Intoxication

"Don't ever think I fell for you, or fell

over for you. I didn't fall in love, I rose in it."

- Toni Morrison

Chapter 8: Twitch

Darkness greeted them.

Hermione could feel his presence next to her like a foreboding spirit coming to take her soul away. He was in her psyche, in her mind.

He was completely saturating her.

You've trained for this Hermione…

"You've trained for this, huh?" She heard his hissing words echo in her mind.

Get out of my head.

"Make me."

She tried pushing him out of her head, but his force was impenetrable. He was like a stone wall. Voldemort – "Tom" – was one, if not the, most powerful legillimens to ever exist and he was seeping into her mind like a virus. The best thing she could do was just defend herself as best as she could until she found a weak spot in the stone wall that was him.

You want to see my secrets, Tom?

Hermione felt an onslaught of pain seer through her mind like a lightning bolt hit her frontal lobe.

"It would be wise not to call me that while you're at my mercy…"

Hermione could feel her stubbornness cutting through her vulnerability and pain.

Why don't we take a stroll, Toommm. Her voice dragged out his name like a note in a song.

The darkness seeped away. Light was slowly fading in.

Birds were chirping and a brisk summer breeze caressed her cheeks. Hermione moaned happily, inhaling the crisp air deeply, feeling a warm glow on her face.

"Where the hell are we?"

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Tom, in all of his Grim Reaper glory standing in the middle of the street she grew up on. Houses with white picket fences lined the street and every house, every single house, was her childhood home.

It was a neighborhood solely built for Hermione.

For miles. For blocks. Left. Right. One after another was her home duplicated like they were in a 50's sitcom nightmare.

She could feel Tom's unease beside her. Turning to him, he looked completely out of place in her sweet, suburban neighborhood. Drenched in black, his face still achingly beautiful, he seemed perplexed at what he was seeing.

"What is this, mudblood?"

"You've never seen a neighborhood before?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

He raised his eyebrows. "Not one where it's just the same house throughout."

He slowly stepped forward, looking between the houses. Hermione deduced that he was thinking what to do next.

"If this is what is in your mind…" He turned to look at a house on his left, eyeing the brown closed door," No wonder you're insane."

Hermione walked up behind him. "I think if anyone is winning the trophy for most insane, it's you, Tom."

He turned and frowned deeply at her. "Are you a sadist?"

Hermione blanched. "What? Of course not! Why would you ask me that?"

"Because you know every time you call me that I want to drive a knife through your skull." He gritted out.

"I'm clearly doing it because it pisses you off, Tom", Hermione pushed past him. She was feeling cockier now that they were stuck in her infinite neighborhood. He was the prisoner here and she relished in it. "You're not as smart as I have been led to believe."

Tom glowered and walked one step to stand in front of her, tilting his head down to look at her. Hermione boldly looked up, meeting his eye contact and standing firm in her stance. They were in her mind. He pushed her around, tortured her, kept her prisoner in reality, but here, she refused to be cornered.

"You're not as clever as you think you are, mudblood."

Shoving her to the side he stalked up to one of the houses. He opened the white picket fence door and slammed it loudly behind him, shattering the frame against the lock as he continued towards the shut front door.

"Get away from there!" Hermione shouted and ran after him. Jumping the fence, she caught him just as he approached the front door and tugged on his arm.

"I said get away from there!"

She fell back as he lifted his arm and shoved her off of him. Hermione lay on the ground and watched as he raised his wand, flourishing it towards the door, helpless to stop what was happening. Did Dumbledore's mind training pay off? Did all the hours of fortressing her mind work?

All the time spent in the room of requirement, all the time spent with her mentors, having assault after assault hitting her mind from every side until she was practically comatose. Order members, like the dynamic duo, told her she was overworking herself. That she was pushing herself too hard and no person was able to withstand that amount of legilimency.

What fools they were because as Tom turned the doorknob, Hermione smirked as nothing happened. The door didn't open. It didn't even move, and she couldn't help but feel a bit of pride at Tom's dumbfounded face as he stared at the door that, like her, refused to obey him.

