Tortured Soul

Tortured Soul

Authors Note: This story is in response to a challenge set by Harry85, of which there are quite a few decent responses too, entitled `Death Eater Hermione'. The guidelines outlined for the challenge can be viewed here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26459 .

I ensure to serve this challenge justly and hope that all of you, especially Harry85, gain some level of enjoyment out of it. Oh, and forgive any errors - I'm rather lacking a Beta at this stage.

Respect to all you other `delusional' shippers out there: JK, bless her, is the delusional one, not us -shame on the emotionally shallow (canon) shippers of H/G and R/H! ;)

We have it right and we know it!

WARNINGS: Suggestive/mild torture/violence, scenes of a consensual sexual nature, strong abrasive language (more frequent in later chapters) and a possible character death (yet to be decided).

Chapter I - Hastily Drawn Judgement

Harry removed the blade from deep within the lifeless body of Lucius Malfoy, closing the defeated Death Eaters gaping silver eyes almost reverently at the same time. He covered Lucius' face with a sheet and sighed. Placing his hand over the dead man's chest, he shut his eyes and began muttering a sequence of incantations. He removed his hand to reveal the image of a golden Phoenix, its wings spread wide across a white lightning bolt - his calling card; a message to the other Death Eaters that Harry Potter, the `Chosen One', had once more retired one of their number from their Dark Lord's ranks.

Wiping the bloody blade on Lucius' green robe, he then straightened up, placing it back into its scabbard beneath his cloak and made his way towards the exquisitely furbished vestibule of Malfoy Manor. Reaching the door, he barely touched his black gloved hand to the glistening silver, when he froze, his gaze drawn to the sculptured serpents head. His ears twitched as he took a deep breath, listening... waiting.

He wasn't alone.

Matte green walls did not shimmer like the one in the door knob reflection did. He had assumed that Lucius was alone when he stealthily broke into the well protected Manor. Now, however, his only assumption was that he had been mistaken and perhaps recklessly hasty in his judgement.

Harry heard nothing, but his honed senses told him that whoever, or whatever, it was had stopped short of the fireplace, conceivably aware that he, too, was now aware. Fortunately, he was neither the type to become unnerved nor make any further rushed decisions; he whirled around vigilantly, temporarily subduing any sudden movements that might startle his pursuer into becoming more aggressive. After all, if they had wanted to take him out, they would have already. The upper hand was undeniably the one belonging to them - not to mention the one, undoubtedly, training a wand at the back of his head.

Conceding, he steadily raised his head, hands spread, illustrating visibly that he held no weapon and thoughtfully eyed the iridescent outline of his would-be opponent, allowing a wry smile to grace his chiselled features.

“Not without sharply endowed powers could you have so silently evaded my wards and senses,” he summarised earnestly. “I'm impressed.”

Receiving no response, he continued. “I rather think that your Disillusionment charm could have been more aptly applied though. Then again, maybe we were both a little hasty in our prudence? The best of can make errors once in a while...” he trailed off and inclined his head sideways upon noticing that his adversaries charm was beginning to wear off and smiled wearily when they made no move to replenish it.

Remaining in his fixed position he looked on, intrigued at what was flickering into view before his eyes. Raising an eyebrow and suppressing the urge to catch his breath, he simply gazed at the woman that finally merged back in with the garish surroundings.

A thing of beauty stood before him, dark and foreboding as her glowering visage and black attire was, and he couldn't help but spare her more than a few moments of his limited time to take as much in as was safely possible; from her dark chocolaty eyes down to her slightly haphazard brown locks, he found her to be immeasurably captivating - and perhaps more, were it not for the wand she had aimed steadily at his heart. Regaining his temporary lapse of sensibility as the Death Eater adjusted the grip on her wand, he regarded her curiously; she couldn't have been much old than he was.

