This is my first fan-fiction shared with anyone but myself... and I would like to thank my dear friend 'Mrs. Wood' for all her help and patience, and proof reading.

If this story is, in any way, simliar to someone elses idea, I am truly sorry - it was not intended, nor of my knowledge. Perhaps we just think alike? (

Thanks for reading.

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I have been tired for weeks now, but I can't seem to find sleep. I have tried the countless potions Severus Snape has offered to me, on my mother's request, but nothing helped. They have dragged many medi-witches and wizards to the Manor, but no one had an answer, and I am not bloody willing to drink any more vile-tasting potions, nor am I am terribly thrilled to be poked and probed any further; I like my body flawless. Besides, I think enough medical personnel have lost their lives because of me. After all, they could not be let go once they saw who all was living in the manor these days. Plus, they had been abducted in the first place. If it had worked, maybe it would have been a small price to pay, but since it did not work it was absolutely redundant. And things are only getting worse – those blinding headaches are driving me mad, but I have not told anyone about them. Especially not my mother, she'd only worry. I have even more especially not told my Aunt Bellatrix, as she'd be sure to try every curse and hex she could think of to get me to completely commit to 'her' cause. Being reluctant to the idea of killing everyone that gets in my way…she says that is my problem. And mind you, I'd not like anything more than to Avada her right now. But even just thinking this thought would land me on 'her' list; and frankly, I just can not take any more pain. So I push all those thoughts away and play pretend – Something Malfoys do well.

I was standing next to my mother, as I always did during these 'events,' when one after another, a group of mudblood traitors were brought in. Aunt Bellatrix's orders. By then she was controlling every aspect of my life and the life of my mother. She ran the manor like it was her own, and I did often wonder when the marble tiles in the entrance hall would spell Lestrange instead of Malfoy.

It never happened. Maybe because her bloody name was too long, or maybe because Bellatrix was afraid of what my father would do to her if he ever found out. The man was too busy with other things to appear for 'family get-togethers' on a regular basis. I have no idea what he did.

Bella did not respect my father, the witch only respected the Dark ord, but she feared Lucius Malfoy, and rightfully so. He'd have her sorry ass out on the curb in no time; at least I wanted to believe that. I needed to believe that my father would stand up for his family, since at that point in time, life could not have been any more mundane.

Anyway, where was I?

The prisoners…The prisoners were brought in, heavy chains binding them to one another, despite the fact that they had nowhere to go even if they tried to run. But I doubt any of them would have had the nerve to try and find out if they could outrun a Cruciatus Curse, or the most final of the three Unforgivables.

Bellatrix's status amongst the ranks of Death Eaters, despite her failing at her most recent task, had earned her the blind support and loyalty of some of the less 'worthy': the lower rank personnel. They obediently accompanied the traitors on each side of the 'line up,' leading them, one by one, to their death.

And I had cared at first, but grew numb to it all over time. Despite my bloodline, I was not like my father, and he made sure to rub that in every chance he got. And I was most certainly not as sick and twisted as my aunt Bellatrix. All I had to do to keep her at bay during those 'rituals' was to scowl and scrunch my nose in disgust now and then. And though most of the time I did not even pay close attention to the faces passing by, I was glad I did that night.

"Granger?"

"What was that, Draco, darling?" my mother had asked, making me quickly aware that what I had intended to be a thought had been spoken aloud. How foolish of me.

"Nothing mother, nothing." I diverted my eyes to the ground, unsure if I felt more hate or happiness to see the bushy-haired mudblood. Mind you, I had not seen a familiar face in months. Oh, how did I ever sink as low as to feel even slightly elated to see Granger?

Mother glanced at me with those empty eyes of hers, but said nothing more. Good.

Granger looked terrified but defiant, stupid Gryffindor. And as she passed Bellatrix she earned herself a hard strike over the head. She buckled, but kept walking. She didn't even wince; I gave her credit.

I doubt she even noticed me.

I knew what happened to most of the traitors, once Bellatrix was done with them or if they simply didn't please her. Maybe Granger got lucky and would still be alive by morning. I doubted she would be for much longer after that.

