Warning: Torture, copious amounts of blood, madness, slight mention of child molestation and incest.

Chapter 2

Tucked away in a locked room on the desolate third floor, Hermione stood near the window and peered out at the vast fields surrounding where ever she was now. Or so she appeared to be, truthfully it wasn't the lush green pastures or rolling hills that grasped her attention. No, that honour lie with the stranger staring back at her.

Gaunt cheeks, greasy hair, and two endless black pits.

Where had that little girl from London gone? The muggle one whom pirated books from her father's study, played zoo/veterinarian with all her stuffed animals and curled underneath a layer of blankets whilst being lured to sleep by the soothing rumble of her mother's voice.

Hermione tried desperately to locate her, but it was all for nought. That little girl was gone; chipped away by whetstones made up of whips, words, and odd shows of affections.

Crippling angst crashed down heavily on her heart upon realization. She'd never be the same again.

Once when she was that little girl, Hermione recalled coming upon an enormous tawny and white heifer laid sprawled out onto her side by a roadside fence, grey tongue lolled out and body bloated the creature stared into the distance with glazed pitch eyes unseeing. And it was those eyes; those same awful eyes that were now looking back at her.

Hermione shivered and darted her gaze elsewhere. Perhaps some things were best left unseen. After all, she could always pretend that the little girl from London still existed if only she remained blinded by everything.

"Cruico." Ice wrapped in velvet the word slipped from pink lips without the slightest hesitation.

Screams of agony and the sharp clanking of metal against concrete shattered the darkness.

This had been going on for the better part of an hour, yet no relief seemed in sight for the poor individual chosen to be the test dummy to a student's wand. Head tilted to the side and face blank, Hermione stood over the prone form of a man, her warm chocolate eyes long since dulled to an emotionless muddled brown watched with disinterest as he writhed in pain.

She kept him under until her mistress ordered her to release. Once she did he gasped in breaths as if she'd just saved him from drowning. Though now that she idly thought about it perhaps she did. Hermione felt a tiny twinge of sympathy. Poor pathetic soul, little did he know he'd soon be thrust back into the waves.

"Again," Came a command from behind punctuated by the crack of a whip.

Hermione did not hesitant, her mistress' word was law and one she could do nothing but obey. "Crucio." His back arched dramatically and head whipped back against the filthy concrete floor.

"More power." Another whip crack.

She sent another surge of magic empowering the crucious curse. Form begun to bubble from the corners of his mouth and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"More," Was screeched.

Hermione gritted her teeth and obeyed, sending yet another wave through the line. The curse now at its maximum level raged through the man's body like lava destroying and liquefying his innards until they were pouring from every orifice filling the entire room with the sickening combined scents of blood, piss, and shite.

A pleased grin from behind and a cruel voice curled around her ear. "Good girl."

The phrase sent a pleasant chill up the girl's spine and she had to fight ruthlessly to keep a small smile at bay. She'd finally pleased her dark mistress. All was right with the world now.

She was complete.

"Once upon a time, there were four little Rabbits, and their names were-Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter. They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree."Now, my dears," said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, "you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor. Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out."

Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns. Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries; But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden, and squeezed under the gate!"

Narcissa read onward, her voice in that low soothing tone all mothers used when reading their child a bedtime story. Hermione sighed contentedly as she burrowed herself farther into the elder witch's lap and wrapped her arms around skirt covered legs. The ivory haired witch smiled as she petted the matted hair.

Pale candlelight illuminated the entire dungeon in a sickly glow that was just bright enough where one could see but not so bright In the centre of the room a man's limp body dangled from the ceiling by rusted chains. His clothes ripped, caked with dried blood and mud hung from his limbs in tore rags exposing his equally filthy skin.

A handle of a dagger was thrust into Hermione's right hand. "Go on, puppy, paint Auntie Bellatrix a pretty picture." The dark witch encouraged enjoying the power she held over the mudblood.

Hermione just stood there for a moment staring down at the weapon. The blade twisted and moulded into that of a dragon's tail glinted maliciously back at her. Beautiful yet hungry. Oh so hungry; for flesh, for blood, for life. It almost pleaded with her to feed it.

A sharp push snapped Hermione out of inner thoughts. "Well, go on then you stupid girl. We haven't got all night."

She walked forward, face emotionless, and dagger halfway up. If her mistress demanded a pretty picture then she shall receive a masterpiece.

"Please, please, don't, Herm-" Ear piercing screeches and the familiar rustic smell of copper filled the room.

Hermione sat motionless with her knees drawn up to her chin as a wet washcloth was ran repeatedly over her back. The motion combined with the heat of the material and that of the water did wonders and the brunette felt herself doing something she hadn't done in months. Relax.

Above perched on the edge of the tub, Narcissa smiled fondly down at the girl. "That's it, that's a good girl." She cooed and began to hum a lullaby she'd learned from her own mother when she was but a girl. Of course back then it was done a little too close to her ear whilst a hand 'caressed' her hair a bit too harshly to be comforting.