“Congratulations. You've successfully cornered me, now what should be your next move?” he challenged quietly. Upon being met with yet further silence and, he noted with interest, a distinct lack of determination in both her stance and glare, he took a languid step forward.

“Stay where you are!” she commanded tensely.

Harry halted, a little taken aback that she had spoken. “So she does have something to say...” he said, attempting to gauge her reaction speed. “Now that we've discovered a voice, would you care to enlighten me as to what your intentions are?” His question was laced with an odd knit of both calamity and sweetness, underlining faint patronising undertones, to which the Death Eater found none too welcome.

He knew, however, that to underestimate this young - and striking - Death Eaters' prowess, nervous as she was, would be foolhardy. Presuming that her distance both physically and emotionally was simply a ruse to lure him into a sense of falsehood regarding her true skill, he concluded that one wrong move and she might just have him on his back and disarmed within seconds. Without her realising it, however, Harry had recognised her ploy and he wholeheartedly intended to call her bluff. This thought made him smile secretively as he took another step forward, her wand still directed firmly at him.

“I told you to stay where you are,” she hissed and Harry detected a barely noticeable fault in her words.

“And I asked you what your next move was to be, yet you continue to ignore me, as I am you,” Harry murmured stoically. Taking another step, he raised his hands higher and wiggled his fingers to reaffirm his lack of armament, as she directed her wand to his head warningly.

“A little childish, don't you think?” she assessed, “Especially when I'm the one pointing the wand at you, Harry Potter.”

Smirking, Harry narrowed his eyes and inclined his head in a mock congratulatory fashion and moved again. “Indeed, a justified observation from your perspective,” he smirked, “but foolish nonetheless.”

The Death Eaters wand arm faltered and she blinked rapidly, her tone noticeably unsure as she pinned him with an intense gaze. “Oh? And how did you come to that conclusion, Potter?”

A perplexed expression quickly crossed her face before she gasped audibly as a wand pressed into the base of her neck, and the Harry Potter she had been keeping a watchful eye on, flickered and then vanished altogether.

“Because I think you'll find it's the other way around.”

Harry forced his wand deeper into her neck and whispered, “You won't be needing that anymore.”

Dumbfounded, the Death Eater dropped her wand instantly. “H-How did you do that?”

Harry silently paralysed her before walking around to stand in front of her. “Magic,” he said and bent down to collect her wand. “You made a vital mistake, Miss-” he reached behind her neck and smirked as he leaned in close, spotting a name label, “-Hermione Granger of Durmstrang.” Just as he had suspected; she was wearing school robes. His breathy voice washed over her ear and he noticed her shudder despite being unable to move, a sure sign if he had ever seen one that she may have it in her to break the spell. Inhaling, he caught the scent of something flowery and spiced as he pulled away completely and checked her wand. “For all your procrastination, you gave me the chance to create an illusionary copy of myself as I moved, silently apparating to a more beneficial vantage point,” he pocketed her wand and sighed in faux despair. “Perhaps I was, yet again, too hasty in commending your skill before I saw enough evidence.”

Directing his wand at Hermione once more, he levitated her silently and strolled toward the exit of Malfoy Manor and made his way into the courtyard, being careful to mind his capture's head on the trestle overhang.

Without another word, he wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist before apparating without a sound and without a trace.

End Note: Short, I know, but I generally set my stories up with short chapters. Next instalment will come soon - and longer.

Peace and Harmony,

Alexus Dracius

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Snippet of what's to come:

“Fucking Death Eater filth...” Harry hissed as he vented his frustration out on a lone vase. As it shattered he felt a small sense of unjustified victory. He had had the upper hand against that vase... and against Hermione bloody Granger, however, he had taken it out on the vase yet let the beautiful Death Eater get to him and his `feelings' too quickly. “Probably sees you as a bit of a walk over now, Potter... sympathising with the enemy so fucking blatantly... room service and your bed...” he seethed, unable to believe how he could have been so foolish.

