Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11412048.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Draco_Malfoy, Hermione_Granger/Fenrir_Greyback
  Character:
      Hermione_Granger, Draco_Malfoy, Fenrir_Greyback, Bellatrix_Black
      Lestrange, Lucius_Malfoy, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Ron
      Weasley, Dobby, Peter_Pettigrew
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Imperius, Malfoy_Manor, Not_Epilogue_Compliant, Part_of_a_larger
      series_eventually, Implied/Referenced_Torture, Loss_of_Virginity, Canon
      Divergence
  Series:
      Part 1 of The_Consequence_of_All_Things
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-05 Completed: 2018-01-04 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 7356
****** Flowers of Flesh and Blood ******
by Ihungerforbrains
Summary
     In which a small mercy changes two lives forever. An alternate
     version of what happened at the Malfoy Manor in Deathly Hallows.
     Contains graphic rape. You have been warned.
     UPDATE: Now contains non-graphic version. If you are uncomfortable
     with non-con, but want to read this before moving onto "The
     Consequence of All Things", only read the first chapter.
***** NON-EXPLICIT VERSION *****
                         [flowers of flesh and blood2]
                                        
 
Flowers of Flesh and Blood
===============================================================================
 
In which a small mercy changes two lives forever.
===============================================================================
This is the non-explicit version of Flowers of Flesh and Blood, requested by
several people, however, it contains swearing, violence, and mentions of non-
consensual sex. The explicit version is chapter two.
*Please continue to read at your own risk*
There is the first in the “Consequence of All Things” series I am writing
dealing with the aftermath of this incident.
===============================================================================
 
Malfoy Manor - Easter Holiday
 
Dobby, former house elf of the Malfoy family, had just vanished the chain on
the wall when the crystal chandelier shattered into a million brilliant little
pieces on the marble floor of the parlor. In the chaos, Ron ran to Hermione,
pulling her away from the grasp of Bellatrix who was standing in shock at the
events unfolding. He dragged her next to the fireplace as spells flew overhead,
gripping Hermione’s hand and repeating “Are you ok, are you ok,” over and over
again.
“Ron, Hermione, let’s go!” Harry yelled as he ran to Ron, grasped his hand, and
pulled the sword of Gryffindor tighter against himself. From his perch on the
mantle, Dobby pulled Harry’s shirt and started to Disapparate out of the Manor.
Hermione felt the pull of the Disapparation, but within a fraction of a second,
Ron’s fingers slipped from hers as Bellatrix’s spell dragged her away from him
and back towards its caster.
His hand still outstretched and her name of his lips, Ron disappeared leaving
Hermione alone in the hands of the enemy.
===============================================================================
 
Draco sat stiffly in his chair, hands twisting and pulling at each other in his
lap as he contemplated what he was going to do next.
After Potter and Weasley had Disapparated, his mother had healed the cuts along
his face and neck from the destroyed chandelier, ordering the house elves to
clean the mess the battle had caused. Aunt Bellatrix and the werewolf, Fenrir
Greyback, had taken the barely conscious Granger back down to the cellar to
continue the interrogation.
By nightfall, her screams had finally stopped, and Bellatrix ascended looking
deranged with flecks of blood and a twisted sneer on her face. Pulling her
chair out, she had sat with them for supper, and his father demanded to know
what knowledge she had ascertained.
“Patience, Lucius, these things take time. And the Dark Lord has given me all
the time I need.” She was humming as she sipped her soup.
Draco had grimaced, no longer hungry, and excused himself from the table. He
was halfway to his rooms in the south wing when he heard a voice coming from a
guest room.
“... got all night with the pretty little Mudblood. Bet she’ll moan real good
fer me, too. All of them are right sluts underneath,” the voice of Fenrir
Greyback rumbled, and Draco moved closer to the partially closed door, looking
through the crack, his curiosity getting the better of him.  
“Bu-bu-but the Dark Lord left it to Bellatrix to get information from the girl.
It won’t do if she’s too damaged, Greyback,” came the simpering voice of
Wormtail who fretted about the room like an uncaged rat.
“I’m not gonna kill her, ya dungheap, just play with her a bit, maybe get a
little bite in. Virgins always taste the best.” And with that Draco darted from
his spot, half-running to his rooms and shutting the door with shaking hands.
At half past eleven he finally stood from his chair, straightened his back and
headed to the cellar.
===============================================================================
 