Hermione stood behind Tom after picking herself up and crossed her arms.

"Did you expect something to happen, Tom?"

He glared at her over her shoulder and waved his wand again.

Again, nothing happened.

"What the fuck is this?" He hissed as he looked over the doorframe like there was a hidden lever or button.

"It's a door", Hermione laughed. "Is a door too hard for you?"

Tom stopped looking. But he did turn to look at her, his eyes looked like slits.

"You're hiding memories in these houses."

Hermione said nothing, but she felt her heart speed up.

"And I will open this door, Hermione."

He had said her name. And so far, he only said her name when he was being the most convicting and serious about something. He waved his wand in front of the door, in front of the windows, and around the house but still nothing happened. But she knew it was only a matter of time.

Hermione sighed deeply.

The clouds were white and fluffy like bunny tails as she gazed up at them, her arms behind her head as she lay in the soft grass of her childhood home's front lawn. How much time had passed at this point? She could feel a pounding migraine starting to set in and her mind was starting to fracture from the pressure of having both of them in her head for so long.

"Fucking bullshit…" She heard him hiss as he kicked the door open again. Raising her head with her hands, she saw his chest rising up and down rapidly as sweat dripped down his temple.

"Can we be done for today?" Hermione whined as she rested her head again. "I'm starting to get a headache."

"Why the fuck would I care about that?" He spat at her.

Raising her head, she gestured to the street. "The world is fracturing if you haven't noticed. You're putting too much pressure in my head. I'm going to black out soon."

He did nothing but Hermione could hear his breath coming out harsh. It didn't take a mind reader to know he was mad and if she had to guess, it was at her. But maybe more than that, at himself for nothing being strong enough to break down the door. He was heralded as one of the greatest wizards to live…

But as Hermione lifted her head to look at him again, watching his shoulders raise with tension as he stared at the door, she couldn't help but feel smug.

Because she was heralded as the brightest witch of her age, and he clearly hadn't been expecting a challenge.

With one last frustrating exhale from Tom, Hermione woke up in her chair wheezing and gasping for air. She fell forward onto all fours, retching and gagging until she was finally able to calm her breathing down. Her eyes well with watery tears before her vision started turning red. Panicking, she raised a hand to her face and saw blood on the tip of her shaky fingers.

"What a sight."

Tom was sitting on the couch, in the same elegant way he was when he invaded her mind, watching her struggle.

"Potter's lackey mudblood crying blood because of me." He smiled coldly at her, his black eyes glinting in the now dim fire embers.

Composing herself, she stood facing him. It wasn't tall or strong, but it was dignified in the way that she wouldn't be beaten down by him. She made to walk past him towards her bathroom to clean up but thought better and stopped next to him. He tilted his head to look up at her, his disgustingly charismatic looking face looking like a victor, even though they both knew he didn't get what he wanted. But he did get to see her hitting rock bottom and it seemed that was enough for him for now.

As Hermione stared into his black abyssal eyes, she could feel the light in her flickering.

He thought he was so fucking perfect. That he was so powerful and untouchable.

But he wasn't.

Because she had beaten him, and he had to pull himself out of her mind because he couldn't achieve what he wanted. And that was a victory in itself.

She could feel the trails of blood flowing down her face and before she thought better of it, she reached her fingers up and trailed them down the side of his face.

If Hermione died right there, she would have died happy.

The sheer shock of his face, the wide-eyed, unblinking eye contact that they held as the smile fell from his face, his rosy lips parting slightly as she trailed her blood covered fingers down his cheek leaving a single smear of bright red on his pale complexion.

"Since you covet my blood so much", Hermione said in a low, almost sultry voice," I would hate for this to go to waste."

And before he could say or do a single thing, she walked in her bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

Rarely did Voldemort use the bed that was in his quarters and tonight reminded him why. He never slept well. Even as a child, although that was due to his environment and not necessarily himself.