That would have to change during their next meeting, he decided, no Death Eater deserved that kind of warmth... no matter how hot he felt in her presence, it was definitely time to turn down the heat...

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Tortured Soul

Authors Note: Next chapter as promised. Thank you all for the reviews! It's highly appreciated! Enjoy!

Respect to all you other `delusional' shippers out there: JK, bless her, is the delusional one, not us -shame on the emotionally shallow (canon) shippers of H/G and R/H! ;)

We have it right and we know it!

WARNINGS: Suggestive/mild torture/violence, scenes of a consensual sexual nature, strong abrasive language (more frequent in later chapters) and a possible character death (yet to be decided).

Chapter II - Verbing the Noun

Harry levitated Hermione through the door of one of the bedrooms at Grimmauld Place, setting her down lightly onto the bed. Cancelling the spell, he waved his wand again to bind her to the bed securely and then flicked his wrist to release her from paralysis. Immediately she began to struggle and scream, so Harry placed a silencing charm over the room to give some privacy.

Harry walked over to the bed and sat on its edge, fixing Hermione with an even stare.

“You'll gain nothing by cursing my very existence, Hermione,” He reached over and placed a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her violent thrashing around. “I want you to calm down. Now.” With a firm squeeze on her shoulder she stopped, but continued to glare at him hatefully.

“Fuck you, Potter, the moment the Dark Lord realises I'm gone he'll come for me - and you,” she spat, a contrast to her earlier, somewhat meek attempt to battle him.

Harry just stared at her unwaveringly and then stood up. “Your Dark Lord has no idea where we are. You have no idea where you are. I couldn't even tell you where we are exactly. This building has been subjected to some of the most powerful wards and charms our world currently has to offer, so much so, that memory of its location is siphoned from memory while inside,” Harry explained jadedly and Hermione looked on intently, as though taking in every word, her spiteful expression lost. Harry then knelt down next to her until their faces were a foot apart. “So, not only would your Dark Lord Voldemort never be able to find wherever here is - even if he happened across it one day while taking a midnight stroll with a few of his pets - he'd find curses and jinxes so foul, even with his power, he couldn't hope to counter them.”

Harry gazed deeply Hermione's eyes and she seemed to have a hard time tearing hers away. With a small frown and a sigh, Harry stood up, looking down at his hostage.

“So, let us cease our promises of a Dark Lord's repentance and ultimate vengeance at the loss of one of his most trusted and loyal Death Eater's,” he said derisively and Hermione scowled at his insinuation, “and instead, why don't you try and get some sleep. Is the bed comfortable enough?” he inquired as though asking casually if the sun were hot enough. He was met with a stony silence, as expected. “Good, because you're going to need a good rest for tomorrow's activities, Granger. I have a few questions I need to ask, but right now I'm tired, and I see that you are too.” He marched to the door and opened it. “If you require anything - anything that constitutes as a basic Wizarding Right, anyway - then just tap the wall beside you three times and I'll know. Good night, Hermione Granger.”

With that he left a slightly gawking Hermione on her reasonably sized bed, in her reasonably sized room which was dressed in more than reasonably priced décor.

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The following day found a well rested Harry Potter sat at the large oak table in the kitchen of a location he couldn't quite put a name to, pouring over a list of known-to-be deceased Death Eaters, as he awaited the arrival of the rest of the Order.

He sighed as he added the name `Lucius Malfoy' and glanced at the clock. “Nine-thirty.”

They wouldn't arrive for another half an hour, so he rolled up the parchment, stowed it away inside his finely pressed robes and made his way to the second floor.

Upon reaching a door marked `Harry J Potter', he muttered a string of spells and the door opened to reveal a slumbering Death Eater. Stepping into the room and closing the door, he crossed the room to the bed and took his chance to stare at the splendour before him.

It was apparent that Hermione had slept quite restfully, her expression fairly contented considering her predicament. Studying her face, he memorized the fullness of her lips, the length of her dark lashes and the shade of her olive skin. She truly was a sight to behold.

