop and disapparated just outside the doorway.

Hermione slumped against the wall, heart beating wildly. She was safe and still alive. Looking down at herself, she could see she was in a frightful state – clothes ripped and in disarray, hair wilder than ever before, and her underwear torn. She muttered, “Reparo,” to repair her blouse and undergarments. She then wiped away the blood on her lips, took out a pocket mirror, and found herself looking at a girl who had been trampled by a stampede of Hippogriffs. After muttering a few quick spells to straighten herself up, she bound down the stairs, grabbed her books, threw money onto the counter, and left the shop, practically running until she got to the joke shop where she found her two best friends. Now she was truly safe.

“Wow, Hermione! That was quick! We thought we would have to drag you out,” Ron said cheekily.

“You all right?” asked Harry, looking concerned.

“Oh, yes! No problems… So, shall we stop off at the Leaky Cauldron?”

“You’re on!” they both said, grinning.

Although she was smiling, Hermione could not stop thinking of how that man had touched and kissed her, of what he had been about to do to her. How could anyone treat another person like that? How could he have tried to do that to her?! She shuddered slightly while imagining what would have happened had she not been able to get her wand back. She had been lucky today; she knew she would not get off so lightly were it to ever happen again.

Author's Note: Before writing chapter 17, I am editing all of the previous ones thanks to my new betareader Sempra. I'm sorry for the wait.