---

One word lead to another -and before I knew it Ron and I had started an ugly fight. He said things I hope he did not mean, and I said things I hope he knew were untrue. I just said them to hurt him, because he had hurt me. I know it was immature, but I really did not care right then and there. He can be so insensitive at times, and I can be too stubborn.. I know.

"It's none of your bloody business, Hermione!"

"Oh, is that so, Ron? Then where exactly do things stop being my business?"

"Just back off, alright? And stop being so nosy!" Ouch. "If Harry had wanted you to know where he was going, or what he was up to, he would have told you."

"He told you! I think he might have expected you to tell me..."

"No! Okay? Maybe you should just stop thinking."

And it did not stop there, no. It went on for quite a while longer, until I finally had enough and grabbed my cloak and left.

"Oy, Hermione, where are you going? It's bloody dark out there!"

"It's none of your business, Ronald. And thanks, genius, I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Even in the dark."

I was wrong, as I would soon find out.

All I had wanted to do was to calm down, and to get a clear head. I hated fighting with Ron, but we had staretd to argue more frequently. Everyone's nerves were on edge, and I really did not mean to blame him for being so bossy. He had, after all, learned from the best: me. Deep down inside I knew he was just worried about me, like Harry, but it was hard to care when I felt like I was being treated unfairly. They only wanted to keep me safe. But it was a bit too late for that anyways, didn't they think?

I don't know for how long I had wandered the dimly lit streets when I felt the Stunning Hex hit me. This was no good, and even Ron would not sink as low as to scare me like that just to prove his point that the darkness, in fact, was too dangerous.

Someone hastily slipped a hood over my head, pulled me up to stand and tied my hands behind my back; it all happened so fast that it seemed like a bad dream. Next thing I knew, the Stunning Hex was released and I was lead to what I guessed was a wagon of sorts. I was shoved onto the carriage and we began taking off. I can't remember ever being that scared in my life. And by the quiet sobs all around me I knew that I was not the only one, but no one dared to speak.

At long last we came to a halt, and I was forcefully pulled from my seat and pushed down onto the ground. As someone started to drag me across the asphalt I could feel it chafe the skin on my knees.

"No one told you to take off your blind, traitor! Put your hands where I can see them!"

"I..I am so- sorry."

I froze in place, my heart racing as I recognized the apologetic tone as that of Luna Lovegood. All of the sudden the whole situation seemed to sink in, every fiber of my body trembling as panic spread throughout me. What was going on? Where were we? And why were we here?

Before I could waste another second thinking, I was heaved onto my feet and the hood over my head was removed. I wish it hadn't been, because what I saw only frightened me more, and I was sure that my legs would collapse under me any minute now.

To my left stood Luna, her eyes gleaming for the briefest second as she caught sight of me. Her nose and lower lip were bleeding and she was covered in dirt and dust from head to toe. Next to her stood three women I had never seen before, their eyes not daring to stray from the ground beneath their feet.

"Pay attention, you filthy mudblood!" How polite...but what else did I expect? We were not there to have tea and crumpets. I did not even know where we were yet.

After all of our hands were bound to one another by a heavy chain, we were lead up a winding road, which soon turned out to be the longest driveway I had ever seen. A new wave of panic shot through me. Why did they uncover our eyes? Surely it meant they did not care if we saw where we were. That could only mean they did it to make us aware that we would never get out of here alive to tell our story.

Once we had been lead into the palace of a house, it did not take much to make out who our host was. Somehow the large name on the marble floor gave it away: Malfoy...

But we were not greeted by Lucius Malfoy, the slimy git. Instead we were greeted by Bellatrix Lestrange. She looked more wicked and pleased than ever, and a hefty whack over my head told me she did not like to be stared at.

"Put them with the men, and make sure none get loose again!" Bellatrix hissed, her voice icy enough to freeze over Hell.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Malfoy Junior sneering, standing imposturous by his mother's side. Foul oaf. Of course he was enjoying the show.

I doubt he even noticed me, though; he seemed too busy patting down invisible creases on his dress shirt.