Chapter Text
Spells exploded around Hermione like fireworks from hell, illuminating the ruined streets of what had once been a quiet wizarding village.
They had been ambushed. Death Eaters had poured in from every side, their masks gleaming under the moonlight.
Hermione’s heart hammered against her ribs as she ducked behind a crumbling stone wall. Her wand was gone. She had lost it in the chaos when a Blasting Curse had thrown her to the ground. She had scrambled for it desperately, but another explosion had sent it skittering into the darkness, and there was no time to search.
Her boots pounded against the uneven cobblestones as she sprinted toward a two-story building with shattered windows and a sagging roof. It looked abandoned, half-destroyed by previous fighting. It would have to do.
She slipped through the broken doorway and pressed herself against the inside wall for a moment, listening.
She heard the sound of heavy boots on the stone outside. Someone was following her.
Panic surged through her veins. She pushed off the wall and bolted for the staircase at the far end of the room. Her legs burned as she took the steps two at a time, the old wood creaking dangerously beneath her weight.
Behind her, the footsteps grew louder and faster.
She reached the upper landing and darted into the first open doorway, but there was nowhere to hide. The room was empty except for a few overturned chairs and a cracked mirror hanging crookedly on the wall.
The footsteps were right behind her now.
Hermione spun around just as a tall, black-robed figure filled the doorway.
She tried to back away, but he was too quick. In two long strides he crossed the room. Strong arms snaked around her waist from behind, yanking her back against a hard chest. One gloved hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream.
“Got you, Mudblood,” a low, familiar voice hissed against her ear.
Hermione froze. That voice - smooth, aristocratic, dripping with venom even through the mask. She knew it instantly.
Draco Malfoy.
She thrashed wildly, twisting in his iron grip, her elbows flailing, her heels kicking back against his shins.
But he was stronger than she remembered. Years of fighting had hardened him. He didn’t even flinch.
“Stop struggling,” he growled, “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
Hermione bit down hard on the hand covering her mouth.
Draco cursed sharply but didn’t let go. Instead, he spun her around and shoved her forward with brutal force. Her chest slammed into the nearest wall, knocking the air from her lungs. He pinned her there with his body, one knee forcing its way between her legs to keep her off balance, his chest pressed flush against her back.
His free hand fisted in her bushy hair, yanking her head back painfully.
“Granger,” he drawled, the word laced with dark amusement and something far more dangerous. “Always running. Always thinking you’re clever. Look where that’s gotten you now.”
Hermione’s heart raced, fear and fury warring inside her. She could feel the heat of him through their robes, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the unmistakable press of his body against hers. She tried to push back, to create even an inch of space, but he only pressed harder, grinding her against the cold, rough wall.
“Let me go, Malfoy,” she gasped, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound defiant.
Draco chuckled softly, the sound sending an unwilling shiver down her spine.
“No,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I don’t think I will.”
His body pressed harder against her back, trapping her completely against the rough wall. His nose brushed along the side of her neck, inhaling deeply. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.
“Mmm… you smell good for a Mudblood,” he murmured, voice thick with dark pleasure.
Hermione’s stomach twisted with panic. She bucked against him again, but his grip only tightened.
“Malfoy, stop! You hate Mudbloods. You’ve always hated us. You shouldn’t even be touching me!”
Draco laughed softly, “Oh, I do hate Mudbloods. Every last filthy one of you. I’ve always wanted to hurt you… to put you in your proper place.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in pure terror as understanding dawned. Her breathing turned shallow and frantic. “No… no, please—”
Without warning, he wrenched her away from the wall. His hand clamped around her upper arm as he began dragging her down the dark hallway. Hermione stumbled, trying to dig her heels in, but he was far stronger.
Door after door flew open under his impatient kicks until he found what he wanted.
A bedroom.
An old four-poster bed stood against the far wall, its canopy tattered and curtains hanging in shreds. Draco hauled her inside and threw her onto the mattress with brutal force. Hermione bounced once and immediately tried to scramble off the other side, heart pounding wildly.
He flicked his wand, “Petrificus Totalus!”
Her body locked instantly. Every muscle froze in place. She could still breathe, still see, still feel, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t run.
Draco stood at the foot of the bed, breathing hard, his masked face tilted as he looked down at her helpless form. Slowly, he reached up and removed the silver mask.
Moonlight spilled across his features - sharp cheekbones, pale skin, icy grey eyes framed by white-blond hair that had grown longer and more tousled from the battle. He had a face that Hermione would have considered extremely attractive if it was not dripping with malice. His lips curled in a cruel smirk, eyes gleaming with dark hunger and years of pent-up hatred.