“Granger?” His whisper seemed terribly loud in the silence of the cellar
stairwell. He descended quickly, wishing to be in and out with Granger in tow
before his aunt was the wiser. What Greyback was planning for the
muggleborn...Draco couldn’t stand the thought of it. Granger was the worst sort
of know-it-all swot and smug mudblood, but did anyone deserve what the werewolf
was planning to do to her? He had considered it for hours before he finally
rose to action.
When Draco reached the bottom, the scene before him caused him to immediately
halt. With his wand at the ready, he stood immobile in shock and disgust.
Granger, still bloodied and shackled to the stone wall, knelt before Greyback.
The werewolf leaned against the wall between her chains, his eyes half closed,
tongue licking his thin lips in pleasure.
With a growl resonating from deep within his chest, he grabbed a handful of
Hermione’s unruly hair and pulled her head off him. Her mouth remained open,
wet and glistening with spit, yet her dark eyes turned and bore into Draco’s,
tear-filled and pleading. 
It only took Greyback a moment to follow her gaze to the foot of the stairs.
"Wot the fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?" 
As if blasted with an ice water hex, Draco came to his senses. He brought his
wand up to stupify the werewolf, but he was too slow. It was suddenly wrenched
from his hand and clattered across the cavernous cellar. In the span of a
heartbeat, Draco dove to the ground for his wand, but again, Fenrir and his
werewolf reflexes were faster. It was within a fingertip's reach, yet Draco
fell short onto the uneven stone floor. His chin hit it hard and split open
when the werewolf landed on top of him.
"Isn't this just darling,” Greyback purred in his ear. “Here to rescue the
damsel, lover boy? Answer me!" Draco panted as his arm was twisted painfully
behind him, feeling as if it were about to snap.
"Yes," Draco hissed, and the powerful arm gripping his elbow pulled harder
until he cried out. Greyback didn’t speak for a few moments, just breathed
heavily as he lay across Draco’s back, and unexpectedly loosened his grip.
With a dark chuckle, Greyback dug his wand into Draco’s throat. "I think I have
a better idea. Imperio!"
The dark magic of the curse coursed through him with the power of an
unstoppable train engine, and Draco gasped when it struck his mind. He was at
once floating away from his body with the vaguest sense that he was in pain.
The terror and anxiety that had just filled him seemed so distant and obscure
he wasn’t sure why he had felt it at all.
Hopping to his feet, the werewolf meandered to the wall where Hermione was
still on her knees. "Both of you stand up," he ordered.
NO! A voice screamed, small and terror-filled, in the back of Draco’s mind, but
as much as he tried to fight it, his body did as it was commanded, and he stood
up from where he lay sprawled on the stone. Hermione’s chains rattled as she
rose as well.
Greyback brought his wand to each of her shackled wrists, releasing her. His
smirk became wider as his eyes raked over her disheveled figure. "Take your
clothes off. Both of you." 
Again his body betrayed him as his mind protested, and Draco's hands began
pulling off his jumper, unbuttoning his trousers, untying his shoelaces. At the
last piece, his hands shook as his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his
boxers and pulled them down. His eyes remained on the grey stone of the cellar
floor as he heard the rustle of clothing being tossed aside, indicating Granger
had finished disrobing as well.
“C’mere, Malfoy,” the werewolf growled, and he obeyed, his bare feet padding
softly to the wall where Granger had been chained. Looking up, he saw Greyback
towering over her.
He's going to rape her,was Draco's dull thought, only remotely aware of the
panic spreading in the back of his mind and causing his breath to quicken.
“You ever been with a woman before? Tell me the truth, boy.”
His mind fuzzily flipped through memories of fumbling hands in the dark,
hurried kisses and smooth, soft skin. Early last summer Pansy had allowed him
to take off her shirt, to touch and lick her breasts and weigh them in his
hands. That had been the furthest they'd gone in that summer that seemed a
lifetime ago. Draco doubted that was what Greyback meant.   
“No,” was his mechanical response.
Greyback sneered and continued his assault on Granger’s body. Despite her cut
and swollen lip and the word carved into her forearm, she was otherwise
unharmed.
Outwardly, anyway.
It seemed his aunt Bella’s torture had been mostly magical; that type of dark
magic left invisible scars, he knew. She was thinner than he recalled her ever
being.
“When I was yer age, I’d already fucked a dozen girls,” Greyback said, and to
Draco's mild surprise, he took a step backward, his long finger nails rasping
over Granger’s flesh before pulling away altogether.
“I’m going to do you a kindness, boy. Had planned on takin’ her myself,”
Greyback’s face contorted into a cruel smile, “but this is gonna be much more
entertaining.” With that, the werewolf seized Draco, pulling him closer to the
immobile girl. Now he stood facing her, a half-head taller and close enough to
feel her hot breath on his collarbone.
No, no no….Draco’s mind chanted like a incantation, as if it could stop the way
his body was reacting, stop the dark magic suppressing his free will.
“Like what you see, then?” Grey back sneered.
Their eyes met for the second time since Draco had entered the damnable cellar.
Granger’s brows were creased, her brown eyes wide-open and haunting in their
abject panic. He knew she too was silently screaming, her mind rallying
pointlessly against a body that would not obey. She was trapped, muted,
terrified. Just like him. He could see himself reflected in those chocolate
pools, see his expression frozen in dread. A mirror to hers.
"Are you a virgin, Hermione?" The debauched creature mockingly asked her, and
she gave a little nod of affirmation. Her head was down now, her face flush and
warm.
The werewolf chuckled and licked his lips obscenely. His dark eyes twinkled
with malice as he said, “Love the flavor of a virgin. They taste so sweet and
innocent.
“Now before we start, take this,” Greyback reached into his trouser pocket and
he handed Draco a small stoppered vial filled with mint green liquid. ”Nicked
it from yer father’s stores. Go on, drink up.” And he did, the fluid going down
smoothly and tasting of the briny sea. “Was gonna use it myself, but change of
plans.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Can you imagine what ol’ Lucius would say if
he saw what you two was doin’ down here? His pretty pureblood son with a
Mudblood?”
He grabbed a handful of Draco’s pale hair, pulling him far enough back that his
neck was exposed. “What d’you think he’d do, huh? Worthless coward always
looking down on me with that damn sneer.” The werewolf lowered his face so that
he was looking directly into Draco’s unblinking grey eyes, a growl rumbling in
