Nightmare - Bellamione
Rating: M for safety. dark content. Warnings: implied dubcon, blood, implied knifeplay
Pairing: Bellatrix Lestrange x Hermione Granger
A slight continuation of my previous oneshot/short fic "Entwined"
written for sapphicmicrofics prompt "nightmare"
word count: <500
Hermione felt her sides constrict as she ran. Her legs felt like lead as her feet pounded into the gravel. She was wheezing, trying to suck in as much air as she could. Her body was on fire, white-hot needles prickling every one of her pours. She pushed herself to the end, but it was useless–she still heard Bellatrix Lestrange's grating cackle behind her.
She just needed to get to the clearing. She just needed–
She felt herself stop abruptly but not of her own accord. The spell shot through her like fiendfyre.
Bellatrix was behind her now – she could feel her hot breath on the back of her neck.
“You think you can run away from me?” She heard her say. “How many times do I have to tell you, muddy–”
She felt the woman’s nails dig into her forearm.
“You belong to me.”
“No, no,” Hermione jerked awake. Her sheets were soaked in sweat and urine. She gasped as she felt a heavy body beside her. It stirred, turned, and snored.
She caught her breath, trying to ground herself. “Shit.” She breathed out.
She pulled the soiled sheet tightly, ensuring not to wake John…or was it Jake? She couldn’t care if she was honest. They all blurred together by now.
She stumbled into the washroom, dropping the sheet in the bin.
She reluctantly looked in the mirror, knowing precisely what she’d find. The scars. Her body was almost covered with them. She ran a shaky hand down her neck and in between her breasts, feeling the slightly healed bumps beneath her fingertips. She shuttered as she traced the long, jagged scar circling her torso and stopping short of her thigh where a small crude B had been carved into her. She let out a small gasp at the memory.
Bellatrix had scars of her own –an H marked at the apex of her thigh.
“You did what was necessary to survive,” she murmured, rubbing her mark. “You told her what was necessary.” She closed her eyes as she dared to move her hand up her thigh. “You felt what was necessary.”
Hermione’s hands jolted to a halt as the washroom doorknob rattled. “Kathryn?” Jake’s muffled voice carried over to her. “Katie, come back to bed.”
“Yeah.” She said hoarsely. She cleared her throat. “Just a minute.”
She heard him shuffle back to bed. Her heart was pounding again, and she felt the bile rise up in her belly. Her hand shot up to her mouth, stifling a sob. “No.” She cried. “No.”
You did what was necessary to survive.
You made her scream. You adored her.
You worshiped her. You welcomed the same.
To survive.
To survive.
All to survive.
One day, she’ll believe it.