The wand scratched at Hermione's back like a tree branch, making her groan and squirm back and forth beneath her tormentor. Those long, slender fingers had peeled back her top, leaving her back completely bare, and only the fabric of her shirt kept her chest off of the cool floor underneath. She was being pinned there by just the wand, like a butterfly in a case, only the tip hadn't pierced her. Yet. Hermione began to shiver as the cold air got under her skin and began to chill the tips of her fingers. Her face, though, was warm and bright red from anger and shame. It was hard for Hermione to ignore Bellatrix as long as she was stripping her and sniping her with dirty little remarks.<br/><br/>Soon, Hermione could feel herself being held down, nails running across her skin, up to her neck, down her spine again. She felt the burning of a road map being temporarily scratched into her skin by the wild witch bearing down on her, followed by the tip of the wand against her waist. She trembled beneath her. There was as much method in Bellatrix's madness as there was madness in her method, and Hermione knew how dangerous that made her.<br/><br/>Even if Bellatrix was mad, though, it was becoming clearer and clearer what she had in mind for Hermione. "Please, stop it," was all she could say. Pinned down like that, Hermione could do nothing except wait for Bellatrix...and she was<i>not</i>looking forward to that. "Let me - let me go!" she begged as she let a wave of defiance wash over her, struggling underneath her. But that wand was still pressed into her side, and before long Hermione thought better of it. She was resigned to waiting for this witch's new torments...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>