his throat. “When the full moon comes, I’m lookin’ for you, boy. See if your
old man keeps sneering when his son is just like me.”  
Greyback released his hair and took a step backward, and Draco strang upright
again. “She’s ready enough. Hermione, lay down. Draco, show this Mudblood how
it ought to be."
Hysterically, his mind shouted, Don’t do this, stop! Grab your wand, stun him,
punch him, run! Don’t do this... but soon after Granger had laid on the frigid
stone ground, Draco followed, laying on top of her, his skin burning where they
touched. He stopped for the briefest of seconds and gazed down at her.
The part of him that was sealed in the back of his own head tried to convey to
her through his eyes how sorry he was, how he didn’t want this to happen
either, how he was trying so very hard to free himself of this dark power. If
she understood any of that, her own brown eyes did not give any indication as
they stared above him, unseeing.
How many nights had he lay on his bed, stroking himself and imagining his hand
was the wet, pulsing sheath of a woman? In his fantasies, the woman he plunged
into was willing and wanton, her eyes hooded in pleasure while she moaned
delightfully in time with his ministrations. Sex was an act of passion, heated
and erotic. This was nothing like that. This act was bloodless, devoid of life
and fire. The woman beneath him wasn’t supposed to be motionless and crying,
wasn’t supposed to be clutching him out of pain and not pleasure. It was wrong,
all wrong...
Draco gave in to the euphoria of the curse and let his mind drift away. A
chaotic collection of images flashed through his brain - his parents’ terrified
faces; Pansy’s small, pert breasts; his fingers reaching for the snitch.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before his mental disassociation came
to sudden end.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he fell upon her in sweaty exhaustion, his
heart beating too loudly in his ears. Draco’s body was still buzzing with
pleasure, his mind simultaneously elated and horrified at what he had done.
Tears stung his eyes unwillingly as he heaved himself up to lay at her side.
Rape. He had committed rape. The girl beside him was silent and unmoving. He
would have thought her asleep if not for the rapid rise and fall of her stomach
as she breathed.
“Lasted longer than I thought you would,” Greyback sniggered to his right, and
Draco turned his eyes from Hermione to glance at him. “With that draught I gave
you, we’ll be able to have fun all night,” Greyback informed him as he
positioned himself above Hermione. “But for now, it’s my turn.”
“Fuck!” Draco jumped at the beast’s sudden exclamation, listening as Greyback
stood and hurriedly dressed himself. He saw the werewolf gripping his arm as he
passed on the way to the cellar stairs. "Now, how about you two take a little
rest and don't go nowhere. I'll be back soon," he said grumpily, the door
slamming shut behind him.
Draco couldn’t tell how much time had passed he lay there shivering and
waiting. Nothing moved around them, nor sounds were heard above them as they
lay naked, dreadfully awaiting their tormentor’s return. The chill from the
freezing stones crept up from his naked backside through his body, leaving him
shivering uncontrollably.  
Suddenly, something moved to Draco’s left, sending a thrill of terror through
the fog of the Imperius curse . He’s back!He thought and squished his eyes shut
in trepidation. There was a shuffling beside him, a soft feminine cry, more
shuffling.  
"Malfoy!" A hoarse voice whispered urgently above him and an icy hand gripped
his shoulder. His eyes fly open, gazing at the pale, determined face of
Hermione. How…? His befogged mind pondered. Her hand shook his shoulder harder.
“Draco, please, you have to fight the curse. We need to get out of here. He’ll
be back soon. Please, get up!"  
Draco watched as she draped his shirt over his privates and knelt at his side.
Hermione hovered over him, whispering encouragement to help break the curse’s
hold. “Just concentrate! Focus on your own mind, your own body. Try wiggling
your fingers, your toes. You need to try harder!”
But through all of her words and his efforts, Draco’s mind refused to yield to
his control. Move, move, MOVE!He mentally screamed, his toe just barely
twitching. His body continued to remain utterly unmoving under Greyback’s last
command to stay put.
Her whispers were becoming frantic. “Please, PLEASE! If you don’t….I don’t know
how to get out of here, and he’ll be back soon...”
Draco’s heart jumped. No!He screamed, unheard, and doubled his efforts to be
free of the dark curse that restrained his free-will. The fog shifted and
changed, seemingly gripping him tighter as he made every effort to be free. As
he fought, his thoughts were becoming louder, less disjointed and vague. His
own mind came sharply into focus as he came back to himself fully and with it
the pain and terror of what had happened. His chin and arm throbbed, his body
numb and half frozen.
Draco snapped upwards, knocking over Hermione who was still hovering over him.
“Gran...ger…” he stammered as she scrambled up to retrieve his clothing. Draco
stiffly stood and put them on as she looked away, gripping his wand in her
hand.
“I didn’t think you would...nevermind. We need to get out of here,” Hermione
stated, rushing forward toward the stairs. Draco grabbed her arm to stop her,
but she pulled back. “Don’t touch me!,” she nearly shrieked, pointing his wand
at his face, her expression one of panic.
“Not that way,” Draco said, turning his back to her and heading to the furthest
corner in the back of the cellar. Hermione stared at him curiously as he
knocked three times and placed his hand upon the stone, leaning near it to
whisper an incantation. A small circle of green light formed and slowly
expanded, becoming brighter when the circle's diameter reached two meters. The
light extinguished suddenly, and in its place was a circular hole leading to a
downwards sloping tunnel.
Hermione stepped closer, looking down into the dark pit. “Where does -”
“The tunnel will lead you deep under the grounds of the Manor. You’ll find a
small teacup there. It’s a portkey. It will take you to our safehouse in
Cornwall. You can apparate from there,” Draco stated, turning his back to her
and walking towards the stairs.  
“Wait,” she murmured, clutching his shoulder. Draco felt her cold hand through
the fabric of his jumper. "Come with me. When they find me missing, they’re
going to -"
"I can’t leave my parents,” he interrupts, shrugging her hand from him without
turning around. “What do you think He’ll will do to them if i go missing, too?"
“Draco, you-”
“Just go!” He nearly shouts, and after a moment’s pause, he hears her lift
herself into the tunnel and disappear into its depths. In a flash of light, the
hole becomes solid stone once again.
My wand...Draco briefly laments as he numbly walks up the stairs to the cellar
door.
===============================================================================
 