“But a Death Eater, nonetheless,” he reminded himself. The previous night when he had been looking into those brown orbs so intently, he had seen enough facts to suggest that this Death Eater was far more than she appeared to be. Her mind was not shrouded in bleak, aggressive darkness, nor did it seem to generate the `red mist', as he had dubbed it, that other Death Eaters produced when looking at him. No, this girl was definitely something special, and he had made it his task to discover why she fit so poorly, the building blocks of an average Death Eater.

Confused, unaware of what she had gotten herself into, manipulated into believing this was her true following... whatever is was, the emotions he had managed to glimpse of her memories and morals, did not fit the bill at all.

Maybe she could be saved...

“What the hell are you staring at?”

Harry blinked and his heart leapt in surprise at her voice. Regaining his balance, both in mind and body, he caught Hermione's accusing glare, drilling into him heatedly. Perhaps he should still exercise a lot of caution - she may be twisted by the wrong persuasions, but she still had considerable power... and feisty attitude to match.

“I came to see if you were hungry,” Harry stated and Hermione gave him a disbelieving look. “Don't look so stunned, Hermione, I'm not about to let you starve. As far as I'm concerned, you're Death Eater status is only secondary to your rights as a human being. I'm cruel only when I have to be,” Hermione removed her eyes from his and stared at her feet, as though... ashamed? “So, aside from warning you not to get any bright ideas while labouring under the illusion that I'm going to be soft on you, would you perhaps like something to eat? I can have my House Elf make anything you fancy.”

Hermione's gaze returned to his instantly, frowning. She seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle with herself. “You have a House Elf...” she said absently, more for her own benefit than Harry's, to which Harry responded with a raised eyebrow. “I- yes, a fried breakfast would be... fine, thank you.”

Harry kept his eyes on her, a little taken aback at her politeness and, what appeared to be, slight disdain at the thought of him having a House Elf.

“Very well,” Harry said and clicked his fingers sharply, instantly calling to service an old, tired looking, yet happy House Elf. The House Elf bowed and then glanced at Hermione, who stared back. “Kreacher, I'd like you to cook Miss Granger here a fried breakfast, please. Everything on it, and make it generous. She's going to need her strength today.” He noticed when Hermione blanched a little at his words, but hid it well when she caught his eye.

“As you wish, Master Potter... is you not dining with the Miss, too?” Kreacher asked. “You really should, Master, a lot of strength for the day is your best kept ally, after all,” Kreacher practically admonished.

“No, no. I'm quite all right thank you, Kreacher. Just for Miss Granger.”

Still not entirely appeased, the Elf disappeared with a faint pop and Harry turned back to Hermione who had a small smile on her face.

“He- the Elf, I mean, is very loyal,” Hermione said quietly, avoiding his eyes, as she realised her mistake. “And you're very kind to... it - why?” she closed her eyes, as though berating her lack of indecency towards a creature of `near human intelligence'. Her licentiousness was more than enough to make Harry's blood simmer, however.

“`It'...” Harry repeated in disgust. “Being kind to a House Elf... a living being not worthy of a wizard's precious time or respect?” Harry said indiscernibly, his eyes glimmering, and Hermione looked up at him uncertainly. “Tragic isn't it? Perhaps I should kick him around, scream at him and beat him for doing everything and more that I ask of him?” Harry crouched down, leaning toward Hermione and muttered, “Kreacher is my House Elf, yes, but also my friend and companion. He has the right to leave whenever he chooses and also the right to money, clothes and free speech. Does that grate on your oh so delicate and superior nerves, Death Eater?” Harry whispered harshly, his eyes burning. Hermione flinched both at his tone - which he had yet to direct at her so far - and his words. When Hermione did nothing but gather her composure and stubbornly stare at the bed did he shake his head in sudden revulsion and stand up.