His mind felt soaked with the night's events and felt that maybe sleep would help ease some of the tension he was feeling, but if anything, it made him feel even more knotted.

Sighing with frustration, he flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling above him.

That fucking girl…

Always calling him out and consistently proving him wrong at every turn. He was starting to suspect that maybe what was the most predictable thing about her was that she always did the opposite of everything he assumed about her.

When he returned to his room with the single red blood trail on his face, marring his otherwise perfect appearance, he actually felt shocked and surprised.

Never did he have anyone so bold, so careless, and so brazen touch him the way she did and dared to. He had invaded her mind, forced himself into her subconscious and still found that she fought back with everything she had. At no point during any of their interactions they had thus far, did she ever back down or cower in front of him. The only time she had appeased him was when she unlocked the bathroom door for their previous blood exchange but if he had to guess, it was more of her not wanting her bathroom door broken versus her fear of him.

Those damn houses.

He knew she had her memories locked behind those doors. They had to be. It was the only explanation for why she behaved the way that she did when he tried to open them.

Tried…

Voldemort clenched his jaw slightly as his frustration of failure started mounting in him. Her smiling at him like she knew he was powerless against her protection, the sheer boredom she exhibited as he tried over and over again to knock the wood off of its hinges.

And to have to leave her mind. Not because he wanted to, not because he found it pointless, but because she had reached her limit and knew he wasn't making any progress.

"Cunning fucking cunt." He mumbled he continued to glare at his ceiling.

He had to break her.

That was the only way she would weaken enough for him to blast every door, for her to stop putting up such a fight every time he needed her blood. The urge to bend and snap her was brimming under his skin so much that he could taste it.

He closed his eyes as he recalled her state when he pulled out of her mind. Bleeding tears onto the carpet below his feet, her gagging and trying to catch her breath… He wanted to amplify it. He wanted to drive her to the point that she would be begging for the pain he would inflict on her to stop - on her knees, tears of water and blood cascading from her face as her hands would be clasped together like she was praying at an altar of mercy from him.

Something twitched.

Voldemort's eye opened in a second, his jaw still clenched as his breathing got heavier.

He had twitched. And he needed to shift to alleviate the discomfort that he was now feeling.

Disgust filled his stomach as he adjusted himself. Something he hadn't needed to do in quite some time. Since before he finished making his horcruxes. When one's sole focus is dominating the world, they don't have much time for such carnal pleasures…

So, what was so different now?

His age?

His youth?

His vitality?

He sat up in his bed, panic rising in him as his eyes darted around his bed, his hands gripping the blanket underneath him tightly.

It had to be all of those things. It's a knee jerk reaction that his young body was making at the image of –

What made his body react this way again?

He had forgotten his thought process during his panic state…

The girl…

You were thinking about her on her knees before you, pleading for you – your mercy – after breaking her…

Voldemort's face twisted into revulsion. That couldn't be it.

But as the thought of her in that position swept into his mind again, he felt the all too familiar twitch again.

Jumping from his bed, he crossed the room to where he kept the liquor, rage seething from him. He slammed the now empty liquor bottle on the countertop so hard that it shattered in his hand, blood flowing freely onto the surface. But he didn't care.

The strong, acetone flavored liquid quelled his nerves and brought sharpness to his head again.

He needed to hurt someone.

He needed to unleash his newfound fury.

But the person he wanted to unleash it on, he needed alive for her blood supply.

What a fucking conundrum…

As he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, he waved his hand in front of it to light it and inhaled deeply. The smoke mixed with liquor was creating the perfect tonic to soothe his more archaic tendencies that were resurfacing.

Obsession.

He could feel himself becoming obsessed with breaking the mudblood girl.

I have to shatter her. I have to bend her to my will so I can know what's behind those fucking doors…

The wanting to break down those barriers and see what she was hiding was becoming so tangible he felt like he could grab it. And if he could just make her snap –

Yes!

