Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


After having Hermione turned into a werewolf the Dark Lord is determined to make her his personal guard dog.

Warning: This story contains dark themes, violence, character death, and sexual situations.

Rating: MA

A/N-  This fic was written for the Halloween Challenge on a forum I belong to.  I won for this story, but only because no one else entered the challenge.  I would like to thank Eclectic Pet for being the awesome beta she is!


Chapter 1: The Blood on Her Hands

She woke after that first night with her whole body in pain.  It felt like every bone in her had been broken then mended again and again.  Her mind was a haze of fur and stonewalls.  She remembered metal bars that hurt and then something soft and sweet between her jaws.

She licked her lips at the memory and only tasted the metal twang of dried blood.  She sat up quickly, too quickly for her body’s liking, and looked down at her naked form.  Dried blood ran down from her chin and over her chest.

She wiped it away from her lips, feeling like she was going to vomit when she realized none of it was hers.  That was when the smell of rotting flesh penetrated her thoughts and she quickly looked around her cell.

The body was a mess and triggered more memories from the night before.  She whimpered moving back from her victim and started to shake, she couldn’t take her eyes off the broken form.  Her mind rang with Neville’s screams of pain and fear.  Last night she had enjoyed those screams, now she did throw up.

She didn’t see anyone for days.  She starved and wasted away surrounded by her own sick and so much rotted blood and flesh.

When someone else finally came to check on her, she didn’t have the strength to look up from the shiny clean shoes.  The man crouched down over her and lifted her head by a mass of knotted hair.

She looked up into superior silver eyes and for once believed she was indeed as dirty as he thought.

“What are you?”  Draco asked as if her answer would determine her future.

“I’m a witch.”  Hermione said wishing she had enough saliva to spit in his face.

“I told them it wouldn’t be so easy.”  He said dropping her back to the ground.  “Take her leftovers and clean the cell.  We wouldn’t want the Lord’s new prized bitch getting sick.”  He said as she watched his shiny shoes walk away.

Hermione listened as they scrapped the blood and gore from the stone floor.  She tried to will herself to move, but she was just too weak.

She whimpered as hard jets of ice cold water drenched her and the cell she was in.  She knew she would bruised and battered, but she also knew no one would care. When the flash of heat hit her, she screamed with a strength she didn’t know she had left when she felt as if her whole body was on fire.

She blacked out with agony.  Once conscious again, Hermione knew something had changed.  Without food or water, her mind worked much slower than she would have liked to recognize what was different.

She was laying on something soft.  After spending so much time on the hard stone floor, it felt like maybe she had slipped off to heaven.  She could also smell food.  Close to her head were two bowls; one with a beef broth and one with cool water.

She shifted slightly and drank the broth and water slowly to get her stomach used to the sustenance again.  She knew from books she had read in the past that if she gorged herself like her instinct she would only end up losing what she ate.

She took things slow and paced herself.  When she had regained enough energy, she sat up and found that she had been lying in an oversized dog bed.  This information led to the realization that her water and broth were in dog dishes.

She laughed and shook her head.  They wanted her to be their dog.  They wanted her to think of herself as their dog.  She would not give herself to them.

Looking around once more she found there was also a toilet and sink in the corner of her room.  She remembered Draco’s comment about not wishing for her to get sick and thanked merlin that the inbred purebloods knew that a proper bathroom was key to that goal.

She laid back down on her bed and shook her head.  She would use the comforts they gave her, but only to keep her mind sharp so that she could free herself when the time came.

As each day passed she saw no one, but her bowls were filled with what she needed to live.  Every day the food offered got hardier and hardier as he stomach could take more.

As her health returned she started to plan and exam her cell more closely.  It was three stonewalls, ground and ceiling.  One of the walls was made from silver bars.  She could see where the bars lifted to let people in and out, but she had no way of getting to the mechanism.

The continued solitude made her wonder if she would ever get the chance for escape.

She felt the call of the moon before she realized she was sleeping on hard stone.  When she looked around her she found that she was once again the only thing in her cell.  It had been like this the day she’d been scratched.  They left her in the cell hungry and alone.  Only then, she had still had her clothes to keep her warm.

She stood and did her morning exercises that she’d started to keep her muscles in working order.  It wouldn’t due for her escape if she could no longer run.

As night came she started to feel anxious.  The nervous energy of the upcoming change was filling her blood with fire.  It wasn’t until she felt the twist in her gut that meant the beast was close that she heard the bars move and someone being pushed into her cell before they slammed against the floor.

She didn’t want to look to see who had been sent as the beast’s next meal.  This torture, this knowing that she would kill again was the worst they could do to her, and they knew it.

“Hermione!”  A familiar voice cried out in shock and relief.

“No.” She whimpered before her vision started to turn red and she dropped to her knees from the pain.

She looked up at silver hair and kind blue eyes, and she shook her head to deny what was coming.

“What’s wrong?”  Luna asked moving to her side.

“No.”  Hermione’s gasp ended in a growl.  Her bones twisted and grief disappeared into agony and anger.

“I’m so sorry.”  She heard the witch say as she turned on her.  “Hermione, it’s okay.” She said right before the beast sprang.

When the girl woke the next morning she cried for her lost friend.  She had killed two good souls now.  The beast had enjoyed their blood.  Hermione worked very hard not to vomit at the thought this time.  She didn’t know when they would feed her next; she couldn’t afford to be sick if she was going to fight them.

She felt it was less time before she woke one night to see the shiny black shoes standing inches from her face.  Once again Draco crouched down and lifted her head by a chunk of hair.

