A/N: I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: "Fuck you, Kitten. Don't you already have enough incomplete WIPs to be getting on with? What are you doing posting ANOTHER new fic?" And you're right. I'm awful. But I've grown rather addicted to the rush of posting new fics for you all to taste and I like to make sure you all know that even when I'm not actually updating the other fics you're addicted to, I'm still writing something. *kisses you*

Now, in case you missed the tags, this fic is primarily a Thorfinn Rowle/Hermione Granger centric story. There are also important side-pairings of Antonin Dolohov/Ginevra Weasley and Rabastan Lestrange/Luna Lovegood. If that is not you're cup of tea, please depart this train immediately.

If such things are to your taste read on and also join me, Canimal and Freya Ishtar aboard The Death Eater Express on Facebook. A Death Eater related fan-group where we have gorgeous characters with questionable morals. *winks*

WARNINGS: This fic is DARK - yes, all capitals are necessary. For those of you who have read Fervidity, you should know this is Darker is some ways, Lighter in others. I will say this is a fic from what it would be like if Hermione in Fervidity were to attend a revel as the victim, rather than as a Death Eater. You get it? It's Dark. It's twisted. It's fucked up and I'm going to get a lot of hate over it. I won't be putting trigger warnings at the start of every chapter. They'll get repetitive and dull and be on literally every chapter. However, this fic will, at some stage, include: Death. Dub-Con. Non-Con. Torture. Violence. Stockholm Syndrome. Some BDSM mentions. Some mentions of really fucked up things no one likes to think about. So much Smut it will make your head spin. And probably a bunch of other things I can't' think of right now. Point is, it's messed up and if you have triggers this fic will set you off, I guarantee it. If Fervidity makes you squicky, probably turn back now.

Splinter

By Kittenshift17

Chapter 1:These Broken Pieces

"Pick one," the Dark Lord drawled in a tone that belied his boredom with the proceedings.

Thorfinn Rowle stared in equal parts horror and intrigue as a trio of young women were paraded before them, their hands bound in chains. All had been stripped naked. All had been beaten, their pale flesh blooming with deep purple bruises. Their heads hung forwards, long hair in shades of wavy blonde, glossy red and curly brown marring their facial features.

Thorfinn glanced sideways at Rabastan Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov, confusion marring his face. Identical expressions of bewilderment reflected back at him from his friends and fellow Death Eaters.

"My Lord?" Thorfinn asked when it became clear the man wasn't going to elaborate. The Dark Lord reclined lazily in his throne, Nagini draped around his shoulders like a living scarf, her serpentine tongue flicking out and tasting the air in curiosity as the beaten and bloodied witches were dragged in and shoved to the floor before them.

"The three of you will be attending the revel this evening as the main event," the Dark Lord hissed and Thorfinn narrowed his eyes in horror, "You are each to pick one of the females before you to be made a spectacle of."

"I call the blonde," Rabastan said immediately and Thorfinn rolled his eyes at the dark haired git's obvious type. Anything blonde was considered fair game to Rabastan. Thorfinn knew because more than once the man had made a move on him that had made Thorfinn's skin crawl.

"You know I prefer red-heads," Antonin intoned and Thorfinn sighed heavily. That left only the ragged looking brunette for him. She was the most bruised and she had dried blood and dirt crusted across her naked flesh.

"Excellent," the Dark Lord's smile was wide and terrifying, "Take a look at your new pets, my friends."

Thorfinn felt a sick chill slide down his spine when he experienced a sharp and sudden stab of understanding. These three young women were to be made the main spectacle of the night's oncoming revel in debauchery and depravity. And they were all eerily familiar.

"You're all going to pay for this," a low, hoarse, and decidedly familiar voice came from the brunette witch as she slowly lifted her head, flicking her wild mane of coffee curls out of her face and revealing the features of none other than Mudblood Granger.

"You expect us to fuck mudbloods and blood traitors?" Thorfinn demanded, forgetting himself in a perverted horror over the idea of fucking her; of laying a hand on her filthy skin. Of being instructed to force himself upon the little urchin. He owed the bitch a rough fucking time and he meant to exact his revenge on her, but she was still a filthy mudblood.

"I expect you to make her your pet, Thorfinn," the Dark Lord replied, clearly choosing to let his backtalk and his tone slide this once, "Before you are none other than Hermione Granger, Ginevra Weasley and Luna Lovegood. Imagine Harry Potter's horror when he learns the fate of the three most faithful witches to him and his crusade."

"If they're the main attraction for tonight, are we to kill them?" Rabastan wanted to know, his hands tangling into the long mane of blonde hair Luna Lovegood possessed and using the grip to jerk her head up. Her face was battered. A cut on her bottom lip and another on her cheekbone marred her vague beauty. Her eyes were wide and scared as Rabastan leered into her face with that feral expression Thorfinn had seen before. The one that said the sight of such fine blonde hair was making him horny. The one that promised sexual deviousness if he could get away with it.

And Thorfinn got the feeling the Dark Lord was more than willing to let him get away with it.

"No, I think not. Others will do the dying tonight. For Harry Potter to be lured here they must be kept alive. And each of you have chosen the pet you will keep. It will be up to you to ensure their continued survival and preferably, their obedience. I am tasking each of you with their protection from my other, less obedient followers and with breaking their spirits. By the time Potter arrives with his entourage to rescue these damsels I expect each of you to have thoroughly broken them to your will. You may use them however you wish, as long as they bend to your will. Make them yours in any way you see fit. Just make sure they will still be able to be used as bait for Potter."