Eyelids shut on their own accord as Narcissa's mind drifted. She could still the smell of firewhiskey upon her mother's breath and feel the icy cold touch slip beneath the covers to other places.

"You look so much like him." It slid even lower to where a mother's touch was never supposed to go venture in that manner. "So, so much like him."

Lost in thought, Narcissa was unaware that she'd ceased all movements until a whine yanked her to the present and down to two puzzled dark eyes. "Hush now, sweet child, I am here."

Red.

The colour blinded chocolate eyes before coating slightly trembling hands and lips with its warm sticky wetness. A tongue darted out to mop the mess and Hermione moaned when a burst of copper filled her mouth. Satisfaction was indeed sweet.

Gasping and gurgling followed by a loud thump. Death was so swift and easy. Humans thought themselves Gods when compared to other creatures, but if they were honest truly completely honest with themselves they'd admit to being as fragile

Hermione thrust the stiletto down once more, not really aiming for anything in particular. The man jolted as he screamed and she just smiled and smiled. Oh, what fun it was to keep someone on the very cusp of death.

Killing someone in this way, the way of her people, was such a tedious task, yet her mistress for all her disdain on the matter revelled in it. The more brutal and gory the better. So with some newly acquired friends, sharp and shiny, Hermione cut, bleed, and plundered whomever she was led to.

Red

Scarlet

Crimson

Black

Beautiful simply beautiful.

She twisted the blade viciously in a thick shoulder muscle and just carelessly yanked it out. Snarling in victor as drops of copper sprayed across her face.

Her dark mistress let out a shriek of laughter and this time she joined her.

Nervously shifting from one foot to the next as she darted her eyes wildly, Hermione stood in the entryway of the Malfoy Manor not wishing for the first time that day that she was anywhere else but here. Days of being confined in total darkness and endless torture sessions had taken their toll. She no longer felt safe in such a wide open space. There was no place to hide out here-no place safe. Unconsciously she took a half a step back only to bump into something warm and solid.

A tinkling laugh and a gentle nudge. "Well, go on, little one."

The girl braced herself and shook her head violently. She couldn't do it. It was too much. There could be something dangerous out there, hidden in the brush awaiting to gobble her up.

"Go on now, I'm right here." Another push, this one done with a bit more force.

Hermione whimpered pathetically then turned and buried her head against the other woman's shoulder, trembling.

Narcissa rubbed the girl's heaving back and let out a small amused laugh. "Oh now, now, dear heart, there's nothing to be frightened of." The older woman cooed as she pried the younger from her person and walked around her toward the exit.

The girl pivoted and her chocolate eyes widened with horror when Narcissa suddenly stepped outside. Didn't ma'am know of the dangers that lie in wait out there?

Narcissa glided into the middle of the garden the rare sunny day illuminating her in its warm hues seemed to breathe life into icy depths. In Hermione's eyes, she appeared as a golden statue of Athena come to life to spy on the mere mortals who claim her name. The older woman closed her eyes tightly, inhaled deeply then opened them. She locked gazes with the younger and smiled warmly as spread her arms wide. "See there is nothing to fear."

Hermione hesitantly stepped out into the sunshine whilst keeping an ever watchful eye on Narcissa.

One wary step led to two then onward and so forth until finally, she was in her ma'am's strong arms.

The older witch wrapped them tightly around her and laughed musically. "I told you, dear heart."

They stood like that for a moment before Narcissa finally pulled away.

"Now go. Explore." She commanded as she took a few steps back.

At the sudden absence of her protector, Hermione felt dread churn her stomach, but it was soon stomped down when she noticed Narcissa hadn't really gone anywhere and was standing a mere stone throw away. Another reassuring smile was sent her way.

"Go on. Enjoy it whilst you can."

Finally satisfied that she was truly safe, Hermione grinned and slowly twirled in the sunshine as she drank in the various flowers that surrounded her. A child lost in the wilds of Wonderland. Her eyes twinkled and honeyed curls twirled lost in the beautiful madness, but had not a care.

Nearby sapphire irises sparkled with both mirth and fondness. The girl was coming along nicely, but there were still so many lessons yet to be learnt. Narcissa pondered on the matter unaware that two stories up and peering through a portal of condensation, another witch was having the very same thoughts.

TBC...

AN: Hope you enjoyed. Thoughts and prompts(only femslash) are welcome. Rudeness, however, will be either ignored or deleted. I warn though I know Harry Potter fandom readers rarely are. Thank goodness for the maturity of Potterheads, ha...The reason why Hermione's so gone is like I said in the first chapter she's been there a while. I kind of skipped over her talking back and whatnot. Kind of thought it would be a nice change than the smart mouth then torture, smart mouth then torture cycle most do.