“Your breakfast will arrive momentarily,” he said shortly and waved his wand, releasing her upper body from it binds. “Don't even think to attempt wandless magic - I've blocked your magical signature throughout the entire house. You'll only cause yourself unnecessary agony.”

Eyeing Harry with a stony glare, Hermione kept her mouth firmly closed. Little time passed until Hermione had begun to dig into her meal relatively fast. Harry took his leave in silence to get ready to meet the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, feeling very much aware that the odd connection he had felt with this particular Death Eater previously had now dwindled into something a little above hatred and pity.

She would receive the same treatment as the others... especially during the interrogation after his meeting.

“Fucking Death Eater filth...” Harry hissed as he vented his frustration out on a lone vase. As it shattered he felt a small sense of unjustified victory. He had had the upper hand against that vase... and against Hermione bloody Granger, however, he had taken it out on the vase yet let the beautiful Death Eater get to him and his `feelings' too quickly. “Probably sees you as a bit of a walk over now, Potter... sympathising with the enemy so fucking blatantly... room service and your bed...” he seethed, unable to believe how he could have been so foolish.

That would have to change during their next meeting, he decided, no Death Eater deserved that kind of warmth... no matter how hot he felt in her presence, it was definitely time to turn down the heat.

Upon reaching the Kitchen, Harry collapsed into a chair, unaware that the object of his forbidden affections was scolding her own attitude in much the same manner.

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It wasn't long before the Order arrived, shaking off the cold weather outside and damning various Dark Wizards to Hell. Harry engaged the likes of Remus Lupin and Tonks with a hug and a warm smile, while shaking the hands of Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Elphias Doge, Sturgis... something - Harry was finding it hard to remember names, his thoughts drifting back to the Death Eater upstairs. Gathering his thoughts he turned to the next Order member and simply stared at the man before him.

“Professor Snape,” he greeted stiffly, nodding his head.

“Potter, I hardly think the term professor is necessary now that you have, should I say, abdicated your erstwhile Golden Boy position at Hogwarts. You have no business addressing me as anything other than Severus. But that does not mean I have any greater like for you,” Snape said silkily.

“Merlin forbid...” Harry uttered sardonically but allowed for a small smile before moving on to greet everyone else, including Mr and Mrs Weasley. Severus Snape, although still just as cold as ever, had proven his worth in Harry's eyes upon discovering the dangerous lengths he went to for their cause. He may have been a bastard, and a bitter one at that, but Harry knew that they couldn't do without his courage in the field or influence over Voldemort's subjects. Not to mention his high standing in the Death Eater ranks - he would do him the favour he deserved of calling him by his first name, if he so wished.

After greeting Arthur and Molly - who told him that Ron and the others would arrive shortly - Harry called upon Kreacher, who appeared with an empty tray of food and a furtive glance toward Harry.

Remus, always the one quickest to sense something out of place raised an eyebrow at Harry. “What's going on, Harry?” he enquired, frowning as Kreacher banished the tray quickly, shooting an apologetic look at Harry, to which Harry just smiled wryly.

“Kreacher, would you be so kind as to offer refreshments around, please,” Harry said.

“Of course, Master, immediately,” Kreacher bowed and began preparing a small buffet-style lunch.

“Thank you,” Harry said and turned to the rest of the group. “Okay, if you'd all like to take a seat and make yourselves comfortable...” Harry moved to the head of the table and waited patiently for the group of ten witches and wizards to quieten down and seated. “Excellent,” he breathed as they all stared up at him, “To get started, I have an announcement regarding the status of Lucius Malfoy. I understand that many of you have been trying to track him for a while, and that he's been elusive as ever lately, but fortunately we can cease our search.” At this everyone straightened up expectantly.

Harry dug into his robes and produced a knife, laying out on the table before him.