A/N -
 
Besides changing the scene of what happened at Malfoy Manor and Harry NOT
stealing Draco’s wand, this story is compliant with Deathly Hallows except for
the epilogue. I also know that with the Imperius curse, people have no control
over their eyes, but I changed that a bit here. They can move their eyes, but
nothing else and still have the euphoric, out-of-body feeling.
Rape victims deal with trauma differently from one to the next. Hermione, IMO,
would suppress the memory of the incident to prioritize finding and destroying
the hallows and keep it from her friends so they wouldn’t get distracted from
the mission. This repression will come to a head in the next story.
I know some people will be very upset with the fact that I decided to write the
rape from Draco’s POV rather than Hermione’s. I needed to convey what his
motivations were for going down to free her, and that this terrible experience
was also against his will - he was also raped. There will be A LOT more of
Hermione’s POV in the sequel, and we’ll find out the ramifications of this act
then.   
***** EXPLICIT VERSION *****
Chapter Summary
     This is the EXPLICIT NON-CON version of the same story.
                         [flowers_of_flesh_and_blood2]
Flowers of Flesh and Blood
===============================================================================
 
In which a small mercy changes two lives forever.
===============================================================================
 
This fic contains non-consensual sex. Please continue to read at your own risk.
There is the first in the “Consequence of All Things” series I have planned
dealing with the aftermath of this incident.
This work has not been Beta'ed so please forgive the discrepancies and
grammatical errors. Contact me if you would like beta ^_^ I would really
appreciate the help.
 