He stepped closer, climbing onto the bed. Hermione’s eyes tracked him in raw fear.
Draco’s hands moved quickly. He grabbed the front of her robes and ripped them savagely. Another tear and her shirt followed, exposing her skin to the cool air. Hermione whimpered, tears already gathering in her eyes.
“Please… Malfoy, don’t—please don’t do this,” she begged, voice breaking as the first tears spilled down her cheeks.
Draco paused, staring down at her. His thumb brushed roughly across one wet cheek.
“Look at you,” he whispered, “So beautiful when you cry. Those big brown eyes all wide and desperate… it suits you, Mudblood.”
His hands moved lower. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them painfully hard. They were small but perky, fitting perfectly in his large palms. Hermione gasped at the pain, fresh tears flowing.
Draco smirked wider. He yanked her trousers down her legs in one rough motion, taking her knickers with them. He shoved her thighs apart as far as her frozen body would allow and lowered his face between her legs.
He inhaled deeply. When he pulled back, his expression was one of feral lust.
“Fuck… you smell even better here,” he groaned. “A Mudblood's place is to be a whore. On your back. Spread open. Taking what you’re given.” He leaned over her, grey eyes boring into hers. “Are you a virgin, Granger?”
"No,” she whispered. Thank God.
“Of course you’re not,” he sneered. “Filthy little Mudblood whore. I knew it.”
His grey eyes burned with predatory hunger as he hovered over her frozen body. The Petrificus Totalus still held her rigid, but he could see the terror swimming in her eyes. Tears streaked down her flushed cheeks, her lips parted in silent panic. He wanted more than silence. He wanted her voice. Her screams. Her desperate, useless pleas.
“Finite Incantatem.”
The binding charm dissolved instantly. Hermione’s limbs unlocked, and she sucked in a ragged gasp of air.
Before she could even twitch, Draco lunged. He grabbed both her wrists in one large hand and slammed them above her head, pinning them to the mattress with bruising force. His other hand fisted in her bushy hair, yanking her head back so her throat was exposed.
“NO!” Hermione screamed, the sound raw and piercing in the dusty bedroom. She bucked wildly beneath him, legs kicking, hips twisting as she tried to throw him off. “Malfoy, stop! Please, God, don’t do this! Please just let me go!”
Draco laughed cruelly. He ground his erection against her naked thigh, letting her feel exactly how aroused he was. “Beg louder, Granger. I like the way your voice cracks.”
“Please!” she sobbed, thrashing harder, tears pouring down her face. “You hate me, you’ve always hated me! Why are you doing this? Malfoy, stop, please stop!”
He shoved her thighs apart with his knees, settling between them like he belonged there. His free hand shoved down his own trousers, freeing his cock. It sprang out heavy and flushed, the thick vein along the underside pulsing, the head already glistening with pre-cum.
Hermione’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of it - long, thick, far bigger than anything she’d ever taken.
“Oh fuck, look at that face,” he stroked himself slowly, right in front of her. “You’re terrified. Good. Mudbloods should be terrified when a pureblood decides to use them.”
He lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against her dry, unwilling entrance. Hermione screamed again, legs scrambling uselessly against the sheets.
“NO! Malfoy, please, I’m not ready—don’t—DON’T!”
Draco didn’t wait. With one brutal thrust, he slammed into her to the hilt.
Hermione’s agonized scream tore through the room. Her back arched off the bed as intense pain ripped through her core. He was too big, stretching her brutally, tearing into her without mercy or preparation. She felt every inch, every ridge, the burning friction as her walls clamped down around the invasion.
“Fuuuuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth as pleasure flooded him.
She was so tight. Her cunt gripped him like a vice, fluttering in panic around his cock. The sensation was exquisite.
“So fucking tight, Granger. Your Mudblood pussy is choking my cock. Gods, it feels better than I imagined.”
He pulled back slowly, savoring the drag, then slammed back in harder, bottoming out with a wet slap.
Hermione wailed, her whole body jerking under him. “Stop! Please, it hurts, Malfoy, it hurts!” Her wrists twisted violently in his grip, nails digging into her own palms. “Get out of me! Please, I’ll bleed!”
Draco only laughed again as he plunged his cock into her unwilling cunt. Then he started fucking her with punishing strokes that rocked the old bedframe.
“Bleed for me, then,” he growled, leaning down to bite the side of her neck. “Scream louder, Mudblood. Let the whole fucking village hear what a pathetic whore you are.”
He released her wrists only to grab her hips instead, fingers digging into soft flesh as he hauled her onto his cock with every drive forward.
