The Robber Bridegroom
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
8,308
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
8,308
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Wait
Title: Wait
Set: Grey
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: AU/AR
Summary: #17 – Wait. ‘I know I'm asleep, but I know this is real, and no one can help me here.’ ‘Deadliner’ by Gary Numan.
Word Count: 618 words.
Author's Notes: This set of drabbles is based off of ‘The Robber Bridegroom,’ and the original tale can be read here: http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm040.html
#17 – Wait
Hermione kept Ron’s lock of hair wrapped in a handkerchief and she carried it with her during the days that followed Viktor Krum’s visit. She waited to hear news of movement, more of her Master’s plan, but she heard nothing.
Two days after Viktor’s visit, her Master was gone again. Hermione waited to hear of his arrival again, or the arrival of guests, none came. With her extended liberties, she was allowed to read from the small library that had once belonged to Narcissa Malfoy. It was a library contained in a small closet like room off the bedroom, and most of the books were fiction. Besides tawdry romance novels, there were adventure novels. Hermione immersed herself in reading a book about a woman who used her low status as a king’s consort to rise in the court. Sex as a weapon.
In the years she spent in the dark, Hermione thought little about sex, at least, not in a positive light. Torture of the female captured often consisted of rape and molestation, but Hermione had been spared that brand of torture. She felt too dirty, literally, to ever indulge in anything remotely sexual. However, after so many weeks of living in the Manor and access to basic creature comforts, she had touched herself once. It was more an experiment to see if she could arouse herself. Hermione thought about Harry when she touched herself. She could not bear to think about Ron who had been her first. Harry had been her second, and it had been tender, not as awkward as with Ron.
To add to her arousal was her knowledge that Harry was still alive, or he was the night Ron was murdered.
It had been a night while her Master was gone that she brought herself to a silent climax with her own fingers.
Hermione wondered if her Master would touch her.
A week of being alone was brought to an end in the middle of the night while Hermione slept in his bed. His string of curses woke her as he stalked like a shadow in black cloak and mask to the lavatory. The door was slammed shut and the sound of running water drowned out his voice.
The lamps lit as Hermione sat up and Aniel appeared at the foot of the bed, seemingly agitated.
“Keep very quiet, do not ask questions,” the elf whispered urgently, Charming the bed down for the Master, and Vanishing the trail of blood on the wood floor—bloody bootprints. “Master is angry, and he will try for you to ease his ire.”
Hermione blinked as Aniel quickly cast Freshening Charms, stoked the fire in the fireplace on the wall opposite the lavatory. Then the elf hopped onto the bed, moving its gnarled fingers over Hermione. Magic tickled her skin under the night shift she wore, and then the shift was gone.
More magic trickled over her bare skin, into her body, and Hermione shuddered at the sensation.
“No children,” the elf muttered brusquely. “Not until the Master decides what more to do with you!”
Hermione stared pointedly at the elf, and the elf stared back. There was something in the elf’s eyes that Hermione was beginning to understand…
The door banged open, and Hermione gasped, not realizing how many minutes had passed and that Aniel was gone.
Her Master was nude, erect, and dripping water onto the floor. His face was a mask of anger that made Hermione clutch her blankets to pull them higher over her body.
“You will prove your worth now, girl,” he growled.
She had been waiting for this…
He tried for her, and took her, and Hermione swallowed his anger for him.
Set: Grey
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: AU/AR
Summary: #17 – Wait. ‘I know I'm asleep, but I know this is real, and no one can help me here.’ ‘Deadliner’ by Gary Numan.
Word Count: 618 words.
Author's Notes: This set of drabbles is based off of ‘The Robber Bridegroom,’ and the original tale can be read here: http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm040.html
#17 – Wait
Hermione kept Ron’s lock of hair wrapped in a handkerchief and she carried it with her during the days that followed Viktor Krum’s visit. She waited to hear news of movement, more of her Master’s plan, but she heard nothing.
Two days after Viktor’s visit, her Master was gone again. Hermione waited to hear of his arrival again, or the arrival of guests, none came. With her extended liberties, she was allowed to read from the small library that had once belonged to Narcissa Malfoy. It was a library contained in a small closet like room off the bedroom, and most of the books were fiction. Besides tawdry romance novels, there were adventure novels. Hermione immersed herself in reading a book about a woman who used her low status as a king’s consort to rise in the court. Sex as a weapon.
In the years she spent in the dark, Hermione thought little about sex, at least, not in a positive light. Torture of the female captured often consisted of rape and molestation, but Hermione had been spared that brand of torture. She felt too dirty, literally, to ever indulge in anything remotely sexual. However, after so many weeks of living in the Manor and access to basic creature comforts, she had touched herself once. It was more an experiment to see if she could arouse herself. Hermione thought about Harry when she touched herself. She could not bear to think about Ron who had been her first. Harry had been her second, and it had been tender, not as awkward as with Ron.
To add to her arousal was her knowledge that Harry was still alive, or he was the night Ron was murdered.
It had been a night while her Master was gone that she brought herself to a silent climax with her own fingers.
Hermione wondered if her Master would touch her.
A week of being alone was brought to an end in the middle of the night while Hermione slept in his bed. His string of curses woke her as he stalked like a shadow in black cloak and mask to the lavatory. The door was slammed shut and the sound of running water drowned out his voice.
The lamps lit as Hermione sat up and Aniel appeared at the foot of the bed, seemingly agitated.
“Keep very quiet, do not ask questions,” the elf whispered urgently, Charming the bed down for the Master, and Vanishing the trail of blood on the wood floor—bloody bootprints. “Master is angry, and he will try for you to ease his ire.”
Hermione blinked as Aniel quickly cast Freshening Charms, stoked the fire in the fireplace on the wall opposite the lavatory. Then the elf hopped onto the bed, moving its gnarled fingers over Hermione. Magic tickled her skin under the night shift she wore, and then the shift was gone.
More magic trickled over her bare skin, into her body, and Hermione shuddered at the sensation.
“No children,” the elf muttered brusquely. “Not until the Master decides what more to do with you!”
Hermione stared pointedly at the elf, and the elf stared back. There was something in the elf’s eyes that Hermione was beginning to understand…
The door banged open, and Hermione gasped, not realizing how many minutes had passed and that Aniel was gone.
Her Master was nude, erect, and dripping water onto the floor. His face was a mask of anger that made Hermione clutch her blankets to pull them higher over her body.
“You will prove your worth now, girl,” he growled.
She had been waiting for this…
He tried for her, and took her, and Hermione swallowed his anger for him.