“What are you?”  He asked as a smirk played across his lips.

This time she did spit right into that smug face.  “I’m a witch.”  She growled trying to get a grasp around one of his clean pant legs.

He started to kick at her to free himself and got a good blow to the side of her head before she blacked out.

When she woke her cell was back to normal.  It was cleaned of Luna’s blood and her comforts were returned.

Months passed like this.  Same thing every cycle.  She would live in relative comfort for the main part of the month.  She would spend that time coming up with plan after plan to free herself.  When the full moon came she was fed another friend.  She only knew the months by the names of the people she killed.

She wouldn’t let herself forget them and started to spend much of her time repeating the list over and over again.

“Neville, Luna, Flitwick, Dean, Tonks.  Neville, Luna, Flitwick, Dean, Tonks.”

“You’ve lasted longer than your friend.”  A high voice said from the darkness on the other side of the silver bars.

Hermione looked up at him, unashamed of the tears she shed for her friends and shook her head.  At one point she couldn’t say this man’s name, but now she was a monster too.  Could monsters really fear each other?

“Tonight will be the last of this rebellion of yours.  Tomorrow when you are have feasted on the blood of my enemies you will join your mate at my feet.”  He said in a tone like she was just being an insolent child.

“My mate?”  She asked thinking he was completely delusional.

“You’ll see.”  Voldemort said with a knowing smile before stepping back into darkness and out of her view.

That night she stood by the bars ready to lunge out when they opened for her victim.  When she sprang forward a hard body collided with hers and they were both tossed back into the cell.

“Hermione?”  Her next victim asked and she could feel herself pulled into a tight hug.

She screamed as she looked up into dark eyes.

“Hermione what’s wrong?”  The boy with the lightning scar asked as he moved off her.

“No.”  She whimpered as her whole body started to shake.  “No, not you, not you.”  She said shaking her head and moving as far from the confused boy as she could.  “Anyone but you.”  She gasped between sobs.

“What’s wrong?”  He asked again as her stomach started to twist.

“Stay near the bars Harry.  I can’t think of anything else.”  She told him still shaking her head.

“What?  Why?”  He asked not sounding as frightened as he should be.

“I’m going to kill you.  He’s going to make me kill you.”  She whimpered as she worked harder than she ever had before to keep herself in check.  Every muscle in her body was taught with stress.

In the end nothing helped.  It became too much for her to hold back and when the beast took her Harry only lasted a little longer than any of the others.

She woke to the feel of someone gripping her neck in a painful grasp.  “You’re mine.”  The man growled over her.  “Mine.”  He said fiercely as he slammed her head into the stone.

“That is not how we ask Brute.”  Voldemort said from nearby.  “What were you supposed to say?”  He said in a mockingly patient tone.

“She’s mine?”  The man growled, but it sounded more like asking.

“Ask her.”  Voldemort ordered.

The man on top of her grunted and it gave her a chance to let her vision clear so she could look up into another familiar face.

“What are you?”  He asked as if finally he remembered his orders.

“No.”  Hermione whimpered as her Ron’s kind face twisted into something animalistic.

“You are mine.”  He growled slamming her head a few more times.  “Not no.  I’ll show her!”  He said moving to turn her onto her stomach.

“Brute down.”  Voldemort ordered and she found herself alone on cold stone.

“Let it all sink in my little bitch.”  The dark wizard said in a soothing tone.  “Everything will be better once you know what you are.”

“What am I?”  She asked not even knowing the answer he wanted exactly.

“You’re a monster.  One that serves me.”  He said sounding oh so certain.

“No!  No I don’t serve you.”  She said shaking her head.  She couldn’t deny that she was a monster.  She had killed all hope.

“Really?  What have you been doing the last five months?  You’ve been killing those who defy me.  You serve me Princess just let yourself admit it.  You can either be happy with my Brute or suffer here.”

“I need to think.”  She whimpered she didn’t wish to face Ron again so soon.

“Think all you like, next month you and Brute will kill together.”  He told her before he left her there alone once again.

Chapter 2: To Live or Die

The next month went by like all the rest.  She was starved for the next few days then she was given the small comforts they allowed.  Hermione’s mind ran over the look on Harry’s face and the look on Ron’s over and over again as she couldn’t bring herself to rise for much more than using the bathroom.

The faces were wrong.  Ron’s face was not Ron at all, he wasn’t the man or friend she loved and cared for.  When she closed her eyes and remembered his eyes she could see no trace of the human within the beast.

Harry wasn’t much better.  How could she remember her friend looking at her with such fear and pain?  How could she live with herself knowing she was the one who killed all hope for this world?

The month was almost over before she got herself motivated enough to even start doing her exercises once again.  It was almost too late before she realized that she had to be strong, she had to push passed their faces and remember who she was.  If she let herself, waist away they could turn her the way they turned Ron.

When the night of the full moon arrived, Ronald walked into her cell a few minutes before she would meet her next victim.  He grinned at her with his head held high.  His eyes were alight with what he thought he would be taking from her that night.

“You’ve stayed…”  He started, his hands coming up as if he planned to grope her.  “Well formed.”  He finished looking to the door and back to her.  “I will bring you my kill.”  He told her as if he was flirting.

Hermione shook her head and kept her eyes down.  She couldn’t look at him like this; it was as if they had hallowed her friend and put someone completely new in his place.

She could feel her change beginning when the doors opened again.  This time it was Bill.  She looked between Ron and his eldest brother.  How could they make him kill his own family?  Then it dawned on her that was probably what they had been doing from the start with Ron.

“Ronald?”  Bill asked seeming confused before Ron lunged forward gripping him.