Hermione’s screams dissolved into broken sobs and pleas. “Please slow down Malfoy, I can’t—oh God, please stop!”
But he didn’t slow. He sped up, hips snapping brutally, the head of his cock battering against her cervix with every thrust. Pleasure coiled tight and vicious in his gut. He was so hard it ached, balls drawing up tight as he fucked her like he hated her. He hated her.
“Look at you,” he panted, “Crying and begging while your Mudblood pussy is getting wet. Does it feel good? Does it feel good to be a Death Eater’s whore?”
“No, I hate it!” she sobbed, shaking her head wildly. But her voice cracked on a whimper when he angled his hips and dragged the thick head of his cock right over that sensitive spot inside her.
Draco groaned loudly, the sound animalistic. “Fuck, right there, your cunt just fluttered around me. You’re squeezing me so good, you filthy slut. This is what Mudblood girls are for. Bent over, legs spread, taking pureblood cock until they break.” He reached down between them, rough fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in harsh circles, forcing unwanted sparks of sensation through her pain. “Come on, Granger. Come on my cock while I rape you. I want to feel you milk me.”
Hermione screamed again, the mix of pain and forced pleasure making her hips jerk involuntarily. “No, don’t touch me there—ahh—stop, please, I’m begging you!”
He kept pounding into her relentlessly. Sweat slicked his chest; his blond hair fell into his eyes as he stared down at her tear-streaked face, drinking in every sob, every broken plea. The pleasure was building fast now. Her cunt was soaked despite everything, the wet sounds growing louder, more obscene with every thrust.
“Gonna fill you up,” he snarled, “Gonna pump this Mudblood womb full of my cum. Maybe I’ll knock you up, force you to carry a Malfoy bastard. How’s that sound, whore? Your friends will know exactly what you let me do to you.”
Hermione’s sobs turned frantic. “No—no, pull out. Please, Malfoy, don’t come inside me, anything but that!”
But Draco only fucked her harder, chasing his release, hips slamming against her ass with bruising force. The pleasure crested suddenly, intense and blinding. He buried himself to the hilt and came with a deep groan, cock pulsing thickly as he flooded her depths with hot spurts of cum. He emptied himself inside her, grinding deep to make sure it stayed there.
“Fuck, take it, all of it,” he rasped, riding out the aftershocks with shallow, lazy thrusts. His cock twitched inside her, still hard, still buried deep. “Feel that, Granger? That’s pureblood seed dripping into your filthy cunt.”
Hermione lay there shaking and sobbing quietly. Draco smirked down at her ruined expression, grey eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
He pulled out slowly. Thick white seed leaked out around his shaft, dripping down her thighs. She was shaking beneath him, soft broken whimpers escaping her lips.
He sat back on his heels and yanked at the clasps of his black Death Eater robes. He shrugged it off his shoulders. Then he ripped the sweat-soaked shirt underneath over his head in one impatient motion, exposing broad shoulders, sculpted muscle, defined chest. His trousers and boots followed next, kicked away with a thud until he was completely, gloriously naked.
His cock stood out obscenely hard again, flushed dark red, glistening with their combined fluids. Veins pulsed along the thick shaft. He looked feral. His blond hair was damp and messy. His eyes were dark with desire.
Hermione tried to crawl away on trembling arms, but Draco’s hands clamped down on her hips.
“Oh no you don’t,” he snarled, flipping her onto her stomach with effortless strength.
He yanked her hips up high, forcing her ass into the air and pressing her chest and face down into the mattress. Her knees sank into the old bedding, legs spread wide, cunt still dripping his cum and fully exposed.
“Malfoy, please,” she begged, voice hoarse and cracking. “Not again. Please, just stop.”
Draco didn’t answer with words. He lined up the angry head of his cock against her slick entrance.
"Round two, Mudblood,” he whispered against her ear as he slid back into her in one smooth thrust. “And this time, I want you to scream my name.”
“Ahhh—!” Hermione screamed, the sound muffled by the pillow as he bottomed out instantly.
“Fuck!” Draco gripped her hips and started pounding into her from behind. The bedframe creaked and thudded against the wall with every savage snap of his hips.
“Stop, stop, Malfoy please!” Hermione wailed, fingers clawing at the sheets. “It hurts, it hurts, ah—ah—ah!”
"Can’t take it? Your greedy little Mudblood cunt is sucking me in, Granger. Listen to it, milking my cock like it was made for this.” He reached around and slapped her clit lightly, making her jolt. “You’re dripping everywhere. Pathetic.”