“Lucius Malfoy, convicted Death Eater and right hand man to Lord Voldemort is dead,” Harry stated with satisfaction as they all gaped at him, dumbfounded. A few of them kept looking between Harry and the blade, slightly confused.

“How do you know?”

“Based on what evidence?”

A few people, it seemed, had not made the connection. Remus and McGonagall, however, had, and they were eying both the knife and Harry with a blend of incredulity and concern.

“Mr Potter, are you saying...?” McGonagall began, but Harry cut her off.

“What I'm saying, is that last night I received an anonymous tip off that Lucius had returned to his Manor, an unwise mistake if there ever was one, and made my way there immediately. I had no time to contact any of you, not knowing when he would leave again and lose my chance. He resisted, naturally, when I found him, but he seemed weak and fatigued for reasons I'm not sure of. I attempted to capture him, but my wand refused to work - I was quite sure that while a Malfoy resided in the house, no external bloodline could perform magic - so I had to resort to using this,” he held up the knife to make his point clear and everyone gasped.

Harry Potter had, although being forced to, murdered a high ranking Death Eater in cold-blood.

“You- you stabbed him?” Elphias stuttered in astonishment. Harry nodded.

“Just the twice: once to sever his spine, once through the chest. Sirius taught me...”

Instantly, the room was filled with loud voices, all either reprimanding him for not alerting them at once or, expressing their mild bemusement that he had plunged a knife into the body of another human being - after all, they were magical, and the only way they saw fit to harm someone was with spells. Throughout the commotion, Harry remained defiant as he sat down.

“Enough!” yelled Severus, rising out of his chair, his expression angry. He turned to Harry once the room regained silence. “You're telling us, that you followed a tip off from an unknown source and went gallivanting off into the night to Malfoy Manor, a known Death Eater Den, like some would-be hero, to capture Malfoy? Do you realise the danger you put yourself and the rest of in! That could quite easily have been a trap, Potter, a fucking ambush, specifically designed to play against your reckless impulses! You fool!”

Harry flinched and stood up quickly at his ex-Potion Master's tone, suddenly feeling infuriated, his seat flying back and hitting the stove, as Tonks latched onto Remus' arm pulling him down as he too rose out of his seat. Harry glared menacingly at everyone, who wholeheartedly seemed to agree with Severus, if not his methods, their expressions of disappointment clear to see.

An uncomfortable silence ensued as Harry's eyes dared someone to speak up. No one did.

“Perhaps it was reckless. Perhaps it was a stunt to capture or kill me, but it wasn't. Sometimes risks have to be taken; I'm not a child anymore, I'm not defenceless, even without a wand, and I refuse to believe,” Harry practically screamed at them all, slamming his fist onto the table, the lights flickering ominously, plates rattling, “THAT NONE OF YOU WOULDN'T HAVE DONE THE SAME!”

Everyone sat still, mouths shut, reluctant to agree with Harry as his gaze once again dared them to argue. Calming down with considerable swiftness, Harry leant forward on the table with his hands and the plates and lights settled.

“Next order of business,” he stated quietly, rubbing his scar agitatedly. “Infiltrating Malfoy Manor and dispatching of Lucius was not the only accomplishment yesterday,” he paused to gauge their reactions, noticing that they were still wary of his outburst and quite unimpressed by it, too. “We now have in our custody, a-”

Suddenly, there was a loud scream from upstairs, followed by falling footsteps as Ron and Ginny came bursting into the Kitchen, red in the face and panting heavily.

Ron clocked Harry and choked out, “Mate, there's a fucking Death Eater asleep in your room!”

Harry groaned, taking off his glasses and gripping the bridge of his nose as the room erupted in outrage and panic.

“Trust Ron...” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

End Note: Well there we go, second chapter is finished. The third chapter may be a little longer in the running - unfortunately, work and play don't mix in my world, so forgive the possible delay on the next chapter... I'd say either Sunday or Monday.

Peace and Harmony,

Alexus Dracius

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