That was it! He just needed to break her down so badly that she would just become comatose. He had seen it happen to their prisoners before and if he got her to that point – his obsession, his feeling of defeat, his twitches, would go away.

Pressing the cigarette into his ash tray, he donned his cloak and headed towards the door that led out of his quarters with his new plan in mind.

I just have to break her, and I will be cured of this obsession…

I just have to break her, and I will be cured of these thoughts about her.

I. Just. Have. To. Break. Her.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Hermione groaned as she turned over in her now mussed bed as instant dread set in of what would follow the knock. She didn't know what annoyed her more… The knocking that seemed to be daily or people entering without asking.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Turning onto her back, she frowned at her canopy. What an ironic twist of fate that she was hoping it was Pansy of all people that was coming to see her.

"Can I say go away?" She called out, already knowing the answer already.

"You can, but I won't listen!"

The door opened and Theo Nott walked in with a shit eating grin on his face. Hermione's face pinched in distaste as she threw her arm over her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Awe, did you not miss me?" She heard him ask and knew he was being a sarcastic ass.

"Like an infected splinter in my finger."

"At least I gave you a few warning knocks before coming in", Nott's voice went up like that was something to be actually grateful for. "That has to count for something."

Hermione moved her arm to behind her head, propping herself up to look at him. She was in fact correct in her assumption that he was just taking the piss out of her, that Slytherin mischievous glint shining brightly in his eyes.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Nott?" she asked. "Surely this isn't to just check and see how I'm doing because if it is, rest assured I'm doing shitty."

Nott laughed, surprising Hermione because it didn't seem like a laugh at her expense. He was laughing with her, not at her. She tried to ignore the pleasing feeling it gave her.

"I would offer ways to make it more enjoyable for you, but I don't think besides letting you go free, nothing would help."

"Never say never…" Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. It seemed Nott was more intelligent than she assumed, unlike the now deceased Bill Weasley, because the mischievous glint in his eye was replaced by a more calculating one when she repeated to him the exact same words he used when he helped capture her.

"I am here for something more interesting", Nott clasped his hands together in front of him as he sauntered past the foot of her bed. Hermione eyed him sharply, instantly on alert.

"We both know you are a stone-cold killer in the field", Nott told her as if he was stating the obvious.

Hermione didn't correct him.

"We would hate to have your talents wasting away while you're being held prisoner so you will be joining us", Nott faced her. Hermione was waiting for the punchline but based on his serious expression, there was none.

"You can't think putting me in a position to attack and maim you lot is a good idea", Hermione scoffed.

"Under supervision", Nott informed her. "There will be wards and barriers. Don't think you're getting away from us that easily."

This was suspicious. All of it. She had been hidden away and now they're letting her continue to train? Why? Surely this wasn't for her benefit. If she knew anything about Tom, everything he did was to benefit him.

This has to be a trap…

"No."

Nott blanched.

"No?"

Hermione pushed herself up into a seated position and crossed her arms in front of her.

"No." She set her mouth in a firm line and arched a brow.

"I'm done playing your lots sick games and being a puppet", Hermione continued. "If he wants me to train, he can come here and tell me himself.

"Fortunately for him", Nott cocked his head to the side," I'm not a messenger. Get dressed and meet me in the hallway in 5 minutes before I imperio you to do it. And you won't like it if I have to do that."

Before she could answer, he left her room, leaving her to sit in the bed and sulk. Inhaling deeply, she very reluctantly got out of bed and walked towards the wardrobe she had yet to open. Last night, after Tom had left her, she had leaned against the bathroom door, staring a hole in the mattress before finally caving in and collapsing in it.

It was the best sleep she had had in years. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone…

Opening the wardrobe, it held more black clothes that looked far too big for her. Picking another long-sleeve black shirt, she discarded the one she was wearing and pulled the new one over her head, tying it at the side so it fit snugger on her before tucking the knot into the shirt. The sleeves were still billowing but it was better than giving material for others to grab her if she was in fact dueling. The pants weren't much better but remembering her makeshift rope, she untied it from around her wrist and tied it around the waistband.