===============================================================================
 
Malfoy Manor - Easter Holiday
 
Dobby, former house elf of the Malfoy family, had just vanished the chain on
the wall when the crystal chandelier shattered into a million brilliant little
pieces on the marble floor of the parlor. In the chaos, Ron ran to Hermione,
pulling her away from the grasp of Bellatrix who was standing in shock at the
events unfolding. He dragged her next to the fireplace as spells flew overhead,
gripping Hermione’s hand and repeating “Are you ok, are you ok,” over and over
again.
“Ron, Hermione, let’s go!” Harry yelled as he ran to Ron, grasped his hand, and
pulled the sword of Gryffindor tighter against himself. From his perch on the
mantle, Dobby pulled Harry’s shirt and started to Disapparate out of the Manor.
 Hermione felt the pull of the Disapparation, but within a fraction of a
second, Ron’s fingers slipped from hers as Bellatrix’s spell dragged her away
from him and back towards its caster.
His hand still outstretched and her name of his lips, Ron disappeared leaving
Hermione alone in the hands of the enemy.
----
Draco sat stiffly in his chair, hands twisting and pulling at each other in his
lap as he contemplated what he was going to do next.
After Potter and Weasley had Disapparated, his mother had healed the cuts along
his face and neck from the destroyed chandelier, ordering the house elves to
clean the mess the battle had caused. Aunt Bellatrix and the werewolf, Fenrir
Greyback, had taken the barely conscious Granger back down to the cellar to
continue the interrogation.
By nightfall, her screams had finally stopped, and Bellatrix ascended looking
deranged with flecks of blood and a twisted sneer on her face. Pulling her
chair out, she had sat with them for supper, and his father demanded to know
what knowledge she had ascertained.
“Patience, Lucius, these things take time. And the Dark Lord has given me all
the time I need.” She was humming as she sipped her soup.
Draco had grimaced, no longer hungry, and excused himself from the table. He
was halfway to his rooms in the south wing when he heard a voice coming from a
guest room.
“... got all night with the pretty little Mudblood. Bet she’ll moan real good
fer me, too. All of them are right sluts underneath,” the voice of Fenrir
Greyback rumbled, and Draco moved closer to the partially closed door, looking
through the crack, his curiosity getting the better of him.  
“Bu-bu-but the Dark Lord left it to Bellatrix to get information from the girl.
It won’t do if she’s too damaged, Greyback,” came the simpering voice of
Wormtail who fretted about the room like an uncaged rat.
“I’m not gonna kill her, ya dungheap, just play with her a bit, maybe get a
little bite in. Virgins always taste the best.” And with that Draco darted from
his spot, half-running to his rooms and shutting the door with shaking hands.
At half past eleven he finally stood from his chair, straightened his back and
headed to the cellar.
-----------------
“Granger?” His whisper seemed terribly loud in the silence of the cellar
stairwell. He descended quickly, wishing to be in and out with Granger in tow
before his aunt was the wiser. What Greyback was planning for the
muggleborn...Draco couldn’t stand the thought of it. Granger was the worst sort
of know-it-all swot and smug mudblood, but did anyone deserve what the werewolf
was planning to do to her? He had considered it for hours before he finally
rose to action.
When Draco reached the bottom, the scene before him caused him to immediately
halt. With his wand at the ready, he stood immobile in shock and disgust.
Granger, still bloodied and shackled to the stone wall, knelt before Greyback,
her head bobbing up and down as she worked her mouth over his large member. In
the light of the torch above him, Greyback leaned against the wall between her
chains, his eyes half closed, tongue licking his thin lips in pleasure.
With a growl resonating from deep within his chest, he grabbed a handful of
Hermione’s unruly hair and pulled her head off him. Her mouth remained open,
wet and glistening with spit, yet her dark eyes turned and bore into Draco’s,
tear-filled and pleading.
It only took Greyback a moment to follow her gaze to the foot of the stairs.
"Wot the fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?"
As if blasted with an ice water hex, Draco came to his senses. He brought his
wand up to  stupify  the werewolf, but he was too slow. It was suddenly
wrenched from his hand and clattered across the cavernous cellar. In the span
of a heartbeat, Draco dove to the ground for his wand, but again, Fenrir and
his werewolf reflexes were faster. It was within a fingertip's reach, yet Draco
fell short onto the uneven stone floor. His chin hit it hard and split open
when the werewolf landed on top of him.
"Isn't this just darling,” Greyback purred in his ear. “Here to rescue the
damsel, lover boy? Answer me!" Draco panted as his arm was twisted painfully
behind him, feeling as if it were about to snap.
"Yes," Draco hissed, and the powerful arm gripping his elbow pulled harder
until he cried out. Greyback didn’t speak for a few moments, just breathed
heavily as he lay across Draco’s back, and unexpectedly loosened his grip.
With a dark chuckle, Greyback dug his wand into Draco’s throat. "I think I have
a better idea.  Imperio  !"
The dark magic of the curse coursed through him with the power of an
unstoppable train engine, and Draco gasped when it struck his mind. He was at
once floating away from his body with the vaguest sense that he was in pain.
The terror and anxiety that had just filled him seemed so distant and obscure
he wasn’t sure why he had felt it at all.
Hopping to his feet, the werewolf meandered to the wall where Hermione was