He straightened up again, changing the angle so the head of his cock dragged right over that sensitive spot inside her on every withdrawal. Hermione’s pleas turned into choked sobs.
“Please, slow down. I’m begging you. Oh god, please!”
The constant, brutal friction against her g-spot, the wet heat of his cum, the relentless slap of his hips against hers, it was too much. Unwanted heat coiled low in her belly. Her walls fluttered and clenched around his cock despite every scream of protest in her mind.
Draco felt it immediately. “Ohhh fuck,” he groaned, voice dripping with malicious delight. “Your pussy just squeezed me so tight. You’re getting off on this, aren’t you? Filthy Mudblood whore, coming while I rape you.”
“No, no I’m not—” Hermione’s voice cracked into a high-pitched whine as the pressure built higher. She shook her head frantically, tears soaking the pillow. “Stop, I don’t want this—ahh—ahh— don’t make me—”
He fucked her harder, hips pistoning like a machine. The wet squelch of her cunt grew louder and obscene.
“Come on, Granger,” he taunted, “Come on my pureblood cock like the desperate slut you are. Let me feel this worthless Mudblood pussy fall apart.” He reached down and rubbed her swollen clit in rough, fast circles. “That’s it, feel that? Your body knows what it wants even if your mouth keeps lying.”
Hermione’s screams grew frantic and broken. “No, no—aaahhh!”
The orgasm crashed over her against her will. Her entire body seized up. Her cunt clamped down around him, pulsing and fluttering wildly as waves of unwanted pleasure ripped through her.
Draco's eyes squeezed shut at the intense squeeze. Her walls rippled and milked him in powerful spasms, soaking his cock with fresh slick. The wet gush of her release mixed with his cum, dripping down her thighs in messy streaks. “Scream for me while you come, you filthy whore. Your Mudblood cunt is creaming so hard. Gods, it feels incredible.”
He didn’t stop thrusting. If anything, he fucked her straight through her orgasm. Harder and faster, chasing the way her pussy kept fluttering and clenching around him.
Hermione’s scream dissolved into gasping, sobbing whimpers, her body shaking violently as the pleasure kept forcing itself on her.
Draco’s own release was building fast now, pleasure coiling tight at the base of his spine. Sweat poured down his back, his naked body glistening as he railed her without mercy.
“Gonna fill you again,” he panted, “Gonna pump even more cum into this cunt. You’re going to leak me for days, Granger.”
Hermione could only sob into the mattress, body still twitching with the aftershocks of her forced climax.
Draco’s hips stuttered, then slammed deep one final time. With a groan that echoed through the room, he came hard. He ground against her ass, making sure every drop stayed buried inside her.
For a long moment he stayed there, grinding lazily, savoring the way her walls fluttered weakly around him like they were trying to push him out and pull him deeper at the same time.
Then, with a low, satisfied groan, he collapsed.
Before Hermione could even think of moving, Draco rolled sideways and yanked her against his chest, wrapping both arms around her, trapping her completely.
Hermione broke. Great, heaving sobs tore out of her as she shook in his embrace, tears pouring down her face and dripping onto the dusty pillow. Her whole body trembled with exhaustion and shame, the evidence of what he’d done leaking steadily down her thighs.
Draco nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her sweat and fear and sex.
“Shhh, Granger… didn’t expect a Mudblood to feel so fucking good,” he murmured against her skin, lips brushing her ear. “All these years I thought your kind were worthless. Turns out you’re an overachiever in every way. Top grades weren’t enough for you, were they? No… you had to have the most amazing cunt too.”
Hermione sobbed harder, the sound raw and broken. “Please… Malfoy…”
He tightened his arms, one hand sliding up to cup her small, perky breast and squeeze possessively. “Maybe I’ll keep this cunt,” he said softly, almost thoughtfully. “Keep it all to myself. Use it whenever I want. Fill it every night until you forget what it felt like to be empty.”
Panic exploded through her. Hermione thrashed weakly in his hold, fresh tears spilling. “No, no, please! Let me go when you’re done. Please, Malfoy, I’m begging you. Just finish and let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I swear, just let me go!”
Her desperate pleas only made him harder. His cock twitched against her ass, swelling back to full, aching hardness in seconds. Draco’s grey eyes darkened with fresh lust, a cruel smile curling his lips.
He rolled her onto her back in one smooth motion, pinning her beneath his naked body. “You’re going to make an excellent whore for me, Granger. My personal Mudblood whore. If I let you go, you’d just run off and spread those pretty legs for someone else. Become some other bastard’s whore. I won’t allow that. This cunt is mine. Only mine. You’ll take my cock every day until you understand that.”