“A real challenge for my mate.”  Ron said with the same grin as he looked back at Hermione.  “You will put up a fight!”

“Hermione?”  Bill asked sounding alarmed at Ron’s behavior.

“Werewolves…”  Was all she could get out before both of them doubled over with the pain of the change.  The red haze covered her vision again and she did the only thing her instincts told her.

The next morning she felt a large gentle hand on her cheek.  She didn’t want to open her eyes; she didn’t want to see what she had done once again.  She didn’t want to see the limbs of her victim or remember the taste of their blood.

“Hermione?”  A calm and sad voice asked as the man realized she was waking.  She looked up at the large scared Weasley and started to cry.

Bill pulled her into his lap and held her close.  “You saved me.”  He told her softly letting her cry into his shoulder.  “He was going to kill me, and you changed and saved me.”  He told her again and again as she let herself sink into the comfort of another human being.

“They’ll kill you anyway.”  She finally whimpered as she looked up at the bars.  “The wolf was… she was used to only one meal a night.”  She shook her head knowing she had made no real change.

The only thing she had done the night before was to put a dear friend out of his misery.  It was no longer Ron, and that thing was allowed to wear his face.

“You’re probably right.” He told her pulling back so he could look into her eyes.  “But you’ve given me these…”

“Avada Kedavra.”  The high voice of her owner sang leaving a second corpse in her cell.  “You killed your mate.”  Voldemort said as he stepped into view.  “What are we going to do with you now?”

“What does it matter?”  Hermione asked as she moved away from Bill’s cold form.  She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of breaking apart now.

“Maybe he wasn’t worthy of my Pride.”  He answered not seeming at all upset about what she had done.  He actually seemed a bit pleased.  “Maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter how you go about it Voldemort, you won’t break me.”  She said knowing she was already a broken thing, but at least she would never serve him.

“You will learn respect Pride.”  He said sounding less amused than before.  “I am your Lord.”  He explained before the pain of the change overtook her body once again.

But it wasn’t the change, it wasn’t the right time, it was lasting too long.  She screamed as the pain only compounded, becoming worse than she could ever imagine experiencing.  She didn’t know how long it lasted but when it was gone it was like the stone floor was the most comfortable place in the world.

“They never warn you.”  The Dark Lord was much closer to her now.  He crouched down next to her.  “In all their warnings about how much pain the Cruciatus curse inflicts, they never warn you about how good it feels when it’s over.”

She blinked up at the alien face and shook her head.  “Go away.”  She told him, turning her face so she no longer had to look at the man who had ruined her world.

When the pain returned she wasn’t really surprised.  He was trying to teach her respect after all and his main tool to teach anything was pain.  When the pain stopped and the pleasure of its absence settled over again she realized she was grasping on to someone’s robes.

She released them as quickly as she could and tried to move away from him.

Lord Voldemort chuckled running his delicate spider like fingers over the side of her face.  “You know I’ve had people because addicted to that curse, begging me to curse them during more intimate moments.”

“Merlin I don’t want to think about your twisted sex life.”  She said jerking away from his touch.  Maybe she could get him to curse her to insanity or even kill her.  She wouldn’t have to think about this world any longer if she were insane.

“No?”  He asked in such a way that made Hermione regret her words.  He sounded as if he had some kind of an idea, and a Dark Lord with an idea was never a good thing.

He took her wrist firmly into his hand and ran his wand down her arm as he cast a silent spell.  When he released her, he stood.  She felt no different, but that only worried her more.

“Things will be changing for you now my pet.  My beautiful Pride, we will try something new.”  He said before leaving her once again alone in the cell.

Only once she was sure he was gone did she let herself truly cry.  Every time she thought she had lost all hope, Voldemort came and showed her that he could crush just a little more.  The only hope she had left was that she would die before turning into what Ronald had become.

The thought of her old friend made her remember she was sitting in a small cell with his dead body.  Had Voldemort wanted her to kill him?  Had it been a plan so she could know that she killed both of her best friends?

Hermione jumped when she heard the bars moved.  She hadn’t expected any visitors so soon after the full moon.  She looked up again to see the sour face of Draco looking down at her.

Before she had time to make any smug remarks he dumped what felt like an ocean’s worth of cold water over her.

“You stink Granger.”  He told her before hitting her with a barrage of soap spells.  “You probably have fleas in that mane of yours.”  He added before dumping more water on her.  He kept this up for some time, never giving her a chance to speak or ask what he was doing.

When she finally was about to get a word in she was at least clean of most of the layers of dirt she’d collected over the months.  Her hair still needed some work but she was long past caring about such things.

“Are you trying to kill me?”  She growled ready to pounce on the bastard.

“Mother would die before letting something as dirty as you were into any of her baths.”  He said looking down his pointed nose at her.

It was all she could take after being so powerless to hurt those who truly deserved it for so long.  She sprang at him, pushing him to the ground and taking his head in both her hands before slamming the stunned wizard’s head against the stone floor.  She didn’t really think about how similar this attack was to what Ron had done to her, all she could think of was wanting guilty blood on her hands for once.

She was so focused on her rage that she missed the cell opening as the second taller Malfoy stepped up behind her.

“Crucio!”  He growled and the wave of pain flowed over her; it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one she’d gotten an hour or so before, but it was bad enough to stop her from doing any more damage to his son.

She didn’t really know what was going on in the world around her, but suddenly the pain was replaced by a dreamless black sleep.