still on her knees. "Both of you stand up," he ordered.
NO!  A voice screamed, small and terror-filled, in the back of Draco’s mind,
but as much as he tried to fight it, his body did as it was commanded, and he
stood up from where he lay sprawled on the stone. Hermione’s chains rattled as
she rose as well.
Greyback brought his wand to each of her shackled wrists, releasing her. His
smirk became wider as his eyes raked over her disheveled figure. "Take your
clothes off. Both of you."
Again his body betrayed him as his mind protested, and Draco's hands began
pulling off his jumper, unbuttoning his trousers, untying his shoelaces. At the
last piece, his hands shook as his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his
boxers and pulled them down. His eyes remained on the grey stone of the cellar
floor as he heard the rustle of clothing being tossed aside, indicating Granger
had finished disrobing as well.
“C’mere, Malfoy,” the werewolf growled, and he obeyed, his bare feet padding
softly to the wall where Granger had been chained. Looking up, he saw Greyback
towering over her, one dirty hand rolling her hard, rosy nipple between his
fingers.
He's going to rape her,  was Draco's dull thought, only remotely aware of the
panic spreading in the back of his mind and causing his breath to quicken.
“You ever been with a woman before? Tell me the truth, boy.”
His mind fuzzily flipped through memories of fumbling hands in the dark,
hurried kisses and smooth, soft skin. Early last summer Pansy had allowed him
to take off her shirt, to touch and lick her breasts and weigh them in his
hands. That had been the furthest they'd gone in that summer that seemed a
lifetime ago. Draco doubted that was what Greyback meant.   
“No,” was his mechanical response.
Greyback sneered and continued his assault on Granger’s breasts, roughly
pulling and tweaking them both now as she stood rigidly still. Without his
mind’s consent, his body started to react to the scene before him. A flush
crept up his pale chest to his cheeks, and his flaccid member began to stir at
the sight of Granger’s naked body in the dim torchlight. Despite her cut and
swollen lip and the word carved into her forearm, she was otherwise unharmed.
Outwardly, anyway. It seemed his aunt Bella’s torture had been mostly magical;
that type of dark magic left invisible scars, he knew. She was thinner than he
recalled her ever being, and as he unwillingly feasted upon her form, he
couldn’t help but feel lust swell within him at the sight of the dark curls
between her jutting hips and her firm, full breasts being fondled by the
werewolf who now held a nipple between his lips.
“When I was yer age, I’d already fucked a dozen girls,” Greyback said, and to
Draco's mild surprise, he took a step backward, his long fingernails rasping
over Granger’s flesh before pulling away altogether.
“I’m going to do you a kindness, boy. Had planned on takin’ her myself,”
Greyback’s face contorted into a cruel smile, “but this is gonna be much more
entertaining.” With that, the werewolf seized Draco, pulling him closer to the
immobile girl. Now he stood facing her, a half-head taller and close enough to
feel her hot breath on his collarbone.
No, no no….  Draco’s mind chanted like a incantation, as if it could stop the
way his body was reacting, stop the dark magic suppressing his free will.
“Like what you see, then?” And Draco’s body froze when the werewolf suddenly
gripped his half-hard cock, jerking the foreskin up and down until he was fully
erect and poking Granger’s stomach. The contact with her soft skin on his
sensitive, exposed head was electric, and sent shockwaves of pleasure down to
his balls and up his spine, adding to the cloud of euphoria that surrounded his
cursed mind. He couldn’t look into her eyes.
“Stick yer fingers up her cunt; make her good and ready,”Greyback commanded and
released his member. To Granger he said, “Open your legs a bit, yeah like that,
good girl. Bet yer as slippery as a wet eel already.”
Draco did as he was told and, lifting his hand, he carded his fingers through
the wiry thatch of her mons until they reached her inner folds. As one finger
gently delved upward into her core, he was surprised to find that she was wet,
and a part of him was bitterly pleased that he wasn’t the only one reacting to
the attentions on their bodies. A shaky gasp followed by the smallest of moans
interrupted him from his task, and Draco glanced down at her in surprise.
Their eyes met for the second time since Draco had entered the damnable cellar.
Granger’s brows were creased, her brown eyes wide-open and haunting in their
abject panic. He knew she too was silently screaming, her mind rallying
pointlessly against a body that would not obey. She was trapped, muted,
terrified. Just like him. He could see himself reflected in those chocolate
pools, see his expression frozen in dread. A mirror to hers.
"Is she tight?" The taunting voice invaded Draco’s thoughts once more. He had
added a second finger moments before, and her tight inner walls were barely
wide enough to let them in as he pushed them in and out of her wet channel.
“Yes.”
"Are you a virgin, Hermione?" The debauched creature mockingly asked her, and
she gave a little nod of affirmation. Her head was down now, her face flush and
warm as she panted and thrust her hips ever so slightly in time with his
pumping fingers.
Abruptly, Greyback snatched Draco’s hand away from her, bringing the glistening
fingers to his mouth and sucking on them. Draco’s mind revolted at the feeling
of the vile tongue licking her juices off of him.
Letting his hand fall away, the werewolf chuckled and licked his lips
obscenely. His dark eyes twinkled with malice as he said, “Love the flavor of a