Hermione cried out, shaking her head frantically, tears streaming down her temples into her hair. “No, I’m not yours, Malfoy! Please let me go!”
But Draco was already pushing in again. Hermione screamed, back arching, hands flying up to push uselessly at his chest.
“Aaaahhh! Stop!"
Draco groaned long and low, eyes fluttering shut for a second as utter, blinding lust crashed over him. He pulled back slowly, savoring the drag, then slammed in again harder. “Gods, you feel incredible. So fucking perfect. Look at you crying… those big eyes all red and desperate. So beautiful when you’re being ruined.”
Hermione sobbed and pleaded beneath him, voice hoarse.
But Draco only fucked her harder, hips snapping with raw power. Sweat dripped from his chest onto her skin. His blond hair fell into his eyes, wild and damp. The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot, addictive. He felt drunk on it.
“Such a pretty little whore when you cry,” he taunted, leaning down to bite her shoulder.
He reached between them, rough fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing fast, merciless circles.
Hermione’s pleas fractured into choked whimpers. “No, don’t— nnngh—"
Draco laughed breathlessly, never slowing his brutal pace. “Liar. Your body loves it. You’re going to come again, aren’t you? Going to cream all over the cock that’s raping you. Go on, let me feel it. Let me feel my perfect little Mudblood whore fall apart.”
He fucked her relentlessly, his fingers working her clit without mercy. The pleasure inside him was better than anything he’d ever felt. Her sobs, her tears, the way her cunt clenched and rippled around him - it all fed the fire.
Hermione’s back arched suddenly. A raw, shattering scream tore from her throat as another unwanted orgasm ripped through her against her will.
“Yes, fuck yes,” Draco's eyes rolled back as the intense squeeze pushed him over the edge. Pure ecstasy exploded through him. He slammed in to the hilt and came with a guttural roar, cock pulsing thickly as he flooded her again. “Take it. Take every drop, you filthy, perfect whore—fuck!”
He kept thrusting through his orgasm, short, greedy strokes to wring out every last bit of pleasure, grinding against her clit until she was shaking and sobbing beneath him.
Finally, he pulled out. He rolled off her and collapsed onto his back beside her on the bed. For a moment he simply breathed, staring at the cracked ceiling.
“I really wanted to keep you, Granger,” he admitted quietly, almost to himself. “That perfect little Mudblood cunt of yours… I wanted to take you home. Lock you away where no one else could ever touch you.”
Hermione lay limp and exhausted beside him, too drained to thrash or scream anymore. She stayed quiet, body aching, tears still leaking silently from the corners of her eyes. Inside, she prayed desperately - please leave, please just leave me here, please disappear.
Draco’s expression twisted. Anger surged through him. He sat up abruptly, fists clenching.
“But I can’t,” he snarled, voice rising with frustration. “Voldemort and his most loyal followers are living at the Manor now. The wards are keyed to pure blood only. They’d repel a Mudblood like you the second you crossed the threshold. Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the mattress, making the frame creak. “All that tight, wet heat… all those pretty tears… and I can’t even keep my new toy.”
He turned toward her, grey eyes blazing with resentment. When she remained silent, merely sniffing quietly and staring at the wall, his mockery sharpened.
“Look at you. So quiet now. The great Hermione Granger, reduced to a cum-dump for a Death Eater. Did you enjoy it, Mudblood? Did your filthy body like being pumped full of pureblood seed?” He laughed bitterly, the sound ugly and forced. “Of course you did. You came twice on my cock even while you were begging me to stop. Pathetic overachiever. Always have to be the best at everything, even at taking rape.”
Hermione didn’t answer. She curled in on herself slightly, eyes closed, praying harder that he would just get bored and leave. Her silence only fueled his anger.
Draco stood up and started pacing the small room like a caged animal. “What, nothing to say? No clever little speech about rights or equality? Pathetic.”
He snatched his clothes from the floor and began dressing roughly - trousers yanked on, shirt buttoned crookedly, black robes thrown over his shoulders. “Fine. Stay here and rot then. Maybe some other Death Eater will find you and finish what I started.”
He stalked to the door, hand on the handle. At the threshold he paused and turned back one last time.
Hermione remained motionless on the bed, her face streaked with drying tears. Conflict warred across his features - possessiveness, frustration, and something dangerously close to regret. He really, really didn’t want to leave her there. The thought of walking away from that warm body made his chest tighten in a way he hated.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, jaw clenched. “Fuck this.”
With a sharp, angry motion, he disapparated. Black smoke swallowed him in a violent crack, leaving Hermione alone in the dusty bedroom.