Unbidden Love Chapter One

Unbidden Love

Chapter One: Unbearably Alone

Hermione Granger kicked the cold porridge away with her bare foot. The wooden bowl tipped to one side and splashed the sodden oats across the stones. Her stomach grumbled instantly, as if protesting against her actions. She ignored her body’s demands, focusing instead on the thin rays of moonlight filtering into her cell from the world above. Was the night really as still as it seemed to be? No, of course not. How could the wizarding world be sleeping peacefully when a vicious lot of Neo-Death Eaters were raiding nearby houses and actively seeking out muggleborns and muggles?

Hermione could not suppress a shiver of fright. The scenes which constantly played through her mind had occurred a week ago, but she could still hear the screams of her friends as clearly as ever. The sounds could be coming from the steel door that blocked her access to the real world, but all she really heard were grumbles and the low, harsh voices of the guards. She knew her loved ones were okay; her trained ears had picked up the conversation of two guards the day before. She brought her mind back to that time, recalling the words with comfort. Realizing she was the only one trapped in this Hell was the only comfort these days…

“You were out rampaging for four hours and only came back with one mudblood?!” The first man’s voice was worn, but he was succeeding in keeping his tone cruel and patronizing.

“Sir, it seems the neighborhood had been forewarned of our coming. Most of the homes were deserted, except for the one where Potter and his followers were congregated. That boy is still as talented as everyone said he was, and he also brought members of the since disbanded group…what was it called? Order of the Sparrow, Order of the…”

“Irrelevant information, Carrow! Once again you’re making up excuses for your behavior! Did you not have enough men for the rampage? How did Dumbledore’s fools outfit you now?” The leader was dangerously impatient now, and Carrow sputtered for a moment before composing himself.

“W..we tried to invade their house, for we knew it belonged to Potter and his wife Ginger or whichever she was. But powerful protective spells kept us away, and we could only shoot curses at the sky as they made a quick getaway on their brooms. We luckily got that mudblood Granger because she’s not as skillful on her Nimbus as Potter or Weasley…”

“One mudblood is not enough to tell the wizarding world that we mean business! What are we to do with one pathetic girl? Leave her here to die or have some fun with her first?” His words were spoken with harsh sarcasm, enough to chill anyone’s bones.

Carrow was silent for a minute, possibly debating whether he was safe to speak his mind. “S..sir…if I may remind you, Granger is an old friend of Harry Potter. If it gets out in the Prophet that we have her captive, Potter may try to save her.”

“So? You wish to duel with the boy who stopped the Dark Lord?”

“N..no. I was just stating that Potter may come with reinforcements, which would doubtlessly cause upset and inquiry by the Ministry. Potter is part of the new Ministry, after all, and is powerful among the elite. Others of our kind who are in hiding may come out once they hear that we’re gaining power in the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This may be our chance to become more powerful, Sir!”

Silence. The squeaks of gutter rats were the only audible sound as Hermione waited with bated breath for the leader of the Neo-Death Eaters to reply.

“That’s a far stretch, Carrow…but I like it. The longer Granger is kept captive, the more enraged Potter will become. He will want to attack with force, especially if he knows that Granger has been harmed…” She could almost hear him smirking. “I hear that Travers and Mulciber are in hiding, and this could be the chance to reach them in an unperceived way. Who else is the prisoner close to, Carrow?”

“There is another. The brother of Potter’s wife…he, too, has been close to Granger for many years, and it is believed that he is to propose to her soon. But that’s merely gossip from…”

“Excellent, Carrow,” the leader interrupted. “The more who come, the better for publicity. Keep the girl alive for now.”

The pounding of heavy footsteps on stone shook the still air, making it hard for Hermione to catch Carrow’s next words.

“…enough food for another few weeks…”

“I said to keep her alive, Carrow; that doesn’t mean she has to be well nourished or free of scars. Do with her what you wish, as long as she is breathing by the time Potter and his gang arrive.”

“It will be done, Sir.”

The heavy clang of the metal door shook Hermione out of her flashback. She glared up at the new arrival determinedly, though showing her rage through spiteful looks was the only thing she could do nowadays. Her body had weakened considerably since the day she was brought to the cult’s hideout, and the longer she resisted food the more perilous her situation became. She knew that she should be eating to gain strength for the day Ron and Harry did come, but her pastime of eavesdropping forewarned her of a possible potion mixed into her meals. Starving was better than being cursed or injured by magic, this she was sure of.