Chapter 3: Suffering

When she once again became aware of herself and surroundings, the first thing she felt was someone pulling painfully on her hair.  Turning she growled at the person before she saw the small scared elf holding the comb.  It was only then that she noticed she was sitting in bath of green liquid that smelled sort of like aloe.

“What’s this?”  She demanded unable to keep her confusion and anger from her voice.

“Master want Miss Pride cleaned up and groomed.”  The elf said in a very soft tone.  She looked as if she feared Hermione might bite her.

“Get out!”  She screamed though she knew her old self would take pity of the fragile thing.

“Mimi can’t leave.”  The elf said flinching at the look Hermione gave her.  “Mimi must groom Miss Pride.”

“That isn’t my name.”  She growled in a low voice.  It was only when the elf started to cry obviously completely terrified of Hermione that she was able to catch her temper before she exploded.

“Just call me Hermione.”  She said after taking a few minutes to just sit in the tub and get herself under control.

“Mimi can’t!”  The elf started crying more even though Hermione wasn’t even looking at her any longer.

Hermione closed her eyes and took in another slow breath.  “Fine.”  She said finally looking back to the pitiful elf.  “What gets us out of this situation?”  She asked trying to focus on logic instead of anger.

The elf just held up the brush with a shaking hand to show her what she was supposed to be doing.

“Fine, just get it over with.”  The girl snapped and pulled her hair behind her.

When the elf started to comb her hair once again Hermione grabbed the sides of the tub to try and control her anger at each pull.  She knew what a mess her hair must have been, and she wondered why Voldemort didn’t just shave it as a lost cause.

“What am I sitting in?”  She asked trying to take her focus off her hair.

“Bath Mimi made for Miss Pride.”  The elf answered still frightened out of her wits.  “It good for Miss’ skin and hurts.”

“Where am I going after this?”  She asked seeing how much information she could get out of Mimi.

“Dark Lord want to see Miss Pride when she all clean.”  The elf said starting to ease now that Hermione wasn’t threatening and yelling at her.

“Of course.”  She said and let the elf continue her work in silence.

After sitting in the tub for an hour, it didn’t seem like the elf was getting very far.  The constant stress on her scalp was getting to the point that she wouldn’t be able to contain her anger much longer.

“Mimi let’s just cut it off.”  Hermione said suddenly.  “There’s six months of knots, blood, dirty and who knows what in my hair.  Better to start fresh.”

“No no, Master say Miss Pride keep her hair.  Master say Mimi use no magic to help.  Master say Miss Pride must sit and take.”

A growl formed deep in Hermione’s throat at the elf tugged at her once again.  “We’re going to be here for days!”

“I think that’s part of the point Granger.”  A low drawl came from the doorway.  Draco stood there looking right as rain and smirking down at her.  “You’re supposed to be learning something.”

“What are you doing here?”  She asked as she clutched the sides of the tub more tightly.

“I’m here to check on your progress.”  He said not seeming even a little worried that she’d hurt him again, thought she did notice he had his wand out.  “You do have quite a… nest there don’t you?”

“Let’s see how your hair looks after 6 months in a cell.”  She snapped keeping her eyes on the wand.

“You know I did bring this…”  Draco started as he held up a small vial.  “It’s a special oil that would help with what she’s doing.  Make it take a third of the time with much less pulling.”  He explained as he shook the bottle at her.

“Why would you do that?”  She asked before her head got jerked back again.

“I’ve always liked Mimi, it would be so sad to see her go.”  He said with a sigh.  “But this isn’t free.”

“What are you talking about?”  She asked through clenched teeth.

“The spell Pride.  The one the Dark Lord put on you.  Not feeling a bit overly angry right now?”  He asked with a knowing smile.

“Of course I’m angry you stupid git!”  She said then realized he was right.  Since she woke up she’s felt too angry.

“You’re going to eventually be unable to stop yourself from killing Mimi.”  He pointed out as if it were no big deal.  “But if you got this, it would give her a fighting chance to leave before you blow.”

“And it’s not free?”  She asked wondering if she could take him without warning again.

“Nope, it has a cost that you would have to pay.”  Draco explained as he tossed the vial back and forth between his hands.

“What?”  Hermione snaps annoyed that he wasn’t getting to the point.  “What cost?”

He moved to the side of the tub and knelt down so they were eye level.  The tip of his wand coming just under her chin just in case she got any ideas.

“What are you?”  He asked his normal arrogant grin lighting up his face.

She knew what he wanted, and she knew her pride wasn’t worth another creature’s life.  She trembled in fury looking into his eyes as she spoke.  “I’m Voldemort’s prized bitch.”  She said using the words he’d spoken months before.

He flinched a little as she used his master’s name and forced a smile on his face like it didn’t bother him.

“Good girl.”  Draco responded and held the vial out to for the little elf to use on her hair.

“And one day I’m going to rip out your throat.”  She added when he was moving to leave.

He chuckled shaking his head.  “I’ll be waiting Pride.”  He said before shutting the door behind him.

With the oil Draco provided it was much easier for the elf to work and it only took another hour to finish brushing and cleaning Hermione’s hair.  When the elf finished with that step, Mimi had her stand in front of a mirror so that she could trim and shape the long mane.

When they were dodging Death Eaters in the woods Hermione had let her hair grow, as she had no good way to cut it.  She’d thought it long when it reached her butt before they’d been captured.  Now the brown mass of waves grew all the way down to her upper thigh.  The elf was only trimming a couple of inches off the bottom leaving so much hair behinds.

Her eyes moved to other parts of her body, she was so thin now that her ribs stood out clearly under her skin.  Her skin had a sickly look to it even after the potion bath.  The eyes looking back out from the mirror were dead and hollow.

