Chapter 1

"Harry, please come back to Hogwarts. Don't listen to him, he won't stop killing if you turn yourself in. Stop being so noble for once," Hermione said furiously, stomping her foot. Harry merely ignored her and continued trying to step carefully through the undergrowth without disturbing the invisibility cloak.

"My Lord, I heard something," a gravelly voice rasped. Hermione's heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through her system. She could hear Fenrir prowling closer, no doubt drawn by their wildly thumping hearts.

"My, my, what have we here? Mr. Potter and his mudblood whore. Since you're a mudblood girlie, the Dark Lord may let me have a nibble," breathed Fenrir, in Hermione's ear, whipping away the cloak. Grimy, blood stained hands grabbed Hermione around the waist and threw her into the circle of death eaters that surrounded Voldemort. Harry landed on top of her a moment later.

"Harry, so nice to see you again. Are you ready to die?" Voldemort sneered, his soulless eyes gleaming scarlet. Harry sat up groaning, Hermione could see his eyes getting misty with pain. "Don't sit up on my account, here let me help you," mocked Voldemort cruelly, "Crucio." Harry's screams rent the air, piercing Hermione's heart. She sat up, tears streaming down her face.

"Harry," she said weakly as he fell back down to the earth in a crumpled heap. "Harry, get up. You can't die, not now, not against him."

Harry opened his eyes blearily and raised his wand towards the ghostly, inhuman shape that once was Tom Riddle. "Tom," he said sloppily, "do it now Tom. Kill me, if you can. You've fail so many times before, can't finish a seventeen year old boy? Do it, if you have the guts," Harry jeered, though the crashes from Hogwarts were getting louder. It seemed that the death eaters back at the castle were winning.

A feral snarl issued from the pale face above them. "Your wish is my command," said Voldemort, laughing cruelly at the way Harry shook. "Give my regards to your parents. Avada Kedavra." A flash of green light hit Harry's chest as the life left his eyes, his body collapsing.

Hermione felt a pummelling force hit her in the chest. She stumbled backwards, not realizing that she had stood up when Harry was talking to Voldemort. A pair of scabbed over hands grabbed her and the smell of flesh met her nose. Hermione ripped free of Greyback's hands and flung herself onto Harry's lifeless form.

"Rabastan, you're collecting for a little auction. Take her for your inventory, she should fetch a high price," said Voldemort lazily, stepping onto Harry and flicking his wand, sending her flying into the dirt and roots at a hooded man's feet. I think it's time to head up to the castle, don't you?" Voldemort sneered. He bent down so his face was an inch away from Hermione's. She could see every horrific detail with frightening accuracy. His skin was so pale that it was nearly translucent, his mouth was lipless and cruel, the slits he had for a nose were flared in disgust, but it was his eyes that she would never forget. It was as though she was looking into Hell itself, the demons cackling and relishing the torture it bestowed on each human's life. Hermione screamed as Fiendfyre consumed Hogwarts in the background. The fiery creatures tossed corpses into the air before swallowing them whole.

"No!" Hermione screamed, sitting up in her dingy cot. Her heart was racing and she was covered in a cold sweat. Hermione let her tears clean the grime from her face, not wanting to close her eyes and relive the nightmare again, to see Voldemort's maniacal face near hers, while the Order of the Phoenix and students were consumed in fire.

It had been nearly a month since Harry's downfall and the destruction of Hogwarts. Voldemort's wrath was spreading slowly throughout England. Slave trade was common now. Rebels, muggles, muggle born or sometimes half-bloods were sold at auctions. She had been taken by Rabastan and was going to be offered as his next auction. Hermione was going to be a specialty item, a virgin. Rabastan was planning on leaving out what happened to men when they came by her cell, trying to breaking her.

Hermione sighed looking down at her thin wrists. Shackles had been magically placed on her wrists shortly after her capture. She had tried everything to remove them, hitting, smashing, even starving herself in an attempt to slip through them. They merely contracted to fit her frail wrist better. Her wand had been snapped by Rabastan and she wasn't good at wandless magic.

Hermione stood up and crossed her cell in three strides. She turned the handle of the faucet and let it run for a few moments. The water turned from a rusty brown to a light brown, which was the cleanest the water ever got. She looked into the grungy, cracked mirror that distorted her reflection. She had become wiry and stronger when on the run with Harry and Ron, yet the slice of rock hard bread per day was taking its toll. Her face was gaunt and haunted, almost skeletal. Her eyes had the look of a caged animal, on the verge of losing its sanity.

"Get over here," Rabastan's voice called through a slot in the wall. Hermione didn't answer; she froze at the sound of his voice. "Mudblood, are your ears filled with filth? Move, you whore. Greyback's here, wants to make a bid on you." Hermione's pulse quickened as she swallowed hard. Greyback viewed her as a meal, not as a house elf like other bidders. Hermione was a meal he would get his pleasure out of before consuming her.

Hermione wanted to crawl back in her bunk and ignore the frustrated voice emanating from the wretched slot. She traced her fingers lightly over the knotted scar across her stomach. It ran from just below her left breast, down to her right hip. Rabastan wasn't a man to play games with or test his temper. Rabastan had sloppily healed her when he realized he may lose a hefty sale if she was dead or too damaged.

"The auction starts soon mudblood; get a move on before I have to Avada you. My customers don't like to be kept waiting." Rabastan yelled, banging the metal violently. Hermione snarled, but thrust her hands through slot. Rabastan attached a thick sliver chain to the ring on her shackles. Once they were secure he tugged her through the wall after muttering the incantation to allow passage through the sturdy, stone wall.

Hermione stumbled, blinking in the torchlight passage. Rabastan grabbed a torch out of a holder near her cell and brandished it in her face. Hermione could feel the flames lick her face eagerly and she gasped in the heat of it.

"You won't sell well like that will you?" Rabastan said rhetorically, scrutinizing Hermione's filthy and baggy robes that hung, torn, off her thin frame. He flicked his wand, vanishing her robes so she was let in nothing but her bra and underwear. Hermione instinctively tried to cover herself but Rabastan turned on his heel and dragged her through the mildewing passage roughly, towards a new master.

A/N: This is going to be a darker Dramione story. It picks up near the end of the Deathly Hallows, but this time Harry dies. I will probably have slower updates as I am focusing more on my Hermione and Tom Riddle story. I was reading through the story and found some errors, so I've re-edited it. Thanks to my betas!

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