Thorfinn felt a sick, cruel twist his stomach when he glanced back at the Mudblood. Her fierce eyes clashed furiously with his, her expression daring him to think he could break her. Challenging him to even think he could exert his will over her own. Defying him to believe, for even a moment, she would ever willingly surrender herself to him. He felt hatred simmer and begin to bubble in his blood, threatening to consume him with the need to make her pay for every degradation the bitch had caused him to endure over the years. The number of times she had bested him in the field. The number of times she and her friends had outwitted him and his fellow Death Eaters as the war waged on. All those moments sought only to awaken the monster that lived inside his soul.

Mudblood Granger was going to find out there was nothing left of the cruel boy she'd gone to Hogwarts with. In fact all three women were in for a rude awakening when they learned what had become of their peers in the years since they'd graduated. Not that he knew much about the younger two. Granger had been a first year when he and Antonin had been seventh years. Rabastan was the oldest of the bunch and had been in his final year when Thorfinn and Antonin had been first years. As the years of the war had ravaged on, they had all morphed from twisted boys into evil men.

Thorfinn smirked at her cruelly, despite her gall to still look so furious and spiteful in the face of being stripped and beaten. In the face of her capture.

"With pleasure, my Lord," Thorfinn heard the words slip off his tongue sinisterly, his own eyes telling Granger she was in for the worst time of her life. He would enjoy subjecting her to all manner of horror and displaying the cruel creature of darkness he had become. He'd already been a bastard willing to pick on the little bitch for being an interfering tattle-tale and a mudblood.

But the boy he'd been in Hogwarts was not the man he'd become.

No, that boy had been stripped away from Thorfinn. Little pieces of that boy had been chipped and chiselled away, flaked off like splinters off a stone, leaving something else in its place. Something jagged and dangerous. Something stronger and harder. Something lethal.

"Excellent," the Dark Lord's smile widened, indicating that he was pleased with their acceptance of the task, "On the table to the left you will find an array of degrading items I expect each female to be clad in before they are brought into the revel going on in the next room. Be inventive boys. Word must reach Harry Potter of the terrible shame and horror these girls will endure as a result of his resistance to my reign."

With all of that being said the Dark Lord rose and swept out of the room, clearly intent on joining in the revel taking place within the next room of Malfoy Manor.

"Such a thoughtful gift from the Master," Antonin purred, having moved over to the Weasley girl and begun stroking his hands - almost lovingly - down the length of her bare spine. She squirmed, trying to get away from him, the chains binding her wrists and ankles clanking softly. Thorfinn eyed the way her head snapped up angrily, her fists clenching.

If ever there were three women who would rile against their chains and rage against their captivity it was Lovegood, Granger and Weasley. Thorfinn saw it in the glint in Weasley's eyes and in the way she squirmed under Antonin's touch that she loathed every minute of what was being inflicted upon them. These three had given them hell at the Ministry when they'd still just been dumb kids, and they hadn't gotten any easier to deal with across the battlefield since then. He didn't doubt that as soon as the time came, she and her companions would seek vengeance and retribution for all they endured. He supposed it made him entirely fucked up when the very thought of the things he would subject Granger to made his cock twitch. It throbbed at the notion of having her rile against him.

"Indeed," Rabastan agreed with Antonin quietly, having already hauled the Lovegood girl up by her hair, her body pressed back against his. He still had one hand tangled in her hair and the other caressed her breasts with feather-light touches. Her eyes were wide with fear of what he meant to do to her and she jostled slightly in his hold when he tweaked her nipple unkindly.

"If you even think about…" Granger began but before she could finish the sentence Thorfinn stepped forwards and backhanded her.

Her head snapped to the side with a crack, her cheek turning an angry red and blood dribbling from the split his Rowle signet ring left upon her lip. He smiled cruelly as he jerked sharply on her mess of dark curls, titling her head back until he knew it would pain her.

"If you say one more word, I'm going to jam my cock down your throat until you choke on it, you filthy little mudblood whore," Thorfinn warned her while Rabastan and Antonin laughed.

The bitch's eyes widened at his tone and his threat.

She didn't speak again, clearly reading his evil intent in his eyes. Thorfinn knew she was a fast learner, but he knew Granger would never break so easily. That much was clear from the anger that glittered in her dark eyes, teasing him with the urge to shove her down and brutalise her until she never back-talked him again. The little bitch had always had a smart fucking mouth and he wasn't above putting it to better use than letting her back-talk him again.

The outburst alone was enough to push at his usually steadfast control over his emotions and Thorfinn caught the smirk Rabastan threw Antonin over Thorfinn's behaviour. Both men knew from stories of his days at Hogwarts that if there was ever anything in the world that tugged against Thorfinn's self-control and made him volatile beyond recognition it was the mudblood currently writhing in his hold. She'd been a thorn in his paw the entire length of his final year and as she'd grown the bitch had given him even more trouble.

Thorfinn was going to enjoy watching her break. He would revel in bending the bitch to his will. She awoke the monster inside him the way no other ever had and Thorfinn's anticipation of breaking the beast free was a palpable, living thing that gnawed at his psyche ravenously.