virgin. They taste so sweet and innocent.
“Now before we start, take this,” Greyback reached into his trouser pocket and
he handed Draco a small stoppered vial filled with mint green liquid. ”Nicked
it from yer father’s stores. Go on, drink up.” And he did, the fluid going down
smoothly and tasting of the briny sea. “Was gonna use it myself, but change of
plans.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Can you imagine what ol’ Lucius would say if
he saw what you two was doin’ down here? His pretty pureblood son finger deep
in a Mudblood?”
He grabbed a handful of Draco’s pale hair, pulling him far enough back that his
neck was exposed. “What d’you think he’d do, huh? Worthless coward always
looking down on me with that damn sneer.” The werewolf lowered his face so that
he was looking directly into Draco’s unblinking grey eyes, a growl rumbling in
his throat. “When the full moon comes, I’m lookin’ for you, boy. See if your
old man keeps sneering when his son is just like me.”  
Greyback released his hair and took a step backward, and Draco strang upright
again. “She’s ready enough. Hermione, lay down. Draco, show this Mudblood how
it ought to be."
Hysterically, his mind shouted,  Don’t do this, stop! Grab your wand, stun him,
punch him, run! Don’t do this...  but soon after Granger had laid on the frigid
stone ground, Draco followed, laying on top of her, his skin burning where they
touched. His rigid cock ground against the smooth skin of her hip, and he felt
her stomach tremble beneath him. Shifting her hips apart, he rose above her
slightly. Taking his cock in hand, he lowered himself to her entrance. As the
head of his shaft gently nudged her wet lips apart, he stopped for the briefest
of seconds and gazed down at her.
The part of him that was sealed in the back of his own head tried to convey to
her through his eyes how sorry he was, how he didn’t want this to happen
either, how he was trying so very hard to free himself of this dark power. If
she understood any of that, her own brown eyes did not give any indication as
they stared above him, unseeing.
Draco slowly pushed his hips forward until just the head of his cock had passed
her opening. He paused, and, with a groan, continued driving forward until he
was fully sheathed within her, heedless of her heavy panting and whimpers of
pain. Granger was stiff beneath him, her blunt nails digging painfully into his
upper arms. The tears that gathered in her brown eyes rolled down her cheeks as
he withdrew and thrust into her again.
How many nights had he lay on his bed, stroking himself and imagining his hand
was the wet, pulsing sheath of a woman? In his fantasies, the woman he plunged
into was willing and wanton, her eyes hooded in pleasure while she moaned
delightfully in time with his ministrations. Sex was an act of passion, heated
and erotic. This was nothing like that. This act was bloodless, devoid of life
and fire. The woman beneath him wasn’t supposed to be motionless and crying,
wasn’t supposed to be clutching him out of pain and not pleasure. It was wrong,
all wrong, but he couldn’t stop his hips as they jerked and thrust into her all
encompassing heat. He couldn’t deny how incredible she felt, how her hot
channel clenched him more exquisitely than he had ever imagined, the way her
soft breasts pressed into him, bouncing at his thrusts.
Draco gave in to the euphoria of the curse and let his mind drift away as his
body continued its unwilling assault on the girl beneath him. A chaotic
collection of images flashed through his brain - his parents’ terrified faces;
Pansy’s small, pert breasts; his fingers reaching for the snitch.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before his mental disassociation came
to sudden end, and he was present again, moaning and ramming into her
erratically as an orgasm ripped through him. Draco threw his head back at the
ecstatic feeling of it, shivering in ardent bliss as he spilled his seed into
the searing heat of her womb.   
After what seemed like a lifetime, he fell upon her in sweaty exhaustion, his
heart beating too loudly in his ears. Draco’s body was still buzzing with
pleasure, his mind simultaneously elated and horrified at what he had done.
Tears stung his eyes unwillingly as he pulled out of Hermione’s body and heaved
himself up to lay at her side.
Rape  . He had committed rape. The girl beside him was silent and unmoving. He
would have thought her asleep if not for the rapid rise and fall of her stomach
as she breathed.
“Lasted longer than I thought you would,” Greyback sniggered to his right, and
Draco turned his eyes from Hermione to glance at him. The werewolf was naked
and sitting back on his haunches, his thick, veiny cock in one hand. In one
swift movement, he leapt from his spot in front of the pair to kneel between
Hermione’s spread thighs. Greyback’s finger skimmed up and down her swollen
lips, bringing the blood-covered digit to his nose and inhaling deeply. “Wasn’t
lying about being a virgin, huh?”
Feeling the vaguest sense of horror, Draco looked down at his still-enlarged
cock that was now pink with the combination of their fluids. Semen,
lubrication, blood...  Her dirty blood.
“With that draught I gave you, we’ll be able to have fun all night,” Greyback
informed him as he positioned himself above Hermione. “But for now, it’s my
turn.”
With all the willpower he could muster, Draco forced his head from the side to
look upward. He wasn’t sure his stomach could handle watching that beast
roughly plough in and out of the girl whom he just…
Raped. Raped. Raped.
Bile rose up regardless as the fleshy slaps echoed across the cellar in time
with the werewolf’s grunts. Slipping back into the euphoria the curse induced