“Well, don’t we look hearty this evening,” taunted Alecto Carrow, his pudgy face breaking into a cruel smile. “Didn’t touch tonight’s extravagant meal again, did we? Hmm…been three days now, Granger, and all you’ve digested is a few glasses of filthy water. Is our cook not up to your culinary standards? We did not break out of Azkaban to be serving mudbloods, but if it means rising to power…”

Hermione shakily rose to her feet in order to return Carrow’s malice eye-to-eye. Being eighteen years old and of age in the wizarding world, she would do anything to not feel like a small, incompetent child at the feet of Hogwart’s ex-Professor.

Hermione inhaled deeply in order to give her weak voice some strength behind it. “I do admit that my stomach has been begging for food for days, Carrow. So, to make this less painful for both of us, I will eat the porridge your friends so carefully created for me.”

Carrow’s eyes brightened in eagerness despite his attempts to hide it.

“On the one condition that you try the meal first, of course,” she added hastily. “I do want to make sure it was created with the best of intentions.”

The Death Eater’s lips curved into a snarl. “You foolish girl, I will never eat something that was prepared for a mudblood. You live each day praying for your savior Potter to rescue you, but where has he been, Granger? Too wrapped up over his own battles to give you must thought, I’m sure. If you don’t eat something, all Potter and his friends will find when entering your cell is a pile of dusty bones.”

Hermione bit her lip to hold back a nasty retort, but inside her heart jumped at his words. Where were Harry and Ron? The Neo-Death Eaters’ hideout was not a concealed secret – someone in the old Order had to know where it was. Oh, but she would do anything to see any of them again! Not an hour went by when she didn’t wish to feel the warm embrace of Mrs. Weasley, to glimpse the bright smile of Harry, to listen to the spilled secrets of Ginny…and, most importantly, to feel the warm lips of Ron again.

Tears filled her eyes at the mere thought of Ronald Weasley. No, she wouldn’t weaken herself in front of Carrow. She could not let him figure out her weaknesses.

Despite her attempts to hide her emotions, Carrow spotted the wet glimmer in her eyes and instantly laughed. It was a deep belly laugh that on any other occasion would have been humorous, but right then it was menacing. For despite all her knowledge and brainpower, at that moment Hermione was trapped in a situation that could not be overcome by reciting a complex spell or solving a puzzle. She had tried to find a passageway out of her cell numerous times and had attempted to pick the lock on her door at least ten times a day, but her efforts had always ended in failure.

She had to admit the truth now: she was going to die alone in a cold cellar if she didn’t obey her kidnappers. There was nothing else she could do but eat what was offered to her.

Carrow noticed her eyes straying to the half empty bowl of mush on the ground. “That’s it, Granger. Remember who you’re trying to stay alive for. It won’t be long before someone will come for you…but the real question is, will any of you get out of here alive once you’re rescued?”

Carrow chuckled to himself one last time before pushing his squat body through the narrow doorway. He banged the door shut with such force it caused Hermione to jump. Once he was gone and the air was still and quiet once more, she allowed more tears to form as the image of Ron settled in her mind.

Oh Ron! Where are you? Why have you not tried to come for me? Don’t you know what I’ve been through here in the dark and cold? I cannot survive much longer without some sign of hope!

Amazingly, her meal did not seem to be poisoned or tainted by any potion like she had thought. It did not completely smother her hunger considering it was thin and covered in dirt, but the aching pains did settle once something was pushed down her throat. She had closed her eyes during the whole thing, pretending she was not really where she was. She did her best to imagine that the squeak of footsteps outside were really the sounds of Ron’s family retiring to bed. She imagined herself alone in the guest bedroom, huddled up in Ron’s old duvet and inhaling his scent as she waited for her good-night kiss.

The shuffling of feet that suddenly reached her ears made her smile, for she knew it had to be Ron’s trainers over the hardwood floor as he crept to her bed.

“I was waiting for you,” she whispered to the night air.

He didn’t reply but leaned in closer to lightly kiss her cheek. His breath tickled her skin and caused blood to rush to her face, but she did not open her eyelids as his lips touched her skin. She did not know when he left her, for his presence lingered on through out the night, and her dreams were filled with serenity and love.

Hermione did not realize that it all had been her imagination until the next morning, when she awoke on the damp, cold floor hungry and unbearably alone.