Without the constant jerking on her scalp the anger seemed to pass, but was replaced by a great sorrow that was welling up, ready to devour her.  She suddenly felt like letting herself just collapse there in front of the mirror and cry until nothing else mattered.

“It take little while for Miss Pride recover.”  Mimi said obviously picking up on the woman’s pain now.  “She been through a lot.”

“It’s not over Mimi.  It will never be over.”  She told the little creature as it used magic to wrap her in a warm towel.

“If Miss Pride good, she live nice life.”  The elf pointed out as if it were that simple.

“If I’m a good puppy I’ll get treats?”  She asked bitterly feeling some of the anger return.

“Master says so.”  Mimi replied, as she obviously didn’t understanding the sarcasm in Hermione’s question.

“Really?”  She asked looking to the elf as her anger spiked.  “Do you really think I want to live like some dog?”

The elf visibly swallowed and took a step back.  “Master say it is Miss Pride’s place.”  She answered fearfully.

“What’s wrong with me?”  Hermione growled knowing she shouldn’t be this angry at the helpless creature.

“Miss Pride has Emotion Curse on her.”  Mimi said taking another step back.  “Whatever Miss feel she feel completely.”

“What?”  Hermione asked, as she hadn’t been expecting to get an answer, it turned anger into the relief of knowing.  She laughed letting herself fall to her knees as she felt a contentment she’d never experienced before.

“When Miss angry Miss all the way angry.”  The elf explained as she watched Hermione closely.  “It take a while to take effect.  But now Miss Pride feel everything.”

“Why would he do that to me?”  Hermione asked looking at her hands curious as she tried to think of anything but anger in front of the blameless elf.

“Mimi not know Miss Pride.”  The elf said taking a step forward as she found Hermione seemed to be under control now.

“He wants to keep me directed.”  She answered herself thoughtfully, trying to look at the situation in a detached way.  If she took nothing personally, she wouldn’t get angry.  “He thinks if he can spin me around like a top I’ll fall at his feet.”

“Maybe Miss, now Mimi take Miss to see Dark Lord.”  The elf told her putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Like this?”  She asked looking up at the elf in shock.  She shouldn’t be surprised she guess, but somehow she could deal better with her nude state when covered in layers of dirt and blood.

The elf nodded slowly as she reached out to take Hermione’s arm.  “Miss not…”  The elf trailed off as fear flashed in her eyes.

“It’s to show me I’m not human.”  Hermione finished and got to her feet.  “Well then, I’m glad for the air.”  She said suddenly positioning her locks to cover the more private parts of her body.

The elf nodded glad she didn’t have to say it herself and touched a hand to Hermione leg before Apparting them both away.

Chapter 4: Body & Mind

They landed in a large cold chamber.  Hermione could hear a slow drizzle of water far off in the darkness.  She had seen this place before, months ago when Ron and she had killed the cup with the Basilisk tooth.  It had been cleaned up since that time, but it still felt like a place where evil dwells.

“Return to your Master, I’ll be taking Pride from here.”  The cold pitched voice said from behind them.

Hermione turned slowly to find Voldemort sitting on a black throne like he was already emperor of the world.  Maybe he was for all she knew, but why keep her around then?  She realized then that she only felt cold at the moment, she was neither angry nor fearful for now.

“You’re fighting the curse with logic.”  He said in a fascinated way.  “Very impressive, but you’ve done nothing but impress me since your capture Pride.”

“My name is Hermione.”  She answered working to just inform him of the truth.

“You’re name is Pride.”  He said in the same detached tone.  “You belong to me now, and one can rename their pets whatever they wish.”

“I’ll never answer to Pride.”  She told him as she looked up into his blood red eyes.

“After everything you’ve done, everything I’ve made you do and you still have spirit.  I find that it’s oddly my favorite thing about you Pride.”

“What now?”  She asked taking a step towards him, thinking about all the ways out of the Chamber of Secrets.

“I don’t think we have been going about this the right way.  Something is going to have to change if you are going to find your proper place in the world.”  He said watching her as keenly as she watched him.

“What now?”  She asked again wondering if she could get close enough to him to kill him with her bare hands.  Could she overpower him without the moon to lend her strength?

He moved his wand in a silent spell and she could feel her hair being gathered up and moved behind her.  “A little thin for the moment, but you’re just as beautiful in this form.”  He said more to himself than to her.

The embarrassment that shot through her at his words was almost painful.  She turned beat red falling into a curled position so she could hide her body from him.

“You were ready for anger, maybe fear, but I see embarrassment caught you off guard.”  Voldemort commented before she heard him get up from his seat to move towards her “It’s an amazing curse really, because I’m not controlling your mind, this is all coming from you.”  He told her as he started to circle.  “Maybe I should start describing all of the things I’m sure Brute wanted to do to you.  I’m curious though, you two were obviously together before this, did you give yourself to him while hiding with the Potter boy?  Maybe to both of them?”  He asked smiling down at her as she growled.

A moment later she lunged at him and he even let her topple him to the ground before he froze her in place on top of him.  “They had to keep you around for some reason; it certainly wasn’t your brains.”  He said playing with her hair as if he’d chosen this exact position for the two of them.

Hermione struggled against the spell that held her in place, but the small movements she could manage only rubbed her body against his.

“You’re letting your animal instincts get the better of you mudblood.”  He said as he pushed a mass of hair back from her neck.  “But you know what another of those instincts is?”  He asked as he got what was obviously supposed to be a devilish smirk on his lipless face.

“Let me go.”  She growled out from between frozen jaws.