Call it prisoner chic… Pansy would be so proud. Hermione smiled at herself knowing the girl would be horrified and wondered if the girl meant what she said when she told Hermione she was going to bring her some better clothes.

"Look at you!" She heard Nott exclaim behind her. "Making do with what little you have. Perhaps you should have been in Hufflepuff with how resourceful you are."

"Thanks", she sneered at him. "I don't have any shoes."

"That's too bad", Nott shrugged. "Let's go. They don't like being kept waiting."

"Who?" Hermione jogged to catch up behind an already leaving Nott. She hesitated briefly at her door frame that led to an empty hallway. Was this a test? Leaving her room? She wouldn't put it past the sick fuck that put her here to purposely set her up just to see what she would do.

But Nott was already walking down the hallway with steps that weren't slowing down, and he wasn't looking behind him to see if she was following him or not. Would he really be that casual if this were a trap?

It's a pretty good double bluff…

Inhaling deeply, Hermione balled her fists at her sides and clenched her teeth hard as she leaped through the doorframe.

Nothing happened.

She held her arms out like she was about to get mobbed as she looked from side to side.

She was fine! Nothing had happened.

"For fucks sake…" She heard Nott swear. "Would you hurry up? What the fuck are you doing?"

Hermione turned to see him waiting for her quite a bit aways and debated for a second.

Just a second –

If she should chance it and run the other way. What were her odds? She imagined that they were poor. Surely they would suspect that as a possibility she could make and would counter it with something that would prevent her escape. But what if they didn't? What if they thought she was already hopeless and stuck here? It's not like she could very well fight out with just her fists against wands though. She was still exhausted from not having proper food since being captured and her makeshift weapon was currently tied around her waist.

"Granger…" Nott said her name and in that one word was a warning.

Don't even try it.

Pursing her lips, she started walking towards him and she decided that for now, he was right. There was a time and a place for everything

And now was not that time.

"A wise choice", he told her as she caught up to him and started walking again.

"How big is this place?" Hermione asked.

"Big enough."

"Do you guys have other bases?

"Yes."

"Are they in use?"

"Possibly."

"Will we go to them?"

"As of right now, no."

"Do you know where the Order is?"

Silence. Hermione waited. Was that too bold of a question?

"No." Nott said after a beat.

"Does anyone?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are there any Order members here?" Hermione asked, the smallest bit of hope in her voice.

"Alive?" Nott asked her as they reached a double door after walking her down several hallways that Hermione couldn't keep track of. She nodded yes.

"No." Nott smirked and opened the doors.

She jumped back on instinct as she saw a flash of red blast through the room. Even though she was not the target, it was a knee jerk reaction. Any color of any spell always sent her on edge.

Zabini and Malfoy were dueling aggressively, both panting and dodging particularly nasty looking hexes and spells. Blood seeped against Zabini's white t-shirt as Draco's black long-sleeve shirt was torn across the midsection.

Overseeing it all was disgust in human form – Voldemort a.k.a. Tom a.k.a. Hermione's newfound bane of existence.

"Ah – Nott!" Tom turned and smiled at the two. Hermione was disappointed to see that he was still perfect looking.

Damn…

"You finally roused our own sleeping beauty to join us for practice", he smiled at the two of them and it made her skin goosebump. He looked anything but pleased.

He looked like a beautiful nightmare. Sharp, haunting, and cold.

"I had a pretty nasty headache last night", Hermione snarked," Needed to sleep it off."

Tom's smile strained at her comment as he turned his sickening smile at her.

Again, she knew he vastly underestimated her because his reaction to her comment was extremely telling to those who had the eyes to see it. His neck muscles tightened, and his black eyes narrowed, only slightly, but Hermione was learning to study him up close and personal. It wouldn't be long before she would learn every tell of his, she vowed to herself.

