Chapter Text
Bite The Hand That Feeds You Chapter 1
Prologue:
Of Dark And Stormy Nights
“Hermione!”
Ron’s voice echoed off of the mirrored walls of the Department of Mysteries.
Hermione could hear him and the others calling for her, but she already knew it was too late.
Lucius Malfoy’s hand was grasped tightly over her mouth and his other hand was fondling one of her small, but plump breasts underneath her torn shirt.
She squeaked slightly and tried hard to fight back but gave up as she felt another smaller, yet still firm pair of hands snake their way into her jeans and down into her panties, towards her still virgin core.
She let out a gasp into Lucius’s hands making him smirk as Draco’s light grey eyes met her own, while his slim fingers slid into her narrow, tight, never touched before channel.
“She’s such a wet little mud-blood, father. Makes me wonder if she’s ever been…touched like this before.” His voice purred quietly as his fingers delved deeper and deeper until they came a painful halt at her virgin barrier.
He pulled back slightly as she winced and watched tears fall from her previously dried eyes.
Draco’s hands pulled out of her quickly, leaving her empty and sore as he quickly stood and hooked a finger beneath her chin, and firmly pulled her towards his own face.
His father’s hand moved to the side as Draco looked down at her lips, that quivered and then back at the tears that continued to fall from her honey brown eyes.
“You mean to tell me….that he’s never touched you before?” He whispered, almost softly, getting nearer and nearer to touching her lips with his own.
Hermione could no longer hear her friends calling her name as Lucius’s other hand retreated from her naked breast and Draco at once pulled her lips against his own roughly taking her, once and for all.
It was then that the world began to spin around her and she knew that they had apparated far away from safety and all that she had ever known.
The last sight that she saw before she went under, was Draco’s grey eyes assessing her own with a look of certainty that she was sure would either make her, or break her.