“Desire for freedom isn’t as common as one would think.  People like to be controlled; they like to be told what to do and how to live.  No no, that isn’t what I can turn this fury into.”  He said as if her answer had actually been meant for his question.

“You make me sick.”  She growled again as she tried to ignore the way he was now stroking her neck.

“Do I?  Only because you think I should.”  He told her matter of factly as fingers trailed down her neck, to shoulder and then side.

Hermione froze as his touch made her skin crawl.  “Don’t touch me.”  She ordered and stilled her struggles completely.

“You don’t want to give me orders Pride.  You want me to give them to you.  If you were as much of an alpha as you pretend to be you wouldn’t be nearly so accommodating.”

She realized as if from a bolt of lightning that he was trying to keep her angry.  All his words were aimed to keep her in the hyper fury that made it hard to think and puzzle a way out of her position.  At first, the realization just made her more angry if it was possible, but then she tried for other emotions.

“Look at that, you’re still working on the problem.”  He cooed as if she was his prized pupil, his hand going to the side of her face to push the ever invading hair from his view.  “Do you think you can let yourself go cold when we’re so very close?  When you could just snap my neck if only you were powerful enough to break my curses.  I’ll help you.  No one is that powerful.”

“Harry could have!”  She said trying to lash out at him.

“Maybe, but he’s dead.  You killed him for me pet, remember?”  He asked as if it was something that could have actually slipped her mind.

The anger turned to despair when she thought of what she’d done to her best friends.  Her throat tightened as all she wanted to do was sob, but she would never give the dark wizard the satisfaction.

He shifted her off him now and got to his feet before he released the spell that had her frozen in place.  She curled into a ball as she worked not to make a sound.  Her back shook with tears she would not let fall.

“That hit something new.”  Voldemort said with a sneer in his tone.  He crouched next to her and she could feel the tip of his wand run slowly and purposefully down her spine.

An involuntary shudder went down her back at the feel of the wand and she wondered if he’d cast another spell on her.  When she felt a hand follow the same path of the wand, she rolled away and glared at the man.

“Don’t touch me.”  She said as she glared at him, her face now wet and red with her efforts not to cry.

“One day very soon you’ll bask in my attention.  It will bring you such pleasure that it will be the only thing you seek.”

“Please, hold your breath.”  She said sneering back at him.

“I don’t have time to punish you right now.”  He said sounding regretful as he stood straight.  “Really I just wanted to show you to your new living space today before I must return to my own duties.”

“Why couldn’t one of your minions do that?”  She asked slowly getting to her own feet and again arranging the hair in front of her.

She was starting to calm down and she wonder whether he’d lifted the curse or she was back to being detached.  With a quick review of her own feelings, she decided he had to have lifted the curse as she was feeling a wide mix of things at the moment.

“They aren’t allowed down here.”  He said simply before turning and heading off down a dark tunnel as if she would just follow him.

Not knowing her way around the sinister place she decided it was best to follow for now.  The more she learned the better chance she would have for escape.

When they got to the end of the hall, he pushed open beautifully carved double doors with an easy movement of his wand.  As she passed she couldn’t help but notice the rather lovely and exotic garden craved into the doors.

She stopped to get a better look unable to stop herself from running fingers over the design.

“You like it?”  Voldemort asked from just behind her.  She could feel his breath at the back of her neck and it made her jump to have him so close.

“I was just expecting snakes.”  She said taking a step away and turning to face him.

“There are a few hidden among the flowers.”  He said still looking at the door.  “But a snake is more subtle than a lion.”  He added with a grin turning to her.

“Says the guy with huge snakes lining the main chamber.”  She said crossing her arms over her chest.

“Ah, those are there to make a statement about power, this is a bedroom, and there’s a whole different kind of power here.”

She looked past him into the room at the mention of its use and couldn’t help but realize in that moment where he was actually planning to keep her now.

“No.”  She said shaking her head as she took another step out of the room.

He only smiled at her realization and nodded slowly.  “Oh yes.  The only question is if you’ll enter under your own power or if I’ll have to use force. Please, resist.  I’ll enjoying the struggle a whole lot more than your simple compliance.”

She took another step away from him which made his lipless smile spread from ear to ear.  The new predatory look in his eyes made her take a third step away before turning on her heels and running away from him as fast as her legs could carry her.

Hermione had turned three corners and ducked into a closet of some kind.  She worked very hard to slow her breathing as she listened and waited for him.  After her heart had slowed to an even thump, she risked a look around the room she’d chosen.

It was some kind of storage closet with an array of items that she doubted would be useful.  She’d found a threadbare robe to put on. Then picking through a collection of crystal shards when she felt an arm snake around her neck and pull her back against a firm body.

“Not so fast.”  Voldemort whispered in her ear before she felt the sickening sensation of being pulled through a pipe much too small for her to fit.

He dropped her again as soon as they landed and she fell forward on the floor. Hermione was surprised she wasn’t actually vomiting until she remembered how little she had in her stomach.

He stepped over her form and moved to the doors of his room.  She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck start to prickle telling her he was now casting very powerful magic.  She looked up to him and watched as the edges of the double doors melded together and into the stone wall as if they were all once piece.

When the spell was complete he cast every more things that she assumed were dark wards and protections.  “No one will leave or enter this room unless I say.”  Voldemort said as he finally turned back to her.  “Now for your punishment for running.”  He added casually.

The next moment all conscious thought was lost in a blaze of pain and suffering.  She could only sense someone screaming very far away.