did little to silence the awful sounds or calm the dread that swelled in
Draco’s mind. Her every whimper, painful cry, or sob was amplified to his
frozen ears until at last with a throaty bellow, Greyback lay still above her.
“Fuck!” Draco jumped at the beast’s sudden exclamation, listening as Greyback
stood and hurriedly dressed himself. He saw the werewolf gripping his arm as he
passed on the way to the cellar stairs. "Now, how about you two take a little
rest and don't go nowhere. I'll be back soon," he said grumpily, the door
slamming shut behind him.
Draco couldn’t tell how much time had passed he lay there shivering and
waiting. Nothing moved around them, nor sounds were heard above them as they
lay naked, dreadfully awaiting their tormentor’s return. The chill from the
freezing stones crept up from his naked backside through his body, leaving him
shivering uncontrollably.  
Suddenly, something moved to Draco’s left, sending a thrill of terror through
the fog of the  Imperius  curse  . He’s back!  He thought and squished his eyes
shut in trepidation. There was a shuffling beside him, a soft feminine cry,
more shuffling.  
"Malfoy!" A hoarse voice whispered urgently above him and an icy hand gripped
his shoulder. His eyes fly open, gazing at the pale, determined face of
Hermione.  How…?  His befogged mind pondered. Her hand shook his shoulder
harder. “Draco, please, you have to fight the curse. We need to get out of
here. He’ll be back soon. Please, get up!"  
Draco watched as she draped his shirt over his privates and knelt at his side.
Hermione hovered over him, whispering encouragement to help break the curse’s
hold. “Just concentrate! Focus on your own mind, your own body. Try wiggling
your fingers, your toes. You need to try harder!”
But through all of her words and his efforts, Draco’s mind refused to yield to
his control.  Move, move, MOVE!  He mentally screamed, his toe just barely
twitching. His body continued to remain utterly unmoving under Greyback’s last
command to stay put.
Her whispers were becoming frantic. “Please, PLEASE! If you don’t….I don’t know
how to get out of here, and he’ll be back soon...”
Draco’s heart jumped.  No!  He screamed, unheard, and doubled his efforts to be
free of the dark curse that restrained his free-will. The fog shifted and
changed, seemingly gripping him tighter as he made every effort to be free. As
he fought, his thoughts were becoming louder, less disjointed and vague. His
own mind came sharply into focus as he came back to himself fully and with it
the pain and terror of what had happened. His chin and arm throbbed, his body
numb and half frozen.
Draco snapped upwards, knocking over Hermione who was still hovering over him.
“Gran...ger…” he stammered as she scrambled up to retrieve his clothing. Draco
stiffly stood and put them on as she looked away, gripping his wand in her
hand.
“I didn’t think you would...nevermind. We need to get out of here,” Hermione
stated, rushing forward toward the stairs. Draco grabbed her arm to stop her,
but she pulled back. “Don’t touch me!,” she nearly shrieked, pointing his wand
at his face, her expression one of panic.
“Not that way,” Draco said, turning his back to her and heading to the furthest
corner in the back of the cellar. Hermione stared at him curiously as he
knocked three times and placed his hand upon the stone, leaning near it to
whisper an incantation. A small circle of green light formed and slowly
expanded, becoming brighter when the circle's diameter reached two meters. The
light extinguished suddenly, and in its place was a circular hole leading to a
downwards sloping tunnel.
Hermione stepped closer, looking down into the dark pit. “Where does -”
“The tunnel will lead you deep under the grounds of the Manor. You’ll find a
small teacup there. It’s a portkey. It will take you to our safehouse in
Cornwall. You can apparate from there,” Draco stated, turning his back to her
and walking towards the stairs.  
“Wait,” she murmured, clutching his shoulder. Draco felt her cold hand through
the fabric of his jumper. "Come with me. When they find me missing, they’re
going to -"
"I can’t leave my parents,” he interrupts, shrugging her hand from him without
turning around. “What do you think He’ll will do to them if i go missing, too?"
“Draco, you-”
“Just go!” He nearly shouts, and after a moment’s pause, he hears her lift
herself into the tunnel and disappear into its depths. In a flash of light, the
hole becomes solid stone once again.
My wand...  Draco briefly laments as he numbly walks up the stairs to the
cellar door.
===============================================================================
 
A/N -
Besides changing the scene of what happened at Malfoy Manor and Harry NOT
stealing Draco’s wand, this story is compliant with Deathly Hallows except for
the epilogue. I also know that with the Imperius curse, people have no control
over their eyes, but I changed that a bit here. They can move their eyes, but
nothing else and still have the euphoric, out-of-body feeling.
Rape victims deal with trauma differently from one to the next. Hermione, IMO,
would suppress the memory of the incident to prioritize finding and destroying
the hallows and keep it from her friends so they wouldn’t get distracted from
the mission. This repression will come to a head in the next story.
I know some people will be very upset with the fact that I decided to write the
rape from Draco’s POV rather than Hermione’s. I needed to convey what his
motivations were for going down to free her, and that this terrible experience
was also against his will - he was also raped. There will be A LOT more of
Hermione’s POV in the sequel, and we’ll find out the ramifications of this act
then.   
 
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