"Perhaps due to dehydration", he suggested, cocking his head slightly," I'm sure it has been quite some time since you have had any proper nourishment."

Hermione smiled sweetly but her eyes were narrow. "Perhaps something with iron."

Tom said nothing. Nott said nothing. But the tension between Hermione and the snakey Dark Lord in front of her was saying plenty. Hermione could see the skin around his eyes scrunch just a hair more as his fake pleasantness was slowly fading. She was openly defying him. And although she would be willing to bet Nott had no idea the game that she was playing with Death himself, she couldn't help but feel pleased that she was winning.

"You should work up and an appetite then", Tom bit out through his teeth. "Theodore, get the girl the wand that I have safeguarded."

"Yes, my Lord." Nott stalked off as she could see Zabini and Malfoy still aiming to maim each other. Hermione found herself in a similar position with their master, just without the colorful spells.

"Are you sure this is the best idea, Tom?" Hermione asked. "Letting me near a wand with you in the room?"

He took a step closer to her, not as close as he had been to her in her own private room, but close enough to still feel imposing as he looked down his angled nose at her.

"I'm willing to take my chances." He said in a low voice. "I'm going to break you yet, mudblood."

A threat… Break me? Into what?

"What else could you possibly do to break me?" Hermione shook her head with confusion. "You've already taken everything. My blood, my freedom, my wand… For Merlin's sake, I don't even have my own clothes."

Her body flared with heat and uneasiness as she watched his black eyes slither done her body, taking in her attire before finding her eyes again.

"Like always, you seem to make do."

"Here you are my Lord." Nott came up behind them, holding a black wand out. Tom immediately took a step back and beamed at the younger Slytherin.

"Thank you." Turning to the duelers that were still combatting," Mister Malfoy and Zabini, your time is up."

Immediately they stopped and turned towards their owner but not before their shocked eyes fell on Hermione.

"What is she doing here?" Malfoy asked, clearly baffled as he walked towards the group.

"We are going to have her duel", Tom replied. "I know this has been a private practice for you three, but I want to get a better idea of just how skilled the Order is. And what better way-"

He turned to Hermione and held out the handle of the wand to her." – Than to see one of their own dueling."

How skilled the Order is? Does he not know the truth?

Hermione almost laughed. The Order members were nowhere near as deadly as she was. She trained until exhaustion, Harry and Ron trained until they were hungry. She did whatever she had to in order to survive and she was constantly judged for it. Did he really think that all of their Order was as trained as she was? As deadly as she could be?

How cute…

She wordlessly took the wand and felt it groan in her hand. It felt wrong to handle a wand that wasn't her own and worse because she could tell it didn't want to be in her hand.

"Theodore, if you could indulge us?" Tom gestured to the dueling stage.

Nott smiled at her and bowed deeply. "After you Golden Girl."

Hermione sneered at him as she walked past him and up the steps to the platform. She couldn't help but be reminded of Harry's duel with the ferret in second year.

Walking to the end of the platform she turned and immediately her vision focused solely on her target. Being trapped her, a prisoner of the most vile person to ever exist, being used as an IV blood bag for him made her feel helpless. Like a victim. She was in new territory with no allies or friends to share her thoughts or space with. She was completely alone.

But here…

Here she got to be who she really was.

A killer.

An assassin.

And she felt powerful again. So many Death Eaters and trappers thought she was just a cute, petite girl but in reality, it was to mask the blood thirsty lion that was constantly roaring in the broken cage underneath her skin.

Her body was screaming for vengeance. To show those Slytherin fuckers just what she was capable of. She had dueled with Voldemort when she was emotional, begging for death as an escape, and exhausted.

But now was the time to right those misconceptions. She knew this was a test. Tom had practically said it himself.

He wanted to break her, and it seemed this was the first step he was taking.

More fool on him…

"Try not to break my nose this time, Granger!" Nott yelled out.

Hermione raised her wand in dueling first pose.

"What's dueling without a little blood, Nott?"

Nott made the first move.