Chapter 5: Conditioning

When Hermione finally awoke from pain and darkness the first thing she felt was cold metal against her neck.  Her hand moved up to touch the metallic surface of the ring circling her neck.  A chain fell heavy between her breasts telling her she was leashed to something.  Feeling the ring for a latch or lock she found nothing.  It was a perfect ring with no breaks or seams.  Sometimes she hated magic.

She knew exactly where she was before she even opened her eyes.  She lay on the floor at the end of Voldemort’s bed.  She tried to look around the room to see if there was anything that could help her, but looking made her feel dizzy and sick.  Hermione closed her eyes quickly before she threw up what little she may have in her stomach.

It had to be another curse he’d put on her.  She tried to think now what this one could be, but his knowledge of the Dark Arts was far beyond her own.  Listening to the room she could hear the steady breath of someone sleeping.

She laughed as she thought about the fact that Voldemort felt safe enough with her in the room to actually sleep.

With her eyes still closed she moved around on her hands and knees feeling her way around the bed.  Hermione stood slowly once she felt she was in the right place.  With a shaking hand she reached down to gently make sure he was on the bed in front of her.

Instead of touching the fabric of bedding or clothes as she’d expected Hermione’s hand met the bare flesh of a hard chest.

As she made contact with them the lingering sickness from before completely disappeared.  She opened her eyes to look down at red ones looking back up at her.

“Planning to kill me in my sleep Pride?”  He asked with a grin making her jump back.

The moment she broke contact with him the sickness returned worse than before.  She lost her footing and fell onto her ass before she remembered to close her eyes.

The cold laugh above her told her he had risen from the bed and was now standing over her.  She frowned at how fast he’d moved.  Her fall had only taken a few moments.

Leaning down her grasped her chin, which once again banished the sickness.  “You have three lasting curses on you my pet.  Ones that will not allow you to hurt me in any way.  Unless I’m touching you…” Voldemort started to explain as he ran a thumb over her lips.  “… your perception of the world will be highly disorienting.  Your perception of time has also been altered; you’ll have no sense of it.  It will seem to pass both too quickly and too slowly unless we are in contact.”

Hermione opened her eyes to look up into his with a frown.  “What good do you think that will do you?”  She asked snidely.

“You are now completely reliant on me for your reality to make since little mudblood.  You’ll seek me out in time.”  He chuckled and shook his head.  “And that may only take a few moments from my perspective.”  He added letting go of her chin as he stood.

Expecting the disorientation this time she closed her eyes before the sickness could return.  “What’s the third curse?”  She asked but she suddenly got the feeling she was alone in the room.

She opened her eyes for just a moment to see that she was right.  The bastard had left her alone like this.  She had no way of knowing when he’d return or how the curses would affect her for the prolonged time that he’d be away.

She decided to test her boundaries as much as she could while he was away.  She felt her away around the room.  The leash allowed her easily onto the large bed, but beyond that most of the room was out of reach.  The table by his bed had nothing of interest upon it, and no drawers to search through.

When he finally returned, what to her seemed like years later, she was laying on his bed trying to sleep, but finding even after years she wasn’t tired.

He brushed some hair from her face and rested slim fingers on her cheek.  “How has your morning gone my pet?”  He asked seeming pleased with himself.

Hermione opened her eyes to look up at his grinning face with a frown.  “My morning?”

“Yes Pride, I’ve only been gone for a few hours, I’ve returned to take my midday meal with you.”  He said with what he must have thought passed for a kind tone.

“Morning?”  She asked shaking her head in disbelief.  “What is the third curse?”  She asked trying to keep her voice even and calm.

How was she going to spend even a few more hours trapped in the personal hell he’d created?  Even her months alone in a cell were better than the reality he had created for her here.

He smiled as he let his fingers trail down her neck and chest.  The soft touch made her shiver with need making her eyes widen all the more.

“Why?”  She asked unable to keep the hysteria from her voice now.

Red eyes looked down at her with satisfaction gleaming brightly.  “Because I make you sick.  From now on, I’m the only thing that doesn’t.  How long before you give into me Pride?”

“Never.”  She said firmly knowing she would die before she turned on everything she knew.

“I thought you were smarter than that.  Really think about life ahead of you.  The hellish hours alone with nothing to do.  Boredom is the enemy of any truly intelligent mind.  I’ll be the only thing that brings any meaning to your reality now.  If you give in, life will be better than you can imagine now.  I’ll keep you forever by my side.  When you’re a wolf, you’ll hunt my enemies.  When you’re a witch, I’ll train you personally in the ways of ancient and powerful magic.  You will be feared almost as much as myself.  Which future really sounds better to you?”

“I would rather die…”  She started when he cut her off.

“Death isn’t one of your options pet.  There is no way out of the hell or heaven you’ll choose here on earth.  It’s all up to you my pet.”

It was hard to tell how much time passed or didn’t.  Her only way of knowing was that each month she didn’t give into his demands; she was taken to a cell to turn for the moon.  He still made her kill each time, but now he fed her people she didn’t know.  He was there each time, in the wolf’s view so it at least would know who gave it each meal.

As things continued she couldn’t help but look forward to the times he was around.  Things were better for her when he was near, but that was exactly how he planned it.  She had only turned to the wolf three times before she started to sleep in his bed.  Her body simply rested better when it could understand the passage of time while she slept.

He made no moves to molest her during these times, which made her feel both better and worse.  She found that the more she was around him, the more the lust curse took hold of her.  It would have been easier if he would just take her, but he was going to make her ask maybe even beg for him.

She woke a few nights before her thirteenth turning since coming to his room when she found she was alone in his bed.  She whimpered at his absence and wondered if it really was still night.

“Shhh, my pet.”  She heard his voice from near the bed and couldn’t help but relax at the sound.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  Voldemort said softly before slipping into the bed next to her.

Without thought she wrapped herself around him and rested her head on his chest.  “Where did you go?”  She asked breathing in the smell she had grown to love.

He ran soft fingers gently up and down her back.  “The imbeciles panic over the smallest thing.” He said softly.  “Nothing for you to worry about.”  

Hermione nodded knowing he wouldn’t tell her any more than that.  She pressed herself against his form a little more as his soft touches sent thrilling spikes of pleasure directly to the space between her legs.

“My Lord?”  She asked in a soft and timid voice.  She didn’t think she could stand another moment without some kind to release from the lust curse.

“Yes Pride?”  He asked and she could hear the smile in his tone.

“Please?”  She asked in an even smaller voice.  “Please make love to me?”  She added more quickly.

His hand moved down her spine as he chuckled at her words.  “Am I the kind of man you think makes love to a woman?”  He asked teasingly.

“No.”  She answered simply.

“Than why ask?”  He asked not giving her an inch.

“Because I need you.”  She said pressing herself more tightly against him.

“You know it took you longer to ask than I thought.  Should I reward or punish you for that?”  He asked as he slowly moved her to her back so that he could hover over her.

“Reward.”  She said easily letting him kneel between her legs.

His lips twitched into a smile as he looked down at her with actual amusement and something like affection in his eyes.  “I’ll need a promise from you if I give you what you want.”

“What?”  She asked her hips trying to move up against his still covered crotch.

He chuckled at her eagerness and moved her hair back from her face.  “You will call me Master from now on.”  He commanded firmly.

“Yes Master.”  She breathed, as she really didn’t care about what she called him.

That night she gave herself to him for the first time, but not nearly the last.  As promised, he never made love to her like a normal man, but the firm hard dominating sex they had started to feel like his version of love.

Over time she started to think of the brisk way he handled her in all things as little ways to show her he cared for her.  She had lost count of the moons by the time she realized she was becoming exactly what he wanted.  But with the realization came no fear, only relief.  She would be his completely, and she wouldn’t have worry about fighting any more.

At some point he gave her an amulet with a drop of his blood in it.  If she wore it, she’d feel okay while he had to work, so that she could read the books he assigned her.  When she was bad, he’d take the amulet away, but when she was good, she’d be rewarded with hours of debate on obscure magical theory.

He started to stand in the cell with her when she turned into the wolf, feeding her the victim by hand.  In time, he’d spend much of the rest of the night petting the dangerous creature he’d tamed.

Then one day there was no cell.  He led her out to the main chamber and climbed up to sit on his throne.

“You will change here, and only kill who I order Pride.”  He told her confidently.

“Will there be people you don’t want killed here Master?”  She asked moving up onto the dais and kneeling down for a comfortable spot at his feet.

“Tonight I am presenting you to all of my Death Eaters.”  He said sounding proud of her for getting this far.

“Will it be safe?” She asked worrying she’d kill those that served him.

“It will my pet, you’ll be perfectly behaved.”  He promised.

As masked figures started to Apparate around them, Pride couldn’t help but feel a tight knot of nerves in her stomach.  She had a lot more control of the wolf now, but anything could happen.  What if one of the many smelled wrong when she was in the heat of the kill?

When the last of the masked figure appeared in the center of the floor with a young man in chains, she knew whom she would be killing that night.

Her Master chuckled as the man was dropped, bruised to the ground.  He stood and paced slowly to the groaning figure.

“I do hope no one roughed you up too much.”  He said his voice full of amusement.  “I want you to know exactly who will be ending you tonight, and with you all hope of the rebellion.”  He said dragging the thin man’s chains and turning him to look at Pride.

Her eyes widened, as she looked back into oh so familiar green eyes.  How?  She had already killed him!

“Look into your death’s pretty face.”  Voldemort sneered.

“Herm…Hermione?”  Harry’s scratchy voice asked seeming full of confusion of his own.

“Her name is Pride now.”  Her Master said as he dropped Harry back on the ground.  “You see how wide her eyes are?  She thought she already killed you.”  He explained kicking Harry in the gut.  “But she only killed a man who was polyjuiced to look like you.  The second time won’t be nearly as hard as the first, will it pet?”

She looked up and shook her head.  It wasn’t long before she felt the pull in her stomach that meant the change was coming.  As she shifted into the wolf, she could hear Harry screaming obscenities at her Master for what he’d done to her.

But in truth, she owed Voldemort a lot, he gave her control.  She looked up at her Master and leapt onto her prey in a single bound.  Instead of biting into Harry’s flesh likes she was supposed to she turned her head and crunched down on the hand and wand of her Master.

After that there was chaos.  She tore at least five Death Eaters limb from limb before they smartened up and Disapparated far away from the rampaging beast.  When all was quiet, she walked over and laid next to her bleeding Master.

The boy she was supposed to kill had moved himself away from her dangerous form and she was grateful.  She slept that night like all others next to the warm form of Voldemort.  When she woke the next morning he was still hanging onto life.

“Hermione stand back.”  She heard Harry’s voice.  “He’s the last one; we’ve destroyed all of his Horcruxes.  I can finally kill him.”

Her Master’s laugh had a wet quality to it and she could feel his fist in her hair.  “She’s already killed me boy.  Much more worthy of it than you.”  He said pulling her closer so that she’d to look up into his eyes.  “I thought you loved me.”  He told her more softly.

“I do.”  She admitted not breaking eye contact with him.  “But the first lesson you taught me is to kill